Chapter 3 Bree
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I shouldn’t be doing this. I knew it in the core of my being.
But another part of that same core told my sensible side to shut the fuck up and enjoy every second of Finn’s lips on mine.
He knew how to kiss.
That became apparent when he palmed the back of my head, anchoring me in place and sliding his tongue into my mouth.
I melted into him, my body turning into lava as heat pooled in my belly. Whatever tomorrow brought, I didn’t care.
After the day I’d had, I deserved this one moment of feeling all the good the world had to offer.
And the fact that it came in the form of a hot firefighter, well that was just icing on the cake.
I gripped his suspenders, more for my own balance than anything, and rubbed my hips back and forth across his.
A low groan worked up from the back of his throat.
He tasted like fire and lemon, a dangerous combination that excited me in ways I couldn’t comprehend.
I reached past him, closing and locking the door.
Finn followed me, pressing my back into the door and grinding his erection into my belly.
“Finn.” I whispered his name when he broke off the kiss.
His forehead rested against mine, both of us struggling to catch our breath.
He ran his knuckles down my cheek, and I pressed my lips to the point of his chin, then nipped the skin along his neck.
“Fuck, Bree.”
“Yes.” I locked my arms around his waist. “Fuck me, Finn.”
Who he was to Mom ceased to matter. I didn’t care that I’d met him as a kid or that tomorrow I’d face more impossible decisions.
All that mattered was right here, right now.
All I wanted was to let go with this gorgeous, playful man I’d connected with in a way I’d never experienced in Boston.
His lips claimed mine in another fiery kiss. He broke it off an instant later. “Bedroom?”
“This way.” I led him down the short hallway to the room I’d claimed. Thankfully Nana had updated it since the last time I slept here, turning it into a casual guest room with a queen sized bed with a flowered blanket.
I sat on the foot of the bed with Finn’s suspenders in my grip.
I pulled him down on top of me, and he slotted a knee between my legs like it belonged there.
I ground my pelvis over his knee, reveling in the pressure. “I want you, Finn.”
“Not like this, Bree.” He kissed a trail down my neck and slipped a hand down the front of my dress. “I won’t take advantage while you’re drunk.”
“Fuck that.” I moaned when he palmed my breast. “Please, Finn. Make me forget why I came back here.”
“Bree.” The warning in his voice did nothing to persuade me.
I rocked my hips over his leg. “Please, Finn. I need this. You have no idea how much I need it.”
He looked down at me, indecision in his gorgeous eyes. “I won’t sleep with someone who won’t remember me in the morning. I’m a deviant and a flirt, but that’s where I draw the line.” But he kissed me again, scraping his teeth over my bottom lip and sending shivers down my spine.
I ran my hands underneath his shirt, tugging it free and pressing my palms to the ridges on either side of his spine.
Muscles flexed and bunched when he moved, and I slid my hands lower to cup his ass.
He rocked his hips against my leg, the length of his cock a delicious surprise I couldn’t wait to reveal.
“More.” I arched my back and tried to pull him closer at the same time.
Finn pressed a kiss to the hollow of my throat. One hand slid along my thigh underneath my dress.
“Yes.” I whimpered when his knuckles grazed my panties along my hip. “I’m going to come one way or the other tonight. If you don’t do it for me, I’ll take care of it myself.” I released his ass and settled my hand next to his.
He batted my hand away, his eyes blazing. “I’d like to see that, but not tonight. I will not fuck you, Bree, but I will give you the release you crave.” He swept my panties aside with his fingers and pressed his thumb against my clit.
“Oh, fuck.” I bucked into the pressure, fisting my hands in the sheet.
His grin turned victorious, and he tugged my dress down, baring my boobs while his fingers and thumb stroked and teased my pussy until I soaked his hand.
I reached for his pants, but he batted my hand away. “No. This is for you.”
“But–”
He sucked a nipple into his mouth, halting my protest when he sucked hard, plunging a finger inside me at the same time.
I drifted on a rising cloud of pleasure.
Finn added a second finger, working them deep and retreating in slow strokes.
His thumb circled my clit so fast it tickled, and I whimpered while shifting my hips away.
He resumed a slower pace, matching it with his fingers, curling them as he entered.
Good god this man knew what he was doing.
My body tingled all over, the increased pressure of his mouth on my nipple creating a perfect contrast that heightened every touch.
My orgasm built along my nerves, spreading throughout my body in waves that tightened in my core. I lifted my hips to meet the thrusts from Finn’s fingers.
“I’m coming. Oh god that feels so good.” I continued to mutter, my voice rising and falling with every wave that crashed over me. I hadn’t reached the ultimate peak, that epic conclusion that I craved.
Finn added a third finger, stretching me to a delicious fullness.
The pressure on my clit increased when he quicked his pace.
Knuckles slammed into me, the force of it driving me up the bed and over the edge of my climax.
A happy, woozy feeling of softness and warmth wrapped around me. Finn kissed my temple, adjusted my dress, and covered me with the blanket. “Goodnight, Bree.”
“Night.” I snuggled into the blanket and closed my eyes.
A shrill ring jolted me upright with a half-scream caught in my throat.
