Sweet Little Lies: Heartbreaker Bay Book 1 (16 page)

Then he pulled back.

Staring up at him, she ached. “Finn?”

“Yeah?”

“Remember how you said the ball was in my court?”

He
pressed his forehead to hers for a beat, like he was working on control. She knew she should be as well but she didn’t want him to leave, didn’t want to be alone in this. “Don’t go,” she whispered softly.

He opened his eyes, the heat in them nearly sending her up in flames. Nope, she wasn’t alone, thank God, because that would really suck. Out of words, she arched into him a little.

He groaned. “Pru.”

Afraid the next words out of his mouth would be good-bye, she snuggled in and pressed her mouth to the underside of his jaw in a soft kiss. When he opened his mouth to say something, she took a nibble. At the feel of her teeth on him, he stilled and shuddered, and then his arms tightened on her.

Yes.
This
. It was just what she needed, because here, held by him like this, her guilt, her regret, her fears . . . all of it gave way to this heady, languid sensation of being desired and she didn’t want it to stop.

Any of it.

His eyes were deep and intense as he shifted, nudging against the apex of her thighs. Keeping his gaze on hers, he kissed her again, sending licks of fiery desire right through her. Then those hands drifted down to her thighs, his fingers over the terry cloth, his thumbs beneath.

“Is this what you want?” he asked.

She gasped at the sensation of his callused thumbs grazing over her inner thighs, and he caught her mouth with his in a deep, hot, wet kiss as he slipped beneath her towel now, cupping her bare ass in his big hands.

When she was too breathless to hold the kiss, she
broke it off, her head falling back as his mouth skimmed hot and wet down her throat, across her collarbone. Her entire body felt strung too tight, like her skin didn’t fit. Impatient, she arched into him again, dragging a rough groan from him.

“Pru.” His voice was thrillingly rough, but there was a warning there too. He wasn’t going to let this get away from her. She was going to have to say how far they took things.

“I want this,” she whispered, clutching at him. “I want . . .”

His mouth was at her ear, bringing her a delicious spine shiver. “Name it.”

“You. Please, Finn, I want you.”

Raising his head, he stared at her before kissing her again, stroking his tongue to hers in a rhythm that made her hips grind to his. The soft denim of his jeans rasped over the tender skin of her inner thighs and thrilling to it, she wrapped her legs even tighter around him, drawing him closer, the hottest, neediest part of her desperately seeking attention.

Finn said something low and inaudible, and then let out a quiet laugh as he nipped her lower lip, her throat, and then . . . her towel slipped from her breasts.

He’d loosened it with his teeth.

When he put his hot mouth to her nipple, she nearly went over the edge right then and there. He cupped her breasts in his big warm hands, shifting his attention from one to the other, his stubbled jaw gently scraping over her in the most bone-melting of ways, his movements sensual, so slow and erotic she could hardly stand it. “
Finn
.”

He
lifted his head and held her gaze while he spread the towel from her, letting it fall to her sides before he worked his way south, lazily exploring every inch of her like he had all the time in the world, humming in pleasure when he found the little compass on her hip. He spent a long moment there, learning her tattoo—with his tongue.

And all she could do was grip the counter on either side of her, head tipped back because it was too much effort to hold it up, her nerve endings sending high bolts of desire through her at his every touch.

She was completely naked to his fully dressed body now. Open, exposed . . . vulnerable in more ways than one. Certainly more than she’d allowed in far too long, although she didn’t feel a single ounce of self-consciousness or anxiety about it.

She felt nothing but the sharp lick of hunger and need barreling down on her like a freight train in tune to his clever mouth and greedy hands. She was afraid if he so much as breathed on her special happy place, she’d go off like a bottle rocket.

And then he dropped to his knees.

His hands glided up her inner thighs, holding her open so his lips could make their way homeward bound. About thirty minutes ago she’d thought she needed steak more than anything but it turned out that wasn’t true. She needed this, with Finn.

