19. Cedar Wood
Courtney
Our greeting is slightly tense as we fumble over whether or not to hug, this new gray area of “giving our relationship a chance” having us both flustered and unsure. We finally settle on hugging and I’m a bit too enthused when his arms loop around me, submerging me in his woodsy scent. I revel in the warmth of his body before he pulls back, offering me the bouquet of peonies with his charming, lopsided smile. Any insecurities that linger over my conversation with Starr melt away, at least temporarily.
“You look amazing,” Finn compliments me as we move our conversation into the kitchen. “Thanks.” I peek back at him with a smile and find he’s once again watching my hips sway as we walk. I smirk to myself as I turn my attention to my new dining table, I make a grand gesture towards it with a prideful, “ta-da!”
“Look a you!” Finn exclaims with a chuckle upon seeing the new table, running a large hand over the smooth top of it. “Finally putting down some roots, you’re practically a local now.” His genuine laugh makes my heart skip a beat as his baritone rings in my ears. My excitement falls off of a cliff and dies when I remember that I’m not a local and, when the writing strike ends, I’ll have to return to my fast-paced life in LA. Thousands of miles away from Finn.
I push the thought to a far corner of my mind. I just want to spend tonight enjoying the company of a particularly sexy mayor. I’ll go back to Los Angeles eventually. I have to. Right?
“This is what I wanted to tell you about,” I say, picking up the notebook of local legends off the table and handing it to him. He gives me a quizzical grin before flipping the cover open and reading a few lines.
“These are stories about Havenwood.”
“Yes, I plan to use them to write a guidebook. I’m going to include the town’s history, the highlights, the ghost stories. So that when I go back to LA, I can tell everyone-.” I stop myself from going any further. Hesitantly I look up at Finn only to find him already looking down at me, his handsome face is dowsed in a somber expression and I don’t have to ask why. The thought of me going back home to California is plaguing him just as much as it is plaguing me.
“I made us dinner,” I inform him, turning away quickly. I serve him a plate from the crock pot to distract myself from the topic.
“It smells amazing, thank you but you didn’t need to do that.” He responds politely as I hand him his plate. Finn and I don’t currently have a label for whatever we are, but it would be difficult to continue with whatever it is from opposite coasts.
“That’s what makes me so awesome,” I tease as I motion for him to have a seat at the table. I serve myself, despite Finn’s protests, and we dive into conversation like two lifelong friends picking up where we had just left off. We mull over the details of my guidebook as well as my renovation plans for the bookshop and it feels normal. Like we could do this every night for the rest of my life, almost like we’re meant to. Things are so easy with Finn; he fits seamlessly into every aspect of my life, showing me the stark contrast between him and Carter (who made it very clear that fitting me into his busy schedule was a chore).
After our meal, I clear our plates, laughing over some dorky joke Finn had made as I place them in the sink. I return to my seat beside him and for the first time tonight, we find ourselves with nothing to discuss. We only sit in silence, trying desperately to interpret one another’s body language, attempting to translate each movement. Both of us desperately curious whether or not we both want the same thing in this moment.
I observe Finn’s full lips, internally debating with myself on whether they are an apricot pink color or more of a misty rose and whether or not the tip of his dick matches that delicious color. I notice my eyes have inadvertently dropped to his zipper and I try quickly to focus them elsewhere. Did he see that? Shit.
In my haste to redirect my stare, I unintentionally land on his eyes and our gaze locks. His arctic blues now emoting a completely different feeling than before. Something had settled in them, something raw, something demanding. The warmth and welcoming are long gone, replaced with a presence threatening to devour me whole.
He’s a predator and I’m the prey, unable to do anything besides simply waiting for him to strike.
His velvety voice snaps the tension between us. “There’s no storm tonight, Courtney.” I can’t help but repress a small moan as he coos my name in his deep voice, still unable to look away from him. “If you want me to stay, you’ll have to ask. Nicely.”
Just like in the apple orchard, the mayor is commanding me to ask him nicely, setting the feminist in me ablaze, all while pleasing the parts of me that long to be dominated. I barely give any notice to the fact that I had begun to caress myself below the table but it isn’t a surprise considering I’m soaking my panties from the sound of his voice alone. I can’t control myself any longer.
“Please.”
