Skye (All In Book 3)

by Liz Meldon

  The building around them had gone quiet now, with vendors in the midst of packing up, all the visitors gone for the day. Skye had volunteered to stay behind to tidy a little, which meant Finn was also tidying up. Just the two of them. Alone in this bizarre, circular room that smelled like apple juice. Just him and her—Finn and Skye, who was wearing the perfect pair of dark-wash jeans, the kind that hugged her sinfully tight little backside to the point of being a major distraction. Skye, with her thick red hair billowing around her in messy beach waves, sexier than if some stylist had tried to create it for her. Skye, whose freckles he wanted to trace with his tongue. Skye, whose hazel eyes Finn could stare into for—

  “Are you even listening to me?”

  “What?” Finn snapped out of his daydreaming and realized he had just been standing there, staring at Skye and her adorable little blush—holding an obscene number of stacked tiny neon chairs in each hand. “Sorry. I was just a bit distracted.”

  Her eyebrows furrowed slightly, a pile of squishy multicolored mats hugged tight to her delightfully toned frame. Beneath those jeans and that purple chiffon blouse was a masterpiece. Finn blinked hard, not wanting to lose himself again, and nodded toward the nearly invisible doorway at the back of the room.

  “I take it all of these go in there?”

  “Apparently they’re worried about people stealing them,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Thank you… for staying to help. And for wrangling the kids. And for speaking to that woman’s supervisor.” She paused, drawing a soft breath. “Thank you for being here.”

  Not wanting her to notice that her thanks was like catnip to him, Finn shrugged. “It’s all just a happy coincidence, I promise.”

  “Well, you didn’t have to stay, but you did. So. Thank you.”

  “Anytime, Skye.”

  They studied one another in a weighted silence, before she turned and marched straight for the concealed door. Finn followed at a safe distance, allowing his gaze to drop, just for a moment, to her pert arse.

  It was positively sinful how fantastic those jeans made it look.

  All he wanted to do was trail his hand over that generous curve, then slide it between her thighs, listening to the gasp that was sure to follow, and…

  No. He shook his head and hurried after her. Carnal desires, no matter how strong, belonged on the backburner while Finn convinced Skye neither he nor Cole—collectively—were a threat to her heart.

  But then again, he was only a man. A living, breathing, human man. It would take the resolve of a god not to succumb to the wiles of Skye Summers.

  Apparently, all that time apart had made him even more susceptible to distraction around her than ever. Not good. Skye reduced him to nothing more than a horny teen who had never been alone with a woman before. Not good at all. Focus, you prat. Remember the bigger picture.

  He followed her through the doorway to the storage room, but came to a sudden stop at the sight of the nightmare inside.

  “Good lord.”

  Everything was… everywhere. The room was quite expansive, surprisingly so, but it appeared as though some giant, brightly colored beast had vomited everywhere. Toys. Chairs. Mats. Three-wheeled bicycles. Books. It was sheer, unadulterated chaos, even more so than the actual children had been. Not wanting to contribute to it, Finn merely set his load of plastic chairs to the side of the door, then slowly closed said door to give them a bit of privacy.

  “Yeah, those were my thoughts exactly,” Skye said as she looked around the room. “I’m not cleaning this up. I said we’d put some stuff away… That’s it.”

  “I wouldn’t touch this mess with a ten-foot pole.” Finn wrinkled his nose as he surveyed the storage room. Everyone had seemingly done the same thing: walked in, seen the mess, tossed their armful of whatever wherever, then closed the door behind them. To the day care’s credit, at least it smelled clean. The room that housed the children was another story. It wouldn’t surprise him if employees retreated in here periodically throughout their day to scream into a pillow.

  “If they really wanted our help, they should have put us museum folks in here all day,” she said, hands on her hips as she slowly turned on the spot to face him. “Can you imagine how meticulous this would be if a few archival techs got their hands on it? We were wasted on those kids.” Skye laughed, her blush rising from the dead when their eyes met.

