Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
GENEVIEVE
My body tingles as I sit in the front seat of Finn’s truck, still breathless, my mind reeling from his kiss. Every inch of me is on high alert, desperate to feel his lips on mine again.
And maybe other places, too.
I knew things with Finn would be intense. There’s always been an attraction simmering between us, no matter how hard I tried to ignore it. And I did try. Because deep down, I knew once I had a taste, I’d never be satisfied with anyone else.
That kiss just proved it.
And it was only a kiss. A sensual tease.
A silent promise of what’s to come.
The ten-minute drive stretches into eternity, the air between us thick with unspoken words and unfulfilled need. My fingers curl against my thighs, desperate for something, anything , to ground me. But nothing does.
Not when Finn is sitting mere inches away, gripping the wheel with white-knuckled tension, his jaw tight, chest rising and falling a little too fast.
He feels it, too.
When he pulls into my driveway and cuts the engine, silence settles between us. Not awkward. Not uncertain. Just charged.
Neither of us speaks as we step out of the truck. I move toward the front door, entering the code with shaky fingers. Finn follows me inside, shutting the door behind him with a click. The sound echoes in the quiet house, and when I face him, something in his expression shifts.
I step closer, drawn to him by some unseen force, the atmosphere heavy with anticipation. My heart pounds, my breathing growing shallow as I tilt my head back.
He doesn’t move. Doesn’t close the distance. He lets me be the one to cross the line.
I wet my lips, my voice barely above a whisper as I beg, “Kiss me, Finn.”
He swipes his tongue along his bottom lip, his blue eyes flaming with lust. Then he cups my cheeks, his thumbs brushing against my skin.
His palms are warm, rough, and slightly unsteady, like he’s barely holding himself together. With a deep, ragged groan, his mouth crashes against mine, and heat surges through my veins, pooling low in my stomach.
He takes his time at first. Teasing. Testing. Tempting.
But when our tongues collide, a moan slips from my throat, and Finn loses control.
His grip tightens, his body pressing my back against the wall, one hand sliding down my waist to anchor me in place. Every inch of him — his heat, his strength, the raw hunger in the way he kisses me — ignites something deep inside me.
I want more.
I need more.
I curl my fingers into his shirt, pulling him closer, but it’s not enough. Nothing ever will be again.
Finn rips his mouth from mine, breathing hard, chest heaving. His eyes are wild, dark with something I’ve never seen before. Something dangerously close to possession.
“Am I that bad of a kisser?” I tease, trying to break the tension, but my voice is breathless, unsteady.
His chuckle is rough, humorless. “Just the opposite.” He shakes his head as if trying to clear it. “I had a feeling it would be good. But I didn’t expect it to be like this.”
“Like what?” I rise onto my toes, my lips hovering over his.
He digs his fingers into my hair. “Like I’m ready to lose my damn mind if I’m not inside you in the next few minutes.”
I shiver, my entire body humming with anticipation. “Then what are you waiting for?”
Another groan rumbles from his chest. Then his mouth is back on mine, his kiss deeper, hungrier, like he’s starved for this.
For me.
With a firm grip on my hips, he guides me backward down the hall, his lips never leaving mine, maneuvering the path as if he’s walked it dozens of times.
He has, but never with the intention of having sex with me.
That all changes tonight.
When my legs hit the back of the bed, Finn slowly pulls back to meet my gaze. Now that we’re in my softly lit bedroom and mere seconds away from actually doing this, a fresh surge of nerves floods over me.
I’m not sure what I’m more nervous about… Ruining our friendship or Finn seeing too much of me. More than just physically.
“Genevieve.”
His husky voice tugs me back from my thoughts, grounding me in the present.
“Get out of your head.”
I huff a soft laugh. Of course, he knows exactly where my mind has gone. He always does. That should be comforting, but it makes me feel even more vulnerable.
“Sorry.” I give him a sheepish smile. “It’s been a while since I’ve done this.”
His expression softens, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. “Then let me remind you what it’s like.”
His lips find mine again, softer this time. More patient. He lowers me onto the mattress, and his warmth presses into me, surrounding me. Every touch, every brush of his fingers against my skin, is deliberate. He’s not rushing. He’s savoring. And somehow, that makes this even more intense.
“Finn,” I whisper, my breath catching as his hands skim over me, tracing familiar yet foreign paths over my body.
He plants soft, lingering kisses along my jawline as he works his way to the sensitive curve of my neck.
“You smell like vanilla.” His voice is low, rough with restraint. “Always have.”
His words send a rush of warmth through me, the kind that has nothing to do with desire and everything to do with the fact that he remembers. That he’s noticed. That even when I thought he only saw me as his best friend, he was paying attention.
He slips a hand beneath my shirt, my pulse increasing as he nears my breast. When he cups it, I gasp, my core aching with need.
“I’ve imagined what these would feel like since the summer I was fifteen and saw you in a bikini,” he confesses with a playful lilt in his tone.
“Is that right?” I give him a coy smile.
“Most definitely.” He meets my eyes. “I had to go jerk off so you wouldn’t see the tent in my fucking swim trunks.”
A renewed wave of excitement crashes over me, and I thread my fingers through his hair, arching toward him. “If you think they feel good, why don’t you have a taste?”
