Neck & Neck (28 page)

She grinned. “Then why am I staying?”

He grinned back. “Why are
we
staying?” he corrected her. “Hell, I wasn’t even invited.”

She looked over at the other guests again, then frowned. “But what about Danetta? You can’t leave her here alone. Dean will—”

“Dean will never know what hit him,” Finn said. “Literally, if there’s any justice in the world. Just let me talk to her,” he added. “She seems to be getting along fine with everyone over there, and she doesn’t get the chance to attend many parties like this. She might want to stay. Even if it means having to talk to Waterman all night.”

Finn caught Danetta’s eye and dipped his head toward the bar, and she excused herself from the crowd and met him there. He started to explain the situation to her, then realized he honestly wasn’t sure what the situation was, other than that he and Natalie wanted to be somewhere else. Though he was pretty sure they both wanted to be somewhere else alone. So he only told Danetta that Natalie wasn’t feeling well, and he’d offered to take her home. Instead of seeming inconvenienced, however, Danetta seemed obviously delighted by the news.

“No problem, Finn,” she said. “I’m having a surprisingly good time. The way you made it sound, I thought Dean was going to be an asshole.”

“Danetta, Dean
is
an asshole.”

She made a soft
tsk
ing sound and pursed her lips prettily. “I think he’s just misunderstood,” she said.

When she looked over at the man in question and smiled, Finn turned his gaze in that direction, too. Waterman was giving her what was probably supposed to be a smoldering look, but which actually made Finn think of those FBI Most Wanted websites, under the heading, “
Sexual Predators
.” Danetta gave him a little one-finger wave, then looked back at Finn.

“Misunderstood,” she repeated. “And a guy who just needs . . .” She arched her brows and smiled wistfully. “Who needs a firm hand.”

That almost made Finn want to hang around to see what would happen later. Almost. But Natalie was waiting for him, and the night was young, and she looked and smelled better than a woman had a right to look or smell, and they were from two different worlds, which, on second thought, maybe ought to get to know each other better.

“Have fun, Danetta,” he told her.

“Oh, I will, Finn. I will. As, I’m sure, will you.”

They exchanged a final knowing smile—even though neither could really know what they were getting into tonight—and parted ways. Finn turned around to see that Natalie had already collected her purse and was edging her way toward the front door.

With luck, he thought, Waterman wouldn’t even see them leave. And with a little more luck . . .

Well. Suffice it to say, he was suddenly feeling luckier by the minute.

 

 

NATALIE SUPPOSED IT HAD BEEN AT THE BACK OF HER head all night that she and Finn would ultimately wind up in his hotel room. It was probably what had made her want to leave Dean’s party with him in the first place. Oh, sure, they’d made a big show of driving as far as Frankfort Avenue to have dinner at Varanese, her favorite restaurant in Crescent Hill, where they’d done a lot of talking about lots of important stuff. Stuff like movies and books and the latest episode of
Bones
. And then they’d strolled down to L & N Wine Bar to share a sampler there. And do a lot more talking about lots of other important stuff. Stuff like restaurants and favorite foods and the merits of wine versus beer.

But after that, even though they’d been closer to Natalie’s house, they’d somehow found their way back to Finn’s room at the Brown instead. Probably because both of them had been dancing around the inevitable all night, maybe even longer. And a man like Finn would want the outcome to be on his turf, not hers. Not that Natalie minded. The thought of . . . the inevitable . . . taking place at her house would make it much more intimate than if it happened at a hotel. Hotels were, after all, the very definition of temporary.

And temporary, she assured herself, was all this would be. Finn wasn’t the sort of man to tangle himself up in a relationship. And hey, Natalie wasn’t looking for a relationship, anyway. She and Finn found each other attractive. Neither was committed to anyone else. They were consenting adults. Two people who both wanted something and saw no reason to deny themselves. Just because, over the course of the evening—and the week—she’d come to like him . . . a lot . . . that didn’t make any difference. She liked lots of people a lot. That didn’t mean anything. Necessarily.