  “Oh, I don’t know.” He risked a step toward her, then another when she didn’t flee. “I think you fared rather well out there.”

  “Because of you.”

  Another step. “Possibly.”

  With nothing more than a foot of space between them, Finn cocked his head to the side, holding her gaze for a moment before allowing his to wander freely. Her freckles really were delightful. At the sight of her swallowing hard, her head bowed slightly, Finn threw caution to the wind—and tucked a bit of sunset-red hair behind her ear.

  She looked up sharply at the contact, and Finn made no apologies for the way his fingers trailed over the shell of her ear, then ghosted down the column of her neck. If he grazed her pulse point, would he feel it racing?

  She inhaled sharply, her eyes fixed on a point over his shoulder. “Finn.”

  “Skye.”

  A flicker of something passed across her face—desire, concern, interest, perhaps a combination of the three. Although his name might have been meant to come across as a warning, Finn focused on the slight tremor, the whispery quality of her voice. It emboldened him. He had always been a fearless man, facing life and all it had to offer without batting an eye.

  Skye made him afraid—afraid to lose her for good, afraid to fuck it all up.

  But the way she said his name, half warning, half plea…

  Finn wasn’t afraid anymore.

  His hand curved around her neck before sliding down to the base of her throat. He felt her gulp, and tipped her head up with a thumb under her chin. Slowly, cautiously, her eyes lifted to his, hazel to ebony. He hadn’t come here for this. Finn had just wanted to talk to her and eventually steer the conversation toward a reunion. But here they were. Alone. Her pulse pounding beneath his fingertips, her eyes asking a thousand questions.

  Questions for which there was only one answer.

  Tightening his hold on her, Finn leaned down and captured her lips in a curious, gentle kiss. Her hand shot to his elbow, clutching it lightly, and he caught the way her eyelashes fluttered—as though she fought to keep them open. Her lips, soft and pliant and deliciously kissable, trembled beneath his, before she pushed against his chest, retreating.

  “I’m sorry,” Finn said quickly, clearing his throat and dragging his hands away. “I didn’t mean to do—”

  He was so worried that he’d taken things too fast that he missed the signs of her surrender; the way her eyes darted to his lips, the twitch in her fingers as her hand hovered between them, the barely audible breath catching in her throat. With all the speed of a cracking whip, she grabbed the untucked hem of his shirt, half yanking him back to her and half using the momentum to fling herself onto him. Their mouths met in a frenzied storm of tongue, teeth, and swollen, sensitive lips.

  Even if this wasn’t what Finn had intended to do when he and Skye first saw each other again, there was no stopping it now. They were in a free fall. The only way to stop was to crash, and Finn had no intention of letting that happen.

  Grasping at her messy red waves, he walked them both back, turning just in time to press her up against the closed door. She whimpered softly, her body arching beneath him, molding to his in a synchronicity Finn had never experienced before. A perfect fit. Two puzzle pieces slating together—if only she realized that a third piece would make them whole. It didn’t need to be one, the other, or nothing at all, because from the way she kissed him, the way her hungry hands tugged at his clothing and clumsily yanked open his belt, nothing at all wasn’t working for her either.

  He swallowed his groan when she brushed over his achingly hard co
ck, so desperate for her that all it took was a little hot and heavy petting and he was at full mast. While Finn preferred a slow, tortuous approach to lovemaking, always eager to work his lover into a panting, dripping, whimpering mess before unleashing a volcanic eruption of pleasure, he feared they might not have the time for their usual song and dance. He yearned to taste Skye again, to fuck her with his tongue, to suck at her clit until she screamed his name. He’d had fantasies of tethering her delicate wrists to his bedposts and having his way with her for hours, watching her climax over and over again until he couldn’t stand the thought of not being buried balls deep in her. Unfortunately, today might not be the day for that.

  Luckily for both of them, Finn was adaptive. If slow, agonizingly sweet lovemaking was out the window today, hard and desperate fucking would be an apt placeholder.

