The Setup Page 11

  With a moan, I dug my fingers into his thick hair and pulled him closer. He crawled onto the couch while I wrapped my legs around his body and fought the urge to tug his shirt open and kiss every inch of him.

  We were a hot mess of tangled limbs, teeth, clawing, and tongue. And it was the most beautiful, chaotic thing I’d ever been a part of.

  In the deepest recess of my mind, my brain was telling me to stop, that he was technically my boss, that we could get into trouble.

  But none of that mattered when his tongue was in my mouth or when his hands were jerking down my joggers like they had one job and one job only—get me naked.

  And I was weak. He tasted so good. I let him, I let him peel my joggers down along with my underwear, I let him touch every aching part of me.

  Again.

  I arched, forget his fingers, his palm was magic. What the hell did he do? Study the art of getting a woman off? Get a PhD in it?

  I panted against him, reaching for him, kissing him hard while he found a sensitive spot that had me rubbing my body against him. “That feels—” We broke apart. His eyes hooded as he increased his pressure. “So good, soooo good.”

  He smirked and kissed me again. “Good, but I want to know when it’s great, I want to feel you explode around my fingers so hard that you can’t move. I want it to be fanfuckingtastic, so let me know when we get there since I’m only good at reading your body—not your mind.”

  Those words would have done it alone.

  For any woman.

  He pressed against me, tortured me, small waves of pleasure built until I had to close my eyes and focus on not doing exactly as he said.

  I was being selfish.

  But he was being so giving, so it made sense, right?

  I don’t know what possessed me to reach for him, to tug at his pants while he worked me into a bubble of frustration, but I needed to touch him, to feel him. I wrapped a hand around him. I squeezed.

  He cursed, and then his hips were pumping while he went deeper, and then I was imagining it was him.

  Just him.

  And I came apart within seconds.

  His chest heaved as I leaned up and continued to move my hand. Finn closed his eyes and gave me full access to one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen.

  I knew I had small hands—never knew how small until that moment as he gripped around my hand, showing me how he wanted it.

  I felt a pulsing through my body at his expression.

  “Fuck,” He gritted his teeth. “Yeah, just like that, oh shit, your hand’s so small, so tight…” He opened his eyes; they were so icy blue it was almost staggering. “I’m close, so close you can—”

  I squeezed tighter and then for some reason bravery just decided to appear, I let go, kicked off my sweats and straddled him on the couch.

  He stared down at me, “What are you—?”

  “Shut up,” I said before I impaled myself on him without thinking of the ramifications of my actions.

  I mean, I was on birth control; he was a virgin; it was fine, right? I moved slowly, up and down.

  He gripped me by the hips. “I’m not going to last long. You feel too good.”

  “You have nothing to compare me to.”

  “I can’t imagine this feeling any better.” He smiled, and then I moved slowly again, arching my back, up and down, until it looked like he was almost in pain.

  “You know…” I leaned over and pressed a kiss to his mouth. “You can let go.”

  “Don’t want to.”

  I kissed him harder, and he cursed against my mouth and drove his hips forward so deep I let out a little gasp. We moved in sync until he grabbed me by the ass and shoved me onto the couch and hovered over me, still connected, still the most beautiful man I’d ever seen in real life.

  Our foreheads touched as he thrust one last time.

  His body shook against mine as he lowered his head to kiss me again, and this time, when I clung to him, I knew I would never want to let go.

  Which meant.

  I was completely screwed.

  And had been, by the one and only, notorious Finn Titus.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Finn

  I was glad I waited.

  That was the first thing I thought when I was sated, lying next to Jillian that night in my bed because I refused to let her sleep in the guest bedroom after that.

  She reluctantly agreed only because she was afraid I’d somehow roll onto Princess and kill her in her sleep. Nice excuse, but I could tell she wanted to stay.

  I just needed to figure out a way to make it more permanent, less I’m doing you a favor.

  Not that she hadn’t done me one.

