Finn picked up his glass of whiskey and took a nice, long draw off the rim. He relished the burn as the liquid hit his belly, and thank fuck for good liquor.

“What do you mean, Babineaux’s still playing hardball?” he grated, pushing up from the sofa to pace a swift circuit through the living room in January’s condo. He’d had the place to himself ever since she’d (begrudgingly) left for work five hours ago, which as it turned out was just as well. At least she wasn’t here to witness Finn’s suddenly surly mood or the rare but warranted day drinking he’d started doing the minute he’d seen Marty’s text saying they needed to talk.

“I mean exactly that,” Marty said, a surprisingly apologetic tone laced over his answer. “He’s been dodging my calls since our last meeting. Although with how quickly we rejected his lowball offer, I can’t say I’m all that surprised.”

Adrenaline combined with the irritation already free-flowing through Finn’s veins, and the combination did nothing to lower his normally stellar blood pressure. “Babineaux has been jerking me around with slow responses and shitty offers for nearly three weeks now, Marty. I’m starting to lose my patience.”

“Sadly, kid, I think that’s what he wants. Smug son of a bitch,” Marty added, showing off some irritation of his own. “But rumor has it that on top of being a sanctimonious prick, he’s also not exactly thrilled with your extracurricular work over there in North Carolina.”

Finn threw back the rest of the whiskey in his glass, middle of the day be damned. “I’m not exactly wasting my time with a bunch of hookers and blow over here. I spent a couple weeks fixing my old man’s house up to put it on the market. The realtor listed the place today, for Chrissake.”

With the help of everyone from Station Seventeen, he’d been able to get the repairs done nearly a whole week ahead of schedule. Not that anything Finn did on his own time was any of Babineaux’s business—as long as it was legal, anyway.

“Right.” Marty cleared his throat. “Actually, I was talking about the fundraiser thing you’re doing for the fire department.”

Finn laughed for a full five seconds until he realized his agent wasn’t sharing the sentiment. “Seriously? Babineuax’s got to be a special sort of jackass to take exception to his players doing charity work. Especially on their own time.”

“I’m not denying the guy’s a douche bag,” Marty said. “But from a purely business standpoint…the PR you’re doing might be for a good cause, but it’s not for a good cause in New Orleans.”

Oh for the love of… “These guys are firefighters, Marty. They run into all the places everyone else runs out of, which means they deserve decent gear no matter where they suit up. And anyway, Remington’s my hometown.”

The silent hum on the other end of the phone line told Finn in no uncertain terms that he wasn’t going to like what came next, and Marty’s next words definitely held up that end of the bargain.

“Maybe, but it’s a hometown you denied even having until a handful of weeks ago, Donnelly. Look, I’m all for this fundraiser. I really am. But you didn’t do a breath of PR for the Rage when you had the Cup three weeks ago, and believe me when I tell you, you’re the only guy on the team who’s kept that thing on the down low. Now you’re making news outlets by asking your teammates to participate in a charity event that isn’t for the home-team community. On top of the high-dollar deal you’re asking for and the fact that Babineaux has decided to dig his heels in…this deal is just a really hard sell right now.”

Finn hauled in a deep breath, walking his empty glass to the sink in January’s kitchen before trusting himself to answer. “I outscored nearly all the centers in the goddamn league this season, and I haven’t even reached my prime. There’s no good reason for Babineaux to hold out this long on a deal we all know I deserve. Not one.”

“That may be true, but it doesn’t change the fact that he can, and he is,” Marty said quietly. “I know you said you don’t want to go this way, but I think we should reconsider a different—”

“No.” Okay, so cutting the guy off had been a little harsh, especially since Marty was on Finn’s side. But he’d earned this deal in New Orleans. He’d busted his ass for it for three long years.

Unless maybe he wasn’t the player he thought he was. The player Asher had thought he was.

“Finn.” Despite Marty’s still-soft tone, the word brought him back to reality with a startling slap. “You should know that the Charlotte Rogues have made you an offer.”

His pulse pounded so hard that for just a second, all he could hear was the white noise of his blood pressing against his eardrums. “What?”