  Dragging himself away from their frantic kiss, he scraped his teeth along her jaw, reveling in the way she twisted and arced beneath him, her hands fumbling as they delved into his briefs. While he wanted nothing more than to truly feel what those hands could do, what torment they’d wreak on his painfully erect shaft, there wasn’t time for that either. Finn retreated slightly, his body palpably mourning the distance from hers, then ripped open Skye’s jeans, yanking the zipper down hurriedly.

  Her panting encouraged him, aroused him, demanded his speed. Never one to leave a woman wanting, Finn unceremoniously dragged those dark jeans down her lovely legs, fighting the urge to stop halfway and bury his face between her thighs. She helped once he reached the ankles, an unsteady hand resting on his shoulder as she stepped out of the tight pants, remaining there until he’d tugged her silken black panties down too.

  He hadn’t kept the last pair—a regret he’d realized only after, when awareness struck him at just how badly he had fallen for Skye in so short a time. This pair found a home in his pocket, and when he glanced up, he caught her watching with heavy lidded eyes and delectably pouty lips—and not once protesting the thievery.

  Finn grinned, slowly sliding his hand along her inner thigh as he stood. Much to his surprise—and delight—he found her wet and wanting when he cupped her sex, so much so that he couldn’t resist probing between her folds. Eyes fixed on her face, he watched her shudder under his leisurely exploration, then forced himself to keep quiet when he slipped two fingers into her unhindered. Her eyes shot open in surprise, back arching and stance widening. Unable to help himself, Finn swooped down and caught her lower lip, sucking as his fingers pumped in and out of her below.

  As if tumbling out of her stupor, Skye responded vigorously, edging up onto her tiptoes to take back the power in their kiss, her hips bucking against his hand.

  “Finn,” she whimpered, but before he could respond, a teasing limerick about patience on the tip of his tongue, she wrenched his briefs down further and nipped at his lip. Only a fool would mistake what she needed—and Finn had never fancied himself a fool.

  Your wish is my command. He said the words with his eyes, with the way he deepened the kiss, the way his slick fingers circled her little bud before he withdrew. She squirmed against him, hands scrambling for purchase along his arms before finally knotting together behind his neck. Hooking his own hands beneath her knees, he hoisted her up with ease as his mouth trailed down her neck, where he stopped and sucked again, hoping he’d leave a mark for at least a day or two. Skye cried out, her heels digging into the small of his back, urging their bodies together.

  Slow, torturous teasing be damned. He hadn’t the patience anymore—not after all this time apart. He reached between them and maneuvered his straining cock against her entrance. A quick flicker of his gaze to hers, one last chance to stop this, to turn him away. He wouldn’t hold it against her. But she tipped her head back in wild abandon, fingers twining around his hair, her unspoken yes please dancing across his skin.

  Teeth gritted, Finn pushed into her, eyes clenched shut as her delicious, wet tightness wrapped around him and wouldn’t let go.

  “Fuck me,” he hissed against her skin, sinking in until there was no room between them—until finally the distance had truly vanished. Her response, a mix between a moan and a delighted cry, echoed throughout the storage room, and Finn clamped a hand down over her mouth. If someone found them because she couldn’t control herself… Well, Finn would be rather proud, but also incredibly fucking annoyed with whoever dared open the door and force an abrupt end to their perfect reunion. She murmured something weakly against his palm, eyes fluttering closed when he swirled his hips against hers.

  He had missed the moment where he took her, the moment he always savored with a lover, but as Finn slowly thrust in and out of her, he decided there would be many opportunities in the future to make up for that. There had to be.

  With Skye in mind, he kept his thrusts short yet firm, hoping to graze her inner and outer pleasure sensors each time. From the way she tugged at his hair, the little jerks of pain blending seamlessly with the blissful tightening of his body, Finn suspected he had succeeded. Her muffled squeaks were nearly his undoing, forced out each time his cock pounded into her, and Finn distracted himself with a study of her features—the lovely red flush on her cheeks, the smattering of freckles over her nose, the length of her eyelashes.

