“What did she do for a living?”

“She was a teacher. Third grade.” He buttoned his shirt, his hands steady. “She said that was the best age to teach because they were old enough to take care of themselves, but they hadn’t reached the cocky, know-it-all stage yet.”

I laughed. “That sounds about right.”

“Do you want kids someday?” he asked, his voice deep as he buttoned his shirt. “Little Carries running around the house causing trouble?”

I snorted. “I think it’s the little Finns that will be causing trouble. Not the Carries. And yeah, I’d like two or three kids in, like, ten years maybe. You?”

His fingers froze on the second to last button. It wasn’t until he looked at me, all heated eyes and kiss me now lips, that I realized why. I’d mentioned having kids with him instead of the fictional kids with my fictional husband. But when I pictured that life, I saw him at my side. I knew it. He knew it. Why pussyfoot around?

“I want two or three, too,” he said, his voice raw and his eyes on mine. “And ten years is perfect.”

I let out the breath I’d been holding and smiled at him. “It’s a plan.”

“It’s taking all my control not to pick you up right now, throw you onto that bed, and practice making babies with you without actually making any.” He finished up the last button. “But I have a plan on how tonight is going to go, you see. And I’m trying my best to follow it. So if you could stop looking so damn irresistible and stop saying all these things that make me want to kiss you, I’d appreciate it.”

He curled his hand behind my neck and hauled me against his chest, and the breath whooshed out of my lungs right before he melded his mouth to mine, stealing all conscious thought. I closed my fists over his white dress shirt, wrinkling the material, but I didn’t think he’d mind. Right now all that mattered was this. Us.

His mouth worked over mine and he pressed his hands to my lower back, his tongue gliding over mine perfectly. I moaned into his mouth and pushed him back against the wall. He went without a fight, but when I tried to start unbuttoning his shirt, he broke off the kiss and grabbed my hands. “Uh-uh. That’s not supposed to happen yet.”

I let out a small protest. At least, I think that’s what came out. Maybe I just cursed. I didn’t know, all I knew was I needed to feel his skin against mine. “We can go out of order, can’t we?”

“Nope.”

“Finn.” I slid my hands under his shirt, skimming over his hard abs, following along the top of his trousers, then dipped lower, barely brushing against his erection. “Are you so sure about that?”

His head dropped back against the wall and he swallowed so hard I could see his Adam’s apple give way. “Nope…”

I stuck my leg in between his, liking the extra height these heels gave me. It let me brush my knee against the undersides of his balls, and when I did that, he groaned and flexed his fingers on my hips. He curled them around my sides and cupped my butt, yanking me even closer.

Then he kissed me again, and I was lost.

He backed me toward the bed, his lips never breaking free of mine. As he kissed me, his mouth moving over mine with a hunger he seemed to have lost control of, his hands roamed under my dress, skimming the top of the thigh-highs Marie had insisted I wear tonight so “nothing would get in the way.”

She’d been right. That was an excellent move.

We fell back on the bed and I closed my legs around his waist, whimpering when he pressed against my core, rolling his hips ever so slowly. I tried not to focus on the fact that this would be the last time I’d get to have him like this for more than a month, but it was hard to do that when it’s all I could think about.

This whole scene was romantic and perfect.

But it was still a bittersweet goodbye, no matter how sweet it might be.

He slid his fingers in between my legs, tracing the line of the panties I wore before slipping underneath them. He ran his finger over me, breaking off the kiss. “That day you came over without wearing any of these? That was fucking hot. From now on, I’ll spend half my life trying to figure out if you’re wearing anything underneath your clothes, and the other half finding out.”

I scraped my nails down his back. “I’ll keep changing it up then, so you’ll never know.”

“Jesus, Ginger.” He nibbled on the side of my neck, then swirled his tongue over my pulse. “Are you trying to kill me?”

I shook my head. “Never that.”

First, I undid the top button of his shirt with trembling hands, then the next and the next. The whole time I undid his shirt, he kissed me. My neck. My shoulder. My jaw. Anywhere and everywhere that he could reach without moving, he did. I had my legs around his waist, holding him in place, so he only had so much to work with…but man, did he make it work.

“Ginger,” he murmured in my ear, rolling his tongue over my earlobe. “This strapless dress you’re wearing is perfect, and you look un-fucking-believably gorgeous in it, but it’s gotta fucking go.”

He tore free of my death grip and stood, urging me onto my stomach before I could so much as say get back here. He bit down on my shoulder and I groaned, gripping the comforter. His fingers found my zipper and he slid it down, slow and agonizing. He kept dropping kisses over my skin as he bared it, and it was driving me insane with want.

By the time he reached the bottom, I was quivering. He nipped the skin right over my butt, his teeth sinking in just enough to sting. “Finn.”

“Yeah, babe?” he asked, dropping to his knees behind me and shimmying the dress down to my feet. “You need something?”

“You.” I pressed my thighs together. “I need you.”

He skimmed his hands up the outside of my thighs, then kissed the same spot he’d bitten, only on the other side of my butt. He ran his fingers down the backs of my thighs…and back up again. “Soon, my love. But not yet.”

I shivered and buried my face in the mattress. How dare he ask me if I was trying to kill him? He was the one who was going to freaking kill me. He glided his fingers down my legs again, but this time he came up the insides. And when he reached the top, oh God, he finally gave me what I wanted.

He slipped his fingers between my legs, rubbing his thumb against my clit in slow circles. I whimpered and pressed back against him, wanting more. He flicked his tongue over the back of my thigh, quickening his strokes. I was so freaking close to what I wanted, but he stopped and stood up, leaving me high and dry.

“Finn.”

He undid his pants, let them hit the floor, and yanked his shirt over his head. “Don’t move a muscle. I’m not done with you yet. But first…” He opened the drawer by his bed and pulled out a condom. “We need one of these since we’re just practicing.”

I grinned and wiggled my butt. “Hurry up or I’ll get started without you.”

“Fuck yeah. Do it.”

My cheeks heated up. That had so been an empty threat. I hadn’t actually been planning on doing it. I couldn’t take it back now.

I rolled over and shot him a look that I hoped was more seductress than deer in headlights, and scooted back on the bed. When I was reclined against the pillows with nothing but my undergarments and a pair of heels on, I trailed my hand down my shoulder.

I felt stupid and ridiculous until I looked up at him and saw the way he stood there, his fists clenched and his gaze locked on my hand as it moved. Then I felt powerful. So freaking powerful. I bit down on my lip and moved my hand lower, tracing the curve of my breasts while he watched.

He ripped the condom open and pulled it out, his gaze latched on my hand as he did so. “Take off everything but the heels and the…” he said, his voice gruff. He gestured to my thigh-highs, “…the tights or whatever the fuck they’re called.”