CHAPTER 59
Emma
“We’re not supposed to be in the shower together.” I moan my protest into Finn’s chest.
I’m not sure he hears me. The hot water rushes over both of us as his hands travel everywhere on my body, sliding up and down my back, cupping my ass and breasts, and gripping the back of my thighs. I feel one of his large fingers slip along the seam of my pussy and push inside me.
I let out a long groan of pleasure.
“You like that, don’t you?”
“I have to get back to the kitchen.” He’s still not hearing me. “Everyone will be here in less than five hours. Not enough time to… five courses… Finn, please! It’s a country French menu!”
He chuckles into my ear.
His fingers know me so well now. He teases my clit with his thumb as he slowly moves in and out of me with his finger. Finn has learned the amount of pressure I can handle, the rhythm I like, and what shoots me right over the edge. He knows my body. He knows me.
“We’re not supposed to… I haven’t even decided what I’m doing for the canapés!”
“I know what I want for canapés.”
I’m about to cum all over his hand.
That’s when he removes his finger, lifts me up with his hands on the back of my thighs, and presses me against the smooth tile shower wall. He drops to his knees in front of me and I grip onto his hair.
How can he do this? How can he support my whole body with his arms over his head?
It doesn’t matter. I can’t do the math in this state of mind.
“What’re you doing… oh… Finn, please. What… oh, shit.”
His tongue laps at the entrance to my body, and then it slides up into me. He’s so good at this. Too good. It’s torture. I pull on his hair.
I’m unable to stop it.
The back of my head taps against the tile. My body sparks. An electric surge runs through me and I know there’s no coming back from this. It’s too much. Too perfect.
“Yessssss!” A white-hot explosion courses through me. I yank on Finn’s head so hard that I worry I’ve snapped his neck.
When I begin to come back to reality, I look down to be sure that Finn is still alive. I find him grinning at me.
“I love to watch you cum, Emma.”
I close my eyes. What is happening to me? I wanted this—a good man, the best man, to teach me what love feels like, what sexual satisfaction feels like.
And I’ve got what I wanted.
I need to tell him. I can’t put it off. Dammit. I don’t have a choice. It’s not right to let our relationship continue in a cloud of deception.
Finn lets me slide down the wall and onto my feet.
I’m stunned. Disoriented. He grabs me in his arms and carries me out of the shower, sits me on the countertop, and dries me off as he leaves little kisses on my face.
“You’re still shaking, baby.”
I nod. “Whose fault is that? One second I was going over the cheese course in my head, and the next—”
He laughs.
“I really have to get dressed, Finn.” I raise my eyes to his, yet again overwhelmed by the gut-wrenching beauty of this man, glistening from the shower. I let my gaze slide over his naked perfection, the sharp cut of his muscles, the slim hips, and the… he’s hard for me.
“I want to return the favor before I go.”
“Absolutely not. We can pick up where we left off later tonight—we have a horde to feed.”
I’m not sure if that was the royal “we” or if he’s being serious. He must read my mind because he says, “I want to help. It’s my family, after all, my horde of locusts.”
He helps me down from the counter, and we walk together into bedroom. Out of the corner of my eye I see that the bedroom door is open. My hand flies to my chest.
“Jasmine’s still at Tiffany’s, right?”
“Yeah, and it’s a good thing, too. You were kind of loud.”
I put on my bra and panties and grab my shirt. I struggle to get the buttons lined up, and if I can’t even dress myself I don’t know how I’ll prepare and serve a full-course gourmet meal to the MacLaines.
“Again, whose fault is that?” I slip on my denim skirt. “I have to pay better attention, because I’d never have done that if Jasmine was in the house.”
“Never?” Finn’s already dressed in a pair of tailored khakis and a form-fitting blue button-down shirt.
He absentmindedly runs his hand through the loose curls of his thick black hair, and I long to touch it.
But then I catch his reflection in the mirror, a look of alarm in his violet eyes as they’re fixed on me.
We’ve agreed to the no-sex-while-Jasmine’s-in-the-house rule, so I’m sure I haven’t said something wrong. Was it the “never” word?
