She loved his smile, and she loved how protective he was. When she was a little girl, she knew he would watch out for her, and when she was in high school and at the university, she knew that if she ever really got into trouble, all she had to do was call him, and he would help her. Yes, he was FBI, and he was trained to catch the bad guys and keep the good ones safe, but it was more than that. He was Finn, and in her heart he was still that hero. She hoped one day he’d realize she would always be there for him, too.
“Peyton?”
“Yes, the notes,” she remembered. “Let’s see. Don’t trust a man who comes to dinner with a ferret in his pocket. That’s one.”
Finn’s phone buzzed, indicating he had a text. He put the cookie back in the tin and quickly read the message.
She wanted to ask if the text came from Danielle.
“Mark wants to talk to you. You haven’t called him yet, have you?”
“Who’s Mark?”
“Mark Campbell, the attorney. I wrote his name and phone number—”
“Oh yes, the attorney.” She closed the tin and put it on the table. “How much does he charge for a consult?”
“It’s free advice. He has some suggestions for you.”
She didn’t want to talk about the attorney now. She wanted him to kiss her. How could he resist? She was such a seductress with her baggy clothes, her limp hair, and no makeup. How could he keep his hands off her?
“Mimi called today,” she said. She sat back against the cushions. “They’re all back home. Randolph and Drew and Eileen, the big happy family. It will be mighty interesting to see what happens tomorrow when Drew returns to work. I worry that he will hire my replacement. She could be in the same predicament I was, and what if she doesn’t have a way out? What if she can’t leave? She would be trapped with him.”
“I’m glad you’re going to stop him,” he said as he stood.
She thought he was planning to leave, and she wanted him to stay. “I was wondering,” she began hesitantly.
“Yes?”
“If I comb my hair, will you kiss me?”
He didn’t say a word. He stared into her eyes for several seconds, and then his gaze moved to her mouth. Slowly he pulled her to her feet and wrapped her in his arms. He didn’t kiss her right away but held her against him. His hands stroked her back, sliding under her thick sweatshirt.
Finn loved the softness of her warm skin. His hands moved up, and when he realized she wasn’t wearing a bra, he groaned and wanted to pull the shirt off and cover her with his body. She kissed the pulse at the base of his neck, then kissed his chin. “This is crazy,” he said, his voice a rough whisper.
The day’s growth of whiskers tickled Peyton’s lips. She rubbed her cheek against his, inhaling his masculine scent, and sighed, “If you don’t want to—”
“Oh, I want to,” he said. Taking her face in his hands, he covered her mouth with his. His tongue sank inside, coaxing a response. She was soon trembling and wanting more.
She loved the taste of him, loved the way his mouth felt sealing hers. When at last he ended the kiss and lifted his head, the intensity in his expression thrilled her. He wanted her.
And she wanted him.
So this was what desire felt like. Real desire. Every part of her body reacted to him, and she had trouble catching her breath. Her skin tingled for more of his touch; her breasts ached, and a warm feeling invaded her limbs as the heat pooled inside her.
She began to unbutton his shirt, and he put his hand on top of hers. “Are you sure?”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately, letting him know how much she ached for him.
Lifting her into his arms, he carried her to her bedroom. When he reached for the doorknob, she said, “No, I’m across the hall.”
Amazed that she could speak a coherent word, she put her head on his shoulder. Her heart was beating like a drum, and she could hear the pulsing sound in her ears. Was he having the same reaction to her? Did he crave her the way she craved him?
He put her down beside the bed, and she watched him remove his gun and badge and lay both on the table next to the headboard. He turned to her while he undressed. He was magnificent. She caught the thought before she spoke it out loud. He had a swimmer’s body, all muscle. She stepped closer and put her hand on his chest directly over his heart, feeling it pound under her fingertips. The muscles across his chest and upper arms were like steel, but warm.
Finn couldn’t wait a second longer. The ache to be inside her intensified. He began to undress her, and she tried to help but she kept kissing him as she struggled to get out of her clothes. Her sweatshirt was like a heavy blanket, and he helped her tug it over her head. When he finally succeeded, he dropped her clothes on the floor and looked down at her full breasts and narrow waist. He was in awe.
He followed her down on the bed and covered her, gently nudging her legs apart. He settled himself between her thighs, his arousal pressed intimately against her pelvis. Burying his face in the side of her neck, he groaned with sheer bliss. “You feel so good, so soft.”
Peyton was overwhelmed. Finn, naked, wrapped around her, holding her, warming her with his hot hard body. Never had she experienced anything as wonderful as this. Never. Should she tell him? Would he stop if she did? She didn’t want to disappoint him.
She began to caress his shoulders, loving the feel of his strength. Her touch was light as she stroked him, moving lower to the base of his spine. He was nuzzling her neck, causing shivers to cascade all the way to her toes. It was heavenly.
“I know you’ve been with other women . . . of course you have . . . and I—”
His kiss stopped her confession—a long drugging kiss that let her know how much he wanted her. He lifted up on his elbows, saw the desire in her eyes, and said, “I don’t care about your past, or the men you’ve taken to your bed. Forget them. You’re with me now.”
