Chapter 38
thirty-eight
. . .
REAGAN
When we’d gone back inside after our tryst, Finn’s family gave us endless shit.
It had only been too obvious what we’d been up to, and being soaking wet certainly didn’t help matters.
Though the night was still young, Crew agreed to bring us home under the guise of changing and heading back in our own vehicle.
We all knew that was a lie.
Especially since, the moment we were through the door of the house, Finn swept me into his arms, and I had no doubt how we’d be spending the rest of the night.
Burying his face in my neck, he took an exaggerated inhale of my skin then nipped my flesh with his teeth.
“I’m fucking hungry, belle.”
“Oh really?”
“Yes. Starving.”
“Kitchen’s that way,” I said, pointing behind him when he bypassed it to head down the hall.
“Not interested in that kind of meal,” he assured me as he entered our room and gently placed me on the bed.
“What kind of meal then?” I asked, propping myself up on my elbows and grinning at him.
He glanced pointedly at the apex of my thighs, still sticky from our earlier fuck. “You’re a smart woman, Reagan. I think you’ll figure it out.”
His words struck true, right in my core, lighting me up from the inside out.
Outside the bar had been the first time we’d had sex since my accident—Finn’s insistence, not mine. I’d been ready to go a week ago, but he’d refused until I could go a day without my pain meds.
I supposed it was a blessing. With the ugly black cast and dull throbbing as my constant companions, I wasn’t feeling particularly sexy these days.
But the way he looked at me…
I must have said the words out loud, because Finn canted his head to the side and said, “How do I look at you?”
“Like I’m the only woman in the world. Like you never want to stop looking at me.”
“I don’t,” he assured me. “I love you, Reagan Lindsey. I love you more than anyone and anything in this world. And…I want you to stay.”
Emotion clogged my throat, but I managed to get out, “I love you too, and I’m not going anywhere.”
He shook his head. “No, I mean…after we find Lainey. Whatever happens, I want you to stay with me. Build a life here. I don’t ever want to spend another second away from you.”
His admission was surprising—but also not. We’d been heading in this direction for a while, likely since a few months ago, when we’d seen each other for the first time again in the sheriff’s department.
Did I want to stay in Dusk Valley? Make this town and Finn permanent?
I didn’t even have to think about it.
“Yes.”
Like an excited kid on Christmas, Finn hopped on the bed and hovered over me, grinning happily.
“We’ll decorate the house however you want,” he said quickly. “And we can do up the guest room for Lainey. Hell, I’ll bulldoze the whole fucking thing and build a new one if that’s what you wa—”
I pressed my finger to his lips. “We can worry about that later. Right now, I need you.”
“Ah, yes. How could I have forgotten about my meal?”
With a wicked gleam in his eyes, he retreated and lowered to his stomach until his face was eye level with my pussy. His hands snaked under the hem of my dress, calloused palms rasped higher and higher, closer to the place I needed him most.
“Finn?” I whispered.
“Yeah, baby?” he asked, not looking away from my core, merely flipping my skirt out of the way, eyes on his prize.
“Be gentle.”
I hated asking, especially after the hard and fast fuck—which I’d asked for then—outside the bar.
I loved the frantic, reckless fucking our sex life consisted of before my accident.
I loved the way Finn threw me around like a rag doll.
He never treated me like something fragile and breakable, because he knew I wasn’t.
Knew I could handle everything he threw at me—and give it right back.
I loved the bruises he’d sometimes leave on my thighs and breasts and proudly bore the reminders of the pleasure he gave me.
But tonight, I needed something different.
“Always,” he promised.
And then he left the room.
What the fuck?
Before I could get too worked up, he returned…with a bottle of tequila.
Propping myself up on my elbows, I asked, “What’s that for?”
“We’re celebrating.”
“With…tequila.” I was unsure if I was asking a question or making a statement.
“Kind of our thing, isn’t it?”
He was right. When I thought of our first night together, those memories were inextricably linked to the burn of tequila as Finn and I pounded shots with his brothers.
“Plus, I had an idea earlier,” he continued, setting the bottle on one of the nightstands.
“Oh yeah?” I asked as he climbed onto the mattress. Taking my good hand, he helped me sit up until I was on my knees. Then he grabbed the hem of my dress and peeled it off—leaving me completely naked. Goosebumps erupted as air hit my still slightly damp, newly exposed skin.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful.”
Grabbing the front of his tee, I hauled him in, capturing his mouth in a hungry kiss.