Is he asking about the future? Our future? But he doesn’t continue the conversation. It’s part of the new baseline awkwardness that’s all my fault. Finn kisses the top of my head and walks toward the door.
My after-sex fog is gone. I can think clearly again. Nothing like a jolt of remembered anxiety to sober me up. I follow him downstairs to the quiet house. I head right for an apron hanging in the laundry room.
“I can make spaghetti if you need it,” Finn offers. “Country French means easy, right, because we don’t want to spoil my brothers. We’ll never get rid of them.”
I smile to myself. I’ve been organizing and planning this dinner party for a week, so I don’t think that “easy” is how I’d describe it.
The dishes themselves may be made of only fresh ingredients simply prepared and combined, but the overall effect will be one I want the whole family to remember.
Filet mignon, ratatouille, green beans almondine, and la pomme de terra pave.
It will end with the palate cleanser of fresh herb salad with crumbled blue cheese, and for dessert we’ll have an apple tart and ice cream, and a separate cheese and fruit plate for Jamie.
I’m even creating a signature cocktail I’ve named La Mystere de Mira, after Finn’s new filly. I’m going to knock their socks off.
I don’t want to disappoint Finn. He says he wants his family to stay clear, but I know him well enough by now to see that he wants to impress them. Maybe even show me off a bit.
“No spaghetti, unfortunately, but I appreciate the offer.” I pop up on my toes to leave a sweet kiss on his lips. I’m hoping this will be his cue to leave the kitchen. It’s not.
Finn grabs a chef’s knife from the magnetic strip and holds it in front of him. “I can chop. I had intensive knife training in the Navy.”
“Kitchen training?”
“No, hand-to-hand combat. But it’s the same skill, right?”
“Give me the knife, Finn.” He places it in my palm. I need to think quick. I’ll never get all this done unless he leaves me in peace. “There is something very important I need your help with, though. Something that will take a lot of physical strength.”
He perks up.
“I need ice. I’m really worried that I won’t have enough ice.”
He frowns. “We have an icemaker in the freezer and another icemaker in the butler’s pantry.”
“Yes, but I’ll need a lot more than that,” I lie. “I need… two hundred pounds of ice.”
It’s a big lie, but this dinner will crash and burn if I can’t stop Mr. Sexy from waving around knives and standing so close that I can barely bend my arms.
“Two hundred and fifty pounds,” I correct myself. Finn can probably carry two hundred pounds of ice easily. I need to slow him down however I can.
He squints at me. “Emma, you can’t possibly need that much ice. For what?”
I smile at him. “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”
He laughs and wraps me in his arms. He looks down at me, still laughing. “Please don’t. I’m enjoying life way too much lately.”
He captures my mouth with his, kissing me into a wave of desire. When we finally separate, I open my eyes to see that he’s become deadly serious.
‘You’re a lip-licking delicacy,” he whispers. I feel him grow hard against my belly. This man is insatiable. That’s nice of him.
“I can cancel tonight, Emma. Just give me the word and this all stops, and you and I…” He smiles and kisses me lightly. “Can explore other menu options.”
“Fine. Lock the front door. It’ll have to be quick.”
His face lights up. “I’ll be back in one second.”
It’s one second too many, because Summer bursts through the door and runs into the kitchen. “Yikes!” she yells. “No bodily fluids in the burgers, please!”
Finn and I separate.
“This isn’t what you think, Summer,” he says.
She waves him off. “I already know, so save it.”
“I’m going to kill Declan.” Finn storms off.
I look at Summer, shaking my head. “You’re a troublemaker. I’m the one who told you, not Declan.”
“He can take care of himself.” She grins.
“Finn was trained in knife fighting,” I warn her.
She shrugs. “Yeah, well, Declan was trained in a whole lot more than knives. Has Finn ever told you about the Somalia thing?”
“What’s a Somalia thing?”
“You should ask Evander. He tells it the best.” Summer claps her hands together. “I came to help. You want me to make hamburger patties?”
“No.” No burgers, no spaghetti. This crowd won’t know what hit them.
I love to spend time with Summer, but she’s no sous chef, that’s for sure. I need to get rid of her, too.
“You know what I just realized, Summer?”
“What?”
“I need you to pick up ice.”