Spin (7 page)

I nodded and stroked his guitar. It was a
nice little shield. I’d have to take it up. “Like I knew I couldn’t
host another jamboree in Dodge. Sometimes you just know. I needed
bigger jamborees.”

Finn smiled faintly, although it was kind of
grim, whereas before it had been mostly sexy. He held up his
glass.

“Here’s to getting out, Janey.”

I looked away and strummed a chord. Was that
what I’d done?

God, I was sick of thinking about home. It
was always on the edge of my radar, like a sea monster, lurking.
How far did I have to run before it dropped out of sight?

“Okay, can we stop talking about Dodge and
our parents now?” I said abruptly.

“Absolutely,” he said, quietly, like he
knew. Probably did. Dodge Run was like a tattoo, a brand. It stuck
with a soul.

He was watching me handle his Gibson. His
gaze was dark across the sunlit room.

“Will you teach me to play?” I asked,
strumming an off-tune chord.

“Sure.” He didn’t move.

“But not now,” I surmised. Like I said,
stupid but not dumb.

He shook his head real slow. “We’ve got
other plans tonight.”

A shiver of heat went through me. The guitar
was warm in my lap. “What have you got in mind?” I asked, going for
sultry again.

His smile was slow and hot. “How you feeling
right now?”

I set the guitar beside me on the couch.
“Very, very awesome.”

“Good. Come here.”

He held out his hand and I went. He tugged
on my fingertips and sat me down on the arm of his chair, then slid
his hand around my back and pointed out the huge window, down the
hill. “Look.”

I stared into the greenery forty yards away.
“At what?”

“Eagle. In the tree. The big one.”

I stared. They were all big.

“Up there.” He pointed. His arm, powerful
and long, stretched out beside my head.

“Bald eagle?”

“Yep.”

“Wow,” I murmured, peering at a dark splotch
in a tree.

Then it took flight. Enormous wings opened
and its body stretched out, its wingspan over half my body height.
We watched it wing over the meadow. I was pretty impressed.

And…I’d expect to be kissed, touched,
perhaps assaulted—in a good way—not instructed on the wildlife. Not
that I minded wildlife. I shifted my bottom around and peered down
at him.

“You didn’t notice me either, you know, back
then.”

“I noticed you very much when you were
kissing me.”

“I mean in between,” I complained. “What
were
you
too busy being?”

He slid his hand down around my hip. “Who
says I didn’t notice you?”

The thought of that, of being noticed by
Finn and being too busy and perfect to notice it, was stunning.
Almost frightening. What else had I missed?

How much had he noticed?

“Really?” My voice sounded a little
high-pitched. I leveled it. “You noticed me?”

“Yeah, I noticed.” His thick fingers popped
open the top button of my silk shirt. “This has to come off.”

I wasn’t the sort to go marathons in bed.
Like triple-fudge chocolate, one orgasm was usually enough. With a
break, I might have two in me. But I’d already had three with Finn,
and if he wanted to go for four, I was ready to give it my all.

“Lift up your skirt,” he said. His fingers
descended, flicked the next button open. “I want to see your
legs.”

I snorted softly. “You want to see my
underwear.”

“Good idea.” He scooped me up and carried me
to the couch. “Keep the heels and the Wonder Woman gear on.
Everything else comes off.”

“Gear?” I tumbled down onto the couch. “What
do you think I have on under here?”

He knelt before me and pushed his hand up my
skirt. “A lasso?”

I felt all wobbly as I sank into the couch,
my knees on either side of his head. “I wish.”

His head tipped up. “Really?”

The way he zeroed in on this was a little
scary. “Tell me you don’t have a lasso,” I said nervously.

He smiled. “Cuffs.”

I cupped his face and pulled him forward,
across the tops of my thighs, to my mouth. “Finn, you are a bad
boy,” I whispered.

“You hope I’m very bad.” He kissed me and
tugged on my skirt.

