The Setup

by Rachel Van Dyken

  “It’s bad when you make math sound sexy, isn’t it?”

  “Or very good?” I cupped her face and pressed my mouth to hers. She tasted like sugar and soy and everything good in life. Her skin was so soft it was unreal, her lips plump and parted. I slid my tongue in as my entire body went rigid with want.

  I leaned her back against the couch as she wrapped a leg around me, pulling me down on top of her, gripping my simple hoodie with one hand and smiling against my mouth.

  Kissing her wasn’t just hot—it was insanely easy.

  As if this is what we did every Monday night.

  And I never wanted to stop.

  Forget having a job.

  This would be my new job.

  Kissing her.

  Touching her.

  Feeding her.

  I ran a hand down her skin to her hip and squeezed her ass. “Tell me you’re not wearing SPANX.”

  “I’m not wearing SPANX.”

  “Good.” I kissed her harder.

  We were a combination of lust, messy need, and confusion, and I found I didn’t want to sit there and solve the puzzle we presented. I just wanted to kiss her harder. I wanted to know every moan, every taste, I wanted to take every mystery her body had and solve it over and over again until I knew exactly what made her say my name with reverence and possession.

  I sighed down her neck, pressing heated kisses there as she jerked underneath me like she was clamoring for more.

  Our bodies moved in sync; the friction our clothes presented was met with more squirming beneath me, which only made my semi into a flow blown ready to perform soldier.

  Damn it, I felt like I’d been at sea for years.

  And now?

  Finally home.

  She bit down on my lower lip, in a frenzy, I jerked down her sweats and cupped her sex.

  She bucked against my hand.

  “That’s it,” I encouraged as I settled into what I knew I excelled at. I just wanted her to feel good, to feel beautiful.

  And I wanted to be the one to do it.

  The only one.

  She whimpered when I switched up fingers when I moved my palm and then kissed her mouth harder, my tongue licking up every inch of her, every taste she gave me.

  “That’s…” She heaved; her eyes rolled back. “That’s… I’m sorry I can hardly talk right now.”

  I grinned against her mouth. “The fact that you can talk at all is insulting.”

  She gasped.

  And then she let out a light scream.

  I gripped her hips with my left hand and jerked off her sweats with one swipe of my right, underwear and all.

  Bared to me like a feast, I lowered my head and had my dessert.

  “Finn, I don’t know if—”

  I pressed my fingers against her thighs, spreading her wider, licking, and sucking.

  “Never mind.” She fell back against the pillows, and I made it my damn job to lick away her troubles, make her boneless.

  Within seconds, she was coming apart all over me.

  And I was drinking it in like I’d been living in the desert my whole damn life.

  I spread kisses down her thighs to her knees and then looked up.

  Her chest was heaving, her eyes wide with worry.

  Shit. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m naked.”

  “Thank God for that, and you do still have a shirt on, want me to take that off too?”

  “No, yes, no, I mean…” She scrambled away from me and grabbed her sweats and put them on so fast she nearly tripped over them. “This—we can’t, we’re partners! I mean, we’re working together, and that was, it was amazing, but—that’s—we can’t—”

  I stood. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

  “You know I did.”

  “Are we at the office?”

  “No,” she admitted with a guilty look. “But they have rules. Ian and Lex have rules, and we just broke like ten!”

  “Two tops.” I rolled my eyes.

  “Finn!” She looked panicked. “I’m not saying I don’t like you or this, I mean, I’m not stupid, the fact that you would even look in my direction—”

  “Don’t fucking belittle yourself like that ever again,” I snapped.

  She gulped and then looked down at her feet. “I want this promotion, Finn.”

  I felt like I’d just been slapped. “What are you saying?”

  She couldn’t even look at me! “I’m saying until this whole app business is launched, this isn’t a good idea.”

  “No, you’re not.” I was furious, hurt, ready to bang my head against a sharp surface. “You’re saying your job is more important.”

