Charmer (Havenbrook #1)

Chapter 30

CHAPTER THIRTY

WILLOW

It’d been a long time since I had made the trek to my childhood tree house. Truth be told, I had no idea what kind of shape it was even in. It’d been years since I’d been back. It’d just been too difficult, climbing up there and being immersed in the kind of memories Finn and I had made there once upon a time.

But I also knew I needed to extend an olive branch, and I figured this was the best way to do it. I’d screwed up with him that afternoon. He was trying, attempting to prove himself to me all over again, and I needed to give him credit for it instead of biting his head off for doing something nice for me.

I’d really felt like an ass when Avery had done some sleuthing and found out it hadn’t even been Finn who’d placed the flower order, but Nola. If any of the Havenbrook busybodies found out that tidbit, it’d be easy enough to brush off as a thank-you gift for all of my help in dealing with the red tape surrounding the bar renovation.

So Finn had taken my reservations into account and had found a way to work around them. And I had spat all over his gift. A gift that, as I’d had time to gain some perspective on the situation, meant the world to me.

He’d thought enough of me to let me know I was on his mind, and he’d done so with my favorite flowers. Which I knew for a fact I hadn’t mentioned since he’d been back. He was trying to prove himself to me every day, and it was time I got out of my own way.

Besides that, Avery had been right—I was a grown-ass woman, and it was about damn time I started caring less about what my daddy thought and more about what I actually wanted.

Dusk had settled in fast, and while there wasn’t much to be scared of in good old Havenbrook, and even less on my family’s acreage, I still walked a little faster as I hurried toward my destination, my phone’s flashlight guiding my path. Our daddy’d had the tree house built when I had been only three—too young to go in it then. It perched in a thicket of trees, far enough away from the main house that me and my sisters had always felt a sense of independence whenever we’d played there.

Although considering what Finn and I had gotten up to in there, perhaps building it such a distance from the house hadn’t been my daddy’s brightest idea. Even before Finn and I had slept together, we’d done everything-but enough times to lose count, all in that hidden-away place in the trees.

But that night… I smiled to myself, the memory sitting bittersweet in my chest. I’d been scared and nervous, but he’d been so gentle. So giving. So loving. He’d made me come twice before he’d even slid inside me, just to make sure it was good for me.

At the time, I’d thought we had the world at our feet—that we’d go off to college in Nashville, start a life together.

Days later, he’d been gone.

I shook away the memory as I tucked my phone into my pocket and climbed the ladder into the tree house. Finn had only sent me a short I’ll be there response, so I couldn’t even begin to guess what his reaction to my apology was going to be. For all I knew, he was going to tell me to take a hike. That this, as fun as it’d been, was over. That it was too big of a hassle to continue with anyway, given he was leaving soon.

The thought pierced my chest, leaving a hollow ache in my heart.

But I wasn’t going to think about that now. Him leaving had been a foregone conclusion. Our relationship would end the same as before. The only difference was, this time, I’d gone into it with my eyes wide open. When my heart broke again, I’d have no one to blame but myself.

As soon as my head crested the tree house floor, I looked up and gasped. Inside was a fairy wonderland. Hundreds of white twinkling lights draped down from the peaked ceiling before flowing down the walls and bordering the windows. Lush pillows and blankets covered every square inch of the floor. In the center of the space sat a picnic basket with a bottle of wine and two glasses.

And in the corner stood Finn. “Hey.”

I climbed the rest of the way, not able to stop gawking at what he’d done. There was no way this space had been in any semblance of decency as of this afternoon. As far as I knew, no one used it anymore—me and my sisters were too old, and Rory’s kids were too busy with their twelve-thousand extracurricular activities to ever take advantage of it.

“What—when…” I shook my head then locked my eyes with Finn. “Why did you do this?”

His long legs ate up the space between us, and then he stood in front of me, his body heat seeping into my bones. He reached out and linked our fingers together, resting his other hand on the curve of my neck. “I was an ass.”

“You— what ? No, I was the ass. You did something lovely, and I threw it back in your face. I’m sorry.”

He was shaking his head before I’d even finished speaking. “Don’t steal my thunder, Willowtree. It’ll screw with my seduction plan.”

I laughed, my head tipped back as warmth filled my chest. I felt…content. For the first time in so long, I was happy. As much as the lead-up to the Fourth of July parade depleted my energy, I loved that part of my job. Like the entire town was my canvas—a living, breathing creation. On top of that, my daddy had finally started to see my worth, I was getting along with all my sisters, and my love life wasn’t a pile of ash like it’d been for so long.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Finn brushed his thumb down the column of my neck, his breath warm on my lips. And then he dipped lower, bringing our mouths together.

