Chapter 10 – Natalie
The elevator ride down to the lobby is strained, since Nic absolutely insisted that we leave at the same time today. Finn and Nic take opposite sides, each leaning back against the wall of the car. I keep my place in the middle, trying not to be embarrassed that my boss and my date are glaring daggers at each other.
It had been such a nice day, after Nic’s father left anyway, then that awkward moment afterward. I blushed every time I thought about it—the moment after, not Mr. Pendergrass. The older man had made me pretty uncomfortable, but Nic handled it as deftly as he handles everything. It’s painfully attractive, seeing his competence in action, and yes, I realize I’m sitting here having lusty thoughts about the man who is not my date. Not cool, Natalie.
But Nic had been so obviously upset about it after. For a moment, I thought he… well, it doesn’t matter what I thought at that moment. Either way, I’m pretty sure he heard Finn and me talking about our dinner plans.
The thought makes me hotter, and I don’t know what on earth to think about that.
Nobody speaks on the ride down, but I get the distinct impression Nic and Finn are having their own wordless conversation. The lobby is a relief, and Finn’s hand on the small of my back as we walk to the door is a welcome surprise. It’s the first time he’s touched me since that sweet-sexy kiss on the cheek after coffee two days ago. Not that I’m counting.
“Have a good night, boss,” calls Finn with a wave. Nic’s face is set in stone.
“See you both tomorrow,” he says, walking away before I can say anything at all. I turn to Finn. His eyes are warm, a clear contrast to the brisk air around us. It’s already nearly dark.
“Ready for dinner?”
“I could eat,” I say. He doesn’t hide his anticipation, and that low heat that’s been simmering since we met kicks up a notch. “I should probably meet you there, though. My car’s here in the lot.”
“We can ride together if you like. Nic drove us in this morning.”
“Perfect,” I say. “I’ll drive.”
Heat, anticipation, attraction, or some combination of all three flickers in his eyes. “Lead the way.”
He holdsmy hand in the car. That sweet, simple touch undoes me, and the night has barely started. It’s been so long since I’ve been touched in any way, much less with something like tenderness or affection. Those little gestures had stopped well before Jeff ended our relationship.
I’m almost sorry the restaurant is so close by, at least, until we walk inside.
“Oh, Finn.”
“What’s the matter?” His murmur is close to my ear, close enough to make me shiver.
“This place is lovely, but I really should have gone home to change first.”
Finn makes a quiet sound of protest, shaking his head once, firmly.
“You look gorgeous,” he says, still close enough I can feel his breath on my skin. “Any man alive would be lucky to have you.”
“To have me?” I’m a glutton for praise. Sue me. He looks at me with such heat, I think we may get ourselves escorted out of the building before we have a chance to eat.
A moment later, our table is ready, and I’m sitting in warm candlelight, enjoying the way it flickers in his incredible blue eyes. He looks like a pirate in this light, or some fierce highland warrior, somehow transported to me through time and sheer force of will.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks, leaning forward.
“I was wondering whether you own a kilt.”
Finn blinks and laughs. “It’s the name, isn’t it?”
I smile, not bothering to correct him. “Is that a yes?”
“I hate to disappoint, but no.”
“Ah. No formal family plaid for special occasions?” A little of the humor in his eyes dies, and I could kick myself. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
He shakes his head. “No need to apologize. I wish my family had passed down something like that. I’d have liked to have a piece of them.”
I fidget with the hem of the thick white tablecloth, unsure how to salvage this. The server arrives just in time to save me from myself, and we order our meal.
“How is it that you came to work for Nic, anyway? Obviously, I know how you two know each other.”
Finn grins. “He knocked on my door the other night and asked if I’d ever been a bodyguard.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“I suppose that makes sense,” I say.
“Oh, really?”
I glance down at the broad expanse of his chest, which is testing the limits of his button-down shirt. I don’t know much about men’s fashion, but I’m pretty sure the effect of his suit has more to do with his physique than any tailor could bring to the table.
He’s watching me study his body. I flush, more stirred than I ought to be, given we’re sitting in a public restaurant.
“Do I look like a bodyguard to you?”
I can feel the warmth in my cheeks glowing.
“I could see it.”
The warmth skitters down my arms, making me shiver. I’m out of practice with flirting, with the sexy push and pull of it.
Jeff wasn’t big on flirting. At least, not with me. I tried, sometimes. He wasn’t into it. Or maybe he just wasn’t very good at it because he never once made me feel like this.
Finn’s eyes stray to the drape of my silk blouse. It’s one of my favorite purchases from my shopping excursion with Moira. The silk is cool and smooth and the fabric on my skin feels like a caress. The deep berry color complements my hair and complexion, Moira said.
Finn’s eyes come back to mine.
“Nic seems like a good guy,” says Finn.
Nic.The reminder of my job, of our boss, ought to cool me off some. But all I can think about is how I had them both alone this morning, after Nic’s father left, and that quiet sense of knowing deep in my bones something is about to happen.
Nic on my left, Finn on my right.
I take a sip of wine, buying just a moment to compose myself.
“He’s the best,” I say. “Best boss I’ve ever had.”
“Do you like your job?”
Do I? It’s a good question, and his interest seems genuine, as though he’s asking for something more than the superficial report card you’d give an acquaintance to make polite conversation. So, I take my time answering.
“I think what I like is working for Nic, honestly. The job is… it is what it is. It’s data entry, and answering phones, and managing files, and making copies. The clients are sometimes interesting, but mostly boring, not like on TV shows at all.” That makes him laugh. “Nic makes it worth the tedium, if that makes sense. He’s a good man.”
