Page 16 of Exile and Embrace

“There is.” His gaze drags up and down my body as I stand.

He’s not subtle about it, and I don’t think he wants to be.

The room grows a thousand degrees hotter as his gaze connects with mine. “But I don’t think you want to hear it. And since there’s nothing I can do about it, it’s better not to say.”

“Nothing you could say could shock me. I worked in a prison.”

He barks out a laugh. “That’s fair. I suppose working in there, you would have heard it all.”

“Then come on, out with it.” I wave a hand in his direction. “What did you miss the most while you were in prison, jailbird?”

“If that nickname is going to stick, then I’m going to have to think of a good one for you.” Finn gets up and heads for the washroom. “Sex and alcohol. That’s what I missed the most while I was in prison. That and a hot shower where I didn’t have to stare at another man’s junk while trying to wash my own.”

His tone is low and husky, sending a shiver down my spine. Butterflies erupt in my stomach, and my pussy clenches.

There is no way someone like Finn Byrne is bad at sex.

Down, girl. He is nothing but a bad idea.

It’s been a long while since I was with someone. And if we have to pretend to be engaged, it’s going to be a longer while until I can sleep with somebody again.

Maybe I could have just this one night. No strings attached.

No. I know what happens when Byrne boys crash into lives. They scorch everything in their paths.

But it would be just once, right? One little night couldn’t hurt.

Except, I know it would. It might be a good time—hell, I was sure it was going to be a great time—but it’s one that I should avoid.

Although, the way Finn looks at me makes me think that it might not be as easy to resist him as I hope.

There is no denying that he’s charming when he wants to be, even if he kills people for a living.

Yet another reason why being involved with him is a bad idea.

I make a show of wrinkling my nose as I kneel back down to the suitcase and pull out a bottle of vanilla whisky and two cups. “Well, lucky for you, I can help with one of those.”

Finn’s eyes light up as he takes in the bottle and grabs a pair of shorts from his suitcase. “I’m going to head for a shower. When I come out, we are definitely splitting that bottle.”

I get up and set the bottle on the coffee table as he disappears into the washroom.

The door closes with a soft click, leaving me in an empty room.

I shed my clothes quickly and pull on the shirt and shorts before turning off the overhead light. I shuffle my way across the floor, reaching for the light on the nightstand.

Warm light fills the room as I settle on the bed and hope that the sheets are clean.

Not that I plan on getting beneath the covers at all.

Especially if we’re going to be sharing a bed.

I’m going to make this as cold and clinical as possible.

But when the bathroom door opens and Finn is there wearing nothing but a pair of shorts, lust burns through my body as rivulets of water trail down the defined muscles of his stomach.

I don’t know how much longer I’m going to keep up my mental game of pretend.

Finn ruffles his dark hair with a towel before tossing it back in the bathroom. He grabs the bottle of vanilla whisky before joining me on the bed.

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