Forget them? He had no idea how easy that was going to be. She tried one last time. “But I—”
His mouth firmly settled on hers again, and the kiss became so consuming she stopped trying to talk. He made love to her with his mouth, his tongue moving in and out, teasing, tormenting. His chest hair tickled her breasts as he kissed her neck, then moved lower, his open mouth hot against the valley between her breasts. She arched against him when he ran his tongue across the sensitive nipple. She clung to him, her nails digging into his shoulders, demanding more. He was driving her wild, and she felt a profound need to make him feel the same.
“Finn . . . let me . . .” She lost the thought as she fought the sensations coursing through her. His hand had moved down between her thighs and his fingers were stroking her, making her burn.
Finn loved the way she moaned, the way she moved restlessly against him. Her response was so uninhibited. He kissed her navel and continued on, nudging her thighs farther apart, making her more demanding now, more out of control.
Peyton nearly screamed when he began to stroke her with his tongue. She thought she would die from the pleasure, but losing control scared her.
“Finn, no . . . no more,” she cried out. Her hands tore at the sheets, and even as she was telling him to stop, her hips were moving against him begging for more.
“It’s okay. Let it happen,” he urged. “Ah, Peyton, you taste so good.”
Suddenly he rose up and cupped the sides of her face, kissing her almost savagely.
Their passion erupted like a raging wildfire, uncontrollable and fierce. She was desperate to know all of him. “I want to touch you, to take you into my mouth, to know what you taste like,” she panted. “Let me, Finn . . .”
She was shaking from head to toe, wanting to please him the way he pleased her, yet unsure how. He rolled onto his back and let her have her way. She started with his stomach, placing wet kisses around his navel, then mo
ved lower to kiss and caress him.
His reaction was so intense, he couldn’t let her continue for long, knowing it would be all over for him before he satisfied her. He roughly lifted her, pushed her onto her back, and reached for the packet he had placed on the nightstand. When he was ready, he braced himself on top of her and pushed her thighs apart. He thought to enter her slowly so that both of them could savor the incredible feeling of coming together, becoming one.
“You’re mine, Peyton,” he whispered, his voice raspy with his need.
“Yes,” she said on a moan. “Please . . . I want you . . . now, Finn.”
Her need overrode his desire to go slowly. He was desperate to have her. He wrapped her in his arms and thrust into her. He felt the resistance and heard her gasp, but it was too late. He was fully embedded inside her. He stayed perfectly still, and it nearly killed him. She was so tight, so perfect. She squeezed him, and all he wanted to do was plunge into her again and again until they both found release. Beads of perspiration covered his brow, and his jaw was clenched tight.
“Are you okay? Do you want me to . . . Did I . . .”
She wound her fingers through his hair and pulled him to her. Kissing him, she pushed against him with her hips. She’d felt a sharp pain when he’d entered her, but it was quickly gone, and now the feel of him inside her made her want more.
He began to move, slower now, more careful. Each thrust a little deeper, a little more out of control. He stroked the need inside her until she was writhing beneath him and pleading for more and more of the exquisite sensation. Her moans urged him on, excited him. He was more forceful now, delving deeper with each thrust, the pace growing faster. She drew her knees up and met each thrust with equal passion. All restraint was gone. She cried out and held on to him as her orgasm consumed her.
Finn felt the first tremors and knew she was going to climax. When she tightened around him, he found his own release. It was staggering.
They stayed entwined for long minutes. He buried his head in the pillow, letting the sweet scent of her hair fill his nostrils, his breathing still harsh and his heartbeat still racing.
He was reeling from the revelation. She was a virgin. He knew he needed to talk to her about it. He kissed her neck and finally found the strength to move. Lifting up on his elbows, he looked down at her. God, she was beautiful. Her eyes were closed and she was still trying to catch her breath. For some reason that made him arrogantly proud. He’d made her lose control, and once that had happened, damn, she was wild. Her lips were swollen and rosy. He gently kissed them, then rolled to his side and stared up at the ceiling while he thought about what he would say to her. Needing a few more minutes to clear his head, he got out of bed and walked into the bathroom.
The second his warm body left her, Peyton began to shiver. She was still trying to recover from what had just happened to her. It was the most amazing thing she’d ever experienced. When they had started making love, she’d thought it was rather pleasant. Afterward, that analysis was laughable. She now understood the true definition of ecstasy: mind-blowing. Yes, definitely mind-blowing.
She knew she had pleased him and that he’d been satisfied, but it would have been nice if he’d told her so. She was feeling a bit vulnerable. Was that all part of the aftermath? she wondered. She thought she heard him muttering but she wasn’t sure. She got out of bed and put on her pink robe. The fabric pushed against her breasts and she realized they were sore. She kept glancing at the bathroom door while she tied the belt at her waist.
Frustrated now, she sat on the bed, her back against the headboard with one ankle crossed over the other, and waited for him. It had been only a minute or two since he’d shut the door, but every second felt like a minute. When he returned from the bathroom, he was dressed in his jeans. He reached for his shirt and put it on. Was he planning to leave without saying a word? It was a good thing she wasn’t sensitive, she told herself, because he was frowning at her. He couldn’t be disappointed . . . could he?