“I didn’t lead with it because the offer isn’t as competitive as what you’re asking for from the Rage. In fact, it’s not even close.” Before Finn could argue, or even get in a word edgewise, Marty added, “It’s quite a bit more than you’re making now, though, and there are some incentive options that could bump the number up significantly.”

“Give me facts, Marty. How much are we talking about?”

As soon as Marty answered, Finn wished he hadn’t asked.

“No.” He jammed a hand through his hair before pacing back over to the sofa. The deal had to be better than that. He’d worked too fucking hard for anything else. “Babineaux’s just got his shit in a twist because he hates to lose. Once he sees the great PR this fundraiser will give the Rage as a team and he realizes how big of a hit he’ll take without those forty-six goals I scored this season, he’ll fold.”

“As your agent, I’ll do what you tell me to,” Marty said, and the lack of hesitation in his voice marked the words as true. “As someone who knows you better than most, I feel compelled to point out that you don’t seem unhappy over there in Remington. So I’ve got to ask. Are you sure this is what you want to do?”

No. Yes. No. Finn looked around January’s condo, and for the first time, he wasn’t sure of his answer. But Christ, he’d thrown everything he’d had at being the Rage’s star center for the last three years. He’d earned every single thing he was asking for.

He had to be the player he thought he was.

“Yes.” Finn straightened his spine, his shoulders locking into place. “I’m one hundred percent sure.”

But the second he ended the call, he headed for the door.

* * *

“Hey, J! I found this guy loitering out front. He says he’s with you.”

January looked up from the stack of paperwork on her desk, her surprise at Kellan’s words quickly turning into a shot of pure happiness at the sight of Finn standing next to him in the space leading in from Station Seventeen’s main hallway.

“Hey! Oh my God, what are you doing here?” Work forgotten, she stood to clack-clack her way over the linoleum, giving her next thought an immediate voice. “And more to the point, how did you get here?”

“I came to see you,” Finn said, hitching one shoulder in a brief shrug before lifting his chin in thanks at Kellan, who gave them both a mock salute before slipping out the door. “Thought I’d work in a run while I was at it.”

She realized, just a beat too late, obviously, that Finn was decked out in a snug-fitting compression T-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts, and wait… “My condo is almost eight miles from here and it’s got to be, what”—she paused to look at the window behind him, through which the sun was shining like crazy—“ninety-two degrees outside?”

“I don’t mind the heat. Anyway, the off-season doesn’t last forever. I’ve got to stay on top of my workouts.”

He capped his answer with another shrug, this one even more haphazard than the last, and the gesture stirred something odd in January’s gut.

She tipped her head to look at Finn more closely, proceeding with care, but proceeding nonetheless. “That ice time you logged with Alec and Trey at the Rogues’ facility yesterday wasn’t enough for you?”

After he’d reached out to his old buddies to ask them to attend the fundraiser, they’d been all too happy to invite him out to the Liberty Center for some drills. Three hours’ worth, to be exact. The thought of it alone had turned January’s legs into Jell-O, but Finn had been so jacked up afterwards, telling her story after story of the time he’d spent with both guys in the minor leagues and actually admitting that the Rogues’ facility was state-of-the-art. The grueling physical exertion hadn’t put so much as a dent in his upbeat mood.

Unlike whatever was bothering him now.

“Yesterday’s workout was okay, I guess, but I really should be stepping up my game,” Finn said with all the enthusiasm one might reserve for a root canal, and yep, her red flags were officially whipping in the wind.

Time to cut to the chase. “Okay, what’s bugging you? Because last night you were nine kinds of happy at having finished your dad’s house and gotten back on the ice for some practice, and now you look pissed enough to spit venom.”

Finn’s muscles tensed, his mouth flattening into a hard line before he let out a breath in defeat. “I’m sorry. I’m an ass. I got crappy news from my agent about this new contract, and…I just wanted to come out here and see you. That’s all.”

January’s jaw unhinged. “You ran eight miles because you had a shit day and wanted to see me?”

