She pushed back against him, taking him inch by inch, her tight muscles stretching around him. He used her own arousal as lubrication as he pulled back and plunged into her again. She panted, reaching back, and digging her blunt nails into his leg. With his hands on her breasts, he pumped into her until she cried out and the muscles of her sex squeezed him.
She paused to catch her breath, her inner muscles still fluttering around him and then she began to move again, driving her hips back against him and drawing him farther into her warmth. Using the wall, she pushed herself back, until he couldn’t control himself anymore, and he came inside her.
He stood for a moment on shaking legs trying to catch his breath. His chest tightened, emotions pushing to the surface that were better left buried deep. He pulled out of her, a soft moan falling from her lips as he did. She turned to him, her green eyes shining and her smile a little mischievous.
Gretchen Christensen was the only person in his whole life who’d ever brought him peace, the one person who’d fought for him and loved him freely. He’d never wondered what would happen when the innocent girl who loved him turned into a woman. Now he knew—the girl had never asked for anything, but the woman had stolen his heart.
~ ~ ~
Gretchen sat on the side of the bed in her towel and waited for Finn to come out of the bathroom. She had to tell him why she’d been at the club the night before, honesty was the only chance she had to save her case. He’d never let her back in the club if he thought she was really a dancer sleeping her way through the members
He wouldn’t rat her out to Carlisle, but after the things he’d said to her in front of everyone the night before she couldn’t be sure of anything else. Her stomach tensed with the memories and tears pricked at her eyes. She fought them back. She prided herself on her ability to convince others of her covers, it shouldn’t hurt that Finn had fallen for it too.
She looked up when he stepped into the doorway, his towel slung low on his narrow hips. Her eyes followed a drop of water as it ran over the hard muscles of his chest and down the ridge of his abs before it disappeared in the light trail of hair behind his towel. After he heard what she had to say, he probably wouldn’t allow her the privilege of ogling him again.
Coming into the room, he sauntered to his dresser. “You thinking about those things you need to tell me?”
She nodded.Here wego. “Do you go to the club often?”
He turned and narrowed his eyes. “You mean do I sleep with girls at the club often?”
“No.” She’d been told he didn’t mess with the girls, and she believed that. “I mean do you go there often? Should I expect to see you there again?”
He slammed the opened drawer of his dresser. “Youshould never expect to see me there,” he informed her, barely biting back his fury. “Because you’ll never be there again.”
“Yes, I will,” she replied quietly. “I’ll be there at six o’clock tonight. Mr. Carlisle needs me again.”
Finn let out a humorless laugh. “I thought I made it clear last night you were done there. I told you—”
“You told me,” she pushed forward, her quiet voice overriding his anger, “you would train me in the art of whoring.” Her voice cracked before she could finish, and she ground her teeth together to stop her tears. “Do you really think I’m a whore? Is that why you finally slept with me?”
Finn crouched at the side of the bed and took her arms in his hands. “I know you’re not, but I can’t for the life of me figure out why the hell you were in that club.”
She took a deep breath and met his gaze. “Can I trust you?”
His gray eyes darkened as his jaw clenched. “With your life,” he vowed. “There’snothingI wouldn’t do for you.”
Except love me,she thought bitterly.
She forced her lips to turn up. “Good, because that’s what I’m doing by telling you this.”
He shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
“I do have a job at the club,” she confided, “but it’s not dancing or hooking.”
He dropped his hands from her arms, bracing himself for her next words.
“I’m there to get information on Carlisle. I’m undercover.”
He jerked away as if she’d struck him, before he rose and moved back to the dresser. For a moment, only the sound of his ragged breaths filled the room. Finally, he turned back to her. “You’re a fucking cop?”
She let her silence serve as answer.
“Jesus, Gretchen. What the fuck?” He turned away again, tunneling his hands through his hair. “Brock said you were a lawyer.”
She let her family believe that. “I was recruited out of law school.” Because someone had noticed books and negotiations bored her. She needed action.
His eyes turned to slits. “Recruited? Cops aren’t recruited.”