  “Finn! We barely know each other.”

  “Exactly, because if you knew me at all, you’d know I would never jeopardize your job. I’d quit before I did that.” And I meant it.

  “Don’t be ridiculous! You can’t quit!”

  “Would it make a difference? If I did?”

  “Finn! Be serious! They need you; I need you. The only way this is going to work is if we do our jobs and make sure we launch on time, and we can’t do that without you right now!”

  “Right.” I snorted out a humorless laugh. “What was I thinking?”

  “Finn—”

  “I gotta go.” I grabbed my keys and phone and left so fast that I don’t even remember starting my car or getting back to my own lonely penthouse apartment.

  The feeling in my gut was worse.

  But this time, I knew what that feeling was.

  Disappointment.

  With a side of heartache.

  Because something had finally clicked in my soul, all because of her, and she’d stared at me and said thanks, but no thanks.

  All over a fucking job.

  Well done, Finn. Well, done.

  Chapter Twelve

  Jillian

  Finn was on the warpath all week. Cranky. Not his usual cheerful self, and I hated to think I had anything to do with it.

  Who was I kidding?

  It was my fault.

  But I’d panicked.

  Completely panicked.

  The way he made me feel was out of this world, and not just because he was insanely talented in areas that God should never bless a man with when he looked that good in a suit, but because I’d felt something for the first time in my life.

  A real connection.

  The spark of possibility.

  And hope that maybe there was someone out there for me, and his name was Finn Titus.

  And then I thought about getting fired. The great Finn Titus was loaded—he could survive anything and everything.

  This job meant the world to me.

  I still had student loans.

  My dad had been laid off last year, and I wanted to help out.

  And on top of that, I was the only one who would and could lose in that scenario. I mean, my last boyfriend dumped me right after sex.

  Right. After.

  It hadn’t been our first time, but he’d left saying he’d had better and that he’d found someone else but just wanted to make sure.

  Ass!

  Maybe it wasn’t totally fair to Finn, but he had to see it my way! Instead, he left like a spoiled child who didn’t get his way or even ask why I was so worried!

  He’d grunted in my direction when I’d said where to meet for our dates, and I was seriously worried when he didn’t even text me when I was late.

  I showed up at Blue Toro on the Pier and saw that he was already chatting excitedly with a girl who had gorgeous red hair and a brilliant smile.

  With a groan, I stomped into the restaurant and cleared my throat behind Finn.

  He turned and gave me a funny look. “Hey, you’re late.”

  “I texted.”

  “Oh.” He looked down at the phone IN HIS HAND and shrugged. “Sorry.”

  “This your date?” I said through clenched teeth at the gorgeous supermodel standing in front of the mere morta
l.

  The girl burst out laughing and waved her left hand in my face. “Sorry, already taken. He’s just taking care of the bill, and I saw an old friend.”

  She looked vaguely familiar.

  And then a guy that graced the cover of way too many ESPN magazines in the last eight years approached.

  “Wes Michels.” I gulped. Quarterback for the Hawks and quite possibly one of the most gorgeous men alive, though Finn looked like he could be a brother.

  Stupid good-looking humans.

  Why, God, why?

  “Hey.” Wes held out his hand. “I’m Wes, and you?”

  “Jillian.” Luckily, I was used to good-looking men with charming smiles. “I’m with this one.” I pointed at Finn. “We’re testing out the Wingmen App.”

  “Ahhhh.” Wes nodded. “Ian and Lex still plotting world domination?”

  Finn laughed. “You know it.”

  “They started school my senior year, and I’ll never get over how the girls threw themselves at them, I played with Ian before his injury,” Wes explained. “Before all the crazy shit, he was really talented.”

  I softened. “I’m sure he was.”

  “Anyway.” He wrapped an arm around his wife. “Date night’s over, time to go home to the kids.”

  Kids? A pang of jealousy hit me in the chest.

  “How old are they now?” Finn asked.