No sooner have the word left my mouth before Finn yanks me from my chair and into his lap. I drop my legs on either side of his thick thighs, straddling him as our lips crash together in a hot mess of need. I greedily drink in his lips and mouth as his tongue darts out, swiping across my lower lip to request entrance. I comply, parting my lips and allowing him in as one of his large hands tangles itself into the hair at the base of my skull. A moan escapes from me as he tightens his grip on my strands, the pinpricks of pain at my roots elevating my arousal.
“You sound so hot, baby,” Finn’s voice drips with appetite as he whispers against my parted lips. He positions his spare hand respectfully on my lower back and I can feel his rock-hard cock through the thickness of his slacks. I can’t stop myself from grinding against it, disrespectfully.
“Finn, please..” I whine as my hips glide up and down the length of his erection. Knowing that I’m the cause of his arousal adds to my own tenfold. In my frenzied state, all I know is that I want him. I want to claim him. I want to mark him so deeply and fully that he won’t be able to remember Starr’s name in the morning. Now is not the time to be thinking about Finn’s ex-girlfriend but the jealous side of me can’t help it. Something else to address in therapy.
“I love how you sound when you beg for me, baby. Tell me what you want.” He instructs slowly as he catches my earlobe between his teeth, nipping at it softly.
If any other man wanted me to beg for him, I would tell him to go to hell, but if Finn Abernathy wants to hear me beg, then I’ll get on my hands and knees and fucking grovel.
“Please, Finn. Fuck me.” I manage between jagged breaths and sloppy kisses as my chest heaves with titillation. That should feel demeaning but instead, I feel the liquid heat boil low in my stomach at the sound of my own impure pleading.
“Fuck, Courtney.” He hums from low in his throat. His zipper poking me is the only proof necessary that he truly does like my pleas.
He stands, taking me with him as he does, forcing me to wrap my legs around his sturdy core for support. He holds me up by my ass as he heads for the living room but we both synchronously have the same realization, no couch. He’s already pivoting, heading for the stairs and my bedroom. “Wait,” I instruct before he can reach the first step.
Finn halts immediately in his tracks, searching my face for any sign that I’d changed my mind. I certainly had not, I’d simply had a better idea. “I know you’re headed for my bed but there’s a perfectly usable table right there.”
He pauses for a beat before his lips curl into a smirk of comprehension. “You’re right, naughty girl.” He chuckles as he readjusts my weight into one of his arms, holding me as if I’m as light as a toddler on his hip. He uses his now free arm to slide his forearm across the table, unceremoniously yet effectively clearing the tablecloth and decorative candles I’d put out. The objects barely hit the floor before my ass is propped on the wood tabletop, Finn’s cool blue eyes admiring me as if I’m a work of fine art. I can’t stand it any longer, I need the gap closed between us, no distance or irritating clothes in our way.
I free my arms from the thin straps of my dress and begin to pull at my undershirt when Finn’s large hands grip my own, freezing them mid-move. Now it’s my turn to be confused.
I look to him for an explanation, the blazing lust in his eyes telling me all I need to know. I remove my grip from my shirt and he takes over, beginning to undress me himself. He doesn’t strip me immediately, however; instead, once my shirt is off and my dress is pulled down to my stomach, he trails one of his long fingers from the side of my face down my neck. His soft, taunting movements causing goosebumps to break out over my skin and my nipples to harden into pebbles. I groan as his finger trickles down further, over the curve of my breast and down my exposed stomach, his proximity to my pussy causing the muscles to pulse with need.
With my chest exposed to him, I watch as Finn takes in the pink peaks of my nipples, his tongue swiping his bottom lip. At this moment, he no longer resembles a reserved, respectable mayor but instead a man, half-starved and salivating. My nipples tighten painfully under his stare, begging for his attention. His gaze remains transfixed on my breasts as he reaches behind his neck, tugging on the back of his shirt and unceremoniously tossing it to the floor once it’s over his head. With Finn now shirtless and on display before me, it’s my turn to stare.
I examine his torso, loving the way the overhead kitchen light casts dramatic shadows across the grooves of his strong body. Even with the flattering lighting, I can see that his biceps are sizable bumps on his arms, strong enough to easily toss me around like a rag doll—a trick I might ask him to demonstrate later.
