Tempting Heat (Tempt Me Book 1)

by Sara Whitney

  “I may have underestimated the odds of frostbite,” he said with a chattering of his teeth. “I think it’s time we come up with another plan.”

  Ten

  Tom knew what he had to suggest. It was the only thing that made sense. And he was far, far too excited about it, which meant he needed to find a way to make the suggestion without sounding like the creep Finn had thought he was until about twelve hours ago.

  “So I’ve—” he began, but she cut him off.

  “Will you sleep with me?”

  The blanket slipped from his numb fingers to puddle at his feet as Finn made a strangled sound.

  “I mean, oh my God, not that. But I think maybe if we shared blankets, we might be warmer. In the same bed. Wearing clothes.”

  Even though sharing a bed and blankets and body heat had been the same thing he was thinking, her words still left him momentarily mute.

  “Never mind. I’m walking outside now,” she muttered. “Let the blizzard claim me.”

  “No!” He lurched forward. “I was going to suggest the same thing. It’s the smartest option.” Smart. Yep, this was purely a matter of survival. “So, uh, your room or mine-slash-your roommate’s?”

  “Mine of course. Do you want me to dig up a hat or gloves for you from the stash?”

  It was a good idea, but no way was Tom covering his hands if they’d be anywhere near Finn’s skin. “Nah, I’ll give it a go without.”

  He crossed to the threshold of her room and paused. The memory of Finn’s head resting on his leg while he’d read to her on the couch had kept him up—yes, literally up—and now he was about to crawl under the covers with her.

  You can do this. Don’t make this weird. She’s only being practical, and so are you.

  “Which side?” His voice rasped, and he prayed she’d chalk it up to the late hour and the amount of reading aloud earlier.

  When she pointed to the right, he went obediently, dragging the blankets he’d stolen from Josie’s bed. Finn slid into the other side, and together they layered the blankets around and on top of themselves. When they were done, they were tucked in and bundled so tightly that he could barely move, with Finn as a little mound of fabric next to him.

  “Better?” he murmured.

  “Yes,” she said with a sigh.

  A shiver ran through her body, and he edged closer to her, wanting to shield her from the temperature.

  “I used a little battery to check the news on my phone.” He spoke into the dark, not ready to fall asleep quite yet. “Sounds like the power company’s working overtime to get everything restored.”

  “I don’t envy them.” She shuddered, which shifted her close enough that her hat brushed the tip of his nose.

  “The offer still stands to chop your furniture into a burn pile.”

  Her elbow connected with his midsection, although the impact was blunted by the three shirts he was wearing.

  They lapsed into silence, but the cadence of her breathing suggested that she wasn’t close to sleep yet.

  “Tom?”

  “Hmm?”

  She rolled to face him, and the moon offered enough light for him to see the silvery outline of her features. “Just curious. How many of your students are in love with you?”

  He huffed a laugh at the unexpected question. “That’s what you want to know? All the ground we’ve covered today, the deep dark secrets we’ve revealed, the new depths we’ve explored, and you want to know how many eighteen-year-olds hang around after my lectures to ask if I have a girlfriend?”

  “Yes. Obviously.”

  He rolled so they were face-to-face. “I’m a twenty-six-year-old authority figure to them. You wouldn’t think very highly of me if I kept track. I wouldn’t think very highly of me if I kept track.”

  She smirked. “I’m taking that to mean ‘All of them. All my students are in love with me.’”

  He shrugged, uneasy with the whole topic. “Who knew economics was so sexy? I always politely ignore them and keep grading their papers.”

  She heaved a sigh. “Those poor kids. I don’t know what I would’ve done if my TAs had been half as hot as you.”

  Finn thought he was hot. Finn. Thought he. Was hot. The realization sped from his brain to points south, and he shifted fractionally to keep those southern points away from the woman lying next to him.

  “What do you want to do after you finish your dissertation?” she asked.

  Yeah, that killed the vibe. With a groan, he rolled onto his back and stared holes into the ceiling. Looked like uncertainty about the future could keep him awake in places other than his tiny grad-student apartment.