  She really was beautiful, but it wasn’t her beauty he had missed over the last month. An added bonus, surely, but Finn had longed for her wit, for her banter, for the way she laughed at his ridiculous puns. Skye was the first woman who hadn’t tried to immediately change him, to mold him to her liking, and she was the only woman Finn hadn’t wished were just slightly different in one way or another. Strengths, flaws—he wanted to learn them all. He wanted to watch her grow, and he wanted her to keep him grounded.

  Thank goodness he had kept his hand over her mouth, because when she came with a muffled cry, her sex clenching around him so tight that he saw stars, the whole building would have been alerted to the scandal. As her fingers finally started to loosen in his hair, as the redness began to fade from her cheeks, Finn slowly removed his hand, kissed her gently, then buried his face against her neck and took her. Hard. Fast. Pistoning in and out until he found his own blessed release. He groaned her name, hands pinching her thighs as he spilled himself into her.

  He had seen stars before, but climaxing now dragged galaxies across his field of view, and he found himself sagging, totally spent, against her. Finn blinked rapidly, trying to eschew the visions, worried he might be crushing her—until Skye wrapped her arms around him in a hug and kissed his cheek ever so sweetly.

  Eyes closed, he stood there, breathing her in, with no intention of releasing her. Not until she made him.

  What on earth had she been thinking?

  Skye had worked so hard over the last month to push Finn Rai and Cole Daniels out of her mind—no easy task, given that she lived in Cole’s apartment and still had the remnants of one of Finn’s chocolate bouquets in her freezer. She might have been miserable suppressing her feelings. She might have hated not speaking to either one of them. She might have spent about five minutes in the bathroom mirror every morning giving herself a pep talk, but damn it, she was trying. Usually failing, too, but never mind that.

  And now Finn had strolled back into her life, seemingly out of nowhere, playing the dashing hero and the orgasm king simultaneously—and all her hard work went right out the window.

  If only she were stronger. If only she hadn’t walked into that storage closet. Maybe she should have made him carry everything while she supervised from a safe distance. Maybe, if she only had some fucking willpower, she would have pushed him away when he kissed her instead of flocking to him like a moth to a flame—

  “You really need to stop that,” Finn said, his voice shocking her out of her thoughts. Blushing, Skye went for her purse, rooting through the enormous thing to dig out her sunglasses.

  “What? Walking quietly, keeping my thoughts to myself?” When had they arrived at the parking lot? Had she been so lost in
her head that she hadn’t even noticed them navigate the convention center and go outside?! Good grief. After their hasty lovemafucking in the day care storage room, they had cleaned up, dressed, and snuck out of there like a couple of guilty teens. It was only then, as they strolled through the now quiet, half-lit hallways, that Skye had realized what a colossal error she had made, and she’d been chiding herself ever since.

  “The walking part is fine,” Finn told her as they neared the curb, the parking lot ahead of them only a tenth of the way full now. “It’s the keeping your thoughts to yourself part. I don’t think you realize how plainly they read on your face.”

  “Oh.” She touched her cheek, swallowing hard, then slipped her sunglasses on. “Sorry. I was just… thinking.”

  Finn sighed and slid his hands into his pockets. “Yes, that’s been established. Might I offer a penny for those thoughts?”

  “I don’t think you’d want to know,” she said. There was no point in lying to him. Skye had made her feelings about Finn and Cole clear the day they showed up at work and forced her into that conversation.

  “Skye…”

  She braced herself, expecting him to dredge everything back up. Instead, he turned and stared straight into her eyes, that near-black gaze penetrating through her aviators. “I really think you need to give yourself a break.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “W-what?”

  “I know you’ve been feeling guilty for what happened between you, Cole, and myself,” he remarked, and her stomach twisted into a painfully tight knot. Finn, however, showed not even the slightest bit of discomfort. “I want you to stop. It’s unnecessary.”