Page 41
Fuck me.
“Hey, Poppy Quinn.”
I grip the edge of the door as his gaze sweeps down my body. His grin, cocky yet measured, makes the dimple settle deep into his cheeks. He swallows as he lifts his attention to my bare legs, over the edge of the shortest robe I own, and across my barely covered breasts.
“Hey, Finn Miller,” I say, smirking.
He rolls his shirtsleeves up to his elbows as he walks inside, giving me a straight shot of his sinewy forearms.
The sight of him in my house, wearing a green button-down and my favorite pants I bought for him in Kismet Beach—even though he objected—makes me whimper.
“You’ve been cleaning, I see,” he says, entering the living room. “Glad to know some things stay the same.”
“Yes, it’s a mess, I know.” I blush, wishing I had picked up instead of working this morning. “I logged on to see if—”
“Hey.” He lifts a brow until I take a breath. “Why are you justifying yourself? This is your home. You can do whatever the fuck you want.” He comes to me. “I didn’t mean anything by that. I’m sorry.”
I roll my eyes like it’s nothing … and hope he believes that. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”
He presses a sweet kiss to my forehead, flooding me with warmth that touches places in my heart I didn’t know were still accessible.
It steals my breath, and I swallow before taking a gulp of air.
“Sorry for not being dressed,” I say, peering up at him. “I just got out of the shower and didn’t have time to put clothes on.”
He smirks. “Liar.”
“I mean, I didn’t try that hard. But thirty minutes wasn’t a lot of time.”
His arms wrap around me, dragging my body against his. I can feel his cock pressing against me and his heart thundering against my palm. His eyes sparkle as he searches mine.
“You are so beautiful, Pop.”
I fiddle with his collar, basking in his attention. “All I can think about is getting you out of these clothes.”
He laughs. “For the record, it’s taking every bit of restraint not to pull up the inch of fabric covering your ass and become reacquainted with your sweet, little body.”
“So, what exactly would I need to do to push you over the edge?”
“At this point? Just keep talking.”
I giggle.
“I’ve missed that sound,” he says softly. “My sheets are starting not to smell like you anymore.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
He shakes his head, fighting a grin.
“That’s gross!” I laugh, stepping away from him. “I remember, very vividly, the last thing we did on those sheets. If you’re still sleeping on them …”
“If you come over, I’ll change them.”
I point at him as he sits on the sofa. “Do you know what that sounds like to me? A man who sounds an awful lot like he’s about to give in.” I lift the end of my belt and twirl it. “Should I go ahead and untie this, or do you wanna do it?”
He groans, exhaling through his nose.
My temperature surges as I absorb the heat in his gaze. Despite my loose robe, it feels too tight. My skin feels too tense. I can feel my heart pounding beneath my ribs as I wait for his reaction.
