All the Way (Romancing Manhattan 1)
“Oh my God.”
“Come right now.”
And she does, coming apart in my arms. I can’t hold on any longer, and join her, then hold her close to me, not ready to let go.
“I hated sleeping without you,” she admits softly. “I was wrong to leave, Finn.”
“We agree on that.” I kiss her forehead. “We won’t handle things like that again.”
“No.” Her hand trails down my back to my ass, where she grips on tightly. “Have I told you that I’m rather fond of your ass?”
“Maybe once or twice.”
“Well, I am.” She kisses my shoulder. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Do you love me enough to make me breakfast?”
I smile down at her. “Yes, but I don’t think either of our places is stocked.”
“Right.” She scrunches up her nose. “I guess we’ll have to go out for breakfast, then.”
“You must have worked up an appetite.”
“You spanking my ass always makes me hungry.”
Chapter Twenty
~London~
Two weeks later . . .
Finn should be home any minute. This might have been the longest workday on record, if the amount of missing him I’ve done is any indication. I leave early tomorrow morning for L.A. to get started on filming, and Finn had to be in court today, so it wasn’t possible for him to stay home.
Not to mention I had meetings all day with Fiona and our attorneys, getting contracts under way so I can back her show, and we can get it set into motion.
This show is going to change lives.
But I haven’t seen him all day. Which I guess is fine. I mean, I’m going to see him in three days, and then he’ll be in L.A. with me for a whole week. I’ll be so busy with rehearsals and filming, I’ll hardly have time to miss him.
But it’s not lost on me that I’m all moved in to his beautiful condo, just in time to pack up to leave.
I have to keep reminding myself that it’s only temporary.
I’m standing in the middle of my massive new closet, my hair wet from the shower, trying to decide what to pack and what to wear.
“Do you like your new closet?” Finn asks from the doorway behind me, startling me.
“I didn’t hear you.” He’s leaning there, just watching me, rubbing his forefinger over his lower lip. I want to bite him there. “I’m glad you’re home.”
“Me too.” His lips twitch as he pushes away from the doorframe and walks slowly to me. “I see you got everything unpacked in here today.”
“I did. And now I have to pack up to leave tomorrow. Also, have I thanked you for remodeling this for me?”
“About a thousand times.” He smiles and kisses my forehead. I just look around at the space. It’s massive. Floor-to-ceiling shelves line two walls for shoes and bags. There is a tall dresser on either end, and so many racks for clothes I almost didn’t have enough to fill them.
Almost.
“I spoke with the Realtor in L.A. this afternoon. She’s lined up five houses for us to see on Sunday.”
“That’s a lot of houses.”
“I want you to have plenty to choose from,” he says, his eyes perfectly serious. Since the argument on his birthday, we’ve both made an effort to listen to the other and communicate our needs clearly.
So far, we’re doing well.
“And there’s no pressure, London. If we don’t see one that you love, we’ll keep looking. There’s no rush.”
“Sounds good. And what do we have on deck for tonight? You were awfully vague on the phone earlier.”
He smiles and twists a piece of my hair in his finger, then tips my face up so he can plant the kind of kiss on me that makes the gods weep.
“We’ll be spending the evening up on the roof.”
“What’s up there?”
“Dinner. Relaxation. You and me.”
“Well, that sounds just about perfect.”
He nods, and then seems to make some kind of decision, because he suddenly lifts me into his arms and carries me to his bedroom.
“I’m not dressed.”
“I noticed.”
“My hair is wet.”
“Sexy as fuck when it’s wet,” he replies, and tosses me unceremoniously onto the massive bed. My towel opens, falling to either side of me.
“Oops, there went my towel.”
“Pity,” he says, making a tsk tsk sound, and then climbs up onto the bed with me, his hand gliding over my skin and setting me on fire.
Which is what happens every time he touches me.
“Do we have time for this?”
“Baby, we can do whatever we want tonight.”
“Well then, carry on.”
He smirks and watches in fascination as he brushes his finger over my nipple, making it pucker for him. “So responsive.”
“That’s just anatomy, Finn. You touch it and it puckers.”
“Is that so?”
I nod.
“What about this?” He drags his fingertips down my side, and my skin breaks out in goose bumps. “Is this anatomy too?”
“I would think so.”
“Hmm.” His hand continues down my hip and over my thigh, then up to the crease where my leg meets my torso. “What if I drag my finger here?”