She pushed her thoughts away and focused on the man instead. They’d stopped by the bar long enough to order a bottle of wine, then brought it, and two glasses, up to the room with them. She watched as Finn opened the former, his big hands surprisingly graceful as he completed the task. She liked the fact that he could be so comfortable with beer and wine, appreciated how he seemed at home in both high society and low. Of course, he was the sort of man who could make hosing out garbage cans look like high art—not to mention really, really hot—but that was beside the point. The point was . . .

Ah, hell. Natalie had forgotten what the point was. Just that Finn was here with her now, and that was all that mattered.

“I like the city you call home, Natalie,” he said as he splashed wine into each of the glasses.

She smiled. “Thanks. I like it, too. It’s kind of a little-known secret, I think. People who visit for the first time are always kind of surprised at what a great restaurant scene and arts community we have here.”

He picked up both glasses and crossed the room to where she stood, looking out the window at the city lights beyond.

She accepted the glass extended toward her and continued, “When I was a teenager, I used to think I’d move somewhere else after I graduated from college, but I honestly can’t imagine living anywhere else now.”

She hadn’t meant for the comment to sound like she was fishing for what Finn’s intentions might be, but somehow, it came out sounding that way. Finn seemed to think so, too, because he paused with his glass halfway to his mouth, then lowered it again, staring into it instead of looking at Natalie.

So she figured, what the hell, and went for broke. “I mean, everything you could possibly want, you can find it here. The winters aren’t too harsh, and the summers aren’t too unbearable, and the springs and autumns are spectacular. The people are friendly, and the community’s diverse. It’s a nice place to raise kids.” She wasn’t sure why she added that last. It wasn’t as if she had plans to start a family at any point in the near future. Maybe she just needed to be clear on everything before they got started. So she’d know what she was getting herself into. If there was any chance—

“I’m a West Coast boy, born and bred, Natalie. I like Seattle, even if it hasn’t always been the kindest city to me. It’s where Russell’s center of operations is. Where my life is.”

She nodded at that. Okay. So now she was clear on everything.

Finn seemed to think it necessary to clarify it further, though, because he added, “Look, Natalie, I like you. I like being with you. I don’t think I’m wrong in assuming we both know where this is headed tonight.”

“No, you’re not wrong about that,” she agreed.

“Then I think you need to know that when my evenings end this way, it’s without strings. It happens because of a physical reaction, not an emotional one.” He smiled a little halfheartedly. “An itch that needs to be scratched, you know?”

She nodded again.

“And that’s okay with you?” he asked.

Instead of answering him, she lifted a hand to his cheek, closed her eyes, and pressed her mouth lightly to his. Then, gingerly, she brushed her lips along the strong line of his jaw, down the column of his throat, and into the open collar of his shirt. He smelled so good, a fusion of heat and night and man, and his skin was warm and rough and weathered everywhere she touched him. He was so different from the men she normally met, so much more masculine, so much more confident, so much more daunting, so much more . . .

Just so much more. And he was hers. For tonight. And she told herself that would be enough.

When she moved her hand to his chest, he curled his finger beneath her chin and tilted her head back so that she was looking at him. Then he lowered his head to hers, slowly . . . slowly . . . oh, so slowly . . . and covered her mouth with his. As he deepened the kiss, he circled her waist with both arms to pull her against him, opening his mouth wider. She felt his hands skim lightly over her back, first tracing her spine, then curving over her shoulder blades, then caressing her nape, then tangling in her hair. Instinctively, she lifted her own hands to touch him, too, brushing her palms over his rough face, then along his muscular shoulders, through his silky hair, relishing the heat, the strength, the power that passed beneath her fingertips.

He seemed to touch her everywhere. Each time she inhaled, she filled her nose with the scent of him and her mouth with the taste of him. His heart pounded against hers, their pulses mixing and mingling until she couldn’t tell which was whose. Their breathing became fierce and ragged when his kiss grew more possessive, until it was as if the breath that gave them life joined to become one, too.