I shuggled down to give him access. “You
need help.”

“Yes. I need you to pull up your skirt so I
can see your underwear.”

I laughed and did as he asked. Just doing my
civic duty.

“Let’s just take this whole thing off,” he
suggested, tugging on my shirt.

“And this,” I countered, pulling on his, and
within seconds, we were naked, well, all but my Wonder Woman gear,
and Finn was a piece of work. Artwork. I felt breathless at the
sight of him, the line of muscles in his neck as he bent his head
to mine, his sculpted arms, his hard legs, the bones of his
competent hands on me everywhere.

“I hope you don’t need food,” he
murmured.

“What’s food?”

He laid me flat on the sofa. “Because I can
be quick,” he let me know as his mouth worked its way down my
belly.

“How fast?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“I’ll time you.” I felt very sexy and very
nasty and very good. Finn laughed and I felt even better. Then he
pushed my legs apart and slid his tongue into me and I felt
freaking incredible.

~ Finn ~

JANEY MAC WAS in my arms, on my couch, with her legs
spread, laughing up at me. I wasn’t sure how it was ever going to
get any better than this.

“Were you serious about the stopwatch?” I
asked as I lipped her breasts. They were small and fit perfectly in
my hands. Her nipples were diamond-hard, rosy and tight in my
mouth.

Her laughter carried her answer. “No.”

“Good.”

“Speed is not a priority.”

“I don’t think I’ve shown you the
bedroom.”

“Oh, a tour.”

I coaxed her up and led us into the bedroom.
“Here is the door,” I said as she went through it. “And here is the
bed,” I said and pushed her down onto it.

She laughed and went down willingly, pushing
up on her elbows, her hair spilling over my sheets. I didn’t waste
any time. I took hold of her hips and pulled her to the edge of the
bed where I stood.

“Wow,” she said as I dragged her. “This is
really nice.” She slid her hand over the sheets. “Egyptian?”

“If you want.”

She laughed. “No, are they Egyptian
cotton?”

“If you want.”

She shook her head, clearly dismayed by my
lack of attention to sheet details, while I stood between her
knees, not moving, just looking at her. So many options. Where to
begin?

Her brows went up. “What?”

“I’m debating.”

“Uh-oh. Is it criminal?”

I grinned. “If you want.”

I felt that idea get her hotter. “I’m
thinking about standing you up against the wall, so I can see your
gear better.”

She blinked. “Oh.” I don’t think she’d
considered the wall an option.

“But the bed has a lot to recommend it
too.”

She nodded. “It’s so horizontal.”

“Variety is the spice of life,” I said, even
as I was ripping open the condom packet and positioning myself
between her legs. I really didn’t want to wait. The pageant could
come later. Right now I just wanted to sink into her.

I knelt between her legs and put an elbow on
each side of her head and stretched out over her. Our eyes met.

“You good?” I asked softly.

“I am very, very good,” she whispered back
and touched my face.

I entered her slowly, very slowly, claiming
each inch of her heat like the gift it was. Her hips came up to
meet mine, moving as slow as I was. We never looked away from each
other. I pushed a little harder, in a little deeper, and felt a
little better.

Her breath came a little faster, her chin
tipped up, her lips parted.

We took it slow, and it was good, really
good. Her body moved, her eyes closed, and I thought I had her. She
was moving with me, our sweaty bodies rocking together, but
somewhere in there, I lost her.

I looked down and saw her staring blankly at
my shoulder. I could almost hear the whirr of gears in her head. I
rocked my hips some more, she rocked back absently.

“Want some popcorn?” I asked.

Her eyes snapped to mine. “Sorry?”

“Popcorn. For the show.”

She flushed. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re pretty distracted.”

“No! I just, I was just…”

“Are you thinking about portable bars?”

Her eyes looked guilty. “No! Well, no. Not
much.”

“You need to stop thinking.”

“It’s a habit.”

“A bad one.”

