Page 28 of Resurrection

“You want me to take you back to our hotel and show you the ways your body can come for me? Is that what you want?”

Yes.The idea makes my legs tremble with desire. “Don’t be an asshole.”

“I’m just asking. ’Cause for someone who is old enough to decide what she wants, you’ve been confusing the hell out of me.”

“What I said in Boston—”

“Nah, I want to talk to sober Carys. That’s the person I’m interested in right now. Drunk Carys is horny as fuck and hunting for a way to get off.”

“Screw you, Finn.”

His mouth quirks up, and he gives me a told-you-so smirk.

“God, you’re so infuriating. Why couldn’t you have sex with me without being an asshole about it?”

“Tomorrow morning, I’m all yours.” He throws out his hands. “Tonight—you’re gonna sleep it off alone. You realize what’ll happen tomorrow? You’ll go back to skirting around me.” He makes a walking motion with his fingers. “Pretend like this conversation didn’t happen.”

“Maybe I won’t.” But my resolve slips. I want him, but I don’t want the complications from having him.

“You will. It’s safer that way.”

When the waitress appears behind Finn, I say, “Can we get the check, please? I think we’re done here.”

Chapter Eleven

Finn

The next morning, Carys wears dark glasses and won’t meet my gaze. Is she pissed at me for what I said last night, or does she regret coming on to me? Probably both.

We file into the car. Jay eyes the two of us in the rearview mirror but understands Carys well enough not to speak. We’re headed to the location where the FBI agent is holed up waiting for his forged documents to start over. Jay runs a tight ship for Carys, and his ability to get shit done is impressive.

“How far away is this place?” I ask as the city fades into the distance.

“About half an hour,” Jay replies.

“Perfect.” I peek at Carys’s stony face and settle deeper into the seat. I slide my hands along my thighs, and I consider the least assholeish thing to say. “Sleep okay?”

“Shut up, Finn.”

Guess that wasn’t it. “Jetlag can be a bitch.”

Carys tips her glasses down her nose and looks at me over the top of them. My mind flashes to every sexy teacher fantasy I’veever had. As though she senses the tightening in my pants, she takes her sunglasses off with a sigh.

“I’m sorry about coming on to you. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Without her glasses on, it’s obvious she didn’t sleep well, and she’s very hungover. “How do you want to handle FBI guy?”

The awkward postcoital conversation is a reason I didn’t sleep with her last night. If we’re going to have the discussion anyway, I might as well have fucked her for my trouble. At least I would have enjoyed that.

“You don’t want to talk about it?” she says.

“I said what needed to be said. Today we’re focused on getting your shit back and eliminating whatever or whoever is threatening you.”

With her fingers, she twists and turns her black shades. “I’ll take the lead in the conversation.”

“Approaching on our right,” Jay says as the car glides to a stop outside a short, squat, white-sided house that has seen better days.

“I’d say he didn’t get your money,” I say.

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