“Finnegan.” His name caught in her throat, or floated to her clit. Either way she sounded like Phoebe inFriendswhen she had the cold and that weird nasally voice.
He tipped his head, a slow soul-melting smile spreading across his face. “Hey.”
“Wh-what are you doing here? Where’s Cleo?”
“She went out to see Linc.”
Molly toyed with the edges of her shirt. “In her pjs?”
Finn’s deep chuckle should have been illegal. “She threw on some yoga pants and a sweater before she headed out. She wanted to give us space.”
He reached out to drag his knuckles across her cheek and her breath stopped. Her faithless, double-crossing lungs just up and quit processing oxygen. His eyes tracked her face, dropping slowly over her nose, lingering on her mouth before moving lower.
As long as her heart kept scampering in her chest she’d be fine. Who needed oxygen anyway, right?
Something flickered across his eyes before he reached out and stroked the hem of her shirt. “Turn around, Molly.”
“Why?” Her chin trembled, her hands shook, her heart was pounding so fast she was sure it was making the room spin.
“Because I’m pretty sure you stole my shirt. And I want to see my name across your shoulders.” His grin was wicked, and his eyes filled with heat.
She told her feet to move, but nothing happened. Her entire body was falling under his spell a limb at a time and not a single piece of her was responding to her own brain’s commands. She needed to regain some semblance of her dignity, so she folded her arms, narrowed her eyes, and opened her mouth. “If you’re going to steal it back, you’re going to have to take it from me.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, her skin danced with an aching need. Her nipples strained against the soft, worn fabric, like if they just reached out a tiny bit more, he’d touch them and put her out of her misery.
He arched an eyebrow. “What if I don’t want it back, but I want you naked?”
Brain. Fried. All available power had been directed to her core. If she checked, she was a bazillion percent sure she’d find a damp patch on her shorts. He took a step back and shook his head.
“Molly.” He scrubbed his jaw. “Fuck. This isn’t why I came here tonight.”
He picked up his hand in slow motion, like it was a montage in an old 80’s movie, and glided the pad of his thumb over her left nipple. Her flesh was still tender and bruised close to her armpit but his caress was so gentle, so soft, that all she felt was a deep yearning.
“This isn’t why I came.” He repeated as though torn between what he needed to do and what he wanted to do.
“Why did you come?” When he didn’t reply, she cradled his face. “Why did you come, Finny?”
His lazy once-over of her from head to toe and back again left a trail like he’d touched every piece of her. “I want to do things to you, Molly.” His voice was low, heavy with the weight of what he said. “I want to fuck that pretty pink pussy until your eyes roll back in your head and you don’t remember your own name.”
Her jaw dropped open and her soul left her body. Finn O’Brien was a dirty talker. She was dead. Deceased. Former. No longer present on the mortal plane.
“But I came here to have a more serious discussion with you.” He shifted his weight, reaching down to move the crotch of his pants.
Fuck. He was hard. The outline of his cock pressed against his sweats. “Finn…” She reached out, her hand twitched, and she pulled it to her face, biting down on her thumb to keep from tugging the band, freeing his cock, and sucking him all the way to O-Town.
“Make no mistake, I want to do filthy things to you Molly Morrison. I do. But…” He shook his head. “Not to be that guy, but I think we need to talk. I want to lay my cards out on the table.”
She wanted him to lay her out on the table.
Finn’s head canted and mischief danced in his eyes. Had she said that out loud?
“Yeah, Doll. You said it out loud.”
Her entire body was broken. Nothing worked the way it was supposed to. “What did you want to talk about?”
“I know you don’t do serious, you don’t do commitment, and you avoid feeling feels at all cost. But I need you to know this is real for me. I’ve had feelings for you for as long as I’ve known you and this…” He waved a hand between them. “This isn’t just some quick fuck, or one and done thing. If we do this, we’re all in, both feet.”
His words washed over her like tequila over ice cubes and her brain clinked against the sides of her skull. What was he saying? Did he mean... commitment? “What does…?” The words got stuck. She cleared her throat and tried again. “What does that mean?”
