23. Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Three
Kathleen spent the rest of the morning working with Finn.
It started with her questioning Finn on every location, every name, and every company he could think of related to Special Operations Covert Command. She had Finn trawling through online photographs to put names to faces—he knew only one—the name of his Handler, Michael Milford, and even that took coaxing for Finn to produce.
Seated on the bed, Finn had the laptop balanced on his thighs. The pen Kathleen had been jotting down notes with had long fallen still as she gazed at him, drinking in the line of his freshly shaven jaw and the slant of his brow as he concentrated.
Looking at him now, seeing him so at ease, she was certain it wasn’t fear that made Finn hold back, silencing his tongue and stilling his body so often. This was more than training, more than reflexive habit. Mental conditioning, Gibson had said—and she believed it. There were ticks in Finn’s behavior, things that seemed beyond his control and choice.
Kathleen knew in her bones he didn’t want to hurt her—and yet when he had broken free of that first restraint on the bed and turned her way, there had been nothing of Finn Kingsley in his gaze. It was the Hound. And the Hound was a killer.
Even the memory of it made her want to shudder, as did the survival instinct that made her shoot. She was sure she wouldn’t, but when she felt the remote, deadly stare of the Hound land on her, she knew she had no choice. She didn’t think she started breathing until he saw her, and she saw him—Finn—looking out from those troubled blue eyes of his.
It was true when Kathleen said she was afraid for him. That didn’t mean she wasn’t also terrified of the idea of a black ops, government-backed—if not sanctioned—agency with brainwashed, deadly soldiers under their control. It was the stuff of nightmares. And no matter what, it was clear that Wilson was tied into all of this.
Finn’s mouth ticked, lips twitching.
Kathleen stared at him, and he knew it. She braced herself for teasing, for the weakness of wanting to think about him rather than the task at hand, but no such words came.
Instead, Finn reached out, his hand touching her knee even as he kept his gaze on his hand. “I’m sorry about your partner. I didn’t like the way he looked at you. The way I felt when he looked at you. I wanted to hurt him.” He paused. “A not small part of me still wants to.”
The admission caught her by surprise, especially since Finn rarely showed his emotions openly. “Are you jealous?”
Finn was silent, a frown touching his lips as his gaze shifted into the middle distance. She had seen him do this before, testing his awareness of the emotion, fitting it to what he knew. He was putting a name to something he’d barely understood before.
It made her heart ache and redoubled the heat of anger she felt toward Command. She worked to keep both from her voice. “It’s okay to feel. It’s normal.”
His jaw worked. His instinct was to refute the words. What had they told him—brainwashed him to believe—that he doubted such a simple thing? It only increased her resolve to deal with this group—and this Handler of his.
When Finn finally nodded, Kathleen smiled, reaching out to rest her hand on his. He reacted on instinct, turning his palm up, his fingers lacing with hers. He always desired to touch her or be touched, and she gladly indulged him.
“He’s my work partner,” Kathleen said. “We’ve been together… in that way… before, but not for a while. And not anything ever as serious as… as I felt, feel, with you.”
Fuck it. Emotions were hard. She couldn’t blame him for struggling with them—to admit them—when doing so herself felt like she was laying her heart bare.
That feeling of being vulnerable felt so raw and present that she was compelled to add, “For the record, I protect others. I don’t need protection.”
Kathleen had said variations of this to others over the years. Some believed her, most didn’t. With Finn, it felt different. She didn’t need his protection—but having it, having him here—didn’t tense her up in the way it had with anyone else.
Finn wasn’t looking at her directly, but she sensed she had his absolute attention.
“It’s okay to feel jealous,” he said slowly. “Maybe it’s okay to let someone else protect you, too.”
Was he talking about himself or her? Kathleen wasn’t sure. That he’d so skillfully turned her words against her was impressive, not to mention uncomfortable. What did it say that a mentally conditioned super soldier could cut to the heart of things so quickly and cleanly? To her heart?
“I want to stay here,” Finn continued, his gaze set somewhere across the room. “With you. More than anything. But I don’t get to choose. I belong to Command.”
The certainty with which he delivered those words twisted her gut with both nausea and burning anger. “No, Finn, you don’t. You don’t belong to anyone. You make your own choices. You make your own destiny. That’s how it should be.”
The way that Finn looked at her so intently in the wake of her impassioned words should have been unsettling, but it wasn’t. It frustrated Kathleen that she had to explain what should have been common knowledge.
“Maybe I belong to you,” Finn said quietly.
The words sent a shiver through her. “Finn…”
“I know. I don’t belong to anyone,” he repeated with an exacting intonation. “But maybe I want to belong to you.”
The words were so powerful, so sincere that they stole her breath. Kathleen didn’t know what to say to that. She didn’t think he knew what he was saying or implying. Her instinct to play it off and keep things casual kicked in: “I think you belong more to the cat than me.”
Finn smiled. “Maybe he’s become my cat,” he said, the warmth in his smile deepening as he turned his intense gaze her way. “But you’ll always be my kitten.”
Something between fluttering joy and raw panic took hold of her. Kathleen wasn’t someone who did pet names. And yet, the steady way he gazed at her felt surprisingly grounding.
Her heart pounded wildly as she said, “If I’m your kitten, what does that make you?”
Finn tilted his head. “Your idiot. Your hardhead.”
“No, that’s awful.”
