7. Margo
SEVEN
MARGO
I didn’t expect things with Finn to get this far.
I thought we’d make out outside the bar. Maybe he’d slip a hand under my shirt and leave behind a hickey. Eventually, I’d end up going home alone.
This is a hell of a lot more fun.
The bombshell of learning he’s Jeremy’s dad threw me off balance, and I can’t believe I didn’t notice it before.
I see the resemblance in the shape of his face. In his dark hair and the way his eyes crinkle in the corners. He doesn’t look his age at all, and the body he’s showing off is just as sexy as the rest of him.
I can’t stop staring at the muscles he’s been hiding under his clothes. At his long and lean arms, and I’m not even sorry about my gawking.
“My eyes are up here, Margo,” Finn says. I snap my attention away from the trail of dark hair on his stomach. It disappears into his jeans, and I wonder what the rest of him looks like. “See something you like?”
“I see a lot of things I like. You know you’re hot, don’t you?”
“I’ve been told that once or twice, but it’s always nice to hear it again.” His hand moves to my hair and his fingers tug on the ends of my braids. “You want a drink?”
“A drink?” I wrinkle my nose. “Why aren’t you bending me over the kitchen table and fucking me already?”
Finn’s laugh is loud. “We’ll get there, but it seems like you’ve been with a string of shitty guys lately. As the oldest man you’ll have slept with, I feel it’s my duty to promise you better things going forward. And that starts with a drink.”
“Bold of you to assume you’ll be the oldest guy I’ve slept with. I banged a seventy-five-year-old last year.”
“You’re joking.”
I grin. “I am. But it was worth lying about just to see your reaction.”
“Brat,” he murmurs again, and I’m starting to love that word. Before I can lob another joke his way, he’s stepping back. Lifting me off my feet and throwing me over his shoulder. I squeal when the hem of my skirt flips up and exposes my ass. I use my hands to cover myself, but his laugh turns rough and sharp. He grabs my wrists and pins my palms to his shoulder so I can’t move. “You think you’re going to hide from me after that?”
My breath catches in my chest.
This isn’t my first rodeo.
I’ve slept with a dozen guys.
Some were boyfriends. Some were casual hookups. There was a friend with benefits in college I’d sleep with before my exams. None had the assertiveness Finn has, though, and that sends a bolt of desire straight to my core.
It’s hard for me to vocalize the things I want in the bedroom. Some men think it’s too extreme. Some say they’re onboard, but they don’t know how to deliver.
I’ve always wanted to be with someone who is sure of themselves. Someone who exudes power and confidence, and I can already tell Finn is going to give me exactly what I want.
“Where are we going?” I ask as he walks down the hall. From this angle, I have a good view of his back muscles and the shape of his ass. It’s obvious he’s an athlete, and he’s even taller than I thought he was in the bar. “Your room?”
“I asked if you wanted a drink.” Finn turns a corner, and I see the legs of a table. Tile floors and the end of a dish towel. “It was rude not to answer.”
He sets me on the kitchen counter and the blood returns to my head. I blink and brush the hair out of my eyes, looking around to find him reaching into a liquor cabinet.
“Um.” I squeeze my thighs together, turned on and worked up. “Okay. I’ll have a drink.”
My brain is already a little fuzzy from the drinks back at the bar, so I know I can’t have too much. I want to remember whatever the hell happens here tonight, and throwing back a round of shots is not the way to do that.
“Tequila?”
“Sure.”
Finn grabs a bottle and walks toward me. His skin is tinted pink, and the outline of his cock is noticeable through the denim of his jeans. “I don’t know what my son did to fuck things up with you, but you’re here with me now. And I’m going to take care of you. Give me the night, Margo. We can figure things out when the sun comes up.”
“What do you get out of this?”
That same sharp laugh is back, and I feel it everywhere. Between my breasts. Between my thighs. Finn’s free hand shoves my knees apart and he steps between my legs, taking up too much space. He yanks up my skirt, and I almost moan as the air bites at my skin. “Your cunt. However I want it tonight. Wherever I want it. Doesn’t that sound fun?”
It sounds more than fun.
It sounds like the best gift ever, and I know a more rational woman would be walking away. She’d do a deep internet search of Finn Mathieson and make sure he’s not a serial killer before spreading her legs.
But that’s not me.
I’m needy and desperate, and I’ve been thinking about having his hands on me since I scowled at him in the medical tent.
“What are the rules?” I ask. “What about my limits?”
