His attraction to Mia had nothing to do with what she did or didn't do. And he wasn't comparing her to other women. In fact, when he looked at her, no other women existed.
The attraction he'd felt from the moment he'd opened his door to her had quickly turned into fascination. He was afraid fascination was morphing into need.
He didn't want to need her. He wanted her. A lot. But he wasn't interested in forging emotional connections with a woman, not even Mia. Not anymore. Not since Gemma.
But all he could think about was Mia.
This was not good.
Chapter 13
Their waitress slid a black plastic folder on the table, then turned to take another order. Finn checked the total, pulled out his wallet and set some bills inside the folder. Then he closed it, called Pete and began to slide out of the booth.
"Hold it." Mia grabbed his arm, then let go immediately. Head down, she fumbled in her bag, finally pulling out a paper sack. She handed it to him, and his fingers slid against hers when he took it. She stilled for a moment, swallowed, then cleared her throat.
"Put that on before we leave."
He quirked an eyebrow at her. "You want me to wear a bag? Isn't that a little extreme, even for you?"
Mia rolled her eyes, but a grin tugged at her mouth. "In the bag, funny man."
He opened the bag cautiously. Frowned as he peered inside it. "Why are you giving me a dead raccoon?"
"It's a beard, doofus." It looked as if she barely resisted rolling her eyes again. "A disguise. Since your dad pants didn't seem to work yesterday."
At the mention of his previous disguise, he forgot every reason to keep his distance from Mia. "Those pants worked damn well yesterday." He'd dreamt about her hands, sliding beneath the waistband. Cupping his ass. Squeezing it. Yeah. Every muscle in his body remembered that. "I have very…fond memories of those pants."
Color swept over her face. "Yeah, well, we're trying the beard tonight."
He leaned toward her across the table. "Your hands going to end up tangled in the beard, too? Because that would be fine. As long as your mouth is there with it."
"Shut it," she hissed, just as their waitress picked up the black folder.
Finn smiled up at the harried-looking woman. "Thanks, we're good," he said.
"Thank you," she said with an automatic upturn of her lips. Then she cocked her head and really looked at him.
He immediately turned away. Toward Mia. Damn it.
"Don't smile at people," Mia ordered as soon as she'd left. "Your smile is as famous as Paul Newman's blue eyes. I don't want that woman swooning. It'll draw attention."
"You're right." He tried to force a serious expression onto his face. "Don't want her to swoon." He picked up Mia's hand, kissed her palm. "There's only one woman I want swooning over me." He smiled. "And it's not our waitress."
"Put on the damn beard," she said. "There's double-sided tape in the bag." She slid to the edge of the bench and stood up, but he saw her hand trembling as she smoothed her jacket over the gun.
The beard was too thick. Too long. He'd bet money it made him look like someone from that duck-calling-family reality show.
And it itched against his skin.
"Where'd you get this thing?" he muttered as he adjusted his baseball cap and stood up.
"Tell you later."
They walked side by side through the restaurant, and he was surprised no one in Oscar's gave him a second look. When they reached the front door, he watched Mia step outside and scan the street. Looking for her brothers? His stalker?
He suspected they would all get the same treatment from her tonight.
Pete rolled to a stop beside the cars parked at the curb, and Mia hurried to open the door for Finn. As soon as he was in the car, she slid in after him, pulled the door shut, and the car began moving.
"Nice look for you, buddy," Pete said, grinning into the mirror.
"Shut up, Pete." As Pete raised the partition, Finn peeled the beard off and handed it back to Mia. "I'm guessing we're going to use that again."
"You guessed right," she said, shoving it back into the paper sack.
"I'd rather use my disguise," he said.
Mia froze for a long moment, her fingers closing around the bag. The sudden crinkle of paper was loud in the quiet car. Then she shoved the paper sack into her bag.
As Pete turned a corner, Finn moved a little closer to Mia. Thank God for slippery leather seats. Their thighs weren't touching, but Finn had high hopes for the next corner. Trying to distract her, he asked, "That beard is hideous. I figured people would be laughing and pointing at me. But no one gave me a second look when we walked out of the restaurant."
