Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
K ey in hand, Rose stood, sidling closer to the kitchen door in case she needed to get back into the house quickly. The sound of crunching leaves came closer.
She snuck a glance around the porch. It was Finn. Her grip on the keys relaxed.
He’d dashed home to put another coat of paint on. They spoke little during brunch, but he’d asked if he could stop by later.
He paused short of the trio of steps. “Want to walk?”
She stepped down to meet him and took the hand he offered her.
Tiny sparks danced across her palms as their fingers intertwined.
They walked the perimeter along the forest’s edge until they came to the tire swing.
Twin ropes secured it to the largest branch of the oldest oak tree on the grounds.
No one had swung on it in years. Until Aliya noticed it a few years back.
Determined to keep his daughter safe, Broome had replaced the old tire and the rope.
Nostalgia sent her toward it even though she had long outgrown the days in which Finn and she took turns spinning and pushing each other. He’d always sent her high enough to make her stomach fall.
Letting go of his hand, she climbed onto the tire and sat on its edge with her legs extended. She wrapped her fingers around each rope. Finn moved behind her, grabbed hold and pulled her back, as if years of habit forced his hands. The swing moved in a low swoop. A laugh escaped her.
The thick branch creaked overhead as he tugged the tire higher and let go. Flutters flickered inside her as she swung back down.
Once more, Finn caught hold, pulling the swing towards him above the ground. His chest, his upper arms brushed against her back, her shoulders. His breath wafted over her neck, stirring the strands of her hair.
She turned her head, met his eyes with her own. The color of dark chocolate and a hundred percent focused on her. His face was mere inches from hers. It reminded her of Willow’s words, Betsy’s seven layer cake . Would he kiss her? Her lips parted as she held her breath.
He let go. She flew away from him, the flutters inside her stronger this time. This time on her return, he kissed her quickly before releasing her. It wasn’t enough to assuage the stirrings inside her. She wanted a kiss like the night of the storm.
She dragged her feet along the ground to stop the swing. Finn reached for her as she scrambled off the tire. His arms circled her waist as she stood, pulling her flush against him.
Her arms wound around his neck as she pressed her lips to his with a hunger she’d never felt with another. She wanted him.
He answered her with an urgency of his own, capturing her mouth in a searing way that made her restless.
He broke the kiss. “We need to go inside. It’s getting dark.”
She nodded. What they’d started here beside the swing crackled inside her, demanding more. She barely glanced at the main house as they hurried away from the oak tree toward the row of cottages.
They made their way through the cottage door.
Once closed, she found herself against it, Finn’s hands bracketing her waist. Her breath sharpened when his lips returned to hers, the sweep of his tongue mingling with hers.
His hands moved up her sides, over her breasts, lingering before exploring the rest of her with cradling caresses.
His mouth left hers, exploring her neck, her nape—his hands more urgent, slipping beneath her dress, sliding up her legs, pressing, teasing until his name escaped her lips—a whispered plea for more.
Rose felt lightheaded, her breath over loud in her ears.
His mouth, the scrape of his light scruff, another kiss behind her ear. His voice, a grated whisper, as if he was as caught up as her. “Evie, how far do you want to take this?”
“I—” Her mind clamored. The hallway that led to her bedroom stood in front of them. What happened to her focus on friends? Her fears of getting hurt again? Neither protest seemed to matter now. There’d always been a connection between them.
But if she invited him into her bedroom, it wouldn’t be just sex.
There’d be no coming back from this. She’d felt possessive back in high school, maybe even jealous of the number of girls she’d seen him with, but she’d never fallen for him.
Until now.
Criminy—she’d fallen for Finn. Her heart trembled with the weight of her realization.
Finn’s thumb traced her lower lip. It felt like understanding, as if he sensed the debate in her mind. “Rose, we don’t have to?—”
They did, they so did. She slipped her hand around the back of his neck, pulled him close, took a deep breath, and met his eyes again. “Make love to me, Finn.”
The longing in his eyes seemed more as they kissed.
She led him to her bedroom, a cozy space of greenery and twinkle lights.
The backs of her knees hit her soft comforter. Finn’s hands moved to the buttons of her dress. His brown eyes glittered even darker while his fingers moved, brushing over her skin as they undid the first one, as if he needed to savor the moment.
Need pulsed inside her, but she too wanted to cherish this.
He said, “I’ve thought about you, this, a long time.”