“When you put it that way it sounds…” He trailed off, a laugh crossing his lips in a soft, self-deprecating huff. “Like the truth. Yeah, I had a shit day and I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” she said. Now that she heard the words out loud, she realized how much she meant them, and how little time she and Finn had left together before he’d go back to New Orleans, and she didn’t think. Just moved.

“What are you doing?” Finn asked, his dark brows creasing in confusion as he stepped back to look at her.

But God, she was so far from being confused. In fact, she was one million percent certain as she walked back to her desk and scooped up her laptop bag from its spot beside her chair.

“I’m taking off early. Now did you want a ride, or are you going to run back to my place and meet me there?”

Finn’s surprised nod paved the way for his reply. “Sure. A ride would be great.”

Falling into step beside her, he offered up a polite greeting to Captain Bridges as she made triple sure he’d be set for the rest of the afternoon without her, then some decidedly less formal ‘see ya later’s to all the firefighters and paramedics on A-shift as they made their way out the firehouse door. The drive back to her condo was as swift as it was uneventful, and January grinned as she tossed her keys to the side table and lowered her laptop bag next to them.

“Taking off early feels a little decadent. I like it.” She kicked out of her heels, and oooh, even better.

Finn looked at her from a few feet away, his expression impossible to read. “You didn’t have to leave work early, you know.” Emotion flickered through his stare, gone before she could label it, and something strong and deep and reckless made her close the space between them.

“I do know. But it’s Friday afternoon. The fundraiser is a week from tomorrow, and the planning is nearly all done. Plus”—her heart squeezed, but still, she held on to his gaze—“you missed me and I missed you.”

“I did miss you,” he said, his voice as quiet and rough around the edges as the rest of him.

January reached out, brushing her fingers over his. “Do you want to talk about the phone call with your agent?”

“No.” Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her close, his eyes darkening with enough intensity to send a provocative thrill all the way through her. “I don’t want to talk about the phone call with my agent. In fact, I don’t want to talk about anything. Right now, all I want is you.”

Finn leaned in, pressing his lips over hers. But where most of their other kisses were hard and hot and full of urgency, this one shocked her with its softness. He increased the pressure between their mouths in a slow sweep, tasting and testing as if he wanted to memorize every part of her. His tongue slid over her bottom lip, tracing the sensitive skin there for a long, languid minute before pushing past the threshold of her mouth.

But still, Finn didn’t rush. He explored in gentle licks and firmer strokes, finding the corners of her mouth, the spot where her top lip dipped slightly in the center, the very tip of her tongue. Each movement was so focused that January had no choice but to feel it without distraction, until finally, Finn pulled back to look at her.

“I really need a shower,” he said apologetically, but rather than stepping back to let him move down the hallway for a lightning-fast date with the spray and the soap, January turned on her heel and led the way to the bathroom.

“What are you doing?” Finn asked, his mahogany-colored brows lifting as she reached past the glass of the shower door to turn the water on.

“Well, I know it’s not the Plaza. But I’m pretty sure we’ll both fit in here, and since I’m suddenly feeling dirty, I thought we could just shower together.”

“Did you.” From his stare to his voice, nothing about the words was a question. A shiver rippled over her in response, making her breath catch and her nipples bead beneath her button-down blouse.

“I did.”

“Hmm.” He moved toward her until less than an arm’s length separated their bodies, and oh God, her heart was pounding so fast and so hard, surely Finn heard it. “Well,” he said, his gaze raking over her like a touch. “I guess if you’re feeling dirty, we should do something about that.”

January’s fingers trembled with anticipation as she reached up to unbutton her blouse.

Only Finn got there first.

“No.” The word pinned her into place, every last part of her aching to be touched. Licked. Taken. Slowly, his hands moved over the buttons, freeing them one by one from their moorings in the pale pink fabric of her top. He let the material hang loosely from her shoulders, but only for a second before sliding it free, then repeating his motions with her skirt.

A sound of approval rode past Finn’s lips, primal and hot. “So pretty. Christ, you’re so fucking perfect.”