He responds by slamming his lips to mine, tightening his grip around my breast, my nerve endings on fire. Without missing a beat, he briefly pulls away to remove my shirt. I help him, needing his mouth on me like I need my next breath.
I didn’t foresee tonight going like this. I didn’t anticipate there being much in the way of foreplay. That’s not what this is supposed to be about. It was just supposed to be sex. But these next few days may be the only time I’ll get to experience him like this. I may as well enjoy everything he’s willing to give me.
Finn tosses my shirt onto the floor, then reaches behind me, unclasping my bra with the efficiency of someone who’s done it quite a few times. Returning to me, he brushes his mouth against mine before trailing a path down my frame. The heat of his mouth on my skin sets me on fire, every lingering kiss stoking the flames even more.
When he circles his tongue along my nipple, I moan in surrender, my body a slave to this man’s touch.
“Fucking perfect,” Finn remarks in a husky, reverent tone as he continues worshiping me. “Your tits are fucking perfect, Genevieve.” He takes my nipple back into his mouth, alternating between tender sucking and gentle nibbling.
I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I’m wound tighter than I have been in years. Maybe ever. I don’t remember it being like this with Ethan.
Then again, Ethan never brought any of these emotions out of me. There were no passionate declarations of love. No unrelenting need. Instead, the reason I chose Ethan is because he was reliable. Safe.
Finn is anything but safe, in more ways than one.
But that’s not enough of a reason for me to put a stop to this. To tell him I’m only interested in getting pregnant. Not any of this extra stuff.
Because this extra stuff is fucking incredible.
He moves deliberately, showering my stomach with kisses while his tongue traces lazy circles around my belly button. The roughness of his unshaven jawline against my skin makes the ache between my legs grow even more prominent. What I wouldn’t give to feel his beard scrape against the sensitive flesh of my thighs as he gives me more pleasure than I’ve experienced in years.
Maybe ever.
When he reaches the button on my jeans, I draw in a shaky breath, my muscles tightening.
“Relax, Gen,” he soothes, leaving a trail of kisses along the waistband. “I want to make this good for you.”
“You already have.” My words leave me before I can stop them.
He lifts his gaze to mine, a cocky smirk tugging on his lips. “Then let me make it even better.” He arches a brow, silently asking permission.
I quickly nod.
His focused gaze remains locked on mine as he unbuttons my jeans and lowers the zipper. I lift my hips, allowing him to drag my pants down my legs, along with my panties.
His pupils dilate as he rakes his gaze over my body for what feels like an excruciatingly long time. I can’t help but feel somewhat self-conscious, especially since I know how in shape Finn is, all hard ridges and defined edges. I don’t look like that.
But by the way he admires me, you’d think I was the most alluring woman he’s ever seen.
“Fucking beautiful,” he murmurs as he touches his lips against mine. “You are so damn beautiful, Genevieve.”
I melt into his kiss, doing everything in my power to remind myself this isn’t real. He’s probably just saying these things to get me in the mood. Or maybe to get himself in the mood.
Although, if memory serves, he’s been in the mood since that kiss at the mini golf course.
He snakes down my body again, his tongue leaving no inch of me unexplored.
As he moves lower and lower, my pulse increases, my breathing growing even more ragged. Not out of nerves, but from anticipation.
When he finally settles between my legs, I’m on the brink of combusting.
One thing is certain. Finn is a master of foreplay. I’ve never been so damn turned on before in my life. So ready to fall over the edge. Instead of constantly thinking how weird it should feel to be doing this with Finn, that thought hasn’t even entered my mind. All I can think about is how desperate I am for his touch. It’s as if he knows exactly where to touch, kiss, and suck to push my body higher and higher.
“Is this for me?” he asks.
“What?” I pant, struggling to catch my breath.
Biting his lower lip, he drags a finger along my slick center, gently rubbing my clit.
I close my eyes and moan, the intensity of his touch sending ripples of pleasure through me. It’s been over a year since anyone’s touched me there. Maybe longer.
Ethan and I were never the type of couple who couldn’t keep our hands off each other. In the beginning, especially after I finally gave my virginity to him, we had sex quite a bit. But over time, it sort of fizzled out to the point where we would go weeks, sometimes months, without having sex. It almost felt like more of a chore.
That’s not the case with Finn. Nothing about this feels like a chore at all.
“This, Genevieve. How fucking soaked you are.” He continues torturing me as he hovers over me, taking in my entire body. Then he lowers his mouth to within a breath of mine. “Tell me it’s all for me.”
I don’t even hesitate. I can’t. This man has turned me into a puppet, a willing marionette dancing for him. Only him.
“It’s all for you,” I whimper.
He presses his mouth more firmly against mine. “Good girl.”
Holy shit.
I’ve read romance books where the hero called the heroine a good girl. But nothing could have prepared me for how it would feel to have someone murmur those words to me in real life.
And not just anyone.
But Finn Lawrence.
He moves down my body again, his fingers still teasing my clit. The lower he gets, the more tightly wound I become, anticipation coiling inside of me like a snake.
“Finn,” I moan, desperate for something, anything , to dull this unbearable ache.
“Yes?” he muses, briefly floating his gaze to mine before returning his attention to my body.
“I need you inside me.”
“And I’m desperate to be inside you. But first I need to taste you.” He returns his stare to mine, something harsh and demanding within. “So spread your legs and let me taste your pussy.”