One of their phones buzzed, either hers on the floor in her pants pocket, or his from wherever he had it tucked away. She started to straighten but then his fingers stroked her wet flesh and she forgot about the
phone. Hell, she forgot her own name. “Oh God, don’t stop. Please, Finn, don’t stop . . .”

“I’ve got you.” And then he replaced his teasing fingers with his tongue, giving her a slow, purposeful lick. She whimpered as he continued to nuzzle her, luring her into relaxing again—and then his lips formed a hot suction.

And that was it, she’d become the bottle rocket and was gone, launched out of orbit. Hell, out of the stratosphere. When she came back to planet Earth, she realized she had Finn by the hair, her fingers curled tight against his head, her thighs squeezing his head like he was a walnut to be cracked. “I’m so sorry!” she gasped, forcing herself to let go of him. “I nearly ripped out your hair.”

The words backed up in her throat when he turned his head and pressed a soft kiss to her inner thigh, sending her up a very male, very protective, possessive, smug smile. “Worth it,” he said, and licked his lips.

She nearly came again. “Please come here.”

He rose to his feet and her hands went to his stomach, sliding beneath his shirt to feel the heat of his hard abs. So much to touch, and the question became up or down . . .

His eyes were dark and heated, flickering with amusement as he read the indecision on her face.

“I’m not exactly sure what to do with you,” she whispered.

“I could make a few suggestions.”

She laughed a little nervously but let her hands glide up his torso, shoving his shirt up as she went. He was so beautifully made . . . “Off,” she said softly.

He
had the shirt gone in less than a heartbeat and she soaked up the sight of his broad shoulders and chest while her fingers played at the waistband of his jeans. They were loose enough that she could dip in and—

“Oh,” she breathed, sucking in a breath as she encountered
much
more than she’d bargained for.

His hot—and amused—gaze held hers. On the surface, he was calm and steady and unflappable as always, but there was an underlying erotic tension in every line of his body, a sense that he was holding back, keeping his latent sexuality in check.

She popped the top button of his Levi’s.

And then the second.

And then she’d freed him entirely, pushing his knit boxers aside and all his glory sprung into her hand—and there was a lot of glory. “Finn?”

His voice was rough and husky. “Yeah?”

“I think I figured out what I want to do with you.”

It involved the condom that he luckily had in his wallet and her leaning back on the cold tile of her bathroom countertop, but they managed.

And when he slid deep and then grasped her ass in his two big hands and roughly pulled her closer so that he went even deeper, she arched her spine and let her head fall back and felt more alive than she’d felt in far too long. She got chills all over her body and with a wordless murmur, Finn brought her upright so that she was pressed tight to his warm chest. He wrapped his arms around her and she could feel her toes curl. She clenched tight, eliciting a groan from him, and held on. She knew she was digging her nails into his back but she couldn’t stop, couldn’t breathe . . . “Finn—”

“I
know.” His hands slid south, cupping her ass, protecting her from the tile. When he did something diabolically clever with those long fingers, she came in a giant, unexpected burst.

From somewhere outside of herself she felt Finn lose control as well. They ended up smashed up against one another, gripping each other hard, faces pressed together, breathing like lunatics.

They stayed like that for a few minutes and then slowly separated. She flopped back against the mirror, not caring that it was chilly against her overheated skin.

Finn sagged against the counter like he wasn’t all that sturdy himself. He made quite the sight, shirtless, his jeans opened and dangerously low.

Sexy as hell. She’d do something about it but she felt like a boneless rag doll.

A very sated one. “I’m hoping it was the antiseptic spray,” she managed.

“I’m hoping not,” Finn said.

She needed to move but couldn’t find her limbs to save her life. Finn didn’t seem to have the same problem, he used his arms to lean over her and kiss her, eyes open like maybe he was taking her vitals.

She quivered for more. Good God. Since when was she addicted to sex?

Finn caught the look in her eyes and he laughed low in his throat. Sexy as hell. “Give me a minute,” he said, voice husky.

She arched a brow, impressed. “Just one?”

“Maybe one and a half,” he said, his gaze dropping to her mouth. “Tops.”

Her
good parts actually fluttered.
Seriously, what was wrong with her?