She nodded. “Sometimes it’s awful.” She
pushed her hair off her forehead. “Sometimes it’s hard for me to
stay focused,” she admitted, and her voice dropped. “And sometimes
I get self-conscious.”

“Self-conscious?” I stared. “You’re fucking
beautiful. You’re making me crazy. I can hardly think I’m so horny.
I’m in the middle of
fucking
you
, Janey. You can’t
get any more beautiful than you are right now.”

“I know,” she said sadly. Her fingers
touched my arm. “Maybe you should just….” She waved her hand
through the air. “You know, take care of business.”

“Babe, you are my business.” I rolled us
both over, sliding out of her.

“Don’t worry. It’ll be good for me too that
way,” she assured me in an encouraging tone. The only thing she
didn’t do was pat my arm.

“Janey.”

Her face flushed. “I’m sorry. I’m really
sorry.” She touched my face. Her forehead wrinkled in little
furrows. She looked like she’d just been told she was about to fail
a test.

I leaned in, kissed her mouth, and rolled
off the bed. “Stay here,” I ordered and went into the kitchen and
grabbed my glass of water.

“What are you doing?” she called from the
bedroom.

“Stay calm.”

“I’m very calm.”

“You are the opposite of calm.”

She was quiet a second. “I’m pretty sure
that’s your fault.”

“Right. You’re usually a Buddha of
calm.”

I filled the glass to the rim with ice cubes
and went back in. She was lying pretty much where I’d left her,
except she’d pushed her body closer to the headboard and had
dragged a sheet over her body. She eyed the glass. “What’s
that?”

“Dangerous stuff.”

“What are you going to do with it?

“Lay back and close your eyes,” I said,
crawling onto the bed. I put the glass on the nightstand.

She swallowed. Her fingers tightened on the
sheet so hard she was almost clutching it.

I sighed. “Janey, relax.”

She nodded. “Right. Okay. That’s what I’m
going to do right now. Watch me.” Her eyes shut obediently. Her
fingers curled along the top of the sheet, which was pulled
demurely just over the swell of her breasts.

“All right,” she announced. “Here I am,
relaxed.”

I shook my head and scooped out an ice cube
from the cup. I took hold of one of her wrists, which she let me
lift over her head. I laid it on the pillows, then slid the ice
cube up the sensitive underside of her arm.

Her eyes snapped open.

I smiled. “Hi.” I slid the ice farther.
Drips of freezing-cold water dripped down her arm and onto the
sheets. I heard her breath catch. I slid it into her armpit and her
body arched up and tightened.

“Close your eyes,” I said.

She closed them. I slid the ice from her
armpit to the swell of her breast, and her lips parted around a
gasp. Slowly, giving it lots of time to melt, I moved the ice up
her breast then over her nipple, which was now hard and
puckered.

She flung her arms across her face, elbows
bent. The sheet slid down. I pulled it farther, exposing her to her
abdomen. She bent a knee, and I dragged the sheet off that too,
until she looked like a Roman goddess, half covered in her
toga.

I moved to the other side of her body,
kneeling across her and sliding the ice cube down her arm, from the
overturned wrist flung across her face, to her elbow, and into her
hot armpit. Her head, hidden under her arms, pushed back into the
pillows with a moan.

I circled her other nipple with the ice
until it was a hard, almost-icy pebbled peak and she was panting,
then I bent and took her into my hot mouth. She gave a broken gasp
and rolled her body slightly from side to side, her hips pushing
up.

Reaching behind me, I grabbed more ice and
started down her belly. My hand was getting a little numb, but her
body was hot and ready, and the ice was melting fast, sending
rivulets dripping down her waist, wetting the sheets beneath her.
Her body had a sheen from sweat and ice and was arched for me, her
hair tangled and mussed, falling all around her face. She looked
good against my pillows.

I slid the ice down her belly right into her
belly button. Her head flew back as she gasped, then she lowered
one arm and laid her hand on my thigh, trying to find my dick.