His words stoked the fire inside her, a secret invitation to play, the sort they used to get in trouble for.
She’d loved getting in trouble with him.
She swallowed. “Care to elaborate?”
“No. I prefer to take things one button at a time.”
She glanced down. Only a few buttons remained. “You’re quick.”
He paused. “Is that a question?”
“No.” She didn’t want to think about his previous experiences.
“Good.” He undid the last three. His hands felt warm as they slipped over her shoulders to peel the bodice of her dress open to her waist.
His fingers stilled; he was staring at her breasts. “I never thought a bra could kill me.”
Amused, she looked down. She was wearing her pink one. She wasn’t large chested. To her, the bra looked harmless, some satin and pink lace. But his gaze was awfully intense.
“You wore this at the coffeehouse,” he said in a low, sexy tone as his thumbs grazed over her lace covered breasts. “I could see all the way down your shirt.”
“I didn’t know you were?—”
“You’re beautiful, Evie.” His hands moved lower, tugging her dress over her hips. It fluttered to the floor, leaving her in her pink bra and matching panties.
His gaze burned as he studied her. “This one’s definitely my favorite.”
The words made her insides curl, but she managed a small laugh. “As if you know what the others in my drawer look like.”
“If you want to model them, I’ll vote.”
She pressed her lips back to his even as she reached back to unclasp her bra to remove it, murmuring, “No. I have other plans for you.” She grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and helped pull it over his head. It landed next to her dress.
Her fingers found the front of his jeans, making quick work of the button and zipper.
She couldn’t help the smile that graced her lips when he slid his boxer briefs to the floor.
As he had with her, she looked him over, her breath tripping over itself as she took the view in. Much better than seven layer cake.
She didn’t know which of them moved first, but they came together in a rush.
His flesh felt strong against hers—breathtaking, warm, and real.
She began her own exploration of his body as they fell back on the bed.
Her palms ran over his arms, his back, and grasped his backside as he settled against her.
The shape of him, his weight over her, felt right.
Perched above her, he asked, “You sure, Rose? This is going to change?—”
She threaded her fingers into his hair, raising upward to press her lips to his. “No backsies,” she said, “I want you, Finn. All of you.”
He kissed her then paused, pushing himself back up. “I have condoms in my jeans. I always use them.”
Condoms. Plural. She raised an eyebrow even as her fingertips traced circles over his chest. “I’m on birth control. I’ve always required the use of condoms.”
Finn’s jaw tightened. She assumed he also didn’t want details.
She ran her hands down his chest, his abdomen, lower, circling, teasing. “If I were ever going to go without, it would be with you.”
“I want.” His eyes sparked, darkening as he lowered his body back to hers and kissed her with a passion that curled her fingers against his back. They rolled, touched, learned the feel of one another.
She whimpered and writhed beneath him as he slipped down her body, touching and kissing her neck, her breasts, across her midriff, and then lower still, to the most intimate part of her.
His fingers, the caress of his tongue, had her clutching the strands of his hair and the sheets beneath her.
He brought her to the brink and then over.
Waves of pleasure crashed through her against his mouth, around his fingers.
She felt like she’d survived her very own storm.
He moved back up her body, positioning himself over her, even as she reached for him, wrapping her legs around him.
Their eyes met as their bodies joined. She couldn’t look away.
The way he felt inside her. The connection between them.
It was like nothing she’d felt before. Their lips brushed as he moved.
Her hips rose to meet each thrust. A sound she didn’t recognize left her lips when the pace of his movements increased.
She arched in answer, tightening her grasp around his arms as if the strength in each was a tether.
Her breath, her whimpers became desperate as pleasure built inside her.
Her hands slid down his body, searching for his.
Their fingers touched. She cried out, his name on her lips, as her body quaked with release.
He followed her in climax, his breath heavy against her neck as he collapsed against her.
She locked her legs around him, reluctant to let go despite the sheen of sweat over her skin.
They lingered, remaining wrapped around each other until he rolled off of her onto his back.
Finn kept hold of her hand as if he still needed to touch her.
It centered her thoughts, her feelings. Her mind lacked adjectives for their lovemaking.
The mattress shifted as he turned toward her.
She glanced at him. He was watching her.
His expression mirrored how she felt—wrecked in an incredible way.
And when he lifted her hand and pressed his lips to her palm, she knew that if this thing between them didn’t work out, the devastation would destroy her.