I sighed into his mouth, loving how seamlessly we fit. How he knew exactly where to touch me, exactly the speed to go, exactly the words to whisper to make me melt into a boneless puddle of need at his feet. That wasn’t something you could teach, something that developed after years of intimacy—it just was. Pure, raw chemistry.

And we had it in spades.

“You hungry?” His words rumbled against my neck as he rained kisses there, punctuating them with licks and nips with his teeth.

“Not for food.”

He groaned, the vibration sending a shiver down my neck and shooting straight to my nipples. They hardened beneath my tank top, ached for his hands or his mouth or both.

“You’re making it damn difficult to give you the romantic replay of that night—the one you deserved that I couldn’t give you then.”

I pulled back and cupped his face, the couple days’ worth of scruff scratchy against my fingertips. “You can romance the hell out of me. After.”

He placed his hand on the small of my back, pulling me in until our bodies were flush. Pressing me against the hard ridge of his cock. “Last chance, Willowtree. You gonna let me be a gentleman, or what?”

Finn and gentleman didn’t belong in the same sentence, especially in regards to the bedroom—or tree house, as it were. And that was one of the many reasons I loved him. He took what he wanted without apology, doled out pleasure like candy, and I was ready for every bit of it.

Stepping back, I gripped the hem of my tank and pulled it up and off, leaving me bare under his gaze. One of the benefits of having small breasts—no need for a bra. Something Finn definitely approved of, if his heated gaze and low growl of appreciation were any indication.

For two breaths, neither of us moved, both frozen, and then it was like something snapped in each of us. We crashed together, hands grappling with clothing, peeling layers off until we were both finally bare. Tripping over the picnic basket, we tumbled into a pile of pillows in the corner, our mouths never breaking.

He swept his tongue against mine, his hands roaming my body, exploiting all the places that made me weep with pleasure. When he grazed my clit, I tipped my head back, a moan lodged in my throat. Once he slid his fingers deep inside me and rocked his palm against me, that moan broke free, my hips lifting to meet his hand.

“Ahh, you are hungry for it, aren’t you? My greedy girl.”

I groaned, my head tipped back as he sucked my nipple deep into his mouth, his fingers still working their magic inside me. I was already close, though I shouldn’t have been surprised. He had a way of wringing every ounce of pleasure from my body—pleasure I didn’t even realize I was capable of reaching.

“You’re gonna come all over my fingers, aren’t you? Christ, can’t wait to feel that pussy squeezing my cock. C’mon, sweetness. Give it to me so I can slide nice and deep.” He pumped his fingers into me harder, faster, his palm a constant pressure on my clit.

Three more thrusts and I peaked, my body going taut, my breasts jutting out to meet his tongue as I pulsed through my release.

Struggling to catch my breath, I managed to get out, “Finn…” But he knew what I wanted. What I needed.

Sometime while I was lost in my bliss, he’d sheathed himself with a condom, and then settled his weight between my thighs, his cock nudging my entrance before he slid inside. The girth of him stretching me, just this side of painful.

“Sweet fucking Jesus, how does this pussy get better every time you let me inside?” He pulled out, soft and slow, letting me feel every generous inch of him before he snapped his hips forward and drove deep. “Anyone who says heaven isn’t on earth’s never been inside you, have they?”

I couldn’t answer—how could he expect me to? Especially when he sat back and propped my ankle on his shoulder, his hips rolling forward, sliding him even farther inside with each thrust.

“Look at you, taking me so deep. That sweet, pretty pussy spreading wide around my cock.” He turned, pressed his lips to my ankle. “Tell me how much you love it.”

“So, so much,” I managed to get out through panting breaths.

He stared at where we were joined, his thumb brushing in a mindless pattern against my hip. Except when I glanced down, he wasn’t tracing something random on my skin. And he wasn’t watching where he disappeared inside me. Instead, his thumb traced my sparrow, his eyes locked on it, lips parted.

I reached out, brushing my fingers down the wispy leaves of the willow tree on his side. Caressing each winding path of the roots. My heart swelled as I split my gaze between those black marks on his skin and his focused stare on my tattoo, the reverent way he traced the mark, the soft words of adoration spilling from his lips.

And hell. I’d known this would happen. There hadn’t been a doubt in my mind when he’d come back, when he’d focused his attention on me, that we’d end up here. That I’d end up here.

In love with a Thomas boy who wasn’t going to stick around.