Sweet Little Lies Read online

  And who’d they’d taken with them . . .

  “I’m sorry you don’t have those memories,” she said quietly.

  “Don’t be. Because I don’t know what I’m missing.” He met her gaze. “You had it worse. Your life was a complete one-eighty from mine. You know exactly what you’re missing.”

  And there went the stab to her gut again. “Finn—”

  “It’s not your fault, Pru. Any of it. Forget it.”

  As if she could.

  He tightened his grip on her. “No more going into your grandfather’s room alone. You take an orderly with you, or anyone. Me,” he said. “I’ll go with you. Or whoever you want, but I don’t want you in there with him alone again.”

  “He’s not always that bad—”

  “Promise me,” he said, cupping her face, taking care with her cheek. “There’s only honesty between us, right? We have no reason for anything but. So look me in the eyes and promise me, Pru.”

  She inhaled deeply, feeling like the biggest fraud on the planet. “I promise,” she whispered, hating herself a little bit. “Finn?”

  “Yeah?”

  Eyes on his, she leaned in close. “Do you remember when you kissed away my hurts?”

  “After the first softball game,” he said and smiled. “Yeah, I remember. It was a highlight for me.” His eyes went smoldering. “Want me to do it again?”

  “No, it’s your turn,” she said. “I’m going to kiss away your hurts.”

  He stilled. “You are?”

  “Yes.” Please want me to, please need me to . . .

  A rough sound escaped him then, regret and empathy, making her realize she’d spoken out loud. Closing her eyes, she tried to turn away but his arms tightened around her, his voice low and rough. “I do,” he said fiercely. “I’m going to show you just how much I need you. All night long, in fact.”

  She stared into his eyes, letting the strength in the words, in his body, in his gaze convince her he meant every single word. “The whole night,” she repeated, needing the clarification.

  “For as long as you need.”

  Since that was too much to think about, she had to set it aside in her head. Instead she slid her fingers into his hair as his hands caught her, rocking her against her very favorite body part of his. She oscillated her hips, thrilling to the way he groaned at the contact.

  No slouch, Finn stroked up her arms, encouraging the spaghetti straps of her sundress to slip from her shoulders. The bodice was stretchy and lightweight and still damp from the rain, which meant it took very little effort for him to tug it to her waist so that her breasts spilled out.

  A rough, very male sound of appreciation rumbled up from deep in his throat and his hands went under her dress to cup her ass, pulling her in tighter to him, putting his mouth right at tease-her-nipples level.

  He captured one in his mouth and her brain ceased working. Just completely stopped. Probably for the best since she was about to do things with him that she’d told herself she wouldn’t do again. “Finn—”

  Finn groaned again, a near growl. “Love the sound of my name on your lips,” he said and sucked hard, his hands pushing her dress up her thighs as he did.

  “Oh no,” she said, and right then, with his teeth gently biting down on her nipple and his hands up her dress, he froze.

  “No?” he repeated.

  “No, as in I’m not going to be the first one naked this time,” she clarified. “Why am I always the first one naked?”

  “Because you look amazing naked. Here, let me show you—”

  “Now just hold on,” she said with a low laugh, feeling dizzy with lust. “Good God, you’re potent.” She shoved his shirt up his chest and hummed in thrilled delight at the sight of his exposed torso. “Off,” she demanded.

  He took a hand off her thigh, fisted it in his shirt between his shoulder blades and yanked it over his head, never taking his eyes from hers, immediately going back to the business of driving her right out of her ever-loving mind.

  Her hands slid down his bare chest over his abs, which were rigid and taut enough that even though he was sitting, there was no fat ripple. If she didn’t want him so badly, she’d hate him for it. She popped open his button-fly jeans and a most impressive erection sprang free into her hands.

  He was commando.

  “Laundry day,” he said.

  She stared at him and then laughed. She had him full and hard in her hands, and she was hot and achy and already wet for him, and she was laughing.

  “It’s not nice to laugh at a naked man,” he said, smiling at her, not insulted in the least, the cocky bastard, and it only made her laugh harder.

  “I’m sorry,” she managed on a snort.

  Straightening up, causing those delicious ab muscles to crunch, he nipped her jaw. “You don’t look sorry.”

  She stroked his hard length and her body practically vibrated for him. “I’ll work on that,” she managed as he pushed up the hem of her sundress.

  Her amusement backed up in her throat.

  Air brushed over her upper thighs now. Her panties were tiny, enough that when Finn reached his hands around to her ass, there was bare cheek groping.

  “Mmm,” rumbled approvingly from his throat. His fingers dug in a little, cupping, squeezing, and then slipped beneath the lace, making her quiver.

  “Hold this,” he said.

  She automatically took hold of her own dress at her waist. She felt hot. Achy. Desperate. She was already straddling him but his big hands adjusted her legs so that the two of them fit together like two pieces of a puzzle.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Like that.” And then he scraped aside her little scrap of panties and stilled as he got a good look at what he’d exposed.

  And that’s when she remembered the Brazilian. “It’s Elle’s fault,” she blurted out.

  “Oh Christ, Pru.” He stroked a reverent finger across her exposed flesh.

  Her exposed, bare flesh. “She took me and Willa to the spa and—”

  The pad of Finn’s finger came away wet and he groaned.

  “—the next thing I knew . . .” she trailed off when, holding her gaze, he sucked his finger into his mouth. “So . . . you like?” she whispered.

  “Love.” His hands went to her hips and he lifted her up to the table, plopping her on the wood surface. Then, calm as you please, he scooted his chair in close, draped her legs over his shoulders, lowered his head and . . .

  Oh. Oh. Her last coherent thought was that maybe Elle had been onto something . . .

  “Missed the taste of you,” Finn murmured a few minutes later, when he’d rendered her boneless. And not very many minutes either. He shifted back, and afraid he was going away, she made a small whisper of protest and clutched at him.

  Flashing her a smile, he reached behind him, pulling his wallet from his back pocket.

  “It’s a little late to exchange business cards, isn’t it?” she asked, trying to make light of their compromising situation because as was already established, her mouth never knew when to stay zipped.

  He pulled out a condom.

  “Right,” she said. Damn, she should have thought of that. Problem was, at the moment, with her dress basically a belt around her waist, exposing all her goodies, she was incapable of thought.

  “You take my breath,” he said, eyes on her as he tore the packet open with his teeth and then rolled the condom down his length.

  She’d never seen anything so sexy in her entire life.

  With what looked like effortless strength, he scooped her from the table and lowered her over the top of him, in total control of how fast she sank onto him—which was to say not fast at all. Seemed Finn liked the slow, drive-her-insane grind, and she let out a sound of impatience that made him flash her another smile.

  “You think this is funny?” she managed.

  “You panting my name, whimpering for more, and trembling for me?” He brushed his stubbled jaw very gently across her nipple