Page 6 of Late Night Talking
“Then can you please call Angelica and tell her that Devin Scott is outside and would like to be let in?”
The muscles in his jaw shift back and forth as he thinks, and then he turns away from me, speaking as quietly as he can manage into a radio that he pulls off a holder on his belt. There’s a line forming behind me of people who are elegantly dressed and ready to be let into the building, but I don’t care. I wait for the bouncer to step back over to me, his shoes that probably cost as much as my rent grating across the concrete.
“Go on in,” the bouncer says, moving out of the way and gesturing toward the door.
For a brief second, once I’ve pushed into the room, with its lavish gold carpets and chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, I regret not changing before I came over, but I didn’t want to take the time. I just wanted to be here already.
When I make it to the front desk, Angelica—petite, Black, and gorgeous—grins at me. Angelica might look like a cupcake, but I’ve seen her put men twice her size in their place. “It’s really you!” she says, leaning across the counter to kiss me on the cheek. “I seriously thought some other woman named Devin Scott was going to push her way in here.” Her eyes dip to my outfit. “He said you were dressed like a homeless person, and he wasn’t entirely wrong.”
I roll my eyes. People who spend all day in expensive hotels like this one think that this is how everyone lives. “Nice to see you, too. Look, is Finn here?”
She shakes her head, and all of the joy seems to slowly seep out of her. “No, but he said that if you came by, I should call him to let him know you’re here. So, why don’t I do that?”
My stomach is all in knots, and I don’t have a chance to answer her before she’s got the phone to her ear. Twice tonight Finn has been on the other side of someone’s phone, and on instinct, I look at my own phone in my hand. I changed my number and so did he. He’s not going to be texting or calling me anytime soon.
“Yes, sir,” Angelica says into the phone. “Yes, of course. I’ll tell her not to go anywhere.” She hangs up and smiles at me. “Mr. Casey is on his way. He says he’ll be here in five.”
Maybe I should find that reassuring, but instead, I just find it terrifying, like Death himself is grabbing his scythe and coming for me. But I’ve made up my mind. I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t. I don’t know exactly what I’m going to do with Ethan; but I know exactly what I want to do with Finn.
“I was really sorry to hear that the two of you broke up,” Angelica says, nervously fiddling with one of the buttons on her vest. “You made him really happy.” Her eyes go over my shoulder, and she nods at someone before turning back to me and saying, “Mr. Casey is waiting outside for you.”
I really, really wish I had changed. But I know Finn doesn’t care. He’s seen me in everything from a ballgown to my bare skin. He knows how many pairs of jeans I have and how quickly I change into pajamas as soon as I’m home from Lilac. I go back the way I came, out the elaborate double doors at the front of the building, and there he is, dressed all in black, his hands in his pockets as he leans against his car, parked at the curb.
He lifts his head, and even in the shadow of this Las Vegas street corner, I can see the shine of his blue eyes, and I’m hit with the realization that this is all real. Finn is really back, and I’m really walking toward him, and I’m really going to take him home.
When we’re a foot from each other, I realize I’m gasping for air like I’m trying to catch my breath. Finn watches me, his face vacant, waiting for me to say something, maybe to tell him why I showed up at his casino so late at night, when I’m supposed to be out with my boyfriend.
“My place is right around the corner,” I tell him in lieu of anything else, because, in my mind, right this second, this is the most important thing.
I see Finn’s jaw tighten, and then he steps aside, opens the passenger door, and says, “Get in the car.”
Chapter Five
Bonnie is already gone by the time we get back to the apartment, which is a good thing. I know Bonnie will support me in whatever choices I make for my romantic relationships, but I also know she likes Finn. She always has. And I don’t need her to weigh in on this moment any more than she already has, especially not when I’m feeling guilty. I should have broken it off with Ethan before I came here. I know what I’m doing is definitely cheating, but I don’t have it in me to care.
“Can I get you anything to drink?”
Finn follows me into my small kitchen. “No, thank you.”
I already know he’s been drinking. I could smell it on his breath as soon as we got in the car together, but Finn rarely drinks enough to get drunk. He likes to be sharp. I reach for a wine glass, thinking maybe I need the fortification, and out of the corner of my eye, I see Finn lift a cigarette to his mouth. I lunge toward him, taking the cigarette out of his mouth before he can light it.
I hold it between my thumb and forefinger. “You can’t smoke this in here. Bonnie would kill me.”
Finn’s eyes are wide, and I think I might have actually caught him off guard. I don’t mind the smoking, so why would he have expected me to stop him? Like he’s trying to return the favor, he grabs my wrist so that I drop the cigarette, leans down, and sucks my index finger into his mouth. I gasp, and before I’ve even gotten enough air in my lungs, his mouth is on mine. He shoves his hands into my hair and licks into my mouth, and I feel like I’m breathing him in, absorbing him into me.
“Bedroom,” I push away to gasp. “Now.”
He tightens his grip on me like he’s going to ignore my request, but then he pulls away. He reaches down for my hand, pulling me in the direction of the hallway, like this is his home instead of mine. He stops at Bonnie’s door and raises an eyebrow at me, but I shake my head.
“It’s the one at the end of the hall.”
My door is halfway open, and in one quick movement, Finn shoves it open and then picks me up and throws me on the bed. I know he doesn’t mean for this to be funny, but I’m suddenly hit with a wave of joy, and I laugh, something that bubbles up from inside me.
He covers me with his body, and even though he’s not smiling—Finn never smiles—I see that light in his eyes that tells me he’s enjoying himself. He reaches up and curls his fingers around my jaw, holding my face still. “You’re laughing as if you haven’t figured out yet that I’m about to make you beg for mercy.”
Everything in me tightens. I know exactly what it looks like when Finn wants me to beg, and I’m always more than willing to oblige him. I push up and run the tip of my tongue from his bottom lip to his top. “Make me beg, Daddy.”
His pupils blow wide, and it makes me want to smile with glee. I love this version of Finn. I love it when I find just the right thing to crack him open. It feels like winning. He rips at my clothes, and I help him, struggling out of my top and out of my bra as he pulls my pants down my legs. I reach for his tie, fully intending to get him as naked as I am now, but he stops me, pushing me down onto the mattress and reaching up to undo the tie himself.