  “Mostly I want to finish. I’m in the final stages, but it still feels like I have to scale a whole mountain range with a bag of rocks on my back. After that, I dunno… become a professor? Work for a think tank or a hedge fund? Revolutionize the field with my new theories on the hidden benefits of ethical investing?”

  Ridiculous to feel paralyzed by options, yet here he was. Then Finn chased away his apprehensions by saying, “New plan: You save the world as a masked superhero economics guy.”

  He ran with it, happy for now to choose levity over concerns about his future. “Captain Capitalism. Less swole than Captain America, but with a better stock portfolio.”

  She rewarded his dad joke with a giggle. A shame though, for her to laugh in the dark. It meant he wasn’t able to enjoy the shape of her lips as they curved upward and begged to be kissed.

  “How about you? Is marketing your forever calling?”

  She burrowed closer to him. She actually burrowed. The room was frigid, but Tom was starting to sweat.

  “Yes, actually. I love it. Someday I’d like to open my own agency, be the boss, choose my own clients.”

  “I think that makes you Captain Capitalism.”

  “I bet my costume’s cuter than yours.”

  “I bet it is.”

  Their words drifted away, and Tom breathed in the scent of her on the pillowcase and enjoyed the silence that enveloped them. Finn must have had a similar thought because she said sleepily, “The street’s usually so much noisier. This is nice.”

  Another wriggle moved her even closer until her head rested against his shoulder. He slid an arm under her, prepared to yank it back if she objected.

  She didn’t, so he tightened his hold. “Are you warmer now?”

  He took her contented little noise to mean yes, so he closed his eyes and willed his body to relax and his brain to shut off while her cold nose pressed against his jaw.

  “Tom?”

  She sounded so adorably drowsy that he couldn’t help pressing his lips to the top of her head, even though she likely couldn’t feel it through her hat. “Yes, Huck?”

  “I’m glad you passed out after walking Josie home.”

  His heart squeezed.

  “Even though my being here likely cursed the power lines?”

  Her breath tickled his neck as she sighed. “I’m glad about that too.”

  Eleven

  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 in A 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 the what ifs and the maybe 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 felt right, 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’d ever been 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’m the 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.

  “You’re lucky I didn’t call Mom.”

  “You wouldn’t!” Finn leaped off the bed at that thought. “Jake, swear you won’t tell Mom. I haven’t mentioned that anybody’s staying with me when we’ve texted.”

  “I really should.” Jake sighed. “I mean, Tom? The guy who posted your texts in high school?”

  Finn held her breath, hoping that Tom hadn’t heard Jake’s words. His face was neutral as he stood, grabbed his coffee, and left the room. Once he was gone, she returned her attention to her brother.

  “Turns out, I misjudged him. Badly,” she said quietly. How bizarre, to have become Tom’s defender. “It was a weird coincidence that got us stuck together this weekend, that’s all.” Then a thought hit her. “Wait, why are you concerned now? I texted you Thursday night!”

  Jake’s voice turned sheepish. “I, ah, didn’t see it until five minutes ago.”

  “It’s Sunday, Jake!” Now it was Finn’s turn to sigh. “Let me guess. You’ve used this blizzard weekend to work nonstop, and you haven’t taken the time to check your phone.”

  “Um” was all he offered in his own defense.

  Finn had learned one thing growing up with a driven, perfectionist brother who’d worked every day of his life to lift their little family out of dire economic straits: the best defense was a good offense. Jake’s lack of a social life was the one thing he didn’t want to admit was less than satisfactory, and bringing it up was a low blow. But she had to do something to cut off the lecture about personal responsibility and good choices that she sensed brewing.

  “You are aware it’s the weekend, right? And that normal people go home at five on Friday and then spend the next two days having fun with their friends? A girlfriend even?”

  “I’m not having this discussion again.” His voice took on the brother-knows-best tone she hated. “You know I’m on the partnership track, and that’s what matters.”

