"And you have to leave right now?" I asked.
"In a little bit. I have something I need to do first," he added.
"What is..." I started, straightening as he took a couple steps closer.
"This," he said a second before his lips crashed down on mine. One of his hands went behind my head, protecting it as he slammed me back against the wall.
When my mouth opened on a surprised gasp, his tongue moved inside to claim mine even as his other hand slid down the curve of my hip, moved inward, but paused as he pulled back slightly, seeming to seek approval.
"Yes, you most definitely need to do that," I agreed, yanking his head back to me, sealing my lips over his even as they curved into a small smile as his fingertips traced the waistband of my shorts.
Without more warning than that, they slipped into my shorts and underwear, moved right between my thighs, traced my slick cleft for a second before his thumb found my clit, moving over it in excruciatingly slow circles as my hips writhed against his touch.
"Finn, please," I whimpered, lips breaking from his, forehead pressing into his shoulder as the desire continued to grow within me, a clawing, painful need for release.
On a growl that was entirely too sexy, Finn suddenly pulled out of my grasp, going down on his knees in front of me as his free hand yanked down my shorts and panties.
Before I could even suck in a breath, his face was between my thighs, his tongue replacing his thumb on my clit before he thrust two fingers inside me.
I nearly came right then. A loud, choked moan escaped me as my hand slapped down on the back of his head, holding him to me as his tongue started to work my clit, and his fingers thrust lazily in and out of me for a long moment before they did little twisting motions that were making it hard to even draw in a breath as he drove me closer and closer to the edge.
It wasn't a long wait, though.
Because not a moment or two later, his fingers turned completely inside me, stroking against my top wall as his lips closed around my clit, sucking.
I swear, I saw white.
Angels sang and shit.
It was, you know, a big, big O.
After a long time of itty bitty ones.
By the time I was able to suck in a greedy breath again, my legs were shaking, struggling to hold me up.
One of Finn's hands had moved, pinning my hip to the wall like he knew of my struggle, but he hadn't moved much at all. He was still kneeling with his head resting on my thigh, taking slow, deep breaths. Like he felt just as affected as I was. Even though that made no sense, since he hadn't gotten any sort of relief himself.
"That," he said, voice rough. Clearing his throat, he moved to stand. "That," he repeated. "I needed to do that," he said, eyes soft as his hand left my hip, raising to stroke his thumb down my jaw and chin before he moved away from me. "Lock up behind me," he demanded. "And if you hear anything else weird tonight, call the cops before you go investigating with your baton," he told me, giving me a small smile.
"I, ah, okay," I said, mind still reeling from the orgasm. I was finding it hard to process his words, let alone the fact that he was just going to leave—for days—after an orgasm like that.
"I'll be back in town in a couple days," he said, giving me a nod, then making his way toward the door, and walking out. While I leaned there, letting the wall help hold me up. "Poppy, lock the door," Finn demanded, snapping me out of my stupor, making me rush across the foyer to slide and turn the locks.
And then I went ahead and let myself be weak enough to watch him walk down the path, get into his truck, and drive off.
Only then did I double-check the rest of my locks and windows, grab my phone, baton, and a cast iron skillet for good measure, and took myself back up to my bedroom.
I thought I would be jumping at the house sounds, paranoid about someone possibly trying to break in now that I was alone.
But no.
Instead, all I could do was think about Finn.
About kissing on the couch.
At the way he jumped to protect me.
About him on his knees in the foyer.
About how agonizingly long a few days was going to be.
About what might happen between us when he got back.
Chapter Seven
Finn
"Sorry about the short notice," Quin said as I walked into the office with Poppy's taste still on my tongue.
Her taste.
Fuck.
It had been so long, I wasn't sure if women always tasted that good, or if it was exclusive to Poppy.