Finn didn’t button his shirt. He threaded his fingers through his hair, took a deep breath, and sat down on the side of the bed. She moved to sit beside him.
“Did I hurt you?” His voice was soft and caring.
“No, you didn’t.”
Finn stared at her for a long minute. “Okay,” he said, nodding. He didn’t believe her, but he wasn’t going to argue. “Why didn’t you tell me you were a virgin?” His voice wasn’t quite so caring now. There was a tinge of anger.
“I did try while we were . . .”
“It was a little late then, wasn’t it? Why the hell didn’t you tell me before I took your clothes off?”
Peyton was confused. Was he angry or feeling guilty? Neither reaction made sense. She stood and glared at him. “My mistake. I should have put it on my résumé. Of course, if I had, I’d have to revise it now, wouldn’t I?”
He ignored her sarcasm. “There were plenty of times—”
“No, you’re right. When I saw you at the church, I should have told you then. I should have said, ‘Finn, it’s so good to see you again. I’m still a virgin. Are you in the wedding?’ Or how about while we were having dinner. I could have told you then. I could have said, ‘Are you enjoying the shrimp? I’m a virgin. Would you like dessert?’”
She tried to leave the room, but he grabbed her hips and pulled her down on his lap. She didn’t fight, but put her arms around his neck instead. The tenderness in his eyes was almost her undoing.
“I don’t understand why you’re so angry,” she said.
“I’m not angry.”
“You were.”
She was gently rubbing the back of Finn’s neck, driving him to distraction. She looked so intent on their conversation, he didn’t think she was aware of what she was doing.
“No,” he assured. “I wasn’t angry. I was surprised.” He almost laughed. Surprised didn’t quite describe how he had felt. “I just didn’t expect . . .”
He’d been so rough with her, so forceful when he’d entered her. That thought led to another and he remembered how tight and hot she had been . . . how perfect.
Peyton waited for an explanation. When he didn’t continue, she said, “Okay, you’re feeling guilty.”
He slowly shook his head. “No.”
“If I had told you, if you had known, would you have made love to me?”
He had to think about his answer. His immediate thought was no, he wouldn’t have. They both had been carried away by the moment. Her first time should be with someone special. It should matter. He tried to convince himself that he would have kept his distance, that he wouldn’t have let things go so far, but he finally decided to be honest with himself. Hell yes, he would have taken her. Being with Peyton had mattered to him. The first time he kissed her he’d known he would have her, and now the thought of any other man touching her angered him. It was crazy and illogical. But there it was all the same.
“Answer me,” she demanded. “If you had known, would you have—”
“Yes.” He was emphatic. “But I would have taken it much slower, and I wouldn’t have been so rough with you. I would have made it easier for you . . . made it better.”
Talking about it, thinking about how good it had been, was making him hard again. Her robe was partially open, exposing one beautiful leg. The temptation was too great to resist, and he began to stroke her silky skin from her knee to the top of her thigh and back.
“What are you doing?”
His hand moved up to her hip. “I like touching you.”
She liked it, too. He was making her hot, and yet she was shivering.
He gave her a slow, wet kiss. She put her hand on top of his. “It couldn’t be any better.” She looked down and watched him untie her belt. She could stop him, but she didn’t want to.
“Sure it could,” he promised, and then he set about pro
ving it.
ELEVEN
Finn left her bed a little after two in the morning. She lost count of the number of times he’d asked her if she was all right. Did he expect her to become hysterical when he walked out the door, or at the very least break down and cry?
All she wanted was sleep. There would be plenty of time to miss him tomorrow and all the days after.
No one would know how she felt. She was determined to keep her feelings bottled up inside her. No whining to anyone, no matter how much her heart ached. In high school, when her hormones were playing havoc with her emotions, she sometimes felt in need of a padded cell. Everything was so much more intense and dramatic back then, but she found a way to deal with a broken heart. Each time she suffered rejection—and God only knew there were plenty of those—she would get in the car and go for a drive. She’d play every bad love song she could find and sing along, wailing loud enough to crack glass. Other drivers who pulled up beside her at red lights and saw her hunched over the steering wheel crying and singing her heart out would look so appalled.
Those days were behind her now. Her hormones were under control, and she didn’t carry on like that anymore. She couldn’t remember the last time she had had a good, long cry. Her way of handling sorrow or misery these days was to keep busy and try not to dwell on things that couldn’t be changed. Eventually the painful feelings would lessen and fade away.
She didn’t want her feelings for Finn to fade away, and she didn’t want to forget what they had shared. It had been so beautiful, so perfect. But now he was gone, and she had a hundred things to do before she left for Bishop’s Cove. There simply wasn’t time to think about him.
And yet she did. She stood in the shower a long while, letting the hot water pour over her shoulders and soothe her muscles. She was sore everywhere from their vigorous lovemaking. Her breasts and her inner thighs felt bruised, remembrances of how demanding both of them had been.