  “But is it wise to put everything on hold while you chase that sweet, sweet corner office?”

  Sadly, Jake and his one-track mind couldn’t be distracted. “Let me talk to the guy.”

  “Absolutely not.” Finn wouldn’t be budging on that.

  “Fine,” he snapped after a brief silence-off, sounding exactly like the bossy sixteen-year-old he used to be. It made her smile. Workaholic or not, she missed him.

  “At least promise me that you didn’t spend this weekend literally snowed in at the office.”

  “Hey, would you look at the time? I really need to go.”

  Oh, now he wanted to get off the phone. She’d bet everything in her bank account that he was sleeping on his office couch so he wouldn’t miss any useful working hours.

  “Let’s get lunch once the snow clears up,” she suggested. Her brother would make time for her. Probably.

  “Maybe in a few weeks,” he said vaguely, promising nothing. “And tell Tom that if he makes you cry again, I’ll break his fucking face.”

  He hung up before she could respond, and she tossed the phone down on her bed with a growl. She loved her stupid brother, but his timing really sucked.

  She grabbed her coffee off the bedside table and took a sip, discovering it was cooling as quickly as the feeling of Tom’s lips on hers. Man. What a waste of momentum.

  And now she had to walk out of her bedroom and face him. What could she possibly say? No way did she have the courage to ask him to start up where they left off. Did she?

  In the kitchen, she found him at the table, working at his computer.

  “Yay for power,” he said drily. “I can get on with my edits.”

  Finn blinked. He’d transitioned from starring in the hottest make out session of her life to fiddling with macroeconomic theories? That wasn’t good. Apparently the experience didn’t rate the same for him.

  “Everything okay with your brother?”

  “Yeah, he—”

  But she was interrupted by a terrible sound. The most unwelcome sound in the world.

  A snowplow.

  Twelve

  Tom felt the noise of the plow on the asphalt like a physical scrape along his skin.

  The plow meant freedom. Freedom meant an end to the strangest and best few days of his life.

  He wasn’t ready for this to be over.

  He stood and walked to the windows where the view confirmed his fears: the big blade of the plow was creating an ever-expanding path that would lead him to public transportation and back to his regularly scheduled life.

  “Lo
oks like you’re about to have your apartment to yourself,” he said when Finn joined him. “Better late than never, right?”

  “Right,” she replied, staring at the street with a crease in her brow.

  And honestly, it was time. He hadn’t intentionally listened to her conversation with her brother, but he’d picked up enough words before he slid out of the room to know that even though Jake was five years older than him and Finn, her protective older brother was familiar with the rough outline of the slut-shaming Facebook saga. Jake had it as wrong as everybody else, but his disapproval wasn’t a vote in favor of Tom hanging around for any longer than necessary.

  Farther down the block, he saw long stretches of shoveled sidewalks. The good people of Chicago had been busy while he’d been losing himself in the feel of Finn’s lips against his as he’d always dreamed. He pushed down a sigh, not wanting her to guess how reluctant he was to give up her company.

  “Give me a second to get my things together and I’ll get gone.”

  She was slow to turn from the window, and when she did, her mouth was turned down at the corners in a frown. “Okay.”

  He ducked into Josie’s room and pulled off his borrowed clothes. His own jeans had dried stiff after he’d submerged them in snow, and his henley had definitely seen cleaner days, but they’d work to get him back home.

  He emerged dressed like himself again and packed up the few items he’d left scattered on the table. Normally he took more care when he stowed his laptop and notes, but a voice in his brain was shouting that the sooner he got out of there, the less likely he was to say or do something stupid.

  Finn remained motionless as he crossed the room to slide on his coat. Even though he was doing his best to exit without embarrassing himself, “something stupid” was brewing on the tip of his tongue. He could offer her his phone number or ask to see her again. He could thank her for providing evidence that every so often, good things did come his way.

  He couldn’t force any of the words past his tongue though. He was lucky to have gotten the chance to set things right with her and shake the Etch A Sketch clean. Asking for anything else was asking to be disappointed all over again.