Page 84 of The Hot Shot

I’m still blinking as he brings the phone up to look at the picture and utters a quickly stifled laugh.

I catch a glimpse. “Ack! No!” One of my eyes is closed, and my mouth is open.

Finn hums under his breath. “You look like a confused fish.”

I make a grab for the phone, but he holds it away, chuckling. “How on earth did you manage that, Chester?”

“Delete it or die, Mannus.”

“All right, but I need another one to replace it with.” Finn’s grinning face is so close, the flecks of navy in his irises are visible. Those happy eyes full of mischief. That smiling mouth that I find endless fascinating.

“Okay,” I say. “Do it again.”

He adjusts his grip on the phone, lifting it right in front of us. As soon as I feel his arm tense to take the picture, I kiss his cheek.

Finn gives a small start, his breath hitching. Before I can move away, he turns, his eyes a little wide. I’ve shocked him, making first contact.

A smile wavers on my lips. “How was that—?”

Finn presses his mouth to mine. The kiss is sweet and swift, a touch of lips to lips, a slight exchange of air. And it still manages to stop my heart and send heat flaring up my thighs.

He backs away just enough to meet my eyes. For one tight second, we stare at each other, breathing a bit faster, deeper, as if we’re not sure what just happened. And then he kisses me again. Another soft peck as if to make certain this time is real.

The third kiss is mine. His lips are firm and smooth, addicting.

Finn makes a small noise at the back of his throat, his lips lingering as if he’s simply enjoying the feel of me.

We’re barely touching, barely kissing even, yet it feels almost frantic, as if we have to take what we can get now. My hand rises, fingers clutching his shirt.More. Give me more.

“Yeah, enough of that,” Glenn—the rat bastard—says, suddenly in front of us. “We have a tree to trim, and Mom’s hooched-up nog to drink.”

Finn’s glare is scary. I’d run if I were Glenn, but the man seems immune. He gives us a shit-eating grin and backs away, holding up a silver ball ornament like a taunt.

Shaking his head wryly, Finn turns back to me. Meeting his gaze is too much. I can’t kiss him again. Not here. Not now. I won’t be able to stop.

“Kissing in front of the family accomplished,” I blurt out, hating myself as I do.

Ugly heat prickles on my cheeks, as he simply looks at me. I expect to see disappointment, but it’s worse. His expression is one of affection and gentle amusement, as if he’s silently saying,Oh, Chess, who do you think you’re fooling?

“I think,” he says after a long, hellish moment, “we’ll have to practice that play some more.”

With that, he leaves me. And I want to follow.

Finn

Sunset at Black’s Beach is one of my favorite places to be. It’s almost surreal, this canvas of gleaming oranges, hot pinks, and turquoise blues. The cliff face flares tangerine in the fading sunlight. The air is cooler now, tinged with briny sea spray.

A few surfers are enjoying an evening ride. I know some of them, but thankfully they haven’t yet recognized me. I need a few moments alone.

Which is why I didn’t invite Chess along, even though I want her to see this place.

I know what her lips feel like now. We’ve kissed. If you can even call what we did kissing. It was PG-13 stuff, quick pecks on the lips. Fuck if those stolen touches, the almost frantic fumblings, with her weren’t the hottest thing I’ve done in recent memory.

First touch of her lips and I was hard. The second, I’d wanted inside her. I’dneededit.

It had been so unexpected—her kissing my cheek, me snatching a little taste of her mouth in return—that I’d been coiled tight as a spring, unable to move or do anything but steal a few more kisses like a greedy, horny bastard afraid of having the whole opportunity ripped away from him.

And then it was. She pretended the whole thing was just for show.