Candy Hearts, Vol. 2

Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

FINN

To say that Lou’s words are unexpected is the understatement of the century. He’s given me the impression so far that he’s not one to throw statements like that out there, but that still doesn’t excuse my very poor reaction.

“Huh?” I ask.

I know my face is scrunched up in confusion, and I realize the second his face falls that it was the shittiest way to react.

“Wait,” I shout urgently, walking the last step toward him and holding both hands up. “I’m all for it, like seriously.” I try to convey how much I do want to have sex with him by opening my eyes as wide as they will go. “I just wasn’t expecting you to say it like that.”

“I can be very demanding when I want something,” he says, just primly enough to make me smile like a lunatic at him.

“I like that.” I really, really do.

“So, yeah?” he asks, looking up at me with hopeful eyes.

I take a tiny step closer so we’re chest to chest, and cup his cheeks to tilt his head back. I capture his lower lip between my own and drag it away slowly until it pops back.

“Yeah,” I murmur.

“I don’t like topping,” he says suddenly, and I can’t help but chuckle.

“That’s perfect,” I whisper and kiss his cheek.

“And I’m not the most adventurous in the bedroom,” he goes on while I trail my mouth down to his jaw and get to work on lifting his sweater. “I like blow jobs, though. Giving and receiving.”

“You sound like me,” I say, teasing.

“What do you mean?” he asks the second after I lick just below his ear. He sounds breathless already and that’s definitely what I need.

“You’re rambling,” I explain, a smile permanently etched on my face even though I’m practically bent in half. “Are you sure?” I think to ask, and straighten. The relief on my back is instant.

“Yes, are you?” he demands, frowning.

I guess I didn’t hide my wince at all.

“It’s just my back. Don’t worry about it.”

Lou just stares at me for a long moment, then chucks off his sweater and shirt in one single move and falls back on the bed.

I laugh, delighted.

“This way we’re the same height, so come down here.” He speaks through a smile as big as mine and damn, I’m already having a good time.

I go to take another step but think better of it and take my phone out instead.

“What are you doing?” Lou asks.

“Just texting Beau that I’m staying here. Wait.” I look away from the screen and up at him. “Do you want me to stay the?—”

“Yes,” he says loudly again, and this time it’s him laughing. “Yes, I do want you to stay.”

“Good, then.” I nod and go back to writing the text. “This time I can stay in your bed, not only invited but with you in it too,” I mumble, and smile when I hear him chuckle again.

I put my phone back in my pocket and toe off my shoes while I reach for the hem of my shirt. When the fabric is over my head and I can feast my eyes on Lou’s creamy skin again, I see he’s staring at me... almost looking mad.

“Seriously?” he demands. “What are you the accountant of, a gym ?” The question is more a screech by the end and I think it’s a compliment?

“No. I’m an accountant for all kinds of people, but my uncle and I have our own business, we don’t work for a company at?—”

“Shut up,” he mutters and pushes up from the mattress only to sit on the edge and lean in until his nose almost touches my belly. “You have actual abs,” he whispers.

“Oh, yes,” I nod, still thinking that this is probably a good thing. “I work out with Beau and he’s a beast so?—”

“I wanna lick them,” he mumbles and startles a cackle out of me. “Go ahead, cutie.” With that I step around him, and throw myself onto the mattress and bounce on my back.

“Are you one of those people who always want to bring the new people in their lives to the gym, or to exercise in general?” he asks, not moving to come closer but twisting his torso to look back at me.

“No,” I tell him, amused.

“Okay, then this still has a shot of working even though you clearly are the Italian god I mistook you for last night.”

“Italian god, huh?” I ask softly and beckon him to come closer with two fingers.

He complies, crawling to me. Lou straddles my hips and then slams his kiss down on mine, hard but oh-so good. I open for him and get to work on taking his pants off as he starts undoing the button of my jeans.

We end up naked without stopping the kiss, and again, he very quickly moves away and I have to take a second to reorient myself.

“Supplies,” he mumbles, and scrambles away to open the closet doors where his suitcase is. Then I lose all train of thought because ... well, his ass is right there , bouncing and stretching as he looks all over the place.

After three minutes, though, he lets out a very frustrated sigh and turns to look at me.

“I don’t have any condoms.” He sounds dejected and ... resigned.

“Uh.” I stall, not knowing exactly what’s wrong. I mean, I know that we can’t have penetrative sex without a condom, I’m not irresponsible and I’m pretty sure Lou isn’t either, but why does he look so... I don’t know, sad? “Do you have lube?” I ask, trying to not only bring back the mood, but make him smile.

“Yeah,” he says lamely, looking down at his feet.

“Lou,” I call out so he’ll bless me with those green-gray eyes of his. I only keep talking once he does. “We can do a lot of other things besides penetrative sex. Things I’m just as excited about doing with you as I am about fucking you. Also, I have an emergency condom in my wallet. Why did you react like that?” I can’t stop myself from asking even though I already got the smile I was hoping for.

That question makes his smile disappear and his shoulders sag with a sigh.

“You don’t wanna know. Let’s just get back to where we were before.” He brings a knee up to the mattress with the lube in his hand, and I take it and drag him until he’s lying on top of me, chest to chest, nose to nose.

“We’ll get back to that, no question about it, but please tell me?” I beg. “I feel like I did something wrong, or like you’re uncomfortable with me now. Please tell me so I can fix it.”

“Damn you,” he mutters but his eyes soften. “All right, but promise me we’re still going to have sex after please?” Now he’s the one begging, and I don’t mind the look on him at all.

“Promise,” I whisper. And it’s possibly the easiest promise I’ve ever made.