by Mari Carr
“Finn,” she said, “listen. I’m fine. Really. I was hop—”
Finn pulled her toward him, hugging her hard. “Have dinner with me tonight.”
It wasn’t a question, but it wasn’t like she was going to turn him down anyway. She’d missed him and she wanted to talk to him.
“Okay.”
He placed a sweet kiss on her forehead. “Meet me at the pub at six?”
She nodded. “Sure.”
For the first time since she’d told him about Pennywise and the gun, he smiled. “I missed you so much.”
“Ditto.”
Finn left, and Layla grabbed her purse as she left instructions for her employees and headed home.
She didn’t bother to stop moving as she entered her apartment, slowly stripping on her way to the bedroom. Her purse was dumped by the door, her jacket a few feet from that. Then she paused to kick her shoes off at the beginning of the hallway. Her shirt was tossed down just outside the bedroom, her bra falling right beside it. Her jeans were shed at the bedroom door, her panties by the bed.
She was a regular erotic Gretel, leaving a trail of clothing breadcrumbs straight to her bedroom. If only there was someone coming along behind her to follow the path.
She reached for the vibrator in her nightstand drawer, then sank down on the mattress, lying on her back to stare at the ceiling for a moment.
Closing her eyes, she pictured Finn’s face, his sweet smile, the concern in his voice earlier. It was nice and helped her relax. Then her thoughts drifted back to Finn’s joke that he would ruin her for all other men, and she let herself imagine exactly how he would do that…
* * *
“Good girl,” Finn murmured from the doorway of her bedroom.
“You told me to wait for you here,” she said, smiling softly as she added the word, “naked.”
Finn walked over to the bed, pulling his shirt over his head as he did so. She licked her lips as he and his six-pack abs knelt one knee on the mattress next to her. “Are you wet for me?” he asked.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Show me.”
Layla’s fingers slid along her slit, the moisture from her body coating them. She lifted them to show Finn.
“Suck off the juices for me, LJ. Show me exactly how you’d suck my cock.”
Her fingers shook slightly—not from fear, but from need—as she placed two of them at her mouth without putting them in. She painted her lips with her arousal, loving the groan of desire Finn gave her.
“You’re a dirty girl,” he said, drawing one fingertip over her chest, over her breast, before teasing her nipple. “Use your free hand to cup your tit.”
She did exactly as he said, loving the way he commanded her, knowing all the ways to turn her on.
“Now squeeze it. Hard.”
Layla squeezed, gasping at how good it felt to touch herself this way.
“Pinch your nipple while you suck on those fingers.”
She slipped her fingers into her mouth, the tanginess of her body’s juices coating her tongue. She sucked hard on them as she applied pressure to her nipple, her hips rising from the mattress as she sought some much-needed stimulation between her legs.
“Touch me,” she pleaded with him.
“Not yet,” he said. “You’re not ready.”
“I am,” she insisted. “God. I am!”
Finn picked up her vibrator and handed it to her. “I haven’t gotten my show yet. You’re going to fuck yourself with this, let me see how pretty you are when you come. I want to watch your pussy clench down on that toy and know that soon, it’s going to be my dick you’re squeezing like a vise.”
Layla’s breath was stilted, and it was hard to get air to her lungs. She wanted him, needed him.
She slowly slid the vibrator inside, stroking it in and out shallowly a few times as her arousal covered it, making it slide in easier, deeper on each thrust.
Once it was fully lodged, she held it there, her eyes finding his.
“Turn it on, LJ. On high.”
“I won’t be able to stop myself from coming.”
He gave her a sweet smile. “I didn’t ask you to stop. I asked you to show it to me.”
“Fuck,” she breathed as she switched the toy on high. Her back arched as the first powerful pulses rumbled through her body. “God!” she cried out, her eyes drifting closed.
She pumped the toy in and out roughly.
