Making Home with You

by Claire Raye

  “In that case,” I say, gently easing her back. “Let’s go check in.”

  Our room is an ocean front suite on the second floor, the king bed perfectly positioned to take in the huge ocean views. There’s a private balcony too, and a living area with a large sofa in front of a fireplace.

  “Fuck, this is amazing,” Sarah whispers as she walks around, taking everything in.

  I drop our bags on the chair by the fireplace, which has already been lit and is creating a cozy warmth for the whole room, and leave the box I picked up at the pub on the side table before following Sarah into the bathroom.

  “Check out this tub!” she says, gesturing toward it. “And this view, holy shit!”

  She’s right, the tub is amazing. Huge and right up against another large window with the same ocean views.

  “Wanna try it out?” I suggest.

  “Yes!” she says, turning on the faucets. I laugh and grab her hand, pulling her close and pressing a hard kiss to her lips. “Thank you, Finn,” she whispers, looking up at me. “This is all so perfect.”

  I grin. “There’s still more,” I say, pulling her out of the bathroom now.

  I grab the box I picked up and open the top, amazed at what Carlo has been able to put together for us in such a short time. Inside, there is a huge charcuterie platter that’s laden with cheeses, meats, dips, olives and all sorts things. Also included is a bread stick, a box of handmade chocolate truffles, as well as a box of macaroons and the wine I picked up.

  “Oh my god,” Sarah whispers as she takes everything in. “You organized this too?”

  “Organized yes, but obviously Carlo put it all together. Thought maybe we could enjoy this in front of the fire tonight?”

  Sarah turns to face me now, her eyes shining as she looks up at me. Stepping nearer to me, she slides her hands around my waist and pulls me against her. “I can’t believe you did all this for us,” she whispers.

  “I just wanted to do something nice for you,” I say, leaning down to press a kiss against her lips.

  “Mission accomplished,” she murmurs. “Now, let’s get these clothes off and get in that tub! It looks like it’s big enough to