He nodded. “I learned about the kind of love I wanted because it was the opposite of what I was given growing up. I get attached sometimes because of it. Needy.”
What a gift, I thought, to be needed by a man like Finn Covington.
“Well, sounds like you need someone who can keep up,” I said. “Who can provide?”
Finn cracked his neck and gave me a long look from his side of the table. “And can you provide?” he asked me simply.
The unspoken part of his question was louder than the words.
You’re about to be married, Sophie. Can you give me the attention I want? The attention I deserve? Or will you get tired of it after the novelty of a third wears off?
The worry was etched across his face, deep in the lines around the corners of his eyes. I wished we were anywhere besides a public place because the need to take this man’s face into my hands and kiss him until he relaxed was a very real thing, threatening to consume me entirely.
“I can provide,” I whispered, worrying my tongue across my lower lip. “But I’m not a mind reader.”
“Fair.” He shoved his hair back from his face, forearm muscle flexing in a very indecent way.
God, I was such a slut for a good forearm. For a good man.
“So, what do you need right now?”
“Nothing I can say out loud,” he muttered.
I reached into my purse and pulled out my cell phone, set it on the table, face up. “Text it.”
Finn chuckled, rolling his eyes at me, but he reached into his pocket and dug out his phone. He made a show of clearing his throat, adjusting himself like he was about to give a presentation at work. His fingers flew across the keyboard and then he pressed send. I held his stare until my phone vibrated on the table, only looking away to pick it up to read the message he’d sent me.
Finn
I need to taste you again. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about your cunt since Saturday morning when you let me bury myself between your legs. I want to make you come and then I want to bend you over the back of my couch and fuck you until you come again. I want you shaking and boneless and as much as I want to do that just you and me, I also want Daniel there too. I want your fiancé to watch me take you apart, and if it makes him jealous, I want him to take that out on me after I’m through with you. I want it to be messy, Soph.
My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth and another text message came through immediately after. I hadn’t even seen him pick up his phone again.
I also want to know your favorite color. Favorite movie. Favorite late-night snack.
If this was needy, let the man need.
“Marigold,” I rasped, clearing my throat and setting my phone back down on the table. “The Dreamers. Daniel’s nachos.”
Finn’s gaze danced across my face, the corner of his mouth twitching into the slightest hint of a relaxed smile.
“Yours?”
“Navy blue,” he answered. “Eurotrip. Also Daniel’s nachos.”
My cheeks burned. How was it so easy for this man, this practical stranger, to undo me so easily. With Daniel, I’d never felt out of control. There’d never been any doubt in my mind about which one of us had the upper hand. It had always beenme, and neither of us made any secret of that. It was what we both wanted, what we needed, what worked. And then Finn showed up with his little sad boy eyes and his quick tongue, and there I was, questioning everything.
Well, not everything.
I still loved Daniel, still wanted to marry him, still wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. But Finn.
Finn.
“Did the other message go through?” he asked with a sly grin, glancing up at me from the fan of his lashes before popping a slice of Mongolian Beef into his mouth. He chewed, swallowed. “Did you need me to send it again?”
“I got it.”
“And?”