Red-Hot Honeymoon. Joss Wood
tees and shirts, shoes and ties, and she’d had a blast.
‘Anything else, Callie?’
You knew you were a professional shopper when the sales clerks knew you by name, Callie thought. ‘No, I think that’s it, Annie. If you’d like to start ringing that pile up, I’ll take these to Finn so that he can try them on. We’ll meet you at the counter in a few.’
‘Sounds like a plan,’ Annie agreed, and Callie left her to gather up the clothes while she walked into the three-cubicle dressing room, the shirts over her arm.
The first two were empty, and she skidded to a halt as she saw Finn’s reflection in the third changing room mirror through a gap in the curtains.
She couldn’t pull her gaze away from the perfection that was his body. He was wearing nothing more than a brief pair of pants, and his body rippled with muscle as he shoved a shirt back onto a hanger. His legs were long and muscled, his tanned shoulders broad, his butt round and tight. His broad chest and rippled stomach made all the saliva in her mouth disappear.
How was she supposed to go on holiday with him, knowing how much she wanted him? This gnawing need to know what he felt like, how he made love, how he would feel as he filled her, completed her, was unusual for her, and it scared her as nothing else ever had. Yes, she needed to explore his body—but she also wanted to dig below his cool, calm and controlled surface to see what was underneath.
That wasn’t good. She always kept her distance from men who made her feel too much, who intrigued her. They were dangerous. They made her want more than sex, more than a brief affair, and nobody had made her want more like Finn did.
It didn’t matter how much she wanted him, she reminded herself. She could want and wish and pray, but the people she needed to stick around never did. Remember?
That cold dose of reality didn’t make her desire for Finn disappear. Her mind might realise that he was dangerous but her body still craved him.
She could never allow herself to risk getting to know him too well. She couldn’t get emotionally attached to him. But she wanted to know his touch, his taste, how it felt to have that powerful body giving and receiving pleasure.
Finn’s eyes met hers in the mirror and he just stared at her, half naked, his desire for her blazing from his face. She watched, fascinated, as his penis grew into an erection from nothing more than looking at her. Finn didn’t try to hide his reaction. Instead he just kept his eyes locked on hers, his hands on his hips.
‘Keeping my hands off you is going to be a problem,’ he said, his voice low and slow. He turned to face her and yanked the curtains open.
Callie licked her lips and shook her head, trying to be sensible.
‘I’m not thinking of my failed engagement or my ex. I promise that I am not thinking of anyone but you,’ Finn growled.
She heard the frustration and the truth in his voice. He wanted her—possibly as much as she did him.
How was he able to look inside her head and see what she was thinking? He seemed to be able to intuit immediately and correctly what she was thinking without her saying a word.
Nobody had ever managed to do that before.
‘Too soon,’ Callie stated, sighing as she felt her panties dampen. ‘It really is, Finn.’
An F-bomb shattered the loaded silence between them and then Finn’s hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. Yanking her into the cubicle, he jerked the curtains shut and the shirts she held fell to the floor.
Finn took her chin in his hand and tipped her head up. ‘Have you ever stood in front of a fire and wanted to be in the heart of it? Inside the colours … the heat? Yeah, you have—because that’s how you were looking at me just now. Like I was the fire and you wanted to feel my heat. You want me …’
She wanted to deny it but she couldn’t. Of course she wanted him—she’d been fantasising about him for months. But it was just lust and attraction and the fact that she hadn’t had an orgasm in far too long.
Didn’t she deserve to feast on him just a little?
‘It’s just lust. I haven’t felt it for a while,’ she told him.
‘It’s a crazy chemical reaction. But we can handle a little chemistry, can’t we?’
Yes—no. Maybe … What did she know? Her brain had long since shut down.
‘So let’s test the theory. Kiss me, lose yourself in my mouth. Right here, right now. Let me taste all of your heat, your passion.’
How could she say no? A hot, no-holds-barred kiss? She wanted it as much as he did. Just to test the theory, of course. People had sex-based relationships all the time—hell, she’d had sex-based relationships all her adult life. What was so different about Finn? Nothing, she resolutely lied to herself. Yes, he was hot—yes, he set her nerve-endings on fire—yes, he made her lady bits squirm. But she’d had good-looking men before. She’d handled them and she’d handle Finn Banning.
She would—even if it killed her. And this was her chance to prove it.
Then Finn’s mouth covered hers and she realised that she was right to be hesitant, right to be a little scared. Because she’d never been held like this, touched liked this—God, tasted like this.
His arms were strong, his hands tender, one on her hip, the other holding the back of her head, keeping her mouth to his. She could feel the heat of his bare chest as her breasts smashed against it, could feel his erection brushing her stomach, hard and wonderful. But his mouth …
She would never get enough of his taste, of the way he sipped and then suckled and then, to mix it up, swirled his tongue around hers. He gently bit her bottom lip, then soothed the sting away with a swipe of his tongue. And while his mouth was busy decimating hers his hand started to explore her body.
She felt his fingers moving over the bumps of her spine, drifting across her bottom, sneaking under her skirt to feel the backs of her thighs, tracing her thong where it disappeared between her butt cheeks. He skimmed her happy place, and when she wiggled against his hand slid his finger under the cotton to her entrance, slipping through the heat and wet to that tiny bundle of nerves.
Callie felt her knees buckle and Finn instantly tightened his arm around her back, plastering her to him as her legs widened, allowing him deeper access. One finger, then two, and his thumb was brushing her clitoris.
‘You feel so amazing …’ Finn muttered against her mouth, green eyes blazing.
‘We should stop.’
‘Hell, no,’ Finn muttered. ‘Just this once … don’t think … just lose yourself.’
‘We can’t have sex in a changing room cubicle, Finn,’ Callie protested, trying to being sensible.
‘We’re not going to make love. You’re just going to come, and I’m going to watch you fall apart in my arms.’
‘I can’t—’
‘Yeah, you can—and you will,’ Finn told her, hooking a small stool with his foot and dragging it over to them.
Turning Callie around, he placed her hands on the mirror before lifting her right foot up onto the stool. Bunching her skirt in one hand, he lifted it slowly to reveal her lacy thong. He pulled it to one side and stared at her waxed strip, tracing it with one finger before sliding that finger into her folds. Callie watched, turned on, as he started to pleasure her, sliding his finger over her clitoris and into her vagina in a slow, steady, orgasm-building rhythm.
His other hand came up to undo the buttons of her shirt, leaving it to fall open and show a hint of her ivory bra. His tanned hand was dark against her lighter skin—and then it disappeared beneath the cup of her bra to cover her breast. Instantly her nipple swelled into his palm, demanding attention.
His fingers