“Open your mouth,” he instructs, and my lips part. He pours a shot of tequila into my mouth, but before I can gulp it down, he squeezes my cheeks together. “Keep it there until I tell you to swallow.”
I stare at him wide-eyed as excitement drums in my veins. I swish the alcohol around, and the bite of tequila melts to smooth and delicious. He pulls down on my bottom lip, watching me. After a full two minutes of squirming, he taps my leg.
“Swallow, Margo,” he says, and I do. I open my mouth so he can see it’s empty, and his smile turns proud. “That was very good.”
I blush and dip my chin to my chest. The praise is another shot of adrenaline, and it only fuels the fire inside me. “Thank you.”
“Tell me your limits. What don’t you like?”
“Um. Nothing with weapons,” I blurt, being put on the spot.
“Elaborate, please.”
“I don’t want to do anything where I fear for my life.”
“That’s definitely off the table. What else?”
I rack my brain and try to think of other things I’d never want to do. If I wasn’t sitting on his kitchen counter, half naked with his cock inches away from me, I could probably come up with a dozen other things I’m not interested in, but thinking coherently is difficult. It’s nearly impossible when he puts his hands on my legs and brushes his fingers against the seam of my underwear.
“I don’t want you to hurt me,” I say. “No physical pain. I’m okay with rough. But not pain.”
“I don’t want that either. Will you tell me if we’re heading down that road?” Finn asks.
I nod, and it’s some feeble attempt at showing my agreement. Inside, I’m distracted by so many things: the softness of his touch and how badly I want to feel it everywhere on my body. The way Finn leans forward and how the scent of his cologne invades my nose. It’s all too much. Too overwhelming, and I’m close to forgetting my name.
“Yes,” I whisper.
“What else? Tell me one more thing you don’t want me to do.”
“All this discussion about things I don’t want you to do. What about the things I do want you to do?”
“We’re going to get there. I promise.” He kisses my neck again, and fuck . I want him to kiss my mouth. I want his tongue all over my body. “But not until you give me something else you don’t enjoy.”
I huff, irritated. I’m not used to being teased or having to wait. The sex I’ve had is usually quick. A fifteen, twenty-minute ordeal before I’m putting my clothes back on and going about my night. It’s almost like Finn is making me work for this, and I hate that the chase turns me on even more.
“I don’t want anyone else to be a part of this. It’s only you and me.”
I might’ve revealed too much with that last stipulation, because his face softens. He nods and kisses my cheek. “Got it. Only us. No one else.”
“Thank you. Do you have any limits? Any rules?”
“When were you last tested? And have you been with anyone since you slept with my son?”
Every time he says my son , it’s a reminder that what we’re doing is forbidden, almost, and it makes me want him even more.
Other people might be bothered by the connection, but I’m not. They’re two different people, and if Jeremy can fuck who he wants, I can do the same damn thing.
And tonight, I want Finn.
I get wetter at the thought of someone finding us in this position. Asking what the hell we’re doing, and having to explain I’m close to fucking my ex-boyfriend’s dad.
It’s so wrong , but I’ve always enjoyed being a little bad.
“I was tested two months ago, and I haven’t been with anyone since Jeremy. Nothing to report on my end. What about you? Do you have flocks of women coming in and out of here?”
“Nope. I was tested after the last time I slept with someone, and everything came back negative.”
“That doesn’t tell me anything about your rules.”
“Hang on a second. I’m getting there. I want you to know I’m big on consent. I’m going to ask you before I do things, and you won’t hurt my feelings if you’re not into it, but I need you to communicate with me, all right?”
A lump forms in my throat with his considerate remarks.
I know we’re here to have a good time, but I’m big on consent, too. I’m down to try anything once, but only if you tell me what we’re trying beforehand.
There’s nothing that’s more of a turnoff than when a man makes assumptions. Knowing Finn wants to hear the things I like and the things makes my insides feel fuzzy, and I nod again.
“All right,” I say, closing my eyes and waiting for what happens next.
“As for rules, I only have one. Condoms,” he says, and I shiver when the heat of his body engulfs me. I can’t see him, but I know he’s close. I know his mouth is inches away from mine, and I want to learn what he tastes like. “We use condoms when I fuck you.”
“Are you planning on fucking me? Or are you all talk like the rest of the boys I’ve been with?”
There’s a pinch on the soft part of my thigh, and I hiss at the sting. My eyes fly open and Finn is staring at me, his gaze heated and heavy.
“You know I’m a man, Margo. Take off your underwear so I can show you I know what to do with my tongue.”