Page 22 of Riptide

I lean in slightly to let my words slip between us, showing him a side I haven’t let out yet. “That depends, are you planning on misbehaving?”

Finn’s smirk deepens, nostrils flaring with an inhale. “Oh, Foxx, you have no idea how much I’d love to misbehave with you.”

Letting my grin break free, more weight of expectation lifts from my chest. “You might want to be careful what you wish for.”

“Or what?” The way he nibbles on his lower lip has me almost reaching for him. I move closer just as he does, catching that salty sea air scent of whatever body wash he uses, and it makes me feel dizzy. If I moved my head just slightly, our mouths would be inches apart.

“Then I’d have to remind you who’s in charge of how many orgasms you’re allowed tonight.”

His eyes almost roll in his head as he shifts his hips slightly. The way his lips part and that pink tongue sneaks out to moisten the plump skin there... God, I want to taste him.

“You still pretending you haven’t already made up your mind about me?” he murmurs.

“Not pretending, just debating what should happen next…”

“Hm.” His voice drops, just a fraction. “Well, I’m done waiting for you to drag me home.”

And just before my mouth can drop open at his eagerness, he stands, rolling his shoulders and adjusting himself slightly before tilting his head toward the door.

“Come on.” Tossing some cash onto the bar, he slides his hands into his pockets. “Let’s get out of here.”

I should hesitate, drag this out more like he said. I should tell him we don’t have to rush this, that we can sit here for another drink, that I’m in no hurry.

But I don’t.

Because I want this.

So I follow him out the door.

Chapter nine

Finn

Thedoorswingsshutbehind us, and the second we step outside, the cool night air forces me to take a breath. But it does absolutely nothing to temper the burning low in my stomach, making my whole body feel like it’s about to combust.

Foxx takes a step forward, his energy shifting from the calm, collected guy inside to something barely contained. I can feel his anticipation nipping at my skin. So, I lean into the feeling I’m getting from him and grab his hand, pulling him to the side of the building, out of sight, away from the crowd, away from the half-second pause where I might have hesitated.

His back barely hits the wall before I’m on him, my mouth devouring his like we’ve been waiting for this exact moment all damn night. Except it’s been less than thirty minutes.

Foxx makes a growling sound against my lips, but he doesn’t pull away. If anything, he reacts fast, his hands coming up to grip my hips, steadying us.

Fuck, he feels good.

His hands are solid, firm, fingers digging into my sides with just the right amount of pressure. And his mouth—fuuuuck, his mouth—his beard skims along my chin, my lips, my cheek, again and again, until I’m leaning in harder, chasing pressure because I need it to breathe.

I slide my hands up his chest, over the smooth fabric of his jacket, until they settle at the nape of his neck. Teasing, I bite at his bottom lip, but the second I do, everything flips. Foxx moves. And he moves me. One second, I have him against the wall, and the next, he spins us, and my back’s against the rough brick, his body flush against mine. The shift is so quick, it knocks the air out of me for a second. His hands frame my waist at this new angle, thumbs pressing into my sides, keeping me pinned in place. Fuck yes. I knew he had another side to him.

I let out a breathless laugh, tilting my head back against the brick. “Oh, we’re doing this now?”

His gaze flickers over me, dark and unreadable, and when he finally speaks, his voice is edged with something that has a tingle working its way through my body. “You’ve got a little bratty side, don’t you?”

A slow grin spreads across my lips at his attitude. The idea that I could unravel him is something my ego likes—a lot. “Yeah, and I want you to play with me.” As I lean closer, Foxx exhales sharply through his nose, and I swear I feel his grip tighten.

I reach for him again as a groan builds in his throat, dragging him closer, feeling the way his body fits against mine, heat against heat. Muscle against muscle. His thigh slots between mine, firm and unyielding, and when I shift slightly, pressing down just enough for friction, his length nudges mine through our jeans.

His breath hitches. But I don’t get time to gloat because he kisses me again, harder this time, less hesitation, more teeth, moreneedand his hands move to my ass to pull us even closer.

Dragging my fingers through the short hairs at the nape of his neck, I tilt my head, deepening the kiss. He meets me with every movement, and God, I need more of him. I nibble at his lip again, just to see if he’ll react. His hands shift, sliding up my waist, across my ribs, stopping just under my pecs before he catches himself, before he pulls back slightly, his breathing uneven as he wipes a hand over his mouth.

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