“Maybe I’m just yours.”
It was so close to what he said before that the silence that followed felt weighted.
“Maybe.” She squeezed his fingers in hers.
Maybe wasn’t yes, but the way he reacted—the immediate heating in his gaze and the brightening of his smile—felt like it was.
Finn leaned closer, his lips hovering inches from hers. It wasn’t his words so much as the naked desire in his eyes that sent an immediate shiver of arousal through her and right down between her legs.
Kathleen met his surge toward her halfway. Heat rolled over her; the low burn of desire from the morning had immediately guttered back into a full roar as they kissed.
“Finn,” Kathleen uttered, trying hard to focus. This was important. “Remember, you can tell me to stop at any time. If you can’t say it, you can touch my should-ah!” Her breath rattled out sharply as she felt his lips at her neck, a bare brush of warmth and breath that deepened into a pressure as he sucked.
So much for her speech. Overwhelmed and distracted, Kathleen couldn’t remember what she had been saying.
Finn stopped when she made that noise, looking at her with a steady gaze. That desire in his blue eyes hadn’t faded at all, but he was waiting with a patience that made her heart ache.
“No, that’s good. That’s… very good.” Kathleen swallowed. “You can touch me anywhere you like. Explore any part of me you want. If I don’t like it, I’ll tell you, and you do the same for me.”
“Anywhere?” His voice was rough, full of need.
Kathleen’s breathless answer was barely audible, “Yes.”
The smile he gave her was both beautiful and wolfishly hungry. It was definitely the latter that made her heart pound with sharp anticipation.
Finn’s hand tightened in Kathleen’s hair again, tugging. It forced her head back, baring her neck to him, just shy of painful. It felt vulnerable and terrifying. She had half a second of panic, of trying to find the right words, before his lips settled on her neck just below her ear. A delicious shiver coursed through her and went all the way to her core, stirring an ache of growing anticipation between her legs. His lips explored her skin, working downward until he met the collar of her shirt.
He made a noise of consternation in the back of his throat, and his hand released its tight grip on her hair. He reached for the edge of her shirt at the collar, then hesitated, eyes flickering up to her.
Kathleen’s heart fluttered as she recognized the reason for his hesitation this time. “I don’t love this shirt.”
The grin he gave was worth it. With a simple twist of his hand, he tore the shirt, throwing the material away and leaving her bra exposed to him. Like he hadn’t paused, Finn leaned forward, pressed his lips against her collarbone, and began moving lower. Kathleen could feel his hot breath when he pressed his mouth against the material of her bra. His fingers found the edge of the silky material, tugging it down to expose her breasts. For a second, he stared, his fingers coming up to cup them, his thumb playing over the nipple of one breast before his mouth found the other.
Kathleen arched backward, a breathless sound escaping her lips. Every moment of his exploration was delicious agony. It was like he knew the notes of her body, the tune specific to her, and he was adeptly re-learning with every new touch. She wanted more. She reached back behind her, unhooking her bra, letting the material fall free.
He began to suck, his hot wet mouth a promise of other things, and Kathleen felt the insistent throbbing between her legs. This didn’t seem fair at all, and she shifted her weight, pressing into his groin. He was already hard, and she felt a delicious friction as she ground herself against him.
Finn groaned. The sound rumbled out of his chest and fluttered against her nipple as he pulled his mouth free. His hands reached forward under her thighs, and he stood so fast she had to wrap her hands around his neck for fear of falling.
Kathleen shouldn’t have worried. There wasn’t an ounce of strain in his posture as he lifted her. She kissed his cheek, his jaw, the side of his mouth, teasing him with a knowing smile—one that became a knowing laugh as he groaned again and paused to capture her mouth with his own, smothering her laughter altogether as he stole her breath.
She thought it a fair trade for the groan she had won from him.
Then Kathleen was falling, and she broke the kiss to yelp, hitting the bed a second later as he followed her down, grinning a too-knowing satisfaction as his weight settled on her.
Finn knew precisely what he was doing, and the emotion in his eyes left her breathless.
“Oh, yes?” Kathleen countered, hooking one leg over his, pressing her hips up into him in a slow, deliberate glide.
His eyes seemed to darken, and he leaned to capture her mouth again. He was careful with his weight, his forearm bracing on the bed next to her, afraid to hurt her. While Kathleen appreciated the thought, it was too gentle for her liking. She drew him deeper into the kiss, then used her hand on the bed and the twist of her hip to flip them so she ended up on top. The surprise and smile it won from him was gratifying.
Kathleen pushed upward with just a little twinge from her shoulder. Not enough to stop her exploration. Her fingers found the bottom of his shirt and glided upward over his skin. She touched the hard planes of his abs and then his pecs before she exposed them, her eyes drinking in his form. There were scars on his skin—scars that told old stories. She longed to explore his skin and those scars with her mouth, but there were more pressing matters.
She half-pulled off his shirt, leaving it tangled just over his head and halfway down his arms. Instead of helping him, her hands were gliding over the erection tenting his pants. He was definitely harder than she had felt earlier. The half-groan, half-curse the move elicited gave her a satisfying thrill. By the time he freed himself from the tangle of his shirt, she had tugged down his pants and gripped his long, hard cock.
The way he looked at her stole her breath. There was a delirious need in the dark of his eyes paired with an almost wondrous expression. She had done that to him.
And she was just getting started.