I rake my eyes across his powerful shoulders down to his well-defined chest, which sports a light dusting of dark chest hair that deliciously contrasts his pale skin. I allow my gaze to dip further to his core, my excitement burning hotter as I force myself to savor each part of him instead of attempting to greedily drink him up like I want to. Despite how solidly built Finn is, I’m relieved to see no trace of a six-pack on his middle. The softness evident in his lower stomach turns me on in a way I haven’t felt before. By my third SoCal hookup, I’d lost interest in abs entirely since Los Angeleno men tended to make them their entire personalities. I’m happy knowing there’s more to Finn than his muscles (although they are fantastic as well).
My eyes pour down him in seconds despite my best efforts to luxuriate in his beauty. With a mere step, Finn closes the distance between us just as I finish my objectifying examination of him. With him so close to me, I reach out, unable to stop myself from touching the God in front of me and allow my finger to delicately trace the dark hair of his happy trail into his slacks that hang carefree on his hips, knowing just how mad it will drive the man inside the mayor. His lips brush my own as we share a fleeting moment of tenderness before crashing together once again in an insatiable frenzy. Finn runs a hand deep into my hair, his fingers curling around the strands as the other fills with one of my breasts. I feel the softness of his palm tightening around my sensitive flesh as he gives my breast a rough squeeze; I cry out an unchained, pleasureful yelp, his uneven breathing exposing just how much he’s enjoying touching me.
“You have beautiful fucking tits, baby,” Finn growls against my kiss-swollen lips. That’s something I already know, but hearing it from Finn is a whole different level of validation that I didn’t know I needed.
His lips move from my own to my throat, planting kisses along the side of it as his warm breaths spill down my neck. I can only manage to respond in approving purrs, hooking my arm around his shoulders to draw him in closer to me. The warmth of his chest against my own ignites the desperation inside of me. I need him inside me. Now.
I react on impulse, snaking my hand down in between us and unbuckling his belt with ease. The metallic clink of the prong and bar separating sounding like victorious music to my ears, one step closer to my prize. Finn examines my work with a naughty grin of approval.
“That’s impressive.” He chuckles softly, genuine surprise underlining his flirtatious tone. He lowers his hands to meet my own, unbuttoning and unzipping his slacks. His erection is now only shielded by the thin fabric of his boxers. I grab his hands before he can make any more moves to undress himself, shrugging casually.
“I know how to take what I want.” I use the arm that’s wrapped around him to pull him into another kiss, catching him off guard. He stumbles into me perfectly, his hard cock pressing into my stomach. I like Finn’s praise but I love to surprise him with my control and sexual prowess even more.
I can tell Finn is trying to take his time with me and start slow, like a true gentleman. I’m not trying to rush us either, but after coveting this man so desperately for weeks and only getting a brief taste of him this morning, the anticipation feels like torture.
I guess I’ll have to show him how much of a lady I am not.
I hook the heel of my boot into the front pocket of his pants and skillfully extend my leg straight down, effectively peeling his pants down his legs. Finn breaks away from our kiss, once again admiring my creative ability to undress him.
“Where have you been all my life?” He laughs and runs a hand through his raven hair, showing off his perfect smile. Trapped beneath lying blond men, I respond in vain in my head. Tormenting myself once again for allowing someone to treat me so badly when I could’ve been here, getting my guts rearranged by a hot small-town mayor on my kitchen table.
My eyes must have momentarily gone distant because Finn rests a curled finger under my chin, lifting it so our eyes align. There’s no need to punish myself right now when I definitely shouldn’t be thinking about my past or Starr or anything else besides Finn fucking Abernathy. Finn’s blue eyes search my own, silently checking in on me before we advance any further. That’s something else I love about him, several times now he’s put my comfort above his lust. Something I didn’t know the modern man was capable of.
I conjure up my flirty smile once again, beating down the self-deprecation. “We’re just getting started, Mr. Mayor.”
A devilish laugh escapes him. The timber of the noise mixed with the way his core tightens as he laughs causes me to face the music for the first time. Finn has barely touched me, hell, we’re both only naked from the waist up but I’m the most turned on I’ve ever been in my life. I wouldn’t even be shocked if he told me there was a puddle forming below me on the table right now and it’s because I genuinely like him. A lot. Maybe too much.
I won’t say I’m falling in love with Finn Abernathy because it’s way too soon, but as I look up into those icy blue eyes filled with lust and adoration, I know I can’t hide from the truth much longer.
I am falling in love with him.