“That’s it,” Finn muttered, his lips next to her ear, his breath hot on her cheek. “Fuck yourself with it. Harder, Layla.”
Her eyes still closed, she moved the vibrator faster, driving it deeper as the pulsing toy stroked every sensitive hotspot inside her.
“Find your G-spot,” Finn demanded. “Stroke it with the vibrator.”
She felt his strong, large hand on hers, pressing the toy against that magical spot, working it in deeper than she’d ever dared to do on her own.
White lights flashed behind her shut eyelids as her pussy began to tingle with that first telltale sign that her orgasm was close.
“Oh my God.” Her voice was breathless, husky.
She bent her knees, her feet flat on the mattress as she lifted herself up on every downstroke of the vibrator. “Fuck. Fuck me. God. Finn!”
As her orgasm struck, Finn kissed her, soaking up the sound of her screams.
He didn’t release her until her climax began to subside.
“Open your eyes, LJ. Open your eyes and look at us.”
Us?
She opened her eyes to find Finn lying next to her, while Miguel knelt between her legs, her dripping vibrator in his hands.
* * *
Layla bolted upright, her eyes flying open as she dropped her vibrator. Her body still rumbled from her orgasm.
Holy masturbation masterpiece.
It took several minutes for her to land, for her to come to grips with her fantasy.
It had felt so real.
So fucking real.
And it was that fact that had her crashing to earth. Because it wasn’t just Finn trying to ruin her for other men. It was Miguel too.
Chapter Seven
Finn had grabbed a corner booth at the pub, settling in to wait impatiently for Layla to arrive. He’d missed her like crazy this past week, and he’d intended to initiate his plan to woo her this afternoon in her office. That plan had been effectively blown out of the water when Layla told him about the robbery.
At that point, he’d briefly lost his mind as true terror kicked in when he considered all the things that could have happened to her while he was on the other side of the country.
It was bad enough to think about a man holding a gun on her and stealing her money, but Finn’s imagination had led him down darker paths all afternoon when he considered how much worse things could have been. It didn’t help that he was back in Baltimore, fresh from a session at the conference that detailed some horrifying real-life attacks and how steps could have been taken to prevent them.
Layla could have been raped or killed.
He closed his eyes and—for the hundredth time today—tried to shut those thoughts down.
Then he glanced at the brochures he’d brought from the office to show her over dinner. He had narrowed her security system options down to three. His only criteria for the systems had been that he had to feel safe leaving her alone in the shop with them. As such, her coffee shop was about to become Fort Knox in terms of security.
He’d left the office late and hadn’t had a chance to call his dad to see if the police had any leads on the robbery, so he made a mental note to do that first thing in the morning.
Actually, he’d call Miguel to ask. He wanted to touch base with him. Neither of them had texted over the past week, and it occurred to Finn this was the longest he’d gone without talking to or seeing his best friend, and he was a little bit worried about why they’d gone radio silence.
He hadn’t texted because he knew he couldn’t keep lying to Miguel ab
out Layla and what she meant to him. The two of them had a day of reckoning coming…very soon.
But he wasn’t sure why Miguel had stopped texting, and that’s what was really bothering him.
“Hey, good-looking.”
He looked up and smiled as Layla slid into the booth next to him.
“Been waiting long?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Only been here long enough to order myself a Guinness and you a glass of wine.”
As if on cue, Padraig came over to deliver the drinks. “Hello, Layla,” his cousin said. “It’s about time you made your way back to the pub. Thought I was going to have to go out looking for you.”
Layla laughed, and she and Padraig shared a few pleasantries before he returned to the bar.
His cousin Yvonne popped over with menus. “Sorry it took me a minute to get over here. We’re short-staffed tonight.”
“No problem. LJ only just got here.”
Like Padraig, Yvonne hung out a couple of minutes, chatting. “By the way, the rest of my stuff will be out this weekend,” she said. Yvonne had been slowly moving all of her things out of the Collins Dorm and over to her boyfriend Leo’s house. “Just in time for Oliver and Gavin to move in.”
