“You can. I can’t,” I panted. Mouth play could get me right to the edge, but I needed more…bigger…harder…thrusting…to cross to the other side. “I’m sorry.”

He jumped out of bed and over to his dresser. “Sorry for what? Telling me what you want?” Returning with a condom, he said, “Never be sorry for that.”

“Who are you?” I put my hand up. “I know I said it out loud again.”

He grinned before climbing into the bed with me. “My name is Finn Adams, and I’d like to fuck you now. Is that okay?”

“Yes, please.”

He slid inside me agonizingly slowly, entering only part of the way and back again…over and over, torturously…until I was begging for more. I tightened my legs around his hips and pushed him deeper. The mattress squeaked with our movements. Soon I was panting, and we were both slick with sweat. We came together, loudly, and I hoped Finn was right about being the only guests at the B&B. Then, while the ice cream I bought him melted into liquid sugar, we did it again. We probably fucked for the duration of at least one Hallmark movie, including commercials.

And it was way better than okay.

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

I sighed happily—deliciously spent.

“That was nice,” he said. “Thank you.”

I flipped onto my side to face him. He was flat on his back with his arms over his head, and I was relieved to see from his goofy grin that he was playing with me.

“I had fun too.” Performance-wise, his score was a solid A+. But I knew this wasn’t a long-term thing. If I hadn’t been mentally prepared to be a temporary fuck buddy, I wouldn’t have knocked on his door tonight.

Except when he looked at me like that—he’d curled onto his side as well, so the tops of our heads were practically touching, and the expression on his face was an almost familiar fondness. There’d been no sappy after-sex cuddle or, on the opposite extreme, a cruel leap out of bed to cleanse himself of my bodily fluids or smell. But that fondness might be hard to give up, especially to dive back into the general dating swamp of uninterested guys who didn’t give two fucks if you came or went. Pun intended on the former.

Even though we’d just met, I felt like Finn knew me. But it was probably the oxytocin from the sex fooling me into thinking we were closer than we were.

“Adi?”

“Huh?”

He was doing it again. The fondness thing. And calling me by my nickname like it was the most natural thing in the world. His face was so close, I could count the faint freckles on the bridge of his nose. It was impossible to picture a miniature version of this man living in a car.