Finn shifted in his seat. Something low down in his stomach began to wind tightly. “Like I said—I promise,” he murmured into her ear, hoping he wasn’t scaring her. Was this too much too soon?
Sam’s hands slid up his chest, her fingers soft against the stubble on his jaw. “Show me.”
“Sam.” His voice was hoarse. “What are you doing to me?”
She ran her hands down his back and kissed the side of his neck. “What do you want me to do to you?”
“Come with me,” he murmured, kissing her again before taking her hand. “Let’s go somewhere quieter.”
20
Sam
The walk back to Finn’s hotel was a blur. Faces, stores, snow, that’s all she could remember. Someone called outgood luckand she laughed wondering how on earth they knew what she was about to do. Then she laughed again because of course they didn’t know that she was about to rip the clothes off Finn Bradley’s fine body, run her hands over every inch of him while she lost her mind. All she could think of was how he’d held her in the shower, how he’d devoured her as if he’d been starved of her all his life, and how she wanted to do the same for him.
Her heart pounded as they stood in the elevator. He held her hand, caressing the back of it with his thumb as they waited for their floor, and she could sense his frustration that they had to share the lift with another couple.
Within minutes they were in his suite. The door had barely clicked shut behind them before Sam was in his arms again, kissing him deeply while her fingers fumbled with his shirt buttons. He pulled her jacket roughly downher shoulders, breaking their kiss only long enough to fling it away. His hands were everywhere—in her hair, on her throat—rough and desperate. They ran down her sides, making her shiver and press against him. With his hands tight on her waist, he backed her carefully against the wall, steadying her against it as she gasped for air.
“God, Sam.” His breath was ragged as he tore his shirt off. Tossing it aside he groaned. His eyes were the darkest she’d ever seen—there was a hunger there that took her breath away. She gasped. This Finn—shirtless, hair tousled, his usually sunny face replaced by something fierce and serious—had no idea how undone he was making her. Sam stepped back. The crease between his eyes deepened, telling her that he wasn’t playing games. He was going to ruin her. She raised her chin and hoped that he would.
“What do you want?” his voice was low, lethal. He stepped away from her, leaving her aching for his touch.
Blinking, Sam dragged her eyes away from his low-slung gray sweatpants and the deep V of muscle at his hips, acutely aware of how her pulse thudded in places that she yearned for his touch. She blinked again and cleared her throat. Helplessly, she said, “I don’t know …”
He reached for her, sliding his hand around her shoulders to cradle the back of her neck, dragging her toward him. “You don’t have to,” he rasped, his breath hot against her ear. “I’m fine figuring out every goddamn thing that you need.”
Sam’s heart hammered in her ribs. Her eyes devoured him, the stubble on his jaw, the tension in his shoulders. He looked so strong, virile and completely unlike his normal soft, funny self. “Finn?”
“Yeah.” He pulled back just enough to see her, his hands cradling her like she was something precious.
She slid her hands up his bare chest, feeling the frantic thrum of his heartbeat in his throat. She smiled, a small but sure thing, filled with honesty.
“I don’t want you to figure it out alone,” she whispered.
He stilled, his arms tightening, flexing in the dim light.
“I want us to do it together,” she breathed. “Every last messy, scary, stupid thing. With you.”
A harsh, broken sound ripped from Finn’s throat—half laugh, half groan. Then he was kissing her again, but slower. Tender. Deep. Like he was memorizing the taste of her, binding her onto his very soul. He broke away, leaning his head on her shoulder, his bare chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. “I love you, Sam,” he whispered hoarsely against her skin.
His words made Sam shiver. Her pulse pounded in her throat.
Finn didn’t speak. He raised his head; his gaze locked on hers.
Sam’s breath hitched. “I love you too, so damn much.”
Finn closed his eyes.
Sam had barely time to process the emotion that swept across his face. One second, she was standing before him, every cell in her body screaming at her to move—to touch him. Every heartbeat ringing in her ears, every muscle in her body weakening under the moment. The next his bare chest was warm against her palms as he pressed her back against the wall. His hands, familiar and strong, ran up her arms, rested on her collarbones for a moment before tilting her face up to his.
“Say it again,” he murmured, his voice low and rough.
Sam swallowed hard. She whispered, “I love you.”
A muscle ticked in Finn’s jaw; his eyes darkened. His hands cradled her face; his thumb swept across her cheek. He laid his forehead against hers, his breath warm and minty as he whispered, “Sam, is this real?”
Before she could answer, his mouth was on hers, hot and hungry, taking her without hesitation. Sam groaned against his insistent lips. Finn deepened the kiss, as if he was reclaiming something he’d lost, something he refused to lose again. His body was solid against hers, heat radiating from his skin through her shirt, sending shivers down her spine.
