Page 102 of Can't Help Falling

“Yeah. I used to keep one in my wallet, but then with Ky... Sometimes I’ll ask her to grab some cash out of there. I keep her medical cards in there. It just felt weird.”

Fin face-palmed. “God, you’re cute.”

She hoisted herself off of him and was two steps away from the bed when his arm came around her waist. “Where are you going?”

“To get condoms,” she said, rolling her head to one side when he kissed up, over her shoulder to just under her ear.

“Mmm,” he groaned. “There’s time.”

He tugged her back so that she sat at the edge of the bed, between his spread legs. She could feel his hardness pressed against her ass, straining against the fabric of his briefs. Tyler’s hands started a slow journey down her legs to the backs of her knees. She couldn’t stop staring at their legs pressed up against one another like that.

“You have long legs,” she gasped as he drew a line up the inside of her thigh.

“So do you,” he said, nibbling on the curve of her shoulder. He hooked his chin over her collarbone, peering down her body. “And killer tits.”

Fin burst out laughing. “No. Just no. Never. You are not allowed to say killer tits when you have your hand between my legs. Or ever, for that matter. Strike it from your vocabulary.”

He was laughing too, his smile pressed into the side of her neck. “Thought you’d like that. Figured it would fit my ’80s villain image.”

She turned her head to one side, caught his eye. “You know I don’t think of you like that anymore.”

“I know,” he whispered. “You verb me.”

“I do.”

This time when they kissed, her head twisted, his head over her shoulder, it was slow and long and spanned on and on. He had one hand pressed to the soft skin halfway up one thigh and the other hand palm down over her belly. Fin absorbed the slow, caressing nudges of his tongue, warming her, liquefying her. It wasn’t until she started wiggling in the cage of his arms that he finally moved his hands.

“Tyler,” she whispered, letting her head drop back as one of his warm, rough hands smoothed over her breast. His heart danced against her back.

Tyler weighed her in his hand, his thumb strumming across her nipple once, twice, and the third time she arched her back and pushed into him. His hips pushed forward into her ass and she made a sound she hadn’t expected to make. Turned on, desperate, tight and relaxed at the same time.

“Tyler,” she whispered again and he hooked his chin over her shoulder again. Just watching his hand play with her breast.

“I really had no idea you were shaped like this,” he breathed, letting his other hand come up and join in the fun. He was firm and gentle; he molded her and plucked and pushed her together, creating a deep crevasse of cleavage that immediately made him groan. He picked up her hands and made her hold her own breasts together while he dipped his fingers into the dark place between. He pulled her hands away and kissed her palms, one and then the next, guided her hands behind her, to his hair, making her body arch like a crescent moon.

“I might accidentally yank your hair,” she whispered, flexing her fingers against his scalp, feeling every impossibly silky strand against her fingers like some kind of liquid fire.

“You just do whatever you need to do, love,” he whispered, one of his hands still plumping her breast and the other one back on her knee. He drew that same straight line up the inside of her thigh and her leg swung free like a door. Knock knock, his fingers seemed to say.

“God, yes,” Fin replied, answering his unspoken question. His hand hesitated only briefly, his eyes still looking down her body, watching himself touch her.

And then the flat of his palm was laid over her, giving her his heat. His energy. She made a guttural sound. The man had no idea how potent he was.

“All right?” he asked, stilling.

“The hands,” she gasped, “have a certain kind of energy. Different than other parts of the body. Can you feel it, Ty? What you’re putting into me right now? God.” She tossed her head to one side. Even through her underwear, his hand over her heat was like mainlining him. It was a river of Tyler Concentrate all streaming in through her body, arousing her, overwhelming her, inundating her. She realized her hands were in fists in his hair, but couldn’t relax against the feeling. “Close your eyes,” she instructed him. “Do you feel it? What’s there between you and me? Even if you don’t believe, can you feel it?”

He did as she asked, his hand still and firm between her legs, his eyes clamped closed. She could feel him trying. Feel him searching. And that too touched her. After a moment, his breath hitched. “Wow. I think... Yeah, I think I can feel it. It’s like a flow. Like a river.”

“Exactly,” she gasped. He lessened the pressure against her but she chased him forward with her hips. “More.”

He didn’t need more urging than that. Tyler’s hand slipped up her stomach, his fingers pressed to that temptation of a line where her underwear cut across her skin.

“More?” he whispered.

“More,” she answered.

His fingers slid underneath her underwear and found her wetness. “Ohholymotherfuckdammit.”

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