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Goosebumps bloomed over her bare neck. “I’ll meet you in mine.” Slipping a key into the pocket of his tuxedo pants, she spun on her heel and left him in the middle of the dance floor.
~ ~ ~
Finn berated himself as the elevator climbed to Gretchen’s hotel room. He shouldn’t be going to her with the clear intention of fucking her senseless. He’d told her a decade ago they were a bad idea, nothing had changed, only he couldn’t convince his dick of it. From the moment he’d realized the sexy blonde from the church was Brock’s little sister all grown up, he hadn’t been able to talk the damn thing in to standing down.
He wouldn’t feel guilty for wanting her and acting on it. She’d been willing as an eighteen-year-old virgin, and he’d done the admirable thing and turned her away. She wasn’t an innocent co-ed anymore, she was a grown woman, andshe’dinvited him to her room. It would be rude and idiotic to turn her down again.
His heart banged in his chest as he slipped the key card into the slot and pushed the door opened, but the organ damn near stopped when he spotted Gretchen. He didn’t know what he’d expected. Maybe her stretched out wearing a smile and heels and nothing else. Instead, she was still fully dressed, standing by the window, watching the boats on the river below.
He wished she’d gotten naked. Naked women he knew how to handle, but beautiful women who took his breath away? Well, Gretchen was his first experience with that.
He opened his mouth to tell her what a lovely picture she made in her emerald satin with her blond curls tumbling down her back, but instead he clamped his lips together. What was he thinking? He didn’t tell women they were beautiful. Sexy? Hot? Yes. Never beautiful. Beautiful hinted at emotions other than lust and desire, and he didn’t play with those emotions.
He fought the urge to turn and flee. Despite what he’d said about her being a child years ago, he’d never been a match for Gretchen Christensen. She was the one woman capable of cutting him to his knees, and he wasn’t entirely sure he wouldn’t love every damn second of his surrender.
“I wasn’t sure you’d actually show up,” she greeted without turning.
He imagined striding across the floor, his long legs quickly shortening the distance, and taking her waist in his hands, pulling her back against his chest. He wanted to bend and kiss her neck, as if he could touch her whenever the desire arose.
“I shouldn’t want you like this.” Why did he feel the need to make confessions in her presence?
She did turn now. She no longer wore the cool, polished veneer she’d hid behind the past two days as she stared at him out of emerald eyes that were open and vulnerable, before she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.
She may not be a kid anymore, but he remembered now why he’d pushed her away ten years ago. Gretchen was too good for him. He had nothing to offer a woman like her, he’d never be the type of man to give her the stable life of luxury her mother had groomed her for.
The phone in his pocket vibrated, giving him the excuse he needed to turn away from her and break whatever spell she was weaving around them.
He pulled the phone from his pocket. “I’m sorry.” Turning his back on her, he strode to the door. “What the fuck do you want?” he growled into the phone.
He may be thankful for a moment’s reprieve, but there was only one reason to be getting a call from work—something had gone from sugar to shit.
“I’m two hours away. Can’t Carlisle handle his own damn business for one night?” His gaze moved back to Gretchen.
She still stood by the window, watching him out of narrowed eyes. She was so cool and collected, she’d never fit into the life he lived. Why did that hit him like a fist in the gut? He didn’twantGretchen in his life, he only wanted one night in her bed. Didn’t he?
He turned away again, listening as Grant fed him the information coming from the club. Yep, sugar to shit.
“I’ll be there.” He ended the call and shoved the phone into his pocket. Then, taking a deep breath, he faced Gretchen.
“Gretch,” he started, but she cut him off with a quick jerk of her head. She smoothed her hands over the bodice of her satin dress, drawing his attention to the swell of her breasts over the top of the fabric and the nip of her waist before her hips flared. He wanted his hands on those hips, his tongue tracing the edge of her dress.
“Go, handle whatever you have to handle. I should get back downstairs anyway.”
“It’s probably best,” he tried again. “I was right to stop this years ago.”
~ ~ ~
“Of course,” Gretchen choked out. She’d been so sure he couldn’t break her heart again, but disappointment weighed heavy in it now.
Her own phone vibrated on top of her dresser and she turned to answer it. Her partner. Of course. “Neil, honey, I was waiting on your call.” She smiled brightly at Finn. “I wish I was there too.”
Finn glared back at her and Gretchen met his dark gaze with a careless shrug. She swallowed her tears when he spun on his heel and stalked from the room, barely refraining from slamming the door behind him. She pulled in a shuddering breath before walking to the door and sliding the lock into place.
“What have you got?” she asked Neil.
“Shit hit the fan at Carlisle’s club,” he explained. “You picked a hell of a weekend to go on sabbatical. He’s calling in the big guns for this.”
Gretchen closed her eyes and leaned against the door, realizing why Carlisle’s right-hand man had seemed so familiar.
