One Night at Finn's (Finn's Pub Romance 1)

“Shut up.” She nudges me with her elbow. “You helped him in there, by the way. He wasn’t thinking about the fact that he was an uncle. Now he is.”

“Of course he wasn’t. It sounds to me like change has given him all stick and no carrot.” I lean my head on her shoulder playfully to lighten the mood. “He needs you to be his carrot, Fiona.”

She pushes me away with a soft laugh. “I’ll give you a stick right in the eye if you don’t stop.”

“It’s too soon for eye poking jokes.” She looks up at my black eye, so distressed that I wrap an arm around her. “I’m kidding. I’m sure I’ll be able to see out of it again eventually. As long as you take my advice.” She stares at me blankly until I shrug. “What? You know I’m right about the carrot.”

“How about this? You deal with the May/December thing you’ve got going on with your Marine, and I’ll find a way to deal with Wyatt’s carrot in my own time.” She steps back, gathers up two bowls and walks back to the table before I can respond.

Please. May/December thing? Carter isn’t eighty for God’s sake. And there isn’t a thing to deal with yet. It’s just dinner and a sleepover. For the second night in a row. With a guy I had a sex dream about last night. A guy who keeps touching me and feeding me and apparently defiles me with his eyeballs when I’m not looking.

Oh hell, there is a thing. There’s a big, giant thing and I have no idea how to deal with it.

“It looks like you lost your helper. Mind if I step in?”

The spoons in my hand clatter to the counter. Carter is too damn stealthy for my peace of mind. “I’m good.”

“Are you sure?”

I glance at him over my shoulder and hum thoughtfully. “I think so. Unless you want to take a bite of my ice cream and admit it’s better than yours and I’m always right about everything.”

“Everything? You sound pretty confident I’ll like it.” He chuckles and moves closer until he’s standing right beside me. “I guess you better let me have a taste so I can judge for myself.”

I guess you better let me have some privacy so I can rub one out and be near you without limping.

His eyes stare pointedly at the spoon that’s back in my hand. He wants me to feed it to him? Is he trying to torture me?

Maybe I’m into that, because instead of handing it over or teasing him about being too old to feed himself, I wordlessly dip it into the container and then up to his lips.

What the hell are you doing, Green?

I’m blaming his mouth for my bad judgment. His salt and pepper beard usually distracts me from it, but this close I can see how generous his lower lip is. For all his sharp, masculine features, the man has ridiculously feminine eyelashes and a mouth that begs to be kissed.

The smile he makes before the spoon disappears in his mouth is genuine and irresistible. And when he swallows and groans out loud? If he does it again I might come in my pants.

“Damn, you might be right, JD. That’s delicious.”

“Yeah?” I murmur, unable to look away as he licks a trace of it off his now shimmering lips.

“Oh yeah.”

I’m gripping the spoon so tightly I’m losing feeling in my fingers. Don’t touch him. Do. Not. Touch. Him. “Good enough to share your grandmother’s secrets with me?”

“I thought I had to admit you were right about everything.” I can feel his breath on my temple. My cheek. “Are we changing the rules now? And if we are, is that really what you want instead?”

“What else?”

He’s so close now his lips are almost brushing mine. “Maybe if we put our heads together we could think of something we’d both enjoy.”

This is what Fiona was talking about. The sex vibe. As in my body is vibrating with the need to have raunchy, gritty sex with Carter Willis.

“I’m not sure we’d, uh, enjoy the same things.”

“You might be surprised.”

I bite back a gasp when the front of his jeans brush against mine, telling me what I most wanted to know. He’s hard. Huge and hard and close enough for me to grab hold of.

He’s as turned on as I am. And he’s definitely interested.

“You’re really going the extra mile to keep that recipe to yourself,” I joke weakly, not sure what to do with this erection information.

“And you’re tempting me to give it to you. But I want something in return.”

Yes, give it to me. Take whatever you want. I breathe out on a soft moan, my hips tilting forward without my permission until I feel it again. There. Jesus, it’s a beast. There’s a fucking steel Leviathan in his pants and I need to see it. Try to wrap my fingers around it. My mouth.