Page 206 of Fury

“You’re a man unafraid of fig and vanilla. I think I like you.”

“Hmm.” His eyes closed, his lips curling at the edges. His breathing deepened, his muscles relaxing underneath me.

Joshua slept.

I lay down once more, my body melding against his warm one. A heavy arm slid up my side.

I fell asleep, too.

Iwoke up early as usual,but this time Finger was in my bed, and my lungs crushed together at the sight of him, at the feel of his massive body next to mine. His side of the sheet was twisted in between his long, powerful legs. His hair unfettered over my pillows. Those pronounced shoulder and upper arm muscles of his glaring at me.

He was beautiful. Scarred, battle weary, yet always battle ready. The biblical warrior.

I extracted myself from him and quietly got out of bed.

Instead of heading to Craig’s early morning power cardio class as I did on an almost daily basis, I got dressed in a pair of yoga pants and a loose fitting top and headed for my living room to do a few yoga stretches. Otherwise both my brain and body would be cranky, and I didn’t want to be cranky, especially with Finger in my house. I needed to be clearheaded and composed.

Good luck.

His big leather jacket with his patches was flung on the top of my sofa. I picked it up. The heavy weight was familiar, the smell of that worn leather and faded metal a perfume of my past. I hung the jacket on the back of a dining chair.

When I was done stretching, I put away my mat, and made a big pot of coffee and prepared two small bowls with my granola, sunflower seeds, cinnamon, blueberries, grated apple, and a drizzle of honey. I had no idea if he’d like it or make a face and call it rabbit food, but what the hell. Should I make him a huge eggs, bacon, and pancakes type of he-man breakfast? Maybe he didn’t eat breakfast at all?Gah.

Movement from the bathroom made me blink. I took in a breath. “Will you relax?” I whispered to myself. Why did I feel like a girl on a first date with her longtime crush? I rolled my eyes at myself.

I waited for the shuffling of clothing, for footsteps. But there were only short quick breaths echoing down the hallway. I took my coffee mug in hand and made my way toward the sounds.

I stopped dead in my tracks.

Finger lifted himself up at the pull bar that was stretched across a doorway. He was focused on an imaginary point in the hallway, dipping down and swiftly pulling himself up in a smooth arc motion. His every muscle worked, body taut, skin flushed. Flex, pull. Flex, pull.

And he was naked.

Flex. Pull.

And he was magnificent.

And I’d had him next to me in my bed all night long. I took a sip of coffee and burned my tongue.

His feet settled on the floor, his hands releasing the bar, his dark eyes hanging on mine. “Morning.” He rubbed a hand over his sweaty chest, his morning wood, mighty wooden.

“Uh huh.” I swallowed down more blazing coffee.

He smirked. “You use the bar?”

“Sometimes.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Like twice a year. Maybe.”

The smirk transformed into a full grin. “What do you have it for then?”

“Beck put it up. He uses it whenever he comes for a visit.”

“Right.” His face tensed for a second. “I haven’t used a bar in a while. It’s difficult for me to get a good grip with my hands.”

“Oh, you were doing just fine.”

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