Chapter 17
“Haven’t I seen you somewhere before?”
“Yes, that’s why I stopped going.”
Adelaide
There is no denying that he’s got something impressive there.
Finn clears his throat as he closes his car door and starts the car.
“Forget that was a window?” He pastes on his smirk and shifts his hips, opening his mouth for what I’m sure will be bullshit, but I cut him off, “Just be real for a change; no need to get cocky.”
We both freeze. Neither one of us is willing to move a muscle until it can’t be contained, and we bust out laughing.
“Cocky.” When Finn repeats it, the snort-laughs start.
“Oh my God. Sorry, that was too funny.” I swipe a finger behind my glasses, dabbing at the tears. “What’s the plan? What are we doing?” I shift in my seat to face him as he whips his car out of the space at the back of the lot.
“I had a plan, though it’s all kind of gone to shite now with getting stuck at the pub for so long. Are you hungry? We could go get something to eat.”
I’ve thought some horrible things about Finn and his driving.
Who could blame me after he almost hit me and the way I’ve seen him zipping around town.
But watching the way he handles the little hatchback, the confidence he has here, it not only matches how he moved in the chaos behind the bar, but it’s also somehow better.
“I could eat.” And I lose a little hold on my decorum as I watch him palm the stick shift, the way he grips it and strokes it like he’s stroking himself.
He shifts in his seat and glances at me. I quickly look back up, hoping I didn’t get caught staring, but—
“Whatcha looking at?” He quirks an eyebrow as he pulls into an impossibly tight parking spot at a restaurant.
“Nothing,” I huff out.
He parked so that I have more space on my side of the car, so watching him slide his lean body out of his barely cracked door takes all of my attention. Hips flexing, ass tight, legs driving him up and out.
My hand clutches the door handle, knuckles going white as I grip it tightly. By the time Finn’s around the car, opening my door, I have my breath under control, though my libido seems to be marching right along without a care in the world.
“You all right?” He puts his hand out to help me from the low seat.
Much as I need the help, I insist that I don’t—because I’m not sure I can handle the contact—and almost wipe out as my feet hit a slippery spot on the ground.
Finn catches me with a large hand firmly planted high on my waist, high enough that his thumb is almost grazing my boob.
And the smug smile tells me he knows he’s close.
“You sure you’re okay?” he asks.
He’s getting to me in more ways than he knows.
After the rocky start, we have a surprisingly normal dinner. My burger is perfectly pink and juicy, dripping in cheese, mushrooms sliding off the bun. My double-fried fries melt the mayo as I dip them.
“So, you came here for college and couldn’t bear the thought of leaving?” Finn asks before licking some ranch off his thumb.
I’m wound so tight, everything he does makes me shift in my seat, seeking relief.
“Kind of. The program was great, and my scholarship was amazing, but I stayed”—I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a petulant brat; maybe I am—“to win a passive-aggressive battle with my dad. He’s a super-conservative lawyer, and he doesn’t appreciate my style.
” I shrug, laughing a bit. “He’d rather I have golden highlights and clutch my pearls instead of my ever-changing hair and my pierced nose.
” I watch Finn for his reaction. We’ve hardly had a conversation, let alone a serious one touching on my less than conventional looks.
“What about you? Came for the women? Using the accent to its fullest potential?”
“Eh, no.” He smiles, embarrassed. Maybe rueful. “I had an incident in Dublin and felt the need for a new start.” He shoves a huge bite of his bacon cheeseburger in his mouth, darting his tongue along the seam of his lips.
I mentally shake the lust away, trying to focus on our conversation. Conversation, good, Adelaide. Fucking him with your eyes, bad.
“There’s more to that story, Finn. You’re going to have to tell me.” That wasn’t flirty at all, and the wink didn’t really count. I might have potentially had dust in my eye. Or something.
“Ehm, well…” His blush comes hard and fast, but an answer doesn’t.
Finn concentrates intensely on his fries, popping three into his mouth. Again with the licking of his fingers.
Why am I so focused on his mouth?
