Page 87 of Manhattan Tormentor

Finn of old would have sneered and fired verbal gunshots. This version in front of me sighs with a drop of his head, turning on his heels. I watch him walk down the pathway and climb into his Range Rover.

It’s a mixture of relief and disappointment when I get back to my books.

A thumping on the door some time later brings me out of a math problem that’s about to make me rip out my hair. I yank the door open, ready to tell some girl she has the wrong apartment if she’s searching for a party. The breath loses momentum in my throat when I see he’s back.

This time with a cardboard coffee holder with two takeout cups in his hand and a white paper bag in the other.

“If you’re busy, it means you’ve probably forgotten to eat. I brought the sandwiches you like.”

A lot of questions circulate all at once. Primarily, what does he think he’s doing? But I find none of those questions come from my lips. Instead I ask, “what kinda sandwiches?”

His grin comes fast and my stomach squeezes. He looks like I’ve gifted him something.

I don’t want to make him smile, but yet that’s all I want to see.

“Italian meatball sub and roast chicken.”

My belly grumbles, he’s right, I forget to eat once my head is in a problem. I sigh and push the door open, and he steps in, filling the hallway with his size and scent.

“You’re only getting in because I want the food.”

“Understood,” he smirks. He takes a seat on the brown couch without an invitation, unbuttoning his jacket, he unpacks the bag on the table. Sliding the coffee my way as I stand there like a moron unable to move. Looking at the guy who makes me miserable and come alive at the same time.

“I got you a double espresso Oreo latte.”

“Fancy,” I bite, even though I like the drink. “What all queers order.”

His head comes up and I see his eyes flare. “You can swap with mine, it’s a flat white.”

“Okay, who are you and what did you do with Finn Maverick? Is he tied up in your alien ship? You’ll soon dump him back on earth once you’ve had him for five minutes.”

His laugh is hot and throaty, and it sends sparks of longing to my gut. To quell them, I plonk my ass on a chair and lift the latte to my lips.

“You had me for longer than five minutes and didn’t toss me out, Fierro.” He declares. That one statement punches heat into the atmosphere and his meaning of why he’s here isclear.

He still wants me.

“I’m not looking for a hook-up.” I tell him bluntly, unwrapping a sandwich. He has his in front of him too.

“Neither am I, but I won’t say no.”

“Then what do you want?”

“Straight to the point. I like it. Why don’t you eat first, then we’ll talk?”

“That’s not how this works, Maverick. I’m not doing anything on your time frame. So either tell me what you want or you and your sandwiches can get out.”

I want to punch the grin off his smug face. But then, that urge is nothing new around Finn. He makes me have violent thoughts. On the flip side, he also has me mentally undressing him.

“What do I want? You.” He says no more because he takes a giant bite of his sub, his eyes pinning me with their intense color.

I shouldn’t be surprised. He hasn’t masked the lust he’s feeling ever since he sank a kiss into me, but the hit of his words sits heavy on my chest.

I finish the sandwich in a few bites, plus the coffee.

Finn does the same until there’s nothing else left to distract us from talking.

“I didn’t realize feeding you would turn you mute. I gotta remember that in the future.”

---