WALKING THE LINE

Chapter 8

FINN

I whistled as we strolled from Maik's to the nearest taxi rank several blocks away.

Tonight had turned out better than I expected. Not only had Ellie preserved my crown jewels by not kneeing me for getting her to the bar under false pretenses, she'd stayed and we'd had a great dinner.

Though it wasn't the soft shell crab, coriander prawns, slow-cooked veal, hickory-smoked trout, pork belly in black vinegar, and thyme-infused peach sorbet that made the evening great so much as the way she'd unwound. For the first time in a week, I'd glimpsed the woman behind the crimson lipstick and gelled hair and overly made-up eyes.

Ellie loved junk food and old action movies and drinking coffee at Circular Quay on a Monday morning. She hated sports and politics and moths. And she adored city life in Sydney.

She'd been so animated at one point, she'd started spouting facts about the Cross like an encyclopedia and while I hadn't been particularly interested in learning the El Alamein Fountain's dandelion design done by a New Zealand architect had been copied around the world, I was riveted to her every word because she'd come alive.

Who knew the silent, truculent woman of the past week loved to talk, and our six courses flew by. During each and every one, I found myself falling under her spell.

What made Ellie more alluring was the fact she had no idea how goddamn gorgeous she was. Strip away the black leather and the plain singlet tops, the make-up and the chunky jewelry, and the invisible armor that she wore with pride, and Ellie was beautiful on the inside.

I wished I could articulate half of what I was feeling as we walked side by side, so I settled for entwining my fingers with hers instead.

She didn't pull away. In fact, she sidled closer, her hip bumping mine, making me a little crazy. Because while I'd been enthralled by her chatty side over dinner, it didn't stop me wanting to take her up against the nearest wall.

"What are you thinking?" she asked, glancing at me from the corner of her eye.

"You don't want to know," I said, my grip inadvertently tightening on her hand and she yelped.

"Sorry." I eased back on the grip and held her hand up, running my thumb over the thick silver band she wore on the middle finger of her left hand. "Did you know this design looks Celtic?"

"Hmm," she mumbled and removed her hand quickly, like she didn't want me studying the ring any closer. Interesting.

"You always wear it. Sentimental value?"

She gnawed on her bottom lip and damned if I didn't get a boner that made me lightheaded, that much blood drained south.

"Something like that," she said, looking increasingly uncomfortable.

"From an old boyfriend?" I persisted, needing to distract myself from the increasing urge to push up against her and let her feel exactly what affect she had on me.

"To forget an old boyfriend," she muttered, shaking her head, sadness down-turning her mouth as I inwardly cursed for putting a dampener on this evening when things had been going so well.

Needing to get us back onto more stable ground, I captured her chin in my hand and raised it, so she had no option but to look at me. "I can think of better ways to help you forget."

My implication clear, she stared at me for an eternity, her expression unreadable in the darkness cast by the alley behind me.

When the silence reached uncomfortable, she did the unthinkable.

Splayed both palms on my chest.

Pushed me backwards.

Slammed her mouth on mine.

My back hit the wall but the pain ricocheting down my spine was quickly replaced by a fireball of lust so swift, so overpowering, I almost staggered.

My hands spanned her waist and held her tight as we kissed like two people who hadn't done this in a long time. Passionate. Desperate. Frantic. Her pelvis grinding against mine. My cock straining. My balls aching for release.

She hooked a leg around my waist and I slid my hand between us. Wished she didn't wear leather. Because as I pressed against her clit through the layers, she growled, a purely primitive sound that made me want to fuck her right here, right now.

Wrenching my mouth from hers was the hardest thing I'd ever done. "Need to get home. Now."

As the madness of the moment passed, I expected her to pass off what had just happened as an aberration, something that could never happen again.

To my immense relief, she nodded. "Let's go."

I didn't need to be asked twice.