Out of Time (Out of Line #2) (Volume 2)

by Jen McLaughlin

  I let out the breath I’d been holding and smiled at him. “It’s a plan.”

  “It’s taking all my control not to pick you up right now, throw you onto that bed, and practice making babies with you without actually making any.” He finished up the last button. “But I have a plan on how tonight is going to go, you see. And I’m trying my best to follow it. So if you could stop looking so damn irresistible and stop saying all these things that make me want to kiss you, I’d appreciate it.”

  He curled his hand behind my neck and hauled me against his chest, and the breath whooshed out of my lungs right before he melded his mouth to mine, stealing all conscious thought. I closed my fists over his white dress shirt, wrinkling the material, but I didn’t think he’d mind. Right now all that mattered was this. Us.

  His mouth worked over mine and he pressed his hands to my lower back, his tongue gliding over mine perfectly. I moaned into his mouth and pushed him back against the wall. He went without a fight, but when I tried to start unbuttoning his shirt, he broke off the kiss and grabbed my hands. “Uh-uh. That’s not supposed to happen yet.”

  I let out a small protest. At least, I think that’s what came out. Maybe I just cursed. I didn’t know, all I knew was I needed to feel his skin against mine. “We can go out of order, can’t we?”

  “Nope.”

  “Finn.” I slid my hands under his shirt, skimming over his hard abs, following along the top of his trousers, then dipped lower, barely brushing against his erection. “Are you so sure about that?”

  His head dropped back against the wall and he swallowed so hard I could see his Adam’s apple give way. “Nope…”

  I stuck my leg in between his, liking the extra height these heels gave me. It let me brush my knee against the undersides of his balls, and when I did that, he groaned and flexed his fingers on my hips. He curled them around my sides and cupped my butt, yanking me even closer.

  Then he kissed me again, and I was lost.

  He backed me toward the bed, his lips never breaking free of mine. As he kissed me, his mouth moving over mine with a hunger he seemed to have lost control of, his hands roamed under my dress, skimming the top of the thigh-highs Marie had insisted I wear tonight so “nothing would get in the way.”

  She’d been right. That was an excellent move.

  We fell back on the bed and I closed my legs around his waist, whimpering when he pressed against my core, rolling his hips ever so slowly. I tried not to focus on the fact that this would be the last time I’d get to have him like this for more than a month, but it was hard to do that when it’s all I could think about.

  This whole scene was romantic and perfect.

  But it was still a bittersweet goodbye, no matter how sweet it might be.

  He slid his fingers in between my legs, tracing the line of the panties I wore before slipping underneath them. He ran his finger over me, breaking off the kiss. “That day you came over without wearing any of these? That was fucking hot. From now on, I’ll spend half my life trying to figure out if you’re wearing anything underneath your clothes, and the other half finding out.”

  I scraped my nails down his back. “I’ll keep changing it up then, so you’ll never know.”

  “Jesus, Ginger.” He nibbled on the side of my neck, then swirled his tongue over my pulse. “Are you trying to kill me?”

  I shook my head. “Never that.”

  First, I undid the top button of his shirt with trembling hands, then the next and the next. The whole time I undid his shirt, he kissed me. My neck. My shoulder. My jaw. Anywhere and everywhere that he could reach without moving, he did. I had my legs around his waist, holding him in place, so he only had so much to work with…but man, did he make it work.

  “Ginger,” he murmured in my ear, rolling his tongue over my earlobe. “This strapless dress you’re wearing is perfect, and you look un-fucking-believably gorgeous in it, but it’s gotta fucking go.”

  He tore free of my death grip and stood, urging me onto my stomach before I could so much as say get back here. He bit down on my shoulder and I groaned, gripping the comforter. His fingers found my zipper and he slid it down, slow and agonizing. He kept dropping kisses over my skin as he bared it, and it was driving me insane with want.

  By the time he reached the bottom, I was quivering. He nipped the skin right over my butt, his teeth sinking in just enough to sting. “Finn.”

  “Yeah, babe?” he asked, dropping to his knees behind me and shimmying the dress down to my feet. “You need something?”

  “You.” I pressed my thighs together. “I need you.”

  He skimmed his hands up the outside of my thighs, then kissed the same spot he’d bitten, only on the other side of my butt. He ran his fingers down the backs of my thighs…and back up again. “Soon, my love. But not yet.”

  I shivered and buried my face in the mattress. How dare he ask me if I was trying to kill him? He was the one who was going to freaking kill me. He glided his fingers down my legs again, but this time he came up the insides. And when he reached the top, oh God, he finally gave me what I wanted.

  He slipped his fingers between my legs, rubbing his thumb against my clit in slow circles. I whimpered and pressed back against him, wanting more. He flicked his tongue over the back of my thigh, quickening his strokes. I was so freaking close to what I wanted, but he stopped and stood up, leaving me high and dry.

  “Finn.”

  He undid his pants, let them hit the floor, and yanked his shirt over his head. “Don’t move a muscle. I’m not done with you yet. But first…” He opened the drawer by his bed and pulled out a condom. “We need one of these since we’re just practicing.”

