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She rubbed her palms over her thighs. His eyes followed the movement.
“If you’re planning to pay me to sleep with you, don’t bother,” she informed him. Might as well cut to the chase.
He shook his head. “I wasn’t going to pay you.”
Her mouth dropped open involuntarily, causing him to chuckle.
“I don’t have to pay for sex,” he explained. “Though I’m sure you’d be worth every penny.”
No Finn didn’t have to pay for sex. She was proof enough that a few glances from him had a woman ready to throw her virtue and anything else of value out the window. But if he didn’t need a prostitute, then why was he in her room?
They stood in a face off, both appearing to be waiting for the other to speak.
“I enjoyed your dance,” he finally told her.
“And you needed to comehereto tell me that?” She looked around the spartan room. A couch, a bed, a bowl of condoms—everything a person needed to carry out a night of regrets. Only she was here with Finn and she’d never regret being with him. Of course, he had no idea who she was. It wasn’t really her he wanted. Jealousy pinched her gut.
Finn’s gaze followed hers around the room. “I came here because I like privacy.”
“For talking?”
“For fucking.”
Gretchen’s breath caught in her throat, and her heart tried to pound right out of her chest. “What makes you think I’d be interested”—she paused and cleared the lump from her throat—“in fucking you?”
He shrugged his muscled shoulders, moving his shirt over the hard planes of his chest. “You were doing such a thorough job of it with your eyes. I thought we’d see if the real thing was as good.”
He pursed his full lips and her stomach twisted. Maybe she’d looked too long from the stage, but she’d been unable to help it. Finn had always fascinated her, and his role in this world was another facet she craved to uncover about the man. Not to mention, he’d looked ridiculously hot and dangerous lounging against the wall in his black slacks and button up, the sleeves rolled up to expose his strong, tanned forearms.
Still, she forced a snicker. “I can’t even see from the stage. Sorry to get your hopes up.” She pushed passed him. She’d have that drink after all. Sometimes she forgot how frustrating Finnegan James could be. Apparently, he didn’t have to change his whole demeanor when he changed his name the way she did.
He followed her. “Because of the lights?”
He stood with his chest dangerously close to her bare back. Goosebumps bloomed on her skin, a sensation she would’ve gladly welcomed two weeks ago in her hotel room, but she couldn’t afford it here.
“Yes.” She took a glass from the shelf and filled it with brown liquid. “Thankfully I can’t see anyone from the stage once the lights come on.” Or else she’d never be able to finish a dance. It was bad enough to know men watched her, to imagine what they were thinking. She’d never be able to perform if she had to see those thoughts playing out on their lascivious faces.
“But you were watching me before.” His breath, cool and smelling of the whiskey he’d drank, danced across her nape. “And after.” He bent then, rubbing his nose up her neck to the spot behind her ear that caused her knees to weaken. “That look told me you aren’t as innocent as they say you are, Lilah.”
Gretchen’s heart squeezed. For a moment she’d forgotten this game they were involved in and let herself believe Finn wantedher. Obviously, she hadn’t learned anything over the years when it came to him. She’d never have him. Whether because he was more honorable than he believed or because he simply didn’t want her, she’d never get what she wanted from him. Not as Gretchen anyway.
She lifted the glass to her mouth and threw it back, relishing the burn of the liquid fire sliding through her chest. Gretchen couldn’t have Finn, but Lilah would be expected to give Jay Finley whatever he wanted. She placed the empty glass as gently as possible on the counter and leaned back until her body brushed against Finn’s.
“You’re right,” she conceded. “I’m not. I’m picky.” She brushed her ass against the front of his slacks. “Most of the men who proposition me are . . . lacking.”
A low rumbling sound came from Finn’s chest.
“You’re not lacking though, are you?” she purred.
“Do you want to find out, little dancer?” He slipped his hands to her waist. His calloused palms scratched across her bare skin and made her shiver.
She reached behind her and cupped him between the thighs, filling her hand with warm, hard male. No, Finn James certainly wasn’t lacking.
“Ah fuck,” he murmured.
His tortured curse sent tingles of pleasure through her body. She turned and reached for his belt. Slipping the leather free, she pressed her mouth to his. The heat hit her immediately, as it always did when she touched Finn. How had he walked away from an attraction so obvious and intense? She slipped her hand into his pants, and he moaned, a moan that warmed her core. For the first time, she stroked her naked palm against the hot skin of his shaft.
He wouldn’t walk away tonight.