January was tempted to laugh at the overstatement. But as his eyes took in every inch of her, from her pale pink bra and panties to the darker pink flush of want on her skin, all she could do was believe him.

“Finnegan.”

The whisper seemed to hone his focus. With a few economical moves, her bra and panties found the bath mat beneath her feet, and Finn’s arms circled around her rib cage as he kissed her again. January tightened her grasp on his shoulders, her fingers moving over the slippery nylon of his workout gear to create friction with the sexy, corded muscles beneath, and oh God, she couldn’t wait. Reaching down low, she gripped the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head.

“Oh.” Desire shot through her belly, arrowing a path to her clit. How ironic that he’d been the one to call her perfect when he stood in front of her looking so utterly flawless. His chiseled shoulders led to the flat plane of his chest, his small, flat nipples standing out in relief against smooth skin. The trail of dark hair leading between the sharp, muscular V of his hips made January’s breath jump in her throat.

The sight of his cock, fully erect and pressing against the fabric of his shorts? That turned her desire into full-blown need.

In as few movements as possible, she removed the rest of Finn’s clothes and led him into the shower spray. The water slid over them in a hot, steady stream that heightened her arousal. Curling her fingers over his biceps, January swung him around until his shoulder blades met the tiled side wall of the shower.

“January,” he started, his muscles flexing under her fingertips as she reached for the soap and began to slide it over his skin.

“Shh.” An odd, empowering rush pulsed through her veins, and she gave up a naughty smile to match it. To her surprise, Finn acquiesced, his stare glinting through the steam as it followed her fingers over his body.

January dropped her chin, watching too. The bubbles built to a quick lather as she washed his body, her hands coasting over first his arms, then his shoulders and chest. Finn let go of a moan when she got to his hips, then another when her fingers spread over his powerfully muscled thighs, but the sound in his throat became a huff of surprise when she wrapped her hands around his waist and turned him to face the shower-slicked tiles.

“Back too,” she murmured. Spreading the soap across his shoulders, she worked her way over the back of his body, selfishly cupping the strong, solid curve of his ass before slipping her hands around to the front of his hips.

“Oh, fuck.” The words fell past Finn’s lips with all the reverence of a prayer. “God, baby. Please.”

“Just tell me what you want, Finn. Tell me, and I’ll do it.”

His entire body tensed under her touch. January willed her fingers to stillness on the points of his hip bones, waiting, wanting, until he did what she’d asked.

“I want your hands on my cock. Just like this, so I can watch.”

Wetness that had nothing to do with the steam or the shower bloomed between her legs, and she complied in an instant. Pressing her chest against his back, she circled her fingers around his cock, moving them in a slow glide. Finn sucked in a breath, releasing it on a harsh exhale before thrusting his hips in time with the rhythm of her hand. He dipped his chin toward his chest, and even though January couldn’t see him watching, the thought of it made her sex clench with need.

“Ah,” he grunted, his voice thick with lust. “Like that, yeah. Slow and hard.”

She kept to her promise, touching him exactly the way he asked her to, stroking and gripping and pumping until his fingers curled into the shower tiles and he bit out a curse, dark and dangerous.

“Christ, you make me crazy and sane all at once.”

At her gasp in reply, Finn’s body shifted. “Does that turn you on?” he asked, his back still to her. “Knowing how fucking hot I am for you right now?”

“Yes,” January whispered.

“You’re wet just thinking about it, aren’t you.”

It was all statement, but she answered anyway. “Yes.”

“Then touch yourself.”

The command knocked the breath directly from her lungs. Her shock must have translated, because Finn reached down to grasp the fingers on her free hand, pressing them between her trembling thighs.

“Do it,” he said. “Touch that perfect, wet pussy while you stroke my cock. And don’t stop until you come.”

Pleasure unfolded in January’s belly, forbidden and scorching hot, and she didn’t hesitate. Parting her feet on the porcelain, she curled her fingers, letting them brush lightly over her sex. Her heart slammed at the barely there contact, her throbbing clit begging for more. But Finn had said not to stop, and oh God, oh God, she couldn’t deny the truth.