“Oliver, the baby cousin, is moving in?” Layla asked.
Yvonne laughed, as Finn said, “I guess it’s time for us to stop referring to Ollie as the baby. He’s been old enough to legally drink for a year now.”
Oliver, the youngest of Finn’s cousins, had been chomping at the bit to move into the apartment above the pub for a year now. He and his best friend/foster brother, Gavin, had been working construction with Oliver’s dad, Sean, and their uncles, Justin and Killian, since graduating from high school.
Aunt Lauren had been very resistant about the idea of “her boys” flying the coop, unable or unwilling to do the empty nest thing, and because Oliver had a heart as big as New York City, he’d appeased her until Sean was able to convince her the boys were getting too damn old to live at home.
With Yvonne moving out, the timing was perfect for Oliver and Gavin to move in, and Finn was looking forward to having a bunch of cousins living in the apartment again. With just him, Colm and Darcy left in the dorm, it had been getting kind of quiet lately.
“Well, I better get back to work. I’ll take your orders in a few minutes.” With that, Yvonne went to check on other tables.
Finn picked up the brochures he’d brought from work and handed them to Layla. “I want you to take a look at these three security systems. They’re the best.”
For a few minutes, he went over the pros and cons of the systems, answering her questions. He could tell from her countless number of questions she was still pretty shaken up from the robbery, though she was trying to put on a good face.
Finn wrapped his arm around the back of the booth once she tucked the brochures in her purse, moving closer to her. “I didn’t get a chance to call my dad to see if they’ve caught the guy.”
Layla took a sip of her wine. “You don’t have to call. I know they haven’t caught him yet. I’ve…” She paused for just a second, but long enough to catch Finn’s attention. “I’ve been in contact with the cop who answered the call the night of the robbery.”
“Oh?” Finn’s Spidey senses went on alert.
“Yeah. We, um, we’ve actually gone out a couple of times…just dinner once and a lunch.”
Finn had been prepared to lay it on the line for Layla tonight, ready to pick up the conversation they’d started in the Italian restaurant. He’d let her convince him that they couldn’t sleep together, couldn’t risk their friendship.
But he couldn’t let go of the feeling that they would be pretty perfect together. He simply wanted a chance to prove that to her. To tell her he wanted to be her wild-side guy.
Unfortunately, the jealousy that reared its ugly head when she mentioned going on a date with someone else only proved just how far gone he already was when it came to Layla.
“Did you kiss him?”
“No, but…”
Layla frowned, and he could tell he’d fucked up with his first question. He needed to dial his jealousy back a notch or twenty. She wasn’t his girlfriend, and she’d been nothing but honest with him in terms of her intentions, her desire to play the field.
“Finn,” she started.
“No? Did you want to kiss him?” he asked, aiming for lighthearted.
Her eyes narrowed, and he could tell he wasn’t fooling her.
“I don’t think—”
Finn didn’t give her a chance to call him out. Instead, he did the only thing his jealous, aroused, fucked-up head could think to do. He pulled her toward him and kissed her.
There was nothing gentle about the kiss. He took her lips like the goddamn plane was going down, like he was headed off to war, like—
“Finn?”
He and Layla pulled apart as Finn turned toward the sound of Miguel’s voice.
Only Miguel wasn’t looking at him. He was looking at…
“Layla?”
Confused, Finn glanced from Miguel to Layla. “You know LJ?” he asked.
“LJ?”
Fuck. There was no mistaking the angry tone in Miguel’s voice.
“Miguel is the cop I was telling you about,” Layla said. She looked back at Miguel and forced a smile, though it was clear she was uncomfortable. “LJ stands for Layla Jean,” she explained. “I was named after both my grandmothers.”
“I was named after a soap opera character,” Miguel said, though the words came out wooden.
“How do you guys know each other?” Layla asked.
