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Finland. Montgomery.
Is cleaning up his mess.
He tosses the paper aside and rips off another section to repeat it on the other leg, both times stopping just short of the apex between my thighs.
“Fin,” I sigh more than I intend to, drawing his sparkling eyes up to me.
“Yeah?” he asks as he tears off a third section.
“You missed a spot.”
Fin scoffs, his head falling but his shoulders bouncing in a muted laugh that brings my own snicker bubbling up my throat.
“Show—” He clears his throat when his words betray his humor and lets the gravel filter back into his sexy tone. “Show me where.”
I point directly at my crotch with pursed lips and a caged laugh. “Right there.”
“Goddamn, sweet.” Fin chuckles at my antics and raises his towel wielding hands. “Can you give a man a second?”
“Nope,” I rush out on a snicker that dies down the second his hands are spreading my thighs and coming between to swipe away at my soaking pussy.
Fin tosses the towel and reaches for another to repeat the torture that has soft mewls and little gasps chasing his actions.
“All better?” He asks as he looks up at me, that earlier sparkle replaced with a heated and dark look that makes me almost ask for another to sop up the new mess I’m making.
“Better,” I breathe because I don’t want to seem needy, but I can’t look away from him as he straightens.
“Now put your clothes on.” Fin leans down to press a tender kiss to my lips and pinches my chin. He tilts my head to the side, bringing his lips to my ear. “So I can peel them back off of you later.”
Chills. Shivers. Goosebumps.
They all run down my spine and across my body.
Because Fin Montgomery wants to peel my clothes off.
Again.
And I’m notfreaking out about it.
Again.
“Can’t.”Babe, honey, dear?He keeps calling me sweet and I feel like I should say something back, even though I hate that I love the endearment. “I gotta head back.”
“To where?” His snapped frame stands tall as shit against me when his spine straightens and his deep brow stares down at me.
I swallow when the man feels slightly intimidating and square my shoulders against the changed aura. “To places.”
Fin growls. “So you’re just going todine and dash?” Rolling his eyes, he pushes away from me and shoves a hand through his hair.
Wait …
He’s, what … worried? Feeling used?
A humorless laugh nearly busts from my lips, but even it is too exhausted to make its way up my throat.
How many times has hemade women feel like that?
Stupid rockstar.
