Part 26 (1/2)

Another gasp escaped her lips and his fingers tightened on his hair. ”Finn-”

He licked. He nuzzled. He sucked. All while her soft pants and helpless moans and wordless entreaties wormed their way in his ears and through his veins until he didn't know where he ended and she began.

When she came, she came hard and with his name on her tongue. Satisfaction and triumph surged through him at that. When her knees buckled, he rose and scooped her up at the same time, feeling like a superhero as he tossed her down to his bed.

She bounced once and then he was on her. Maybe a little rougher than she expected because she blinked up at him in surprise as he pinned her to the mattress.

”What are you doing?” she asked, her voice a little hoa.r.s.e, for which he took full credit.

”Giving you what you showed up here for.”

”What if I wanted to be in the driver's seat?” she asked.

”Dumbwaiter,” he said.

”So . . . this is payback?”

He gathered both of her wandering hands and pinned them to the pillow on either side of her head. ”Yes.” He nudged her thighs open with one of his and made himself at home between them. ”But you can do whatever you want to me in return. Later.” He bowed his head and licked his way down her neck. Christ, she tasted good. ”Much later.”

He'd planned on going slow and savoring all the naked skin against him but as she softened beneath him, wrapping her legs around his waist, he suddenly wasn't interested in slow. He could feel her, hot and wet and ready, and when he slid in deep, they both gasped and instantly combusted with his first hard thrust.

Chapter 23.

#CaffeineRequired That day at work, Pru was going over the schedule for the day when Nick poked his head in from the docks. ”Hey,” he said. ”Got a minute?”

She'd gotten him the job here working for Jake, but they were both always so busy, they didn't often get a chance to talk. ”I've got exactly a minute,” she said, glancing at the clock and then smiling at Nick. ”What's up? How's your mom? How's Tim? I talked to him about a week or so ago.”

”Mom's fine,” Nick said. ”And Tim got that apartment.” He smiled. ”Thanks to you. Does Jake know he has a saint working for him?”

”Believe me,” she said on an uncomfortable laugh. ”I'm no saint. And Jake doesn't need to be told otherwise.”

”Why? Maybe he'd give you a raise.”

”For being a saint? No. Now if I figured out how to clone myself,” she said. ”He might be so inclined.”

Nick gave her a quick, hard hug.

”What's that for?” she asked.

”Everything.”

When he'd left, she got a text from Elle that had her staring at her phone, mouth open.

I don't know how or why, but thanks for sending last night's comic relief to poker night.

She stared at the text, horrified. She still couldn't believe she'd done that to Finn.

And that's not the only thing you've done to him . . .

She'd let her emotions get the better of her. That was a mistake, but oh G.o.d, what a delicious, s.e.xy, heart-stopping wonderful mistake.

She responded back to Elle with a? on the off chance she was jumping to conclusions, and Elle was all too happy to explain in her next text: Biweekly poker night in the bas.e.m.e.nt turned into a peep show when Finn showed up in the dumbwaiter half nekkid. Lucy, you've got some 'splainin' to do.

Her stomach hurt. Her plan to bring Finn a little fun, a little adventure while waiting on the fountain to bring him love, had seemed so simple. Fun and adventure, and maybe even a little walk on the wild side. She honestly hadn't meant to do that in bed.

Or on her kitchen table.

Or in her shower . . .

Oh, G.o.d. This whole thing was bad. Very, very bad. And yet it'd all been so heart-stopping good at the same time that she found herself just standing in place at odd moments, her brain glazed over as it ran through erotic, sensual memories like a slide show behind her eyelids. Finn bending her over the end of the bed, his mouth at her ear whispering hot little s.e.xy nothings as he'd teased and cajoled her right out of her inhibitions, his body hard against her.

In her . . .

She blew out a shaky breath. Dangerous thoughts. Because it was her being selfish, and she wasn't going to do that again.

Absolutely not.

Or, you know, as much as she could.

Ugh. She slapped herself in the forehead. Go back to your plan, she ordered herself, not giving her inner smart-a.s.s a chance to chime in. No more s.e.xy times, no matter how deliciously demanding he was in bed. And this time, she meant it. One hundred percent. Or at the very least, seventy-five percent.

Certainly no less than fifty percent . . .

Luckily, work was crazy busy and helped keep her mind off all things Finn-related. The weather was warm, which meant that everyone and their mama wanted to get outside. They wanted to be on the water, see Alcatraz, Treasure Island, the Pier 39 sea lions . . .

She was on her second tour of the day when a guy tried to propose to his girlfriend. Unfortunately for him, he apparently hadn't checked out her Pinterest page where she'd pinned pictures of acceptable rings. The proposal went fine until she opened the little black box. It didn't end well, especially since he'd done it in the first five minutes of the two-hour tour, and then had to endure the rest of the ride in frosty silence.

On her last tour, Pru had a bunch of frat boys who kept making jokes, wanting to know if she'd be their captain below deck as well, nudge, nudge, wink, wink, if she'd ever played pirates with her pa.s.sengers, because they wouldn't mind pillaging and plundering. At that she'd pulled out the baseball bat she kept beneath her captain's chair and asked if anyone needed their b.a.l.l.s rearranged or if they wanted to sit down and shut up for the rest of the tour.

They'd gone with sitting down and shutting up.

She'd gotten a call from Jake the second the last of her pa.s.sengers debarked.

”You have problems with pa.s.sengers, you let me kick their a.s.s, you don't need to do it,” he said. ”You're not alone out there, I'm always in your ear.”

Literally. They were in constant communication when she was on the water via comms. ”Maybe sometimes I want to do my own a.s.s kicking,” she said.

”My point is that you don't have to.”

”It's a good stress reliever,” she said.

”Uh huh. As good as sleeping with the guy you haven't been honest with and then shoving him bare-a.s.s naked into your dumbwaiter to avoid your ex, your boss, and your best friend?”

The air left her lungs in one big whoosh. ”Who told you?”

”Eddie would snitch on his mama for food or cash, you know that.”