Home > Out of Line (Out of Line #1)(14)

Out of Line (Out of Line #1)(14)
Author: Jen McLaughlin

He cocked a brow. “Yeah. What’s wrong? You naked under there?”

“No, of course not.” I looked around. A bunch of surfers were stripping out of their suits without a shred of modesty a few feet over, chatting about the waves that would be coming from the storm tonight. Apparently undressing in public was normal. “I just didn’t realize…”

I drifted off, feeling stupid. It’s not like my bikini I wore underneath was something I never showed anyone. It was meant to be worn out in public, for Pete’s sake. I might be undressing in public in front of a bunch of men, but it was a bikini. No big deal.

After taking a deep breath to calm my stupidly racing heart, I peeled the wetsuit off my body. For a brief second, I thought my bikini top had gone off with the suit, but a quick glance showed it was still in place—but slightly skewed. As I adjusted the top, I lifted my head and found Finn watching me with dark eyes. As our gazes collided, he turned away.

I had caught him watching me, and the look in his eyes had sent a fist of something crashing through me. Desire? Need? Both.

God, he didn’t make any sense. He watched me as if he couldn’t get his mind off me, and yet he kept insisting he couldn’t have me. Heaven forbid another man looked my way though. He’d be all over the guy in two seconds flat, just like a jealous boyfriend. All the cons without the pros.

I tugged the wetsuit past my hips, but stopped when I realized the wetsuit wasn’t the only thing I was removing. “Oops. My bikini bottom almost came off.”

“Please make sure it doesn’t,” he said over his shoulder. “Unless you want to put on a show for a bunch of older men.”

Were they all older? I scanned the men surrounding us. A guy was about my age leaned against a tree, his eyes on me. “They’re not all old. The guy watching me over there is my age. Actually, he’s kind of cute…”

Finn spun around so fast he should have gotten whiplash. Within seconds, he was in front of me, his hands on my hips and his back pressed to my front. “Who? Where?”

Yep. Jealous boyfriend, only without the perks. No way I was letting him go all alpha male on the poor guy for daring to look at me. “I think he might have left.”

I pretended to look around his wide shoulders, leaning against his back for support. When my br**sts brushed against his damp skin, my already hard ni**les pebbled into even harder beads, seeming to beg for his touch. Could he tell? Did he know? When he tensed up and drew in a deep breath, I got my answer. “Fuck, Carrie. What are you doing?”

“Just looking around for that guy,” I breathed, finding boldness in his obvious reaction to me. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“You aren’t ready for what you’re starting, Ginger.”

Yeah, I was. He was the one who wasn’t ready. Not me.

I didn’t know what struck me, what made me think that I could seduce him. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. He’d probably been with countless women, while I was nothing but a nineteen-year-old virgin who read too many romance books. One who didn’t know what to do with a man like Finn.

But I tried anyway. I trailed my fingers over his shoulders, then leaned in and pressed a kiss to the back of his shoulder. Reaching around him, I let my hands slide down his hard pecs, toward his abs. He tensed and hissed through his teeth. I bit down on his shoulder and tried to get up the nerve to go even lower.

He shuddered and leaned back into me, his hands reaching around to grab my butt. His fingers fanned out over the top of my thighs, so close to touching me where I needed him most, yet not close enough. “Carrie…” he said, his voice strained. “You need to…I need to…back away. Now. Or you’ll be mine in more ways than you can handle. Right here. Right now. In front of everyone.”

After a second of hesitation, I backed off, the intensity in his voice almost too much for me to handle. I didn’t doubt that he meant it. That he would kiss me in front of everyone. But surely not…not what he said. He acted as if he was about to bend me over the bench and have his way with me.

“You wouldn’t.” I pressed my hands to my cheeks, which suddenly felt way too hot.

“I would.” He spun to face me, his face red. “What game are you playing?”

My gaze fell to his erection, which strained against his swim trunks. He wanted me, just like I wanted him. I swallowed past the Sahara Desert that was now my throat and forced my eyes northward. “I’m not playing any games. I just wanted—”

“I know what you wanted.” He flexed his jaw and stepped back from me. His gaze dipped below my face for a second, but then he turned around again. My stomach coiled, as if he’d touched me instead of simply looking my way. “Put the towel on.”

I scowled at his back. If he wanted to ignore the desire between us, I would let him, but I didn’t have to make it easy on him. After drying my hair, I flung the towel across the bench before I sat down and reclined against the seat. Covering a yawn with my hand, I dropped my head back against the wood.

“You got something against a towel?” he asked.

“Yeah. I want to feel the sun.”

“Feel it through a towel,” he said.

“Nah. I’m good.” I bit my lower lip to keep it from lifting into a smile. I kind of liked the fact that he couldn’t bear seeing me. At least, now that I knew why. “That was fun but exhausting.”

I heard him move closer, but didn’t open my eyes. “Maybe you’re tired because of the partying and not the surfing,” he said.

“I doubt it.” I cracked one eye open to look at him. He was watching me, but he wasn’t staring at my face. “Though, I did meet a nice guy.”

His fists went even tighter. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. His name’s Cory.” I shrugged. “He gave me his number. We’re in a bunch of classes together, and we even have the same major.”

He was exactly the kind of man Dad would pick for me. The kind of guy he would want to call his son-in-law. If they ever met, Dad would probably start drawing up wedding invitations within minutes of meeting Cory. I, however, preferred my men with tattoos and attitude and perpetually disheveled hair.

Men like Finn.

“How perfect,” he said, his voice tight. “I’m sure Daddy would approve of him.”

My eyes flew open. His thoughts mirrored my own way too well. “Excuse me?”

“I-I mean, he sounds like the kind of guy a father would like.” He sat down beside me, hanging his hands in between his knees. “From what little I know of fathers, anyway.”

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