Talk to Me (7 page)

“Nobody,” I told him, the word thick and dry on my tongue. “Just stopped in for a couple drinks after work.”

“I can’t believe you’re here alone and drunk to top it off. Ever hear of the buddy system?”

“I’m not drunk,” I slurred.

“Jesus, Casey. I just watched you being passed around like a joint. What the hell are you doing?”

“Having fun?” I stumbled again.

“Right.” Finn wrapped his arms around me. “The time for fun is over. Let me bring you home. Tomorrow we can talk about how getting drunk in public could ruin your career.”

“I don’t want to leave.”

“You’ll thank me in the morning.”

“But I want to dance.” Actually, I wanted an excuse to stay in his arms a little longer.

“Casey, please trust me. I need to get you out of here.”

“Just one dance,” I begged. “Then I’ll go with you.”

“Fine. Once dance and then we’re out of here.”

Finn slid his body up to mine and I inhaled. His scent was delicious, all leather and spice. I leaned into him, closing my eyes and resting my head on his chest. Then we began to move.

I didn’t really hear the music, just the beat of Finn’s heart. It was all I needed to keep time. Soon we were gliding across the floor effortlessly. In tune with every move of his body, I followed him without thinking.

His warm hand slid under my shirt to rest on the small of my back, and it set off sparks under my skin that ran from my scalp to my toes. Soon it became incredibly difficult to keep my steps.

I opened my eyes and Finn’s jaw was tight, eyes hooded, and I knew we both need a breather.

“Bathroom break,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Sure.” He looked relieved, leading me to the restroom.

The second I got inside, I went to the sink and ducked my head under the faucet. I braced my hands on the cool walls. Unsure if it was the booze or Finn, but the room was spinning. And ohmygod, I had to go to the bathroom so bad.

Yanking my dress up and panties down, I plunked into the toilet. Yes, into. In my drunkenness, I didn’t realize the seat was up.

What asshole puts the seat up in the Ladies Room?

Turns out it wasn’t the ladies.

“You know you’re in the men’s room, right?” Finn’s voice echoed off the walls.

“I do now,” I said.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep guard. Nobody’s coming in.” He sighed and shut the door.

I pulled my shit together, realizing Finn was right. It was time to go. But when I opened the bathroom door, he was there waiting for me, and I literally fell into his arms.

They circled around me, and I lost my mind. I yanked him down the dark hallway into a supply closet. The little breather did absolutely nothing to cool off things between us. Without my brain’s permission, my body reacted to the man standing in front of me.

For once, I let it.

My arms snaked around his waist and up his back. I rubbed up against him, trying to get closer.

“Casey,” he growled in warning, but I didn’t care.

My lips found his the very next second, and the fireworks went off as I invaded his soft, full mouth. With my tongue, I traced the seam of his lips, teasing them. Opening them, so I could have more. I wanted that. It was on a loop in my head:
more, more, more.

I gave him more and finally, gloriously, his tongue tentatively entered my mouth in a light sweep, like he was testing the waters.

And then he dove in and the bottom of my stomach dropped right out from under me.

That was the last thing I remembered.

Finn

Anchor/Kiki Stuart:
If you knew she was a reporter, why on earth did you get involved?

Finn:
I wanted to trust again. I wanted to trust her.

I wasn’t completely sure Casey Scott was on the up and up. My experience with reporters told me to stay on guard. My dick begged me not to ruin this with my paranoia.

When I saw her in the bar with that guy, I almost lost it.

I wanted to believe I’d become the good guy, helping out damsels in distress and all that shit. That wasn’t it. I simply couldn’t handle seeing another man’s hands on her.

When she turned her attention on me, I went fucking nuts. Her hands, her lips, her tight frame pulling me closer. I loved every fucking second. Still, I wouldn’t take her that way, drunk and careless. I wanted her to remember every last detail with me.

I brought her home that night and she passed right out. And when I checked in on her in the morning, she didn’t remember a thing. I wasn’t sure it was a good idea to fill her in, so I let it go. I didn’t want her embarrassed or regretful. I had one chance, and I wasn’t going to fuck it up.