“How’s the road rash?” he asked, helping her down off the counter and rewrapping her up in the towel.

It took her a moment to get her brain organized enough to even remember what he was talking about. “Good.”

“Liar.” His voice was quiet and very, very sexy. She wondered if he’d ever considered a side job as a phone sex operator. He’d be fantastic at it. Or maybe he could just read her a book, any book at all . . .

His phone buzzed once more and he blew out a sigh. “That’s twice. I’m sorry, I have to look.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and glanced at the screen.

A frown creased his brow as he accessed a text.

And then his easy demeanor vanished. He rose to his feet.

“What’s the matter?” she asked.

He pulled her towel back around her, tucking it in between her breasts, stopping to brush a sweet kiss to her lips. “I’m sorry. I have to go. Sean’s in trouble.”

Her heart stopped. “Do you need help?”

“No, I’ve got it. We’ve been around this block before, more times than I can count.”

“But . . .” She ran her gaze down his body, letting it catch on the unmistakable bulge behind his button fly. “Now?”

“Yeah.” He ran the pad of his thumb along her jaw and kissed her again. “Thanks for giving me a taste of you,” he murmured against her mouth. “I already want another.”

And then he was gone, leaving her sitting there,
mouth open, blinking like a land-locked fish at the open doorway he’d just vanished through.

“I want a taste of you too,” she said to the empty void he’d left behind. She looked around her at the steamy bathroom. “I don’t even know what just happened,” she told it.

But she totally did—she’d just complicated things even more. And in an irreversible way, too.

Dammit, she was supposed to be fun whispering him. Instead, she’d fun whispered herself!

Finn
took the stairs rather than wait for the elevator, and then jogged across the courtyard to the pub, his body practically vibrating with adrenaline.

He could still hear Pru’s soft, breathy, whimpery pants in his ear. She’d stilled for his touch like she’d been afraid it would all stop too soon.

She’d even begged him.
Please, Finn, don’t stop . . .

If Sean hadn’t called, they’d have moved to her bed by now and be in the throes of round two.

Not once in the past eight years since his life had changed so drastically had he’d had such a wildly hot, crazy sex-capade, but Pru brought it out in him. There was no denying that he felt more alive when he was with her than he’d felt in . . . well, shit.

A fucking long time.

There’d been few opportunities when he was busy
working 24/7 and trying to keep Sean on the straight and narrow.

But Pru had gotten under his skin, and like her, he wanted more. So much more. He wanted to know her secrets, the ones that sometimes put those shadows in her eyes. He wanted to know why she wanted to bring him fun and adventure, but didn’t seem to feel like she deserved it as well. He wanted to know what made her tick. And more than anything, he wanted to taste her again.

Every inch of her.

He wanted to see more of her and he had no idea how she felt about that. For the first time in he had no idea how long, he was thinking about more than the bottom line of the pub.

He was thinking about a future, with an adventurous, frustrating, warm, sexy woman he couldn’t seem to get enough of.

Skipping the crowded pub, he entered directly into his office, while thumbing through his email on his phone. “So what the hell’s so important that—” He broke off as a sound permeated through his thick skull—the soft sigh of a woman experiencing pleasure.

Sexual pleasure.

Jerking his head up, he took in the sight on his couch and whipped back to the door, which he slammed behind him. Grinding his back teeth into powder, he strode around the courtyard to the pub door and went directly to the bar.

Scott, the night’s bartender, started toward him but Finn waved him off and grabbed a shot glass to serve himself.

He
was trying to lose himself in the happy sounds of the crowd around him, pouring a double when Sean appeared, shirtless, shoeless, buttoning his Levi’s.

Behind him was a tall, curvy blonde in a little sundress, her hair tousled, her high-heeled sandals dangling from her hand. Shooting Finn a wry smile, she turned to Sean, ran a hand up his chest and around his neck and leaned in to give him a lingering kiss. “Thanks for a good time, baby.” With a last lingering look in Finn’s direction, she padded out.

“Fuck,” Finn said.

“Exactly,” Sean said with a sated grin.

Finn shook his head and headed down the interior hallway to his office.