Finlay Donovan Jumps the Gun (Finlay Donovan, #3)(86)
“Please stop talking.”
The sound that came from him was almost feral. He backed me to the wall, pinning me by the hips, our kisses becoming fevered and desperate. I grabbed on to his shoulders, my palm brushing the raised scar there, a remnant of the shoot-out at the Westovers’ house.
A vibration started somewhere in his pants. “Your phone,” I panted as his mouth moved down my neck.
“Not answering.”
“But what if it’s about Feliks?”
“Don’t care.”
I worked the button loose on his pants.
“You okay with this?” he asked, gripping the hem of my sweatshirt.
“Definitely, completely, totally okay with this.” He tugged it over my head as we limped backward across his room. My heel connected with the bed and I fell into it. Nick fell with me, every gloriously solid inch of him landing between my legs.
“Oh, wow,” I said, a little breathless at the thought. “That’s … a lot of research material.”
He grinned against my ear. His hair tickled my collarbone, then the rise of my chest as his mouth moved down to my bra, teasing me through the fabric. “We don’t have to cover it all tonight.”
“I wasn’t objecting.” I arched against him, the sensitive skin of my belly jumping at his touch. I felt his fingers unfasten the button on my jeans. Felt the zipper hum down. Felt Nick moan against my navel as he realized, the same moment I remembered, that I didn’t have any underwear on.
“Ground rules?” His voice was strained and urgent, his hands still where they gripped my jeans, waiting for me to decide how far I was willing to go. But I was so far beyond caring about the rules anymore. It was only a month into the new year, and I was throwing my third resolution into the fire like a cheap champagne flute.
“No rules,” I said. I was only destined to break them. And I refused to feel guilty about any of this.
CHAPTER 33
I was distantly aware of the vibration of a cell phone. I burrowed deeper into the bed, fighting off a shiver. When the rattling didn’t stop, I threw an arm out of the blankets, swatting out blindly for my nightstand. My hand came down on a smooth, warm curve that was definitely not my cell phone.
I blinked open one eye. My cheek was pressed against Nick’s side and my outstretched hand rested on one truly spectacular pec. I peeled my drool-slicked face from his bare skin to peek at him. His lips were parted, shadowed in dark stubble. His worry lines were softened by sleep and the pale moonlight filtering through the window blind.
My phone started buzzing again. Nick stirred, his arm curling tighter around me. A soft moan rumbled in his chest as I pushed up on one elbow and reached across him for my jeans. I dug inside the pocket for my phone and hurried to dismiss the call, silently opening the string of text messages Vero had sent from the prepaid phone we’d purchased yesterday.
11:58pm: Where are you?
12:11am: The power’s out all over campus.
12:12am: I can’t see a damn thing and it’s cold in here.
12:32am: Please tell me you’re doing research for a steamy bestseller and you haven’t been dismembered by the Russian mob.
12:45am: Finn?
Shit! How long had I slept? The clock on my phone said it was almost two. EasyClean would be arriving soon to pick up the money and we hadn’t made the drop.
I pried Nick’s arm from my hip, careful not to wake him as I backed out of the blankets and gathered my clothes from the floor. I hurried to dress, pulling back the edge of the blinds to see the glare of moonlight on freshly frozen sidewalks.
An eerie hush seemed to hover over the campus. Vero was right; every window in every building was dark. The fire tower was a hulking black shadow in the distance, the crisscrossing stairwells impossible to make out.
Shit. Shit. Shit!
I found my shoes and tucked them under my arm. My toe caught the edge of Nick’s suitcase on my way to the door. I bit back a swear, but Nick didn’t stir. His chest rose and fell in a steady, deep rhythm, his arm still curled around the empty dip I’d left in the bed. I wondered how long it had been since he’d truly gotten any rest, and I hoped for Vero’s and my sakes he’d stay asleep for a few hours more.
I typed out a quick message to Vero. On my way up. Be there in a minute.
Her response was immediate. If you do not bring the whisky back, I’ll murder you myself.
I grabbed the bottle off the desk, careful not to make a sound as I closed Nick’s door behind me.
* * *
A chill had settled over the dormitory while I’d been in Nick’s room. I snuck back upstairs, using my phone to light my way up the pitch-black stairwell to the third floor. I jumped as a flashlight beam caught me square in the face.
Roddy lowered his light. He fought back a grin as he checked his watch. “You’ve been down there for hours. That must have been quite a statement.”
“Very funny,” I said, willing my heart rate to slow.
“Where’s Nick? Why didn’t he walk you back?”
“He fell asleep, and I didn’t have the heart to wake him.” Roddy gave me a scolding look. “It was only two floors. I was perfectly safe. I never left the building.”
“You should be more careful,” he said, shaking a finger at me. “Ty’s watching your room for the next few hours. You should get some sleep. I left some extra blankets for you and Vero. Power lines must be down from the ice storm. Might not have heat for a while. Try to stay warm.”