Page 102 of Never Sleep with the Enemy

“Fin—” Her face twists through a full range of emotions. “Finkelstein? Your real name is LoganFinkelstein?”

“Yes.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it’s not! You’re joking.”

“Fine,” I say, running my fingers through her hair again. “Don’t believe me.”

“Show me your driver’s license,” she says.

“No.”

“Hey, the burden of proof is onyouhere.”

“The picture is awful. I won’t do it. And you’ll see my middle name, and I refuse to be that exposed.”

Katrina’s eyes light up.

Ireallyshouldn’t have said that.

“Well, now Ihaveto see it!” she says.

“No, you don’t. You have to hydrate.”

She raises the bottle to her lips. “Whatever you say,Finkelstein.”

“Oh, that’s what we’re doing now?”

“I guess...” Her lips twitch as she swallows a gulp of water and sets the bottle down on the counter.“Finkelstein.”

I hoist her up and over my shoulder before she can take another breath. She yelps, her laughter spilling around me as I carry her into the living room, her feet kicking playfully.

I drop her onto the couch, and she rolls onto her back, looking up at me, her body language pulling me down like gravity. She parts her thighs, cradling me between them as I brace my arms on either side of her.

I kiss her hard, wanting the moment to last, wanting to bottle her laughter and keep it forever. She exhales softly as I trail my lips down her neck, her fingers curling into the back of my shirt, pulling me closer. My cock throbs, heat coiling tight in my gut, and then?—

I feel her hands slide down my back.

I slam my palms over hers on my rear. “What are you doing?”

“Copping a feel,” she says innocently.

“And?” I arch a brow.

“And... looking for your wallet.”

I push back, laughing as she cackles beneath me. “Bad kitty.”

“I’m sorry!” she wheezes. “I just gotta know!”

I empty my pockets. A Plaza room key. A stack of yellow sticky notes. “Nice try,” I say. “Wallet’s in my jacket.”

She pouts. “Damn.”

I toss the items onto the coffee table and sink back down to punish her. With deep kisses; the kind that leave tender little bites on her bottom lip. I pin her hands above her head, holding her down with a glare that’s more sinister than stern. Her cheeks flush a soft pink.

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