She didn’t want to stop. Ever.

“Finn.”

Under the circumstances, the single syllable was all she could muster. But it seemed to be everything he wanted, because his cock jerked against the hot press of her hand.

“Yes. Fuck, yes, baby. Let me hear you. Tell me how good it feels.”

January did. Unabashedly, she moved her fingers deeper, circling them over her clit in fast, hard sweeps, moaning at every sensation. Pleasure burst through her body, persistent and greedy, but she didn’t stop. With one hand working his cock and the other buried where she needed it most, she stroked and rocked and thrust, until finally—finally—the edge of release reared up from the sweet spot between her legs.

“Finn. Oh God, I—”

Her orgasm took hold of everything, crashing into her in breath-grabbing waves. Finn turned, breaking her hold on his body and pressing his hand over hers, holding her close as her release sharpened her moans into cries. The spray of the shower rained down around them both, and finally, after a long, hazy minute, January came back to her mind. Finn let her go, but only to open the shower door and silently guide her out of the water. She didn’t argue—didn’t care that the water was still running or that they were drenched.

The only thing she cared about was having Finn inside her.

Hard and fast and right this minute.

Finn led her into her room and over to the bed, which was still unmade from this morning. He’d been staying with her for weeks—the expense of the Plaza had seemed dumb when they’d been spending every minute together anyway—and his things mingled in with hers, a T-shirt here, a pair of running shoes there. He stretched over the bed, bringing January with him, and God, his tan skin and sculpted muscles looked so provocatively sexy against her snowy white bedsheets.

“Come here.” The demand was soft, but she was helpless against it anyway. She slid beneath Finn’s body, his hands bracketing her shoulders and her legs falling open so he could settle himself between them. But rather than grabbing a condom and fucking her senseless like she so desperately wanted him to, he leaned in to kiss her. The brush of his mouth was shockingly gentle, and January’s heart tripped in her chest.

Finn kissed her slowly, as if he had all the time in the universe to do nothing else, coaxing her lips apart, laving attention everywhere. His mouth lowered to her neck, to her collarbone and the tops of her breasts, tasting everything. Her nipples hardened, aching for his focus, and oh, he didn’t disappoint. January gasped as he drew one beaded tip past his lips, swirling and sucking until she was certain she’d die or scream or come right there on the spot. She reached between them, closing her fingers over his cock, her desire spiking at the way his body tightened in response.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, his gaze full of intensity as he shifted his body up to look at her. “I should’ve told you seven years ago. I should’ve been telling you every day between then and now how fucking gorgeous you are.”

January’s heart thrummed in time with the heat in her blood. “Show me, Finn. Show me now.”

He didn’t wait—didn’t even seem to think. The briefest of movements had a condom out of her bedside table drawer and in his hand, one more had it in place. Sliding his cock over her folds, he tested her body just once before filling her pussy in one slow, deep stroke.

“Oh God.” Her voice twined around Finn’s, who had uttered the same exact words. Her breath stood still in her throat, her brain racing to keep up with the sensations in her body—the full, sweet pressure between her legs, the involuntary clench of her inner muscles, the slam of her pulse at her throat. Finn withdrew slightly, thrusting back into her with intention, then repeating the motion again and again. January lifted her hips to meet each of his thrusts, rocking against him in return, and together they created a rhythm both carnal and intimate.

Release built at the base of her spine, and when Finn slipped his hand into the slight space between them to bury his thumb against her clit, she was lost. She broke apart beneath him, trembling and thrusting and crying out. Levering his hips against hers until no space remained, he shifted to his knees, wrapping his fingers around her hips and holding her wide as he filled her without remorse. The change in angle drew her orgasm out farther, and with one final, balls-deep thrust, Finn joined her in release.

They lay together for a minute, chests heaving and bodies loose. Eventually, Finn slipped to the bathroom, then came back with a towel for her wet hair. They went through the normal motions of drying off, getting dressed, and padding to the living room to settle in on the couch together. But January didn’t feel normal in any way, because she was falling in love with Finn.

And in eight days, he was leaving the place she’d always called home.