For the second day in a row, Finn awoke to the smell of coffee.
Her sleepy brain caught up slowly.
Coffee meant electricity. Electricity meant heat. Heat meant she didn’t need to cling to Tom like a limpet in order to survive the harsh terrain of her apartment. Back to separate couches and separate beds.
The thought was surprisingly disappointing.
She struggled to sit up amid the nest they’d made and pulled off the outer layers of her cold-weather gear, immediately feeling less like the kid brother inA Christmas Story. The tip of her nose was no longer numb, and her phone case was no longer cold to the touch.
She was about to force herself out of bed when Tom entered, carrying two mugs.
“Good morning. I bring caffeine.”
He too had shed a few of his layers, giving her a pleasing eyeful of his strong, lean body under Richard’s almost-the-right-size clothes. He handed her a mug, and she slurped down half the hot beverage with one long swallow.
“This is the best coffee I’ve ever had. I could kiss you.”
It took a moment for her brain, still a wee bit sluggish, to process what she’d said.
Not Tom though. Without a word, he took the half-empty coffee cup from her and placed it next to his on the bedside table. Then he turned back to her and put both hands on her jaw, running his thumbs lightly over the crest of her cheekbones.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” she whispered as her heartbeat kicked into overdrive.
“Okay,” he repeated. “You should kiss me.”
So she did. She stopped thinking ahead, stopped trying to plan, stopped worrying about thewhat ifsand themaybe nots. She leaned forward and pressed her lips against his, gently at first and then with more force. He slid a hand into her sleep-tangled hair, and she opened her mouth to his, tasting the coffee on his tongue and wanting more.
She grabbed the front of his T-shirt and pulled him forward. He complied, leaning to settle one knee on the bed next to her. His lips sliding over hers left sparks in their wake, and how had she ever thought that this man would ever betray her trust? She pulled back to look at him, and his amber eyes glowed with need, delight, vulnerability.
“More,” she demanded, and now he was lying next to her, wrapping his arm around her waist to pull her toward him, never breaking their kiss. Then she was the one touching his hair, marveling at the soft curls. Kissing Tom feltright, like a homecoming she hadn’t known she was missing. But it still wasn’t enough.
“More,” she panted, and he shifted his body on top of hers, settling his thigh between her legs. She felt him hard against her hip, and she rocked against him, breathing a shaky sigh into his mouth as she started to move in a rhythm that caused her to see stars and him to tighten his grip.
“More.” Tom was the one rasping the command now, and she complied, twining her leg around his and pressing herself harder against that long length that she wanted inside her. Her bedroom wasn’t cold any longer. She couldn’t remember a time when she’deverbeen cold in fact. Not when her whole body felt like it was on fire. Not when Tom’s hand worked its way under the layers of clothing and drifted up… up… up…
Her phone went off.
At first she tried to ignore it, but it kept ringing. The longer it rang, the slower Tom’s kissing became, and suddenly his hand was no longer exploring the sensitive skin under her breast.
“Finn. You should answer.” The words brushed across the skin behind her ear, which he was exploring with his lips.
“Don’t want to,” she grumbled, seeking his mouth again.
“Whoever it is sounds like they’re going to keep calling.”
At Tom’s words, the chiming sound clicked in her brain.
“Oh God. It’s my brother. I’m always the one who calls him, so I forgot what his ringtone sounds like.”
They both scrambled to sit up, and she grabbed her phone. “Hey, jerk.”
“Jerk?I’mthe jerk?” Jake’s voice thundered down the line, a mixture of relief and irritation. “I just read your text about letting some guy stay with you this weekend, and then you don’t pick up the first two times I call?”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh my God, I’m fine.”
Well, she wasn’t fine about being interrupted mid make out, and she was guessing Tom wasn’t either, judging by the whiteness of his knuckles where he gripped the blankets at the end of the bed.
