her clit and ran his tongue downward, allowing it to slip inside the slightest bit on the return journey.
“I can’t believe this.” Her voice was sex-rough, a tortured whisper.
He raised his head, her essence on his tongue. “Shall I stop?”
“Oh, god no. It’s just, this isn’t who I am. Is it?” She ran her fingers over her face, through her hair. “I barely know you.”
“I feel like I’ve always known you. And yet—”
“I know. I know.” Her breathing was rapid, hasty. “It’s the same for me. But still—”
Wracked by confusion, still tasting her, Finn came to a decision that his throbbing member protested against. The Asazi part of his brain ceased to exist. It was his lust and his emotions that ruled now. And then suddenly, something defeated the Asazi part that wasn’t working and even defeated the lust that threatened to overtake him. He shifted away, put his hands on her knees, closed her legs, helped her off the counter.
Asazi curses and damnation! This was hard, walking away from her, from her scent, taste, feel. He battled to control his lust.
A gentle kiss on his mind, he placed his lips on hers. Her mouth parted, his tongue acted on its own volition, entering, exploring, reaching, doing all the things it wanted to do below.
He cupped her breast, his thumb twirling the pearlized hardened button, rolling it between his thumb and finger, amazed at the instant response. Her breast swelled within his palm. Her chest rising and falling at a rapid rate.
He took a half step back, retrieved her sheet and reluctantly wrapped it around her. “You go get dressed, I’ll clean the kitchen up, and we’ll go to breakfast. My treat. What else do you have to do? You have two days off. May as well enjoy one of them. Who knows, I may be able to help you solve a problem or two.”
Her laugh was wry, but she stood and headed down the hall, sheet bunched in her fist, covering all of the parts he’d love to see in greater detail—explore, taste, savor.
Chapter 23
Marissa
What was wrong with her? Marissa closed the door to her bedroom, leaned against it, knees weak. She could taste her flavor on his mouth. She licked her lips, the desire to be with him refusing to subside.
She didn’t need to be going to breakfast with him. She needed to be—
Needed to be what? It wasn’t like she could do what she normally did. Her life trajectory had suddenly tangented into a whole new direction. Yeah, a direction that sucks. No job, no nothing. Her father would be very disappointed in her, that she was losing Two West Two .
As if you didn’t want to leave it for the last few years. As if you weren’t tired of the restaurant business. Okay, that was true. She was tired of it. She wanted to quit and sell it a few years ago. And when she told Dad about it, he said, ‘Sell it. Get out of there. Go be happy.’
Her response to her father— she felt an obligation to the community to keep it around. That it was the oldest restaurant in the area, and she couldn’t just sell it, what if the new owners didn’t care as much.
And her father had replied, ‘That’s not your problem. Your customers are busy making themselves happy. You should do the same.”
Yet some screwed up sense of obligation kept her there. For years. She wadded and threw the sheet on the bed, disgusted with herself. But there was this part of her, a secret part, which wanted to rejoice. She now could walk away from Two West Two , and not feel guilty. She did her best, and circumstances outside of her control had put an end to this chapter of her life, an end to Two West Two. An end to obligation.
Responsible, duty-bound Marissa could relax, and look into pursuing the things in life she’d wanted, but still she felt like she was being bad. What the hell is wrong with me?
Her stomach rumbled. Okay, okay, I get the hint. Grabbing a pair of jeans and a top, she slipped into them. A puff of powder on her face, a touch of lip
“I can’t believe this.” Her voice was sex-rough, a tortured whisper.
He raised his head, her essence on his tongue. “Shall I stop?”
“Oh, god no. It’s just, this isn’t who I am. Is it?” She ran her fingers over her face, through her hair. “I barely know you.”
“I feel like I’ve always known you. And yet—”
“I know. I know.” Her breathing was rapid, hasty. “It’s the same for me. But still—”
Wracked by confusion, still tasting her, Finn came to a decision that his throbbing member protested against. The Asazi part of his brain ceased to exist. It was his lust and his emotions that ruled now. And then suddenly, something defeated the Asazi part that wasn’t working and even defeated the lust that threatened to overtake him. He shifted away, put his hands on her knees, closed her legs, helped her off the counter.
Asazi curses and damnation! This was hard, walking away from her, from her scent, taste, feel. He battled to control his lust.
A gentle kiss on his mind, he placed his lips on hers. Her mouth parted, his tongue acted on its own volition, entering, exploring, reaching, doing all the things it wanted to do below.
He cupped her breast, his thumb twirling the pearlized hardened button, rolling it between his thumb and finger, amazed at the instant response. Her breast swelled within his palm. Her chest rising and falling at a rapid rate.
He took a half step back, retrieved her sheet and reluctantly wrapped it around her. “You go get dressed, I’ll clean the kitchen up, and we’ll go to breakfast. My treat. What else do you have to do? You have two days off. May as well enjoy one of them. Who knows, I may be able to help you solve a problem or two.”
Her laugh was wry, but she stood and headed down the hall, sheet bunched in her fist, covering all of the parts he’d love to see in greater detail—explore, taste, savor.
Chapter 23
Marissa
What was wrong with her? Marissa closed the door to her bedroom, leaned against it, knees weak. She could taste her flavor on his mouth. She licked her lips, the desire to be with him refusing to subside.
She didn’t need to be going to breakfast with him. She needed to be—
Needed to be what? It wasn’t like she could do what she normally did. Her life trajectory had suddenly tangented into a whole new direction. Yeah, a direction that sucks. No job, no nothing. Her father would be very disappointed in her, that she was losing Two West Two .
As if you didn’t want to leave it for the last few years. As if you weren’t tired of the restaurant business. Okay, that was true. She was tired of it. She wanted to quit and sell it a few years ago. And when she told Dad about it, he said, ‘Sell it. Get out of there. Go be happy.’
Her response to her father— she felt an obligation to the community to keep it around. That it was the oldest restaurant in the area, and she couldn’t just sell it, what if the new owners didn’t care as much.
And her father had replied, ‘That’s not your problem. Your customers are busy making themselves happy. You should do the same.”
Yet some screwed up sense of obligation kept her there. For years. She wadded and threw the sheet on the bed, disgusted with herself. But there was this part of her, a secret part, which wanted to rejoice. She now could walk away from Two West Two , and not feel guilty. She did her best, and circumstances outside of her control had put an end to this chapter of her life, an end to Two West Two. An end to obligation.
Responsible, duty-bound Marissa could relax, and look into pursuing the things in life she’d wanted, but still she felt like she was being bad. What the hell is wrong with me?
Her stomach rumbled. Okay, okay, I get the hint. Grabbing a pair of jeans and a top, she slipped into them. A puff of powder on her face, a touch of lip
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