Sex like we’d experienced required recharging, so we’d enjoyed a little nap. Sleeping next to Finn gave me another surprise. Cuddled next to his big warm body felt natural and safe. I woke up first and had to use the bathroom, so I gathered up my clothes and quietly dressed. In the process, I found the bag of cookies, and when I checked inside, to my shock they were still intact. I set them on the desk and slipped from his room.
The house was blessedly quiet, and I wondered if his roommates had gone out or something while we’d spent the afternoon studying each other rather than physics. A giggle escaped me as I reassessed that thought. Studying with Finn gave physics a whole different aspect.
When I returned to his room, I discovered him seated at the desk in his boxers and jeans happily chowing down on a cookie. A whole cookie.
“Hey!” I lunged for the bag.
He grinned around a mouthful of sugary yumminess and snatched the bag from my reach. Swallowing, he smirked and said, “You weren’t planning to keep these to yourself, were you, thief?”
“They were tangled up in the blankets and my sweatshirt. You’re lucky I even found them.” I held out my hand. “Give over.” A thought struck me, and I gasped. “Unless you ate them both already. I was only gone for a minute!”
He nibbled a bite from the mostly intact one in his hand. “Pickle Barrel makes the best monsters.” His eyes flashed with mischief. “They’re my absolute favorite.” Smirking, he nibbled another bite. “If you want some of this, it’s going to cost you.”
Planting my hands on my hips, I said, “What is it going to cost me?”
“A kiss.” Pondering for a moment, he added, “Maybe two.”
“Finn.” I stretched his name into three syllables.
“Chess.” He mimicked me, the expression in his eyes positively wicked.
Stepping into his space, I leaned down and aimed for his cheek, but at the last second, he turned his head and my lips landed on the corner of his mouth. The next thing I knew, I was seated across his lap, his skin warm beneath my hands where they landed one across his massive shoulders, the other on his impressive chest.
“Here you go.” He offered me a bite of the cookie in his hand.
I chomped a big bite and had to use my thumb to catch the crumbs threatening to tumble out of the corner of my mouth. He laughed and bit into the soft and crunchy treat. When I swallowed and grabbed his wrist with the intention of taking another bite, he tightened his arm, denying me my goal.
“Nuh-uh-uh. You know the price.”
“You’re something, you know that?” I meant to call him out, but my words lacked heat.
“As much as I love these cookies, I’ve had a taste of you, Miss Clarke, and you’re my new favorite treat.” His gaze strayed to my mouth. “I have a feeling I’m never going to get enough of you.”
His words shot straight to my center.
Trying to cover my response to him, I straightened my back and said, “I can’t believe how demanding you are.”
If anything, his focus on my mouth intensified, drawing me to him. This time I brushed my lips over his and nibbled at the corner before pulling away.
“Bite.”
“I always say, ‘give the lady what she wants.’” He tugged my lower lip between his teeth before soothing the sting with his tongue.
I intended to call him out for mistaking my meaning on purpose, but when he pressed his lips to mine, I forgot. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I kissed him back, slow and easy, lips on lips, tiny nibbles.
“Mmm,” I moaned.
“Better than cookies,” he said against my mouth.
That word reminded me and I pulled back. “I still want my cookie.”
Laughing, he reached behind him on the desk and handed me the bag. Greedily, I tore open the top to find the last cookie. I sunk my teeth into the treat and savored butterscotch, chocolate, brown sugar, and walnuts. A second bite added raisins, and I pulled a face.
“Let me guess. You found a raisin,” he chuckled.
“These”—I turned my cookie from side to side, inspecting it—“would be perfect if not for the occasional raisin ambush.” Seeing another of the offensive fruits sticking out from where I’d taken my previous bite, I tugged it free and dropped it on the desktop.
“What did raisins ever do to you?” He smirked.