  But it wasn’t like that.

  I wasn’t just wanting sex from her or dog care.

  I wanted her.

  And I’d made it clear from the first time we touched, that I thought we would be great together, and yet we had to go on a stupid date this Friday with stupid people I had no interest in talking to because, hello, the woman sleeping next to me was perfect in every way.

  I glanced down at her.

  “It’s creepy when I hear your heavy breathing.” She repeated what I’d said earlier and then opened her eyes. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, I was just…” I moved my hands to her ass and squeezed then gave her shorts a little tug. “Thinking.”

  “Oh?” She rolled her eyes but didn’t stop me. “What were you thinking?”

  “Things.” I nodded seriously as I finally got her shorts down so I could touch her bare ass.

  “Things, huh?” She laughed. “How are you awake? It’s three a.m.?”

  “How are you sleeping?” I countered. “It’s three a.m., and we could be naked.”

  She seemed to think about that then said. “I really have nothing to say to that other than you’re one hundred percent right.”

  Her top came flying off.

  Her short bottoms were gone.

  And within seconds, I was inside her, immersed in her soft, sweet heat, the feeling so intense I struggled to breathe, trying like hell to make the feeling last and knowing it probably wouldn’t because I was so deep and she was so tight I wanted to die.

  “You lied,” she said the minute I thrust into her.

  “What?” I was trying damn hard to make this good for her, for us. “What did I lie about?”

  I stopped moving, but even being inside her was the worst form of torture. And I’d been living like a monk, well, sort of, for the past twenty-two years, I wanted to hoard all the treats and hoard them now!

  “You said missionary.” An eyebrow arched. “And yet you wouldn’t know.”

  “But,” I swallowed the fear in my chest and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “I do know, and I’m still right. Watching you while I’m inside you is the most beautiful thing I’ll ever see. This position, when we can see into each other’s souls—this is the best one.”

  It terrified me how much I meant it, how much I wanted this to be more than sex, but I couldn’t read her, and I’d spent years reading women, knowing exactly what they needed to hear and when they needed to hear it.

  But with Jillian, I was at a loss.

  She softened, her eyes darting away for a brief moment. “You can’t say things like that to me.”

  I grinned, my hands itched to keep touching her, to pull her against me and never let go. “Why not?”

  “Because you’ll never get rid of me!” she whined as a throbbing ache built between us. “And how is any guy ever going to compare to you?”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” I pushed deeper, my hips grinding against hers in a totally claiming and possessive move. “First off, there’s never going to be any other guys. Say it…”

  “No guys,” she whimpered. “Ever.”

  “Good.” I pumped my hips harder. “And that’s why you should say yes to dating me.”

  “Maybe.”

  The sound of our bodies slapping toge
ther was so damn erotic I was having trouble concentrating. “Say it.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Say it.”

  “Finn!” She fucking bit into my shoulder as her legs trembled around me, I was already there and thanking my lucky stars that I was lasting more than three seconds.

  “I’ll wear you down.” I kissed her mouth hard before pulling out. “That’s a promise.”

  She turned to me and grinned. “I look forward to it.”

  We shook hands, and it wasn’t lost on me how easy it was with her. Like falling for your best friend.

  I had the best sleep of my life.

  Next to the only woman who I wanted to ever own all of me… partner in crime, and co-worker, Jillian.

  Chapter Twenty

  Jillian

  I wasn’t panicking.

  This wasn’t panic, this feeling deep in my chest.

  It was full-blown obsession.

  For Finn.

  I tried, I really tried to be nonchalant on our way to work, and when he stopped at Starbucks and bought me my drink, and our hands brushed, I tried not to giggle like a schoolgirl.

  And I obviously failed because he leaned over and pressed a kiss to my cheek in a move that was so dang romantic it elicited the sting of tears.

  Why?

  Why did I have to fall for the one guy that could break me? That could make me lose my job?