"People around here are used to seeing beards. We're close to a hipster neighborhood."
"You're pretty damn clever," he said. She was so smart it was kind of scary.
"It worked, didn't it?" she smirked at him. "No one recognized you."
"Except your brother," he pointed out.
Damn it. He wanted to snatch the words out of the air between them. Why did he have to remind her? He'd rather keep her thinking about their kiss at the park yesterday.
Because it was sure as hell the only thing he could think about.
She relaxed farther into the seat. Apparently, now that her brothers were safely behind them, she could let it go. "He's a detective. He's trained to notice things. People." She snorted. "He's probably running you through the databases right now. And Mac's going through the federal ones."
He frowned. "They're not going to find anything, but isn't that illegal?"
"It's a gray area. Cops can come up with all kinds of bullshit reasons for running someone's name." She sighed. "I'm sure my brothers have run every guy I've dated through the databases." Her eyes twinkled. "The ones they knew about, anyway."
He edged closer, forgetting about her brothers. "Tell me about the boyfriends you hid from your family."
"Not a chance." She leaned into the corner of the seat, a smile flirting with her mouth. "I don't kiss and tell."
"Good to know." The warm leather and another corner moved him close enough to feel the heat from her body. "I don't, either. If we…recreate that moment behind the bandshell, no one will ever know."
"I'd know," she said, her smile disappearing.
"I hope so." Another turn pressed him into Mia, joining their legs together from hip to knee. "If you didn't, I'd be completely distraught. Would need to hide in my room for days to recover. Which would void my contract with the studio. Ruin my career. Just when I was getting it back on track, too. It would be tragic. Horrifying for my fans."
"You're right. All ten of them would be devastated," she shot back.
She remembered his joke from yesterday morning. And she hadn’t even had coffee at that point. His mouth twitching with the effort to hold in a smile, he leaned closer. His mouth was inches from hers. "Do you remember every stupid thing I've said?"
"That would be hard, since you've said so many stupid things." Mia's fierce blue gaze burned into him. Challenged him to step over the line she'd drawn.
He loved challenges. "You don't think I'll kiss you again?"
"No," she managed to say. "Not if you're as smart as I think you are."
Their lips were a fraction of an inch apart. Her breath feathered over his mouth, carrying the scent of her lemony iced tea. The car suddenly bounced, and his lower lip touched hers for the barest of moments.
He didn't miss the tiny catch in her breathing.
Thank God for Chicago potholes.
He eased back until he could see the pulse pounding in her neck. Her pupils, almost entirely black. The too-rapid rise and fall of her chest.
"Are you challenging me, Mia?" he murmured. "Throwing down the gauntlet?" The car slowed, and he glanced out the window and saw the now-familiar loading area of the Drake Hotel. "Please say you are."
The car slowed, and Mia had the door open almost before it stopped completely. She r
apped on Pete's window as soon as Finn was out of the car, and watched as it rolled away.
"Let's go," she said, hurrying toward the hotel door.
Was she in a hurry to get inside? To continue their conversation?
Eyeing her stiff, straight back, he was pretty sure that wasn't why she was in a rush.
Maybe she thought he'd ignore the arousal he'd seen in the curve of her body toward him. In the pulse fluttering in her throat. That he'd have forgotten about it by the time they got to the suite.
Not damn likely.
But he walked beside her, careful to stay on her left side, away from her gun hand. Didn't say anything. When they got into the elevator, he stopped himself from crowding her against one of the wood panels and kissing her hard enough to knock off the tiny shades on the wall lamps. He suspected that if he touched her now, while she was hyperalert for trouble, she'd knee him in the balls.
Not the way he wanted this evening to end.
She walked into the suite first, and he stayed next to the door while she checked all the rooms. Then she came back out, double locked the door and lifted the security bolt into place. Exhaled.