“Miguel is,” Finn paused, “my best friend.”
“Oh. I didn’t realize you knew each other.”
Finn watched her cheeks flush and he could tell she didn’t know what else to say. How could she? Her dating experience was limited to one guy.
Miguel’s scowl darkened, his gaze drilling straight through Finn. “It’s clear I’ve interrupted something. I’ll leave you two to your…date.”
Before Finn could say anything, Miguel turned, storming toward the exit.
“I’m sorry,” Layla said quickly. “I don’t know…”
Her words faded away.
She didn’t have a clue what was going on, but she was astute enough to see just how badly that scene had gone.
“You have nothing to apologize for. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Finn didn’t have time to explain anything to her at the moment. Hell, he didn’t know how to explain it. “Can you give me a minute, LJ? I need to tell Miguel something.”
“Sure,” she said, as Finn slid out of the booth and hurried to the door. He expected Miguel would be halfway to the parking lot by now, so he was surprised to find him standing on the sidewalk just outside the pub.
“Miguel,” Finn said, drawing his friend’s attention.
Miguel spun around angrily. “What?”
Finn wasn’t sure what to say. Layla said she’d gone out with Miguel a couple times, but they hadn’t kissed. Finn tried to recall the last time his friend had even gone on a date. It had been a while.
Since before the bachelor party in June.
“Can we talk about this?” It was a weak start, but he was scrambling here.
“Are you interested in her?” Miguel asked.
Finn nodded. “Yeah. Are you?”
“What if I am?” Miguel asked. “Are you going to step aside?”
Finn hesitated, then shook his head. “I like her, Miguel. I like her a lot.”
“Why did you let me think LJ was a man?”
Miguel’s question hit him like a punch to the gut. Finn didn’t have an answer. At least not one he wanted to say aloud. In truth, there were too many reasons. He’d seen Miguel’s jealousy every time Finn mentioned going out on a date.
Plus, he was afraid if he told Miguel about his feelings for Layla, it might…fuck…it might force his friend’s hand about admitting his own.
“I guess that’s my answer.”
Finn frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Miguel pointed an angry finger at him. “Don’t. Don’t pretend you don’t know. I don’t deserve that.”
Finn’s heart raced as his chest constricted, and he was overcome with guilt. His friend was right. He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve any of this. “Miguel—” he started, but his throat closed up and his voice failed him.
“I’m done pretending this doesn’t exist, Finn.”
Finn sucked in a deep breath, searching for an answer.
Miguel never gave him the chance. “Fuck it.”
He strode right up to Finn and kissed him. Hard.
Finn stood stock-still for a hot minute…before his lips softened and he gripped Miguel’s hips, pulling his best friend closer as he kissed him back.
Finn didn’t have a clue how long they stood there, lips locked together. It could have been mere seconds or hours. Finn had kissed at least a hundred girls in his life, but this…Jesus…this was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. Miguel was gripping the back of Finn’s neck firmly, unwilling to let him pull away.
Not that Finn was trying to. Their lips were smashed together hard, their tongues touching, the taste of the Guinness Finn had just been drinking blending with Miguel’s flavor—coffee.
Miguel’s other hand wrapped around Finn, gripping his ass, pulling him forward to make certain Finn felt his erection, ensuring Miguel felt his.
Finn was hard. Rock-hard.
When they pulled apart, they were both panting, gasping, staring at each other.
A soft intake of breath drew their attention to the door of the pub, where Layla stood.
“LJ,” Finn whispered.
Jesus Christ. He’d fucked up everything tonight.
Layla took a step closer, then another. “That was…the single hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”
Miguel chuckled, though there wasn’t much humor in the sound. “I’m so sorry, Layla. I really screwed up tonight. I should go home—”
“Wait!” Layla reached out, placing her hand on Miguel’s arm to stop him from running again. “You’re not screwing anything up. I just didn’t realize the two of you—”