  “Two,” his wife answered. “It’s been nice with the first few home games, but he goes to Indianapolis next week.” She pouted a cute pout that had me ready to hug her.

  “Hey, it’ll be fine.” He kissed the top of her forehead. “We’ll see you guys later, have fun testing out Wingmen.”

  “Later.” Finn fist bumped him and turned his attention to his phone. “Looks like both dates are headed in right now.”

  “Are you going to look at me?” I whispered.

  “Not if I can help it, no,” he said coolly.

  “Mature.” I snorted.

  He locked eyes with me. “I’m sorry if I can’t just tamp down the rejection like a soulless monster.”

  I gasped in outrage. “I’m not a soulless monster!”

  He just shrugged.

  “You’re an entitled asshole, Titus.”

  He barked out a laugh and lowered his voice. “Such an entitled asshole, I gave you two orgasms with my mouth. You’re so right, how selfish of me.”

  Before I could argue, two lost looking individuals walked toward us.

  I immediately wanted to block Finn’s view of the girl.

  She looked our age, was makeup-free, had a wide happy smile, and the longest lashes I’d ever seen. Her hair was blonde, cropped to her shoulders, and she was wearing a cute little denim dress that I wished my body would look good in.

  Add in her little cowboy boots, and I was beyond irritated. “You must be Finn?”

  “In the flesh.” He shook her hand, she held it and then smiled wider.

  My guy cleared his throat. “And you’re Jillian?”

  This time I went for more hot-nerd. This guy had dark hair slicked back and was wearing a tight shirt and ripped jeans, he had a few tattoos on his right arm which surprised me, but he was wearing what looked like blue light glasses even though we were clearly at a bar and while he was really good-looking, he was nothing compared to Finn.

  He was also a computer analyst.

  “Shall we?” Finn led us all to our usual spot by the bar. We sat at one of the high tables, and the waiter stopped by to get our drink order.

  Alcohol, that’s just what I needed. I ordered a white wine.

  Finn did the same.

  Our cowgirl, however, ordered a shot of tequila.

  And nerd boy ordered scotch on the rocks.

  Interesting. I made a mental note.

  “So…” Finn started his usual spiel about Wingmen. “What do you guys think of the app so far? Has it met your expectations?”

  “Well, speaking for myself.” I quickly peeked at Finn’s phone. Her name was Sarah, what an innocent nice name. Ughhhhh. “I really like that I’m able to kind of build what I think my perfect match is, I haven’t used the auto-build, but the algorithm has been super helpful so far, I’m getting closer and closer to what my ideal match is, maybe even found it.” She eyed Finn over her shot and then threw it back and slammed the glass down on the table.

  Whoa.

  Finn grinned back at her. “Who knows? Maybe you have.”

  I kicked him in the shin under the table.

  He flinched and then slowly turned his glare in my direction while I leaned in toward John.

  “And what about you, John? What have you been enjoying?”

  He shrugged. “I’m using it as a way to study the AI behind dating apps. It was part of my doctorate, and the best way to study something is to participate, right? After I was done, I realized the app was doing a better job picking out women than I could possibly dream of. Besides, I haven’t seen one dog in there.”

  I choked on my wine. “Dog?”

  “Dude the app’s for humans,” Finn pointed out.

  John sipped his scotch. “I meant ugly girl.”

  “Good thing it isn’t just about looks,” Finn said through clenched teeth.

  John laughed. “You just keep telling yourself that. I mean, I don’t mind charity cases, but this brain and body can’t be wasted on just anyone.”

  Silly me, I see computer analyst and think nerd.

  The guy was a douche!

  “Not to come to his defense, but you really should shop in your own garage, you know?” Sarah piped up. “If you’re an eight with a three? Well, what does that say about your standards.”

  “I’ll drink to that,” John said, lifting his nearly empty glass in the air.

  I almost groaned into my wine.