  I grinned and wiggled my butt. “Hurry up or I’ll get started without you.”

  “Fuck yeah. Do it.”

  My cheeks heated up. That had so been an empty threat. I hadn’t actually been planning on doing it. I couldn’t take it back now.

  I rolled over and shot him a look that I hoped was more seductress than deer in headlights, and scooted back on the bed. When I was reclined against the pillows with nothing but my undergarments and a pair of heels on, I trailed my hand down my shoulder.

  I felt stupid and ridiculous until I looked up at him and saw the way he stood there, his fists clenched and his gaze locked on my hand as it moved. Then I felt powerful. So freaking powerful. I bit down on my lip and moved my hand lower, tracing the curve of my breasts while he watched.

  He ripped the condom open and pulled it out, his gaze latched on my hand as he did so. “Take off everything but the heels and the…” he said, his voice gruff. He gestured to my thigh-highs, “…the tights or whatever the fuck they’re called.”

  I sat up and undid my bra, letting it fall to the side. Then I reclined back and closed my hands over my breasts, letting out a small moan. He took a step toward me, his blue eyes dark and his lips parted. “Jesus.”

  “Nope. Stay there,” I said, not taking my hands off myself. This new strength I’d found was exhilarating, and if I was going to do this for him? I was going to do it right, thank you very much. His tattoo-covered muscles flexed when he stopped in his tracks. “No touching yet.”

  He curled his empty hand into a fist at his side. “You’re touching.”

  “Only me.” I rolled my hands over my nipples, licking my lips at the thrill that shot right to my core. Seeing him watching me do this was so freaking hot. “You’ll get your turn.”

  He stepped closer and gripped his erection. “If you get to touch, so do I.”

  I looked down at his hand moving over his shaft and my stomach hollowed out. His abs clenched as his hand worked over himself and I moaned, sliding my hand even lower over my stomach. When I closed my fingers over my mound, he jerked his cock harder. Funny how I still blushed when I thought about
that word.

  I bit down on my lip and moved my fingers over myself, feeling the pressure building up even more so as I watched him touch himself.

  He took a step closer. “Take off the panties, or I’ll take them off for you. But if you make yourself come, with me watching, I’ll blow your fucking mind right after. So I suggest you lose them.”

  I took them off in record time and pressed my fingers against my clit. I was so freaking ready it wouldn’t take much to send me over the edge. I knew it. So I rubbed them in a circle, increasing the pressure when a jolt of pleasure hit me hard. “Oh God.”

  “Fuck,” he muttered, climbing onto the bed. He grabbed my ankle and nibbled on it, then kissed higher on my calf. “Keep going, Ginger. Show me how good you feel.”

  I whimpered and moved my fingers faster. Harder. “Finn…”

  “I’m here,” he said, his voice raw.

  He slid his hands up my body and under my butt. Having him so close to where I was touching myself must have sent me over the edge, because I tossed my head back and forth and my entire body clenched. I increased the pressure, the pleasure and painful need ravaging me until I exploded, squeezing my eyes shut tight at the sheer intensity of it all.

  I didn’t even have time to crash and burn before he was in between my legs, his mouth fastening to mine and his erection pressing against my throbbing clit. All it took was one bump from him, and I came again—miraculously and explosively.

  He deepened the kiss, his teeth digging into my lower lip, and then thrust inside me with one quick stroke. I closed my legs around him, digging my high heels into his bare ass, and clung to him for dear life. He moved fast and hard and heavenly. I wrapped my arms around him and dug my nails in, lifting my hips to take more of him.

  The pressure was building up again, driving me higher and higher until I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to come back down. But then he swirled his tongue over mine and changed his angle, brushing against my clit, and I did crash down.

  But first, oh my God, I soared. I freaking flew.

  He thrust into me one last time, deep, before he tensed over me, breaking off the kiss long enough to utter, “Carrie.”

  He made my name sound like a miracle or some amazing thing only he could have, and I didn’t know what to say in reply. So I wrapped my arms around him and clung tight, squeezing my eyes shut. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” he whispered, his face buried against my neck. He kissed me gently, right under my ear. “I’m going to miss you so damn much.”

  I swallowed hard. “I’ll miss you, too.”

  It was almost funny. I’d been so high moments ago, but now I was back on the ground, and I didn’t want to let go of him.

  I didn’t want to let go because I knew once I did…

  He would leave me.

  I finished my lasagna pretty quickly and studied her from across the candlelit table. She was still eating, so she wasn’t watching me like I was watching her. As a matter of fact, she hadn’t looked up in a while. I knew why. She was sad I was leaving, and I wished I could take it back, almost. Wished I hadn’t agreed to leave. But if I hadn’t, then next year it would have been war.

  I’d only have been delaying the inevitable. At least this way it was on my terms.

  And once it was over, well, then I’d have Carrie. And I’d never leave her side again, if I had any say. I picked up my champagne and finished it with one swallow. I had to be up bright and early at five a.m. tomorrow, but I could indulge a little. No matter how I looked at it, or how many ways I tried to spin it into some bright shiny angle that would make me feel better, I was leaving the woman I loved behind. And I didn’t fucking like it.

  “You’re awfully quiet over there, Ginger.”