“You are the most gorgeous man I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
“You’re just saying that,” he retorted.
I pursed my lips. “When have I ever done that?”
He chuckled. “True.”
“The first time I ever saw you, I thought you were the hottest man I’d ever seen,” I said. “Still do. Still can’t figure out how we ended up here.”
Finn cupped my sex. “Your pussy is just that good.”
With a laugh, I shoved him playfully, then reached for the hem of his shirt and drew it up over his head. Needed to have his warm, solid vitality beneath my fingers.
“So what’s this idea?” I asked, nodding at the liquor.
“Lie back.”
I reclined, my head resting on the pillows, legs straight out, arms thrown up over my head.
Finn uncapped the bottle.
“Want some?”
Nodding enthusiastically, I parted my lips.
“Good girl,” he grinned.
But instead of tipping the bottle over my mouth, he brought it to his own and took a healthy pull.
Then he grabbed my face, fingers digging into my jaw to hold it open as he spit the tequila into my mouth.
Finn let go, and I swallowed. The liquor—slightly warm from his own mouth, which I found incomprehensibly sexy—burned all the way down, settling in my stomach, stoking the fire already crackling in my core.
Before I could move or react, he tipped the bottle over my chest. The chilled liquid was a frigid contrast to my flaming skin.
He dipped his head, running his tongue in a long line across my collarbones.
Moving lower to my breasts, his mouth closed over each nipple in turn, swirling his tongue around them until they tightened into peaks.
“Finn,” I gasped when he pulled away, blowing air across the places his mouth had been.
Goosebumps broke out on my skin, and I shivered in anticipation of what might come next.
Tequila found its way into the hollow of my belly button and, eyes on mine, Finn lowered his mouth, sucking it up, tongue swirling the divot like it had against my nipples.
By the time he made it to my pussy, the cold neck of the bottle parting my slit and nudging my clit, I was ready to combust.
My back arched, the difference in temperature between the bottle and my hot flesh sending a delicious tremor coursing through my body. A breathy moan escaped me.
“Feel good?” Finn asked.
“More.”
With a chuckle, he obliged, tilting the bottle so tequila cascaded over my slit. Finn wasted no time diving in, once again repeating the flicks and swirls of his tongue he’d used on my nipples and belly button.
I was so keyed up from the slow, exquisite way he’d tortured each of my erogenous zones that I soon clawed at Finn’s shoulders and tugged his hair, neither of us caring when my cast clunked him in the forehead.
I shifted my hips, angling my pussy closer to his mouth, riding his tongue until I detonated.
Finn slowed but worked me through it, gently tracing and kissing my clit.
“You okay?” he asked when he had his fill and I came down from the high.
“Amazing.”
Finn grinned and climbed off the bed. “Hold that thought.”
As he stripped off his jeans and boxer briefs, I marveled at his physique.
His body was perfect, the kind of muscles you only saw in magazines or online—never in real life.
There wasn’t an ounce of fat to be found, each of his muscles hard-earned and perfectly defined.
He was sculpted like an ancient Greek god, made sexier by the ink that covered his arms from wrists to shoulders and continued across his chest to the dip between his pecs.
Light blond hair dusted his chest, disappeared across his upper abdomen, and reappeared darker below his belly button before trailing to his cock.
And his cock.
My mouth watered at the sight of it—it’s thick, steely length, skin impossibly smooth despite its hardness. Knowing how full and complete I felt when he was inside me.
“You’re drooling.”
Nodding at his dick, the tip of which glistened with precum, I said, “So are you.”
His grin was feral as he rejoined me on the bed, hovering over me and fitting his hips between my thighs.
One of his hands found my cheek, brushing back a lock of still damp hair.
Staring deeply into my eyes, so deep he cut straight to my soul, he said, “I love you, Reagan.”
“I love you, Finn.”
With those three words, he drove into me.
“Fuck,” I groaned. Despite having taken him earlier and the orgasm he’d just given me, the fit was deliciously tight, my pussy stinging slightly as I tried to adjust to his size.
Finn withdrew slowly until only the head of his cock remained inside me.
“Say it again.” Thrust.
“I love you.” Thrust.
“Promise me you’ll stay.” Thrust.
“As if I could ever leave you.” Thrust.
Words left us as we were lost to the slow rocking of our hips.
I intertwined my good hand with his, and he pressed them into the mattress by my head as the other gripped my hip.
Finn drove us higher and higher until the pressure in my core burst forth, a wave of pleasure cresting and crashing down, pulling us both under.