  “Besides…” Sarah grinned at Finn. He simultaneously jumped a foot, and I noticed her boot touch his calf. Bitch! “I want to have beautiful children… blond. Children.”

  “Kids are… great.” Finn said in a fake voice that had me pinching his side.

  I looked away like I hadn’t maimed him and forced a smile toward John. “So, what about you? Are kids in your future?”

  “My kid is my job. I might get a dog or something, but I can’t be bothered with kids when I’m doing so well in my career, you know?”

  “Oh, she knows,” Finn jumped in. “She’s very career-oriented. Weren’t you just saying that earlier this week? At your house? And looking for a pet to spoil? I’d say the app matched you guys perfectly!”

  I was going to murder him.

  “Really?” John leaned in, excitement written all over his face. “I have to be honest; I almost didn’t accept because your picture wasn’t that great, but in person, you’re really hot, and the fact that we want the same things, well, that’s awesome.”

  “So. Awesome,” I said in clipped tones.

  “More drinks!” He seemed thrilled.

  I, however, was not.

  At that precise moment, Sarah made a snapping motion with her teeth toward Finn, so I decided to suffer in silence, especially if I got to watch his fearful gaze every time she tried to come on to him.

  It was the longest two hours of my life.

  Both our dates were drunk off their asses when we sent them home in Ubers that we paid for because they moved to shots while both of us drank water and kept making excuses about needing to get up early, on a Saturday morning, for work.

  “I’ll settle the bill.” Finn finally said once the ticket came, dropping his black Wingmen card onto the table.

  “Fine, whatever, I’m going to the bathroom, I was afraid to leave you by yourself.”

  “Because I’d leave with her?” he snapped.

  “No, you selfish idiot, because half her touches were bad touch, and I was afraid she was going to grab you by the dick and squeeze too hard. Then again, that probably would have been difficult, considering its size and all.”

  I stomped off.
<
br />   And was nearly to the bathroom when someone tugged my hand.

  It was Finn.

  He jerked me against his chest, then slammed me up against the wall between the bathrooms, our hands linked, and then his mouth was on mine.

  And I was lost to the sensation of his mouth as he deepened the kiss, as his rock-hard body held me captive against the wooden wall, his erection strained against his pants, I could feel every hard inch, every part of him that said he was too big for any sane person to handle, but he’d like to see them try.

  I squirmed against him as he bit down on my lip and pulled back, eyes wild. “Don’t threaten me, not now, not after the shit night we’ve both had, not after having to sit next to you, pretend interest while I smell your perfume, and still taste you on my tongue. And don’t you dare call me fucking selfish when we both know the truth.”

  “Oh yeah?” I huffed. “What’s that?”

  “Your job’s more important than anything, and you’re terrified.”

  “Of you?”

  “Of everything.” He sneered.

  I shoved him away. “I’ll send you my notes tomorrow.”

  “No, you’ll bring them into my office tomorrow morning, and we’ll discuss the dates like professionals.”

  “On a Saturday?”

  “Technically, I’m your boss, so yes, Saturday.”

  “You jackass!” I gasped, tears in my eyes. “How dare you pull rank!”

  Guilt flashed across his face before he turned on his heel and left. He didn’t see the tears he caused when I drove home. He didn’t see the tears staining my pillowcase when I thought about his hurtful words or the way I wanted his kiss more than my next breath of air.

  He didn’t see the power he already held.

  Or how badly I wanted to forget my job and responsibilities, but not all of us had a trust fund.

  So, I drove to work the next day with rage in my soul.

  And stomped into his office wearing armor over my heart.

  Armor that immediately slipped from me when I noticed he’d slept there all night instead of his apartment. He was in the same clothes, his hands tucked under his chin, papers everywhere, documents, app studies.

  “Did you work all night?” I asked gently.

  He turned to glare at me, his eyes were bloodshot. “Maybe.”

  “Why?”

  “Because going home sounded about as fun as going to the dentist, and I had stuff to do…”