“I think you’re right about that, after seeing him this morning.”
I clear my throat. “I don’t like gossip.”
Finn frowns, shaking his head. “I’m not talking about his father. Nic warned me to be good to you.”
“He what?”
“He said I had better treat you with the respect you deserve,” says Finn with a lopsided smile. “The threat of bodily harm may have been implied.”
“Nic would never?—”
“Oh, I think he would.”
I press my lips together. I don’t know what to say to that.
“I promised him I’d be nothing but respectful,” continues Finn, a wicked gleam in his eyes now. “Unless you requested otherwise.”
A tremor of arousal shakes the breath out of me, and his eyes stay on mine, making sure I get the message. At that moment, the food arrives, and Finn finally looks away to thank the server. The meal is delicious, despite my sudden nervousness. I haven’t been with a man in ages, haven’t even wanted to be until recently, if I’m honest. Jeff made sure of that. But the way Finn looks at me, the way he makes me feel, I can’t think of anything else.
The conversation takes a lighter turn as we eat. I take my time, enjoying the anticipation.
The fresh air feels good on my overheated skin as we leave the restaurant. Finn takes my hand again—such a thrill, that small touch—and walks me to my car.
“So.” I’m nervous. I can’t help it.
“Natalie.”
I stop scanning the street and turn to face Finn. He brings our joined hands up, tracing them gently along my cheek before clasping my hand to his chest, stepping closer. Our breath mingles in the cold air.
I can’t wait anymore. I tip up on my toes and use his grip to pull his mouth down to mine. The first touch is soft and sweet, and through my own swirling thoughts or the sheer will of the man under my hands, it lasts and lasts and lasts, in full movie magic, with crescendos and strings and fireworks and everything.
Finn pulls back a fraction of an inch. My eyes feel drugged and heavy as I force them open to look.
“Natalie,” he says again, but there’s urgency, almost pain in it this time. Need.
“Take me home, Finn.”
I lethim drive my car. Fifteen minutes feels like forever with Finn’s hand on my leg, stroking tiny patterns over the fabric of my skirt. Every now and then he runs a fingertip under the hem, tracing the stockings that separate our skin as though he’s trying to memorize the feel of them. By the time we pull into the parking lot, I’m twisting my hands in my lap to keep from grabbing him.
The second he shuts off the car, we’re at each other, no slow, sweet romance this time. Finn plunders, holding me as close as he can over the console that separates us. I want to climb over it, get closer, get in his lap.
“Stupid compact cars,” I mutter. His lips curve against mine. He pulls back a fraction, dragging my lip between his teeth, making me shiver in a way that has nothing to do with the cold outside.
“I’m just upstairs,” he says.
“I know.”
That puts a pause between us and I know he’s remembering, just as I am, that Nic lives next door.
“There’s no way he’s here,” I say. “It’s Friday evening, I’m sure he’s gone.” I have absolutely no way of knowing if that is true. I know about Nic’s volunteering schedule because I help keep his agenda at work, but I otherwise know very little about how he spends his time. It’s a reasonable guess, though: Friday evening, dinner time. Surely, the man dated.
That thought makes me feel weird, so I lock it out and focus on getting up the steps to their apartment building despite my weak knees.
Finn pauses at his front door and momentum has me pressing up against his back. He drops his forehead to the door with a groan.
“I haven’t made out in a car like that in years,” he says, his voice rough and low. “You drive me crazy.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
He turns, dropping his keys on the ground with a clink, gripping my waist, and spinning us both to press my back to his door. It’s fully dark out here, nobody in sight. My hands slide over his broad shoulders, relishing the thick muscles, digging in the way I’ve spent the last several days fantasizing about.
The man is built. Not a gym monster, but big and broad and thick enough that I feel positively dainty by comparison. I’ve never felt dainty before in my life.
He kisses me again, hands roaming like he’s trying to make a map of me, tracing every seam on my clothes he can find.
“I thought about doing this every minute of the last two days.” His murmur is low, close to my ear, as he licks a line of kisses down my neck. “You’re trembling so hard. Does that surprise you?”
I must make some kind of noise in response because his hands tighten, and he pulls me closer, that thick ridge of flesh between his legs pressing into my hip. God knows I’ve been thinking about it, too. He keeps going, his big hands sweeping over me as though he can’t get enough. I hold on for dear life. More.
“I was sure you knew what I was thinking. Every time I looked at you, all prim and poised and perfect, sitting at your desk. All I wanted to do was?—”
My skirt pulls taut, sliding up, as he cups a hand behind my knee, lifting my leg and angling his hips just so to rock up against where I want him most. The need bubbles up, and I cry out.
“God, we need to get inside.” His hips pulse again and again. I’m shaking from the inside out, unable to stop the noises coming out of my throat. Nothing like words, but anybody who hears them is going to know exactly what’s going on.
If he keeps this up?—
Finn hitches my leg higher, threading a hand into my hair, pressing me into his door.
“Can’t stop,” he whispers. “Can’t stop. God.”
A door opens nearby, too close.
Caught.
Everything freezes. The noises, the blood pounding in my ears. Even the air around us.
Finn straightens up, inch by inch. Slowly, he releases my leg, smoothing my skirt down from where it had ridden up over the top of my stockings. He moves a small, respectful step back, taking my hand in his.
I refuse to open my eyes, realizing what’s about to happen. I can’t look. I can’t. If I open my eyes, I’m going to die.
“Hello, Nic,” says Finn.