Page 56 of Fighting for Tawny

The air grew colder this late in the fall in Chino Hills compared to LA and Laguna Beach. Finnigan blew on his icy hands to warm them. Somehow, life was unbalanced without Tawny keeping order. Luca and Mallory were expecting a baby and wanted to get married but refused to do it without Tawny. Justice and Brielle’s baby was due any day now, and Tawny would miss its birth. Hutch and Jiena’s wedding plans were moving forward with a December ceremony already booked at a venue in Hawaii, and like Luca and Mallory, they didn’t want to celebrate without Tawny. The holidays were fast approaching, and Finnigan wanted, no needed, the love of his life home with him.

“This ends with me,” he vowed. “I swear I’m taking these guys down.”

“Not without me, tough guy.”

Finnigan froze. Tawny wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her sweet, lean body against his back. His heart somersaulted, and his pulse raced from her nearness. Her warm breath tickled his ear. When she circled it with her tongue and tugged the lobe into her mouth, Finnigan grew as hard as a rock.

“Toolshed. Now,” she whispered.

He grabbed her hand, and they sprinted toward the rickety shed. They burst through the double-wide doors and barred them with a beam. Finnigan dragged a workbench in front of the doors for extra security, then reached for Tawny.

Their mouths met in an explosion of unbridled passion. Tongues sparred. They pressed their lips harder and harder together until their teeth clashed. Without breaking their frantic kisses, Tawny pushed Finnigan's heavy jacket off his shoulders and picked at the buttons on his shirt. He, in turn, unzipped her jumpsuit and pulled it down her body. She unbuckled his belt and loosened his pants. Finnigan shoved them down his hips, and they shed the rest of their clothing.

They sank to the cold, dirty floor. Neither cared. Finnigan softened his kisses and caressed Tawny’s face, as soft and silky as rose petals, with the back of his hand. His mouth left hers and traced a path of butterfly kisses down her neck. He paused at the hollow of her throat, where her pulse beat against his lips.

“Your heart is racing, my love.”

Tawny reached out and placed her hand over his heart. “So is yours.”

The rapid rise and fall of her chest drew his attention to her breasts. His mouth continued to move down her body, lingering over each spot. Finnigan inhaled the light scent of Ivory soap. The cleanness of it further excited him, and if possible, he grew harder. He brushed his thumb across her tight, erect nipples before he drew one and then the other into his mouth. The familiar taste of those buds sent him reeling…whirling. His heart pounded hard and fast when Tawny moaned low in her throat and arched her back. He licked and kissed his way down her torso and flat abdomen with excruciating slowness. He splayed his hand against her stomach, and it clenched beneath his touch.

“Red,” he moaned her nickname. “Red, I want you so much. I’ve dreamed about this, about making love to you every damn night since you’ve been undercover.”

“Finn…I love you. I love what you do to me, what you give to me…”

He parted her legs and flicked his tongue, teasing her. His long, unhurried strokes of her sex plunged her over the edge, and she gasped from an orgasm.

“Oh, God, Finn! Give me more!”

Finnigan’s mouth claimed hers in a slow, erotic kiss. He pleased her a second time, then eased into her slick, tight center. Finnigan waited, savoring this moment. God, he missed this, this melding of their bodies into one. She breathed his name and clutched him tightly to her. He took her mouth in a hot kiss and began thrusting against her. Tawny lifted her hips to meet each one of his thrusts as his tongue imitated his lovemaking. He prolonged their pleasure, changing his rhythm from fast to slow, until the sensations they created overpowered him. With one final hard thrust, Finnigan and Tawny reached the pinnacle together and muffled their cries of mutual pleasure with warm kisses. After his heart rate returned to semi-normal, Finnigan rolled off Tawny and cradled her head against his chest.

Her hand caressed his face. “I love your scruff. It’s so sexy.”

He brought her palm to his lips and kissed it. “I love you. Marry me, Red.”

Finnigan heard her sharp intake of breath, and she buried her face in his neck. A moment later, an uncomfortable wetness saturated his skin. “Aw…sweetheart, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

She leaned up on an elbow and pressed a sweet kiss on his lips. “Yes, Marcus Finnigan. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

He captured her mouth again and kissed her hard. “When this is over, I’ll propose properly, with a ring. To honor you.”

“No. This proposal is perfect. You honor me by being here. To protect me.”

“So, no ring?” he teased.

“Oh, hell yes, I want something sparkly like you promised in your letter!”

“Sparkly it is,” Finnigan replied, picturing the ring he’d already bought sitting in a black velvet case on their dresser in the home they shared. A simple diamond solitaire, it elegantly reflected Tawny’s beauty and personality.

He didn’t want to spoil their mood, but they had to make decisions about the case moving forward. “Tawny, there’s something you should know. Joy and Precious are dead from a heroin overdose.”

She let out a soft cry. “Oh my God, no! I suspected they wouldn’t live long once they returned to CIFW. I suspected it! Why didn’t I try to stop them from quitting?”

He caressed her arm to comfort her. “Tawny, it wouldn’t have mattered. Warden Stoltz had planned to yank them out of the program regardless of what they wanted. We couldn’t save Joy and Precious, but we can do something to keep Dee and Barbie from meeting an even worse fate.”

“Because they’re being used as drug mules.”

Of one mind, they said simultaneously, “We have to get them out.”

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