With one hand still buried in her hair, Finn drove the other down to her hip, gradually inching it lower to curve over her fanny and push her body into his. Natalie jerked her hips upward, rubbing her pelvis against his, sinuously, seductively, answering his growl of satisfaction with one of her own. He pushed his hand higher, until he encountered the buttons at the side of her shirt, and as he freed them, one, two, three, he danced her away from the window and closer to his bed. Then he bunched the silky fabric in his fist and drew it upward, until she could feel a whisper of warm air on her heated back. His fingers stole to the closure of her bra and made short work of it, and he splayed his fingers wide over her naked skin and tasted her more deeply still.

So Natalie tugged free his shirttails and dipped her hand inside, guiding her fingers over the swells of muscle and sinew on his back. Then she moved her hand to his front, skimming the soft hair of his chest and the bumps of musculature along his torso. He was hard where she was soft, planed where she was curved, rough where she was smooth. But he was as hot as she was, as needy, as demanding.

She felt his hand at her waist, tugging down the side zipper on her pants, felt the airy crepe pool around her ankles as it fell. He tucked his hand under the lacy fabric of her panties, curving over her bare flesh, stroking her sensitive skin until she grew damp between her legs. But when he dipped one confident finger into the delicate cleft of her behind, she nearly came undone.

“Oh,” she murmured against his lips. “Oh, Finn . . .”

But he covered her mouth again before she could say more. Not that there was anything else to say. Much better to do. Do things to him and with him, and let him do things to her in return. Seeming to understand, he filled her mouth with his tongue and drove his other hand into her panties, pushing her hard against his ripening erection. In turn, Natalie wedged her hand between their bodies and pressed her palm to the full length of him, rubbing him through the fabric of his trousers until he murmured a satisfied sound. He moved himself against her, increasing her rhythm, so she unfastened and opened his pants, too, and dipped her hand inside to cover him, bare skin on bare skin, the way he was touching her. He was so big, so hot, so hard in her hand. She curled her fingers over the taut head of his cock, then circled them fully around his long shaft to caress him.

For long moments, they only kissed and touched, until one of them—and Natalie wasn’t sure if it was Finn or her—finally started moving, slowly and deliberately over the short distance that was left between them and the bed. Finn skimmed her shirt and bra from her shoulders, then turned her around so that her back was facing him. He pushed her hair aside to place a soft, chaste kiss on her nape, then pulled her back against him, his hard cock surging against her back, sending fire through her entire body. When he nuzzled the curve where her neck joined her shoulder, she reached back with both hands to weave her fingers through his hair. She deliberately chose the position so Finn could cover her breasts with both hands, and when he did, she arched her back to push herself more completely into his touch.

He dragged his mouth along the sensitive flesh of her neck and shoulder, his hot palms squeezing and stroking and caressing her breasts. As he rolled her nipple under the pad of his thumb, his other hand brushed lower, along the tender skin of her torso, his middle finger slipping into her navel as he passed it. Then he pushed his hand into her panties, found her hot, wet center, and buried his fingers in the sensitive folds of her flesh.

She gasped at the sensation that shot through her, her fingers tightening in his hair. Still kneading her breast with one hand, he stroked her between her legs with the other, long, leisurely strokes that pushed her to the brink of sanity. He settled his thumb on her clitoris and furrowed all four fingers through her labia, first slow, then fast, then shallow, then deep. Her body went still as he touched her, her breathing coming in rapid little gasps. Bit by bit, he altered his movements, steering his hand back and forth, left and right, drawing circles and spirals until Natalie was rocked by an orgasm that seized her body and sent heat shuddering through her.

For a moment, she felt as if she would stay like this forever, her body fused to Finn’s clever hand, her heart racing in time with his. Then the moment sifted away, and so did she, and she turned to just kiss him and kiss him and kiss him.

After undressing each other, they made their way to the side of the bed, Finn settling both hands on Natalie’s hips as she curled her fingers over his shoulders. He sat and pulled her into his lap facing him, her legs straddling his thighs, opening her to him completely. He roped an arm around her waist and kissed her again, hungry and urgent and deep. She dropped her hand to the head of his cock, palming him again, using the wet release of his passion to lubricate her hand and stroke him, long, leisurely strokes, the way his had been for her. Finn murmured something dark and erotic under his breath, then curled his hands over her ass, matching his caresses to hers and mimicking both in the movement of his tongue inside her mouth.