So we started slow. Grabbing a coffee here and there. Meeting for morning runs. It was cold now, so I was deprived the guilty pleasure of ogling her in little shorts. But I rather enjoyed her running tights as well. I enjoyed almost everything about her.

One morning, her slower strides and quiet way told me something was off.

“Something wrong?” I asked.

“Nothing,” she said. “Just work.”

“The Mole again?”

“Yes, but forget it. It’s not worth talking about.”

“Your career is worth talking about, Case. What’s going on?”

“Do you think I come off as a bitch?” she asked, her voice slightly shaking, from the cold or something else, I couldn’t tell.

“No,” I said without a thought. “Why do you ask?”

“Phil thinks I need to be warmer, more laid back on air.”

It wasn’t the first time she told me about her run-ins with the sports director. The reckless side of me had already mentally beaten him to a pulp a few times. The more time I spent with Casey, the more protective of her I became.

“I know for someone like Phil, no brains and squeaky giggles are the ultimate turn on. But trust me, you have a following.”

“What do you mean? There are hardly any comments on my Facebook page, my Twitter account is a poor comparison to Mack’s, and I don’t even have any raunchy calls coming into the station for me like the other women.”

“You want raunchy calls?”

“You know what I mean. I don’t want to be looked at that way, but I still wonder why I’m not. Does that even make sense?”

“Casey, men (and I’m sure some women) definitely look at you that
way
. If you could only hear the filthy thoughts I have going on in my head any time I see you.”

“Stop.”

“I’m serious.”

Casey bit her lip and I knew I was making her uncomfortable, but it was time she knew my intentions. We had completely ignored what had happened that day she fell off her bike. Hardly mentioned it. Same with her drunken episode at the bar. We ran, made small talk, and joked around.

Occasionally, Casey asked me questions about hockey, and I asked her questions about journalism. It was an easy friendship, despite the fact that there was so much heat beneath the exterior I could hardly stand it. I knew she felt it too, and I was tired of easy.

I stopped and gripped her shoulders so she’d know how serious I was. “You are amazing at your job; you are sexy as hell; and you don’t have to sell out.”

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this,” she said.

“As long as it takes,” I told her. “I see good things coming your way, Casey Scott. Just hang in there.”

I meant every word.

BEEP (n.):

An audio signal used for alerting or warning.

Something I missed completely.

Casey

As the weeks passed, I knew I was gaining Finn’s trust. He had already gained mine. And I struggled with it every day. Especially as he opened up to me more and more.

“You know, we’ve never really talked about that day at the house,” he said one December afternoon. “I still owe you an explanation for my behavior.”

If he only knew how much I thought about it.

“You don’t have to tell me a thing, Finn,” I told him. “I’m sure you had groupies and women bothering you all the time.”

“Well, that
is
true,” he said. “But that’s not what that day was about.”

“What was it about then?”

“A glimpse at my past, I’m sorry to say. By the time I got to the NHL I wasn’t doing so hot, Casey. I was out of control … in many ways. I indulged on everything. Booze, exercise, hockey. I played constantly, getting rougher with each game. I had a hard time staying within the lines. And the women? It’s not something I’m proud of. But part of where I was at mentally, well, it included a never-ending craving for anything that got the endorphins going. Sex played a big part of my life. I was — and please don’t run away — insatiable at times.”

My body buzzed at his confession. My brain put it all together — the sex, power, cravings, drive. That’s it, he was hiding some sort of addiction.

I cleared my throat, trying to get the need out of my voice. “And now?”

“I’m better. I’m so much better. But I apparently still have a few issues to deal with.”

“The sex?” I asked. Unable to believe my balls in asking the question. But hell, I wanted to know.

He laughed. “Yes, the sex.”

“Maybe you just have a healthy appetite,” I offered.

“Unfortunately, I don’t think it’s healthy. And the sad part? I still miss that part of my life. That wild, uncontrolled part of myself. Even though it almost destroyed me.”

In that moment, he was telling me what was going on. But I was missing it, because he had me so hot for him my brain couldn’t even function. He told me he was sick, he told me about the obsession, the highs and lows, and still I missed it.