They were safe inside the suite. All bets were off
She smiled at him, but it wobbled a little. "Long day. You going to run some lines before you go to bed?"
"Nope. No lines." He reached out for her hand, tangled his fingers with hers. Tugged her closer.
* * *
Mia's heart thudded hard against her chest as Finn slid his fingers between hers and pressed his mouth to hers. The logical part of her brain told her to back away and avoid the quicksand trembling beneath her feet.
But her body wanted to sink into the quicksand. Lose herself in Finn's mouth and spend hours exploring it.
She would give herself a moment. She'd kiss him, then let him go.
She sucked gently at his lower lip, tasting the spicy sweetness of the peppermint candy he'd grabbed on the way out of Oscar's. His hands were at her waist, and as she slid her tongue along the seam of his mouth, he trembled. Tightened his grip on her, until his fingers dug into her hips.
Without any warning, he spun her around and backed her into the wall. Every curve of her body fit perfectly against the hard muscles of his. Swallowing a moan, she gripped the back of his head and pressed her mouth to his.
His hands slid to her ass, igniting more memories of yesterday's kiss. They drew a needy whimper from her throat, and she sucked at his lower lip, needing to taste him. Explore him.
He touched his tongue to her upper lip, tracing its slippery inner surface as if trying to memorize her taste. Lingered there, humming deep in his throat. As if he wanted to spend the night learning her every flavor and texture.
Finally he touched his tongue to hers. He was delicate and gentle rather than possessive, and his careful touch made her heart tremble. Made everything soften inside her. Except her nipples. They were hard as pebbles.
Finn tasted of the tang of mustard and the creaminess of the cheese from his burger. The hoppiness of the beer he'd drunk overlaid it all.
But beneath all of that, she tasted Finn. The man she'd kissed yesterday. The one who'd starred in all her dreams last night.
The man she'd longed to kiss again. And he tasted as good as she remembered.
Lost in their kiss, she wrapped an ankle around his leg. Moved into him as he slid his leg between hers. She twined her arms around his neck to keep him close.
He made her want to press into his leg, ease the ache that was building. Instead, she slid her hands down his back and pulled his shirt from his jeans. Slid her hands over the hot skin of his back, feeling the twitch of every muscle she touched, the tiny hitch of his breath when she found a particularly good spot.
Still kissing him, she burrowed her hands lower. Tried to slide them beneath the waistband of his jeans. She wanted his hard ass in her palms again.
She managed to get only one finger beneath his jeans.
Rearing back, panting, she said, "Where are the dad pants? Why did we go out tonight without them?"
"No idea." He peeled her jacket down one arm and tugged it off. Began working on the other. "I can lose the jeans." He pressed his mouth to her neck and sucked lightly. "Say the word. They're gone."
"No." She nuzzled his neck, and the tender skin beneath his ear tasted a little salty. A little sweet. Tracing patterns there with her tongue, she worked to unfasten the button of his fly. "Clothes stay on." She tugged at his ear lobe.
As he worked his way down her neck to the open vee at the top of her shirt, she felt his lips curve against her skin. "Okay," he said. His breath caressed her damp skin, making her shiver. "No clothes come off."
He fumbled with the buttons of her shirt as his mouth drifted lower. As each button opened, he followed it with his mouth. Cool air washed over her skin, and he sucked gently at the curve of her breast exposed by her bra.
"Purple," he sighed against her cleavage. "My new favorite color."
Her fingers were shaking too much to push the button through the stubborn denim. Finally it popped free, and his jeans slid lower on his hips.
The denim gaped as she slid her hands over his silk-covered ass. "Mmmm," she said, smoothing her hands over the hard muscles. "Even better than I remembered."
The cool air curled around her nipples, and she looked down to see the front snap of her bra opened. It hung from her shoulders, exposing her breasts.
"What happened to no clothes come off?" she managed to say as he cupped both breasts in her hands.
"You're still wearing all your clothes." He nudged the dangling cup of her bra with his chin. "Bra's right there." His nose brushed over one nipple, and she felt the shock all the way to her core. Holy mother of God.