Where was I? Why did I smell smoke?
I swung my legs over the edge of an unfamiliar bed, wrapped the blanket around me, and stumbled from the room.
My mouth tasted like I’d eaten roadkill. I grimaced and filled a glass with water from the tap, downing it while smacking my ringing phone on the counter. “Hello?”
Damn. I should have checked the number. I squinted at the screen, but the numbers blurred together.
“Bree? It’s Declan.”
“Who?” Reality smacked me in the head, along with a royal hangover that included nausea and a throbbing headache. “Sorry, Declan. What’s going on?”
I bent over the counter, pressing my cheek to the cold surface.
“Well.” Declan’s voice rumbled. He cleared his throat. “The contractor has arrived. I thought it best not to barge in on you again, so I found your number in Maeve’s book. Did you forget you were supposed to meet with him?”
The reality I’d been trying to avoid punched through my chest. Nana’s death. The pub. My inheritance.
Finn.
My brain screeched to a halt. Where was Finn? I scanned the apartment. No Finn.
A look down proved I was still wearing my dress from yesterday. The woozy feeling returned, and I covered my eyes with both hands. “Right. Contractor. Sorry, I overslept. Tell him I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
“Need something for that hangover?” Why did his voice sound like sex? And why did my entire body respond to it like I hadn’t been with Finn last night?
Because I hadn’t been with Finn. I forced my body upright and crossed to the door. Locked.
Right. I’d gotten drunk. Finn had walked me to the door.
I must have made up the rest, because there was no sign of him anywhere and I had all my clothes on.
That was some hallucination.
“Bree?”
“Sorry. Sorry.” I moved as fast as I dared to the counter. “Hangover remedy. Yes, please. Be down soon.”
I ended the call before he could hear me puke and made my way gingerly to the bathroom.
One look in the mirror ruined any thought of making a good impression.
My hair deserved its own zipcode with all the tangles and snarls sticking up all over the place.
My dress was a mess, and my makeup looked like I’d gone a round or two with a drunk clown drawing on my face.
Fuck it.
I yanked the dress over my head and threw it into the corner of the bathroom, then paraded to the bedroom in nothing but my underwear.
Finn would never be interested in me like that. No wonder I’d made up the whole sex thing, though.
The man was hot enough to fuel any woman’s sex dreams.
Everything in my suitcase was wrinkled, but hopefully that wouldn’t matter to a man Nana had already hired. My clothing choices didn’t interfere with his payment.
I pulled on a pair of worn jeans–my favorite pair–and a soft sweater that fell mid thigh and didn’t make me look like an overinflated blimp.
“Stop that.” I pointed at myself in the mirror. “You wouldn’t say that to your friends, so stop talking to yourself like that. Better yet, stop talking to yourself at all.” I braced against the mirror and fixed my makeup the best I could without a shower and a fresh start.
Everything took too long, but I didn’t dare push my luck. I’d managed not to puke, and I’d rather hold it together through this meeting.
The pounding in my head threatened to rattle my brain out my nostrils.
I paused at the top of the stairs and closed my eyes.
Just get through the meeting.
Then I could retreat to the apartment and pass out until I felt better.
Might take a few years. If only I could hibernate my way through this fresh hell of grief.
I took the steps one at a time, my hand firm on the railing in case a bout of dizziness took me out.
Declan met me at the bottom with a glass and a bottle of aspirin. “Drink all of it. Tastes like piss, but it’ll help.”
“Know that from experience?” I tried to laugh but it hurt too much. “Who am I meeting?”
“Ronan. He’s waiting for you in the back booth. I put him back there so the light wouldn’t hurt you so much.” A slow but somehow sad smile stretched his lips.
My heart fluttered to life. “Thanks, Declan. That was nice of you. This won’t happen again.” Why did I feel the need to tell him that?
Declan shrugged as though he wondered the same thing. “I’ll be at the bar. I’d say shout if you need anything, but not sure you can.”
“You sound so smug.” I grimaced but swallowed the aspirin and the hangover concoction. He was right. I’d never tasted piss, but if I had to guess, it would taste like the awful thing sliding down my throat. I shoved the glass at him and wiped the back of my hand over my mouth. “Damn that’s awful.”
He reached behind him and picked up a cup of coffee. “See if this helps.”
“Oh fuck. I think I might love you.” I yanked the cup from his hands so fast I nearly spilled the hot liquid. The words I’d said didn’t register until I’d made it halfway across the room.
My spine stiffened, but I refused to turn around and see what possible expression he might be wearing.
Instead, I powered forward, putting on my best smile and attitude as I approached the man in the back corner booth.
Soft sunlight cut through the window and washed over his face. What was it with this town and handsome men?
First Declan and Finn, and now Ronan with his gray eyes and chestnut hair.
The sunlight caught on hints of red mixed with the feathering of white at his temples and in the short beard and mustache.
Hubba hubba.
He sat with his shoulders back, legs spread apart, and hands on the tabletop.
No wasted movement.
No bouncing foot or tapping fingers.
He sat like he could stay there all day and not be bothered to move a muscle.
Interesting.