  The worst part was that I couldn’t hide it, I was the worst actress on the planet, so later that day when I was attempting to act normal during lunch and Finn walked by and winked, I giggled.

  AGAIN.

  I needed to be put down.

  “Saw that.” Slater had snuck up on me. Again.

  I started choking violently on my sandwich and glared. “Saw what?”

  “You. Making eyes at good ol’ Finneas.”

  I grunted and looked away; Slater was too nosy on a good day. Today? He may as well be a detective as he moved around my desk and then leaned against it as if he was staying for a while.

  With a sigh, I put down my sandwich and spun my chair toward him. “Did you need something?”

  “Nope.” He shoved his hands in the pockets of his gray trousers. “Did you have something you needed to discuss?”

  “Nope,” I lied.

  “Uh-huh, you know you can trust me, I won’t tell anyone, and I’m really good at giving stellar dating advice.”

  “Who says I need dating advice?” I blurted out fast and then laughed. “Ridiculous. I’m not dating anyone…”

  “No, but…” He sniffed the air just as Lex walked by us, stopped, walked backward, and then stared at Slater, then at me.

  I immediately started sweating when his eyes landed on me and my turkey sandwich.

  “You.” He pointed his pen at me. “Something’s different.”

  So, here’s the thing, I’d always heard that Lex was a genius and some sort of sex savant and had the nose of a bloodhound. Rumor had it he could smell sex.

  It was stupid.

  Everyone thought it was made up.

  But now?

  Now I was panicking.

  “Her hair’s up,” Slater said smoothly. “She normally wears it down like a shield, and today she’s wearing it up like a lady boss ready for her promotion.”

  “Hmm,” Lex nodded. “You’re right. By the way, how’s it going with the app?”

  “Great.” Another voice joined; I knew that voice. After all, that voice had spent half the night whispering wicked things in my ear and yelling my name. “I was actually just stopping by to grab Jillian so we could pick out this week’s dates. She’s picking mine; I’m picking hers.”

  “Good idea.” Lex smiled at both of us, then eyed Finn a little too long for my taste before leaving.

  I exhaled like I’d been holding my breath for two years.

  Slater looked between us with a dopey grin on his face. “So, how was it?”

  “What?” We both said in unison.

  He burst out laughing. “Best day ever. Have fun, kids! And I do mean that. Have all the fun…”

  “He high?” Finn asked once he was out of earshot.

  “No, he’s just… nosy.” I grumbled and took a sip of my water.

  “Come on,” Finn jerked his head toward his office. “We can pick out dates and talk.”

  “Right.” Talk, he wanted to talk? Oh no, this is the part in the story where the guy says it was fun, but it can’t happen again, or it’s not you, it’s me.

  I braced myself for the emotional impact and didn’t register that Finn had both closed and locked the door until his hands were jerking me against him and his mouth was pressed against mine, his tongue sliding along my bottom lip like he’d skipped lunch on purpose so he could feast on me.

  I lost all sense of boundaries in his arms.

  Which meant I opened my mouth to him with a moan and clung to his shirt like I was afraid to let go.

  His hands found my leather skirt before I knew what was happening, he was lifting it past my hips and pulling my thong down my thighs. I stepped out of it, heels still on, and managed to keep my mouth firmly pressed to his, tasting coffee and cinnamon on his tongue. He shoved me against his desk.

  “Jillian…” He moaned my name. “I can’t get enough of you.”

  “Same,” I murmured. “Only, you, not me—stop laughing and kiss me.”

  I dug my fingers into his hair, not caring that I was messing it up. He hiked my right leg up around his hip while I tore open his pants with my fingers and freed him.

  He was all smooth, hot, hard, throbbing beneath my fingers as I positioned him where I wanted him.

  This wasn’t me.

  Office sex wasn’t me.

  And yet I couldn’t stop myself as he thrust in to the hilt.

  I gasped at the sudden pressure, my thighs clenched, holding him there as he pulled back and locked eyes with me, moving slowly while my eyes rolled to the back of my head.