  Her head snapped up and she swallowed her last bite. Picking up the cloth napkin with the Christmas tree on the corner I’d bought just for this dinner, she swiped it over her mouth and picked up her glass of champagne. After taking a hearty sip, she cleared her throat and smiled at me.

  It was a strained smile. She was trying to hide how upset she was that I was leaving. “I was busy enjoying the dinner you made. It was delicious.”

  “Thank you. It’s all part of the plan.” I stood up and grabbed the bottle. I stopped at her side and wiggled it in the air. “You ready for a refill yet, slowpoke?”

  “Usually you yell at me for drinking too much.” She downed the rest of her drink and extended her arm, so I filled her glass and then mine. “Now you want me to drink more? Make up your mind.”

  In the background, Perry Como crooned on about a white Christmas. The flickering candlelight played with the shadows across her face. I smiled down at her and held out my free hand. “Well, tonight it’s Christmas Eve, so the rules don’t apply.”

  She slipped her hand into mine and I helped her stand. Once she was on her feet, I led her over to the bare tree. “Look up.”

  She did, her long, graceful neck arching as she did so. “Ah.” She chuckled and tightened her hand on mine. “Mistletoe. That means we have to—”

  I kissed her, not giving her a chance to say another word. When I pulled back, I rested my forehead on hers and clenched my glass tighter. “Kiss.”

  This moment right now? Fucking perfect.

  “Mmhm.” She smiled up at me, finally looking not so sad. “Are we going to dress this naked tree or what?”

  “Of course.” I dropped her hand and cleared my throat. “Do you want colored lights or white? I bought both because I wasn’t sure.”

  “Mom only let us use white. She said it was more elegant, and that the future President of the United States deserved elegant,” she said, her eyes latched on the tree. I reached for the white lights, figuring she’d want to make it like home. “So colored, please.”

  I froze, the white lights in my hand. “You don’t want it the same?”

  “Nope.” She set her glass down and spun on me, her eyes shining. “We’re not them. Why should we have the same things? I want cheeseburgers and beer, not caviar and three-hundred-year-old scotch. I want lasagna and mistletoe kisses, not press photos and chaste handholding. I want this. Us. And nothing you do or try to transform will change that. You make me happy. This makes me happy, and I love you so much for being you.”

  The breath slammed out of my chest and I swear I might have staggered back, her honesty hit me that hard. She really liked me just like I was, and that fucking amazed me. “Then you’ll have this every year. Anything you want, it’s yours.”

  “I want you and only you.” She curled her hands around my neck. “So come back home safely, or I might shrivel up and die.”

  My gut twisted and curled until I thought I might hurl all over her pretty dress she’d worn for me. The words were lovely and sweet, and I knew she intended them as such, but the thought of me dying and her being ruined by it made me sick. Fucking sick.

  I’d never had someone depend on me like this. Need me like this. Not even my father. He’d be upset, but he would move on. She needed me, and damn it, I needed her.

  I rested my cheek on the top of her head, which was a hell of a lot closer with those fuck me shoes on, and closed my eyes. “Sweetheart, I promise you that I’m not planning on going anywhere.”

  “Good.” She rubbed her nose against my chest. “That’s all I need to know.”

  I tightened my arms around her again. “Now let’s get this tree decorated so I can give you my present.”

  “I don’t have one for you.” She nibbled on her lower lip. “I didn’t know we were doing Christmas early.”

  “You don’t have to give me anything.” I kissed the top of her head and reluctantly let go of her. “You’re all the present I need.”

  “I could tell you the same thing,” she said, cocking her brow in a perfect imitatio
n of me. “But you got me something anyway, didn’t you?”

  “That’s different.”

  “How so?”

  I opened the box of colored lights. “Because I want to spoil you rotten.”

  “So do I.” She bent over and pulled out a white angel. “This is cute.”

  “You can’t do that yet. It’s last.”

  She turned to me, the angel perched between her fingers. “Says who?”

  “Me.” I pulled out the lights. “And, like, every single Christmas movie ever made.”

  She waved the angel under my nose. “Remember? No movies as a kid?”

  “Poor, depraved child,” I said, grinning at her. “Don’t worry. I have the best Christmas movie in store for tonight.”

  “What’s that?”

  “National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.”

  She laughed. “It sounds interesting.”

  “Ginger, you have no idea.” I handed her the end to the string of lights. “Hold that.”

  “I’ve never done this before.” She frowned at the green corded lights in her hand. “Be warned.”

  I shook my head and squatted at the bottom of the tree. She was close enough that I had an interesting view up her skirt. I’d feel like a pervert staring up at her, but hell, she was mine and I was hers. I was allowed to look. “Just wrap it around like this.” I wrapped it around the base of the tree. “And make sure you don’t wrap yourself in it.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’m not that bad.”

  “If you say so.” I stood and wrapped the light around her legs. “Oops. Would you look at that?”

  She burst into laughter and stepped free, her heel getting tangled in the little spot between the cords. “You’re such a dork.”

  “You mean I’m adorkable, right?”

  “Oh yeah. So much so.” She snorted. “Help me out some more, will ya?”