“Have you had a relationship or, ahem,
relations
, since you’ve been well?”

“No. And fuck, Casey, I miss it. The way you had me all whipped up that day. I mean, I know you weren’t asking me to touch you. But, in my mind, you were so on board.”

He leaned forward and my breath caught. I closed my eyes, remembering his hands on me, inside me. My heart rate picked up and Finn moved closer.

“You were on board, weren’t you? I mean, I know it wasn’t planned on your part. But, once things got going, you didn’t stop me.”

Busted.

“Ah.”

Finn grinned and stopped me with a finger to my lips.

It took all my willpower not to suck it into my mouth.

“I didn’t imagine that part,” he said. “Please don’t tell me I imagined it.”

“You didn’t imagine it,” I admitted.

“And what about now?” He ran his thumb across my bottom lip. “There
is
something here, right?”

I nodded and this time I did pull his thumb into my mouth, just for a second. Finn groaned so low and deep, the most pleasurable vibration buzzed between my legs.

“What do you want to do about it?” he asked.

“Maybe we could try things the old fashioned way,” I offered. “A date first?”

“A date?” He raised his eyebrows as if to say
really?

I started to answer him, but before I could, his lips were brushing against mine. Teasing. Testing. And then crushing and taking, making me feel good in places that had nothing to do with the kiss. His hard, demanding lips forced me to open to him so his tongue could take over, stroking mine and gliding over my teeth. He ravaged my mouth so thoroughly, so commanding, that when he finally pulled away I felt more exposed than if he would’ve stripped me bare.

“Yes,” I continued with my initial request, unable to stop panting. “A date. Then see where it goes from there.”

Finn moved closer, digging his fingers into my hips.

“I think we both know where it’s going to go,” he whispered into the shell of my ear.

I knew he was right.

***

We set our first date for the following day. Finn called me a few hours before our scheduled time and told me to dress comfortably.

I went silent at the request.

He chuckled in response and I felt it deep in my bones. “We’re going hiking, Casey. Jeez, get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Oh, good,” I praised. “That is a perfectly acceptable date.”

“Did I tell you about the caves? Cold and dark where anything could happen.”

“Thanks for the warning, but you will not get me into any caves.”

Finn picked me up in his truck, which I loved. It was warm and rugged and comfortable. Just like he was. After spending so much time at the studio with the overly made-up talking heads, it was a nice change of pace to be around someone so unapologetically masculine.

He drove up to one of the trailheads on the cliff that overlooked the St. Croix. We didn’t have snow yet, but we could see our breath. I pulled on my gloves and hat.

Finn flipped on his pack — one that looked too full for a short afternoon of light hiking. It had me worried.

“Just how long do you plan on keeping me out here?” I asked him.

“Oh, this?” He jiggled the pack. “Didn’t I tell you we’re camping for the night?”

“No,” I snapped.

“Too much for a first date?”

“Way too much.”

“How about a picnic then?”

“Better.”

“Mmm,” he groaned. “Easy for you to say, now that you got me all worked up again.”

He stalked toward me and I quickly put my hands up to stop him.

“Don’t worry, Case.” He said my name so easily, it had me dropping my hands instantly. He was not a person to be pushing away. He was a person to be reeling in.

“I’ll be good.”

***

Finn was good. There was a little touching as he helped me navigate the trails, a slight brush of hands while we ate our picnic lunch, but the caves?

All talk.

When the sun began to dip low in the sky, Finn brought me home and I was happy to see he was back to his old grabby self.

“It’s the end of the date,” he said. “End of date kisses are appropriate, yeah?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

That’s all he needed. He leaned over in the seat and lifted me onto his lap. His strong hands grasping my hips. I was surrounded in the bubble that was Finn. Strong, unyielding. All consuming.

He brushed his nose along mine and it was almost sweet.

No, it was sweet.

Until his hands slid down to my bottom, cupping me. Grinding me closer.

His lips captured mine and attacked my mouth. First long and deep. Then he toyed with me, taking little bites.

I shifted my bottom so his erection pushed where I needed it the most. He growled into my mouth and I thought this was it. But in the very next breath, he said
goodnight.

It would be a while before I’d get that much action again.