  “I missed you.” Our foreheads touched as his movements intensified. A few pens fell to the floor, followed by something else on his desk.

  “Missed you too.” And I did. I missed him even when I was with him.

  This was bad, so bad.

  I gripped his shoulders, digging my nails in. “I’m there, I’m there—”

  “God, it’s like you’re sucking me dry.” He groaned out a curse as his hips pumped one last time.

  We stayed like that for a few seconds, both out of breath.

  “I’ve never done that before,” I said shyly, unable to look at him.

  Finn tilted my chin up, his blue eyes flashed. “Good. I want to be your first, your only…”

  I didn’t have a chance to respond as he kissed me, pulling my skirt back into place at the same time.

  I could feel him on my thighs, I could still feel him inside me.

  Finn grabbed a box of tissues and cleaned himself off, adjusted his pants, and then sauntered over to where I was still standing—or shaking. He grabbed a tissue, got down on his hands and knees, and swiped it up both my legs.

  It was oddly one of the hottest things I’d ever seen.

  Finn’s sexiness wasn’t just in how he looked. It was how he treated people, how he treated me.

  Like an equal.

  And with respect even after he got what he wanted.

  “Th-thanks,” I said, voice hoarse.

  He went over and grabbed my black thong off the floor and then shoved it into his pocket. “Yeah, I’m keeping this.”

  I gasped. “Finn!”

  “What? It’s a souvenir.”

  “We aren’t at Disneyland!” I hissed.

  “Kinda felt like it though, right? I mean, we went on a really fucking nice ride.” His grin was huge.

  I wanted to slap him and kiss him at the same time.

  “Phone.” He held out his hand.

  I’d forgotten where I put it and had to search for a bit until I noticed it was on the desk he’d just had me
on. Fantastic.

  I handed it over while he handed me his.

  “So…” He sat down on the couch like we didn’t just screw against his desk like he didn’t have my thong in his pocket, and like there wasn’t a giant elephant grazing in the corner. “What are you looking for in a guy?”

  “Really?” I said sarcastically. “You realize how insulting that sounds after what just—”

  “Don’t get your panties in a twist.” He smirked up at me. “Oh, wait, you can’t because I have them.”

  “Are you ten?”

  He winced. “By all means, make it weirder.”

  “Sorry,” I mumbled. “Okay fine, I’m looking for someone who understands me, who will put me first, someone good looking—”

  “Obviously.”

  “Hey! Sometimes people don’t like to date pretty people. It can be intimidating.”

  “Am I pretty?” He batted his eyelashes at me.

  I rolled my eyes. “You know you’re pretty. That’s the problem with pretty people. They tend to wield their good looks around like a battering ram, or a sword, and then don’t understand what the big deal is when they leave the person they’re dating in utter wreckage and chaos.”

  Finn stared me down. “Who hurt you?”

  “No one,” I said it too fast, and obviously it had already been decided how horrible I was at lying.

  “Jillian.” He stood; his eyes thunderous like he was plotting someone’s murder. “Who the hell would dump you? Who did it? I want a name.”

  “Want his social security number too?” I joked.

  “Do you have it?” He wasn’t kidding.

  I burst out laughing. “It was a while ago, okay? Two years to be exact. And he was one of the pretty ones, and yes, he broke my heart, but after a lot of ice cream and therapy of the Mr. Darcy kind—I realized that he never really had my heart to begin with. I never let him have it. So maybe I shared a bit of the responsibility. Then again, you can’t really break something you never hold. Right?”

  “Doesn’t make it hurt any less, Jillian,” he said softly, and then. “Date me.”

  “I’m sorry, what?” It hurt to swallow. I wanted to say yes so bad. I wanted to keep doing whatever this was—and I wanted it with him.

  “We’ll keep testing the app.” He stood. “But I know you feel this. Date me, let’s see where this goes… I’m serious.”