Page 23 of Riptide

He’s thinking again, like he did inside the bar, I know it. I can see it in the way he lingers, in the shadows of his frown, the way his grip flexes across his jaw like he’s holding himself back.

So I do the only thing I can think of, I brush my lips against his ear, my voice barely above a whisper. “You gonna let yourself have this, or back out?”

He hesitates for just a second before pulling away completely. Well, I guess the answer is no, then. There’s enough space between us now that the night air slips in where his body just was. I think he’s going to shut it down. Shutmedown. And I’m not sure if I’ll be more pissed or disappointed if he does. But then he meets my eyes.

Whatever just happened behind them…he’s made a choice.

“Come home with me,” he whispers, and I think I mishear him at first.

“Barely bought me a drink and now…” I joke, but I can see the moment it doesn’t reach him how I meant it. “Hey.”

Those stormy shadowed eyes flick back to me.

“I don’t think you understand how fucking sexy you are,” I hum, trailing my finger up his stomach. There’s definite muscle here, and I can’t wait to trace my tongue all over him.

Foxx swallows hard, his jaw flexing. “Finn—” He exhales, but his hands don’t move away. “I’m—” he cuts himself off, shaking his head slightly, like he’s trying to clear it.

I grin. “Speechless?”

His lips part, but no sound comes out and, fuck, that’s addictive.

“I like you like this,” I murmur. “A little wrecked. A little undone.”

He huffs a quiet laugh. “You have no idea what I would do to you.”

I take his hand, raising it to my mouth, letting my lips touch his wrist, our eyes locked the whole time, and I feel his pulse flutter. “Oh, baby,” I murmur, lips brushing his heated skin as his mouth parts. “I think I do. But you should take me home and show me.”

Once I drop his hand, his fingers lace around my jaw, firm but careful, holding me still in the pull of his gaze. Hookups aren’t meant to be this intimate, aren’t meant to feel like this, like he’s searching for something in me, like he’s mapping every flicker of hesitation, every unspoken thought. His thumb brushes over my cheek, the touch gentle and juxtaposing everything he’s giving me.

Too much. But I don’t pull away.

His throat bobs as he swallows, his grip just a little harder as he searches my face. “You sure?” The roughness of his voice sends a shiver down my spine.

I could joke. Smirk. Tease him the way I do. But something about the way he’s looking at me… What if I’m more than just a body to warm his bed for the night?

So instead, I exhale, and let my hands roam, tracing edges and pushing boundaries between us. “Yeah,” I say, quieter now, the weight of it settling into my bones. “I’m sure.”

Closing the space between us, I kiss him gently. He stills, almost as though he wasn’t expecting me to be like this, but it lasts only a second. His hands move from my face into my hair, and the light tug he gives has me moaning into his mouth. The kiss deepens, heat igniting between us, unraveling whateverrestraint he had left. He exhales against my lips, a sound somewhere between a sigh and a groan, and it shoots straight to my dick.

I pull back, my forehead brushing his. “Take me home, Foxx.”

His fingers flex in my hair, his breath unsteady. “Let’s go.”

Chapter ten

Foxx

BythetimeIpark outside my apartment building, Finn is also pulling up behind me in his truck. My pulse is an uneven drum marching against my ribs as I step out, inhaling the cold air deep into my lungs, but it does nothing to ground me. I feel untamed, something I haven’t felt in years.

Finn joins me on the sidewalk, shoving his hands in his jean pockets. “This you?” He tips his chin toward my building.

I nod. All words seem to have left me, for fear of scaring him off, maybe? For fear of saying something I shouldn’t? Thankfully, we head inside without saying a word, and I refrain from making a fool of myself. I unlock the door to reveal the low-lit stairwell, the hinges creaking as it closes behind us. Finn follows me, silently, and in this moment, I appreciate that. It gives me a second to gather myself.

When we reach my floor, I unlock my door and walk in, holding it open for him. He lingers in the threshold for half a beat before stepping inside, his gaze sweeping the space.

It’s clean. Uncluttered. Dark leather couch, polished wood floors, built-in bookshelves along one wall, most of the spines feathered and worn. The kitchen is open plan with the living area, sleek, all stainless steel and marble, lit by the under-cabinet lighting I always leave on. Floor-to-ceiling windows stretch across the far side, revealing the forest and lakes in the distance. I love looking out there at this time of night.

Finn takes off his jacket, draping it over the back of a chair before turning back to me. He doesn’t say anything, just watches me with something unreadable in his eyes.

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