"Not…not really wearing it."
"Not off," he retorted. "I still see purple."
He slicked his tongue over one nipple, then the other, and her legs gave out. She slid down the wall, but Finn caught her in time. Eased her to the floor, then stretched out beside her. Not touching her, though.
Why wasn't he touching her?
He cleared his throat and she cracked an eye open. "Can you, ah, lose the gun? It's kind of cramping my style."
She managed to lift her head and open both eyes. Her shirt fanned out on either side of her body, and her bra was a vivid splash of purple against the black shirt. Her nipples were hard and tight, still aching from the attention from his tongue.
Her Glock was sitting on her hip. Finn was carefully avoiding it. "Don't like my gun?" she managed to say.
"On general principles," he said, leaning away from it, "I don't like my cock this close to a gun."
"I can take care of your principles," she said, working at her belt with trembling hands. When it was unbuckled, she tugged it off and her holster fell to the floor. Finn carefully picked it up and set it on the table.
"My cock thanks you."
She patted the front of his jeans, let her hand explore the thickness of his erect penis. "You're welcome. Wouldn't want him to be…hesitant."
"No hesitation in him. Trust me. Although you'll probably want to check that for yourself." Finn propped himself on one elbow. "Now where was I?"
"We were discussing clothes." Her breasts were swollen. Tight. Aching for his touch. She grabbed his free hand and put it over her breast. "Or lack thereof."
He squeezed gently, and she had to bite the inside of her mouth to suppress a moan. "I vote for lack thereof," he said as he bent to take one nipple in his mouth.
At the first touch of his mouth, she arched into him. "Oh, God, Finn." She blindly reached for him, and her hand slid over the front of his boxers. Let her fingers dance over his hard length. "I like your ass," she said. "Like this better."
"Feeling is…feeling is mutual," he said.
Her hips were moving, and Finn sat up. His fingers moved over her abdomen, and suddenly he yanked her pants lower. The carpet was cool and rough against her bare legs. Finn pulled on
e leg off and slipped a hand into her panties, and she forgot all about the carpet.
He kissed her as he caressed her, swallowing the moans she couldn't hold in. "You purred when you ate your dinner," he said into her mouth. "I wanted to hear it again. But this is much better."
The sound of his voice, combined with his touch, sent a climax rocketing through her. She gripped his shirt in both fists as it went on and on. Before he could take his hand away, she shoved his jeans down his legs. "Condom," she gasped. "Please tell me you have one."
"In the other room," he said.
She shoved him away. "Go. Now."
He stood up, then hopped on one leg as he rid himself of his jeans. She watched his fine ass as he scrambled into his bedroom, returning a moment later holding a foil packet.
She snatched it out of his hands and rolled it onto him, then pulled him into the vee of her legs. He eased into her, rocking against her muscles, until he was all the way inside her.
As he stroked, she felt another orgasm building. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she thrust with him until they were both moving raggedly. Her legs trembled and she buried her face in Finn's neck.
As she soared over the edge again, he stilled, groaning. Finally he collapsed beside her, rolling over so she was lying on his chest.
She curled into him as her breathing returned to normal and feeling returned to the rest of her body. Then she kissed his chest and sat up. Her face felt hot, and so did her chest. Whisker burn. She couldn’t work up the energy to worry about it. "This wasn't supposed to happen. That's why we left our clothes on."
"News flash, babe." He sat up, too, wrapped an arm around her and pulled her against him. "This has been inevitable since the moment we kissed yesterday. Clothes or no clothes."
"It shouldn't have been." The blood was finally flowing in her brain again, and her rational self was screaming 'what were you thinking?' She shouldn't have kissed him. She'd known what would happen.
The moment they kissed, they'd been heading toward this. She should have kept her distance. "This is wrong on so many levels," she sighed. She stood up, hooked her bra and began to button her shirt.
Protect Me (The Donovan Family Book 6) Page 12