“I had an incident with my Humanities professor that ended poorly. My married Humanities professor.” His smile is tight as he spins his pint glass back and forth on the table.
“She kept her position, and I was asked to quietly leave university. My mum and dad told me to figure it out, so I did. I bought a plane ticket and came to visit my uncle in New York, and he hooked me up with a job.” He shrugs and finally dances his eyes up to meet mine. And he’s biting his damn lip.
“Wow, so…a married woman?” I stare at him, not quite sure what else to say.
“It was four years ago. I’ve learned a lot since then,” he says earnestly.
There’s an awkward pause, and then, with my eyes bugging out, I bust out laughing, my mind completely falling into the gutter. “I’m sure you have,” I jeer.
“That is not what I meant.” Finn laughs with me. “Christ, not what I meant at all.”
We finish dinner and move on to discussions of Finn’s seven siblings and the multitude of ways I’ve embarrassed my dad. Then, my work and his renewed thoughts of taking college classes.
Finn pays our bill and drives us back to my car at McBride’s. He slides his car in next to mine. When he cuts the engine, his playlist continues softly with an amazing mix of indie and alternative rock.
“Thank you for sticking round and having dinner with me.” He bites his lip and winks.
The wink has an entirely different effect than it used to. Or maybe I’m just really horny, but whatever. All I can think of is the way his lips feel and how sweet he’s been.
Finn leans closer, tongue flicking across his bottom lip, drawing my gaze there. Again.
What starts out as a chaste, wholly appropriate good-night kiss is not nearly enough. The memory of our first kiss and all the lip-biting and finger-licking. The stick-shift-stroking, the cock-adjusting. I need more.
Unbuckling my seat belt, I plant my hand on the dashboard and push closer, deepening the kiss. But it’s still not enough. I reach down between his legs and release the bar, sliding his seat all the way back.
Finn’s eyes snap wide open, and a surprised smile stretches across his face. “Thanks for the ride.”
I climb over the center console and settle on his thighs, straddling him. “Don’t ruin this, Finn,” I say against his lips, running my hands up his chest, grasping the zipper to open his jacket.
He pulls me closer, hands on my hips, grinding me on his very impressive cock.
Very impressive.
My elbow hits the steering wheel controls for the radio, raising the volume of the music, and the beat of the drum and thump of the bass fill the car.
Finn pulls me against his chest, hands sliding up to push my cardigan down my arms. He leaves it wrapped around my wrists, trapping my hands behind me.
There’s no hiding my boobs like this, and the way he’s staring is hungry and raw.
He skims his hands up my waist, pausing high on my rib cage.
The anticipation is killing me. It’s like he knows exactly where to touch me, how hard or light, to caress or squeeze.
I lean in, ravenously kissing him, grinding down on him, fighting to free my hands.
There’s not nearly enough room in the front seat of this car, and in my struggle, I hit the steering wheel, blaring the horn.
“Christ, Addie. You’re driving me mad.” He pulls me tight against his cock, the pressure bringing me dangerously close to orgasm.
The windows are fogged, the air in the car heavy with lust. I’m so close. So fucking close.
“Finn, ’re you in there?” a very drunk female voice calls from outside the passenger side of his car.
We both freeze, panting and frustrated but trying to be completely still.
“D’ you leave your car running, Finny?” The shadow of a palm is faintly outlined against the window by a streetlamp. “Finn?” Her singsonging his name is cut off by someone calling, “Marlee?”
Fingers trail away, a door slams, and the other car takes off, crunching gravel beneath the tires. It feels like we’ve been holding our breaths forever until it finally spills out in stuttered laughter.
“I guess I should go.” I’m just as stuck, trying to get back into my sweater, as I was getting out of it.
Finn grasps the sides, sliding it up my arms, his knuckles resting against the swell of my boobs. “Maybe,” he says gravelly. “Can I see you again though? I liked this—tonight.”
“I’d like that.”
He pulls me in for a sweet kiss before opening his door. He crawls out after me and makes his adjustments as we round the back of his car.
“Good night, Addie.” Finn tucks me into my car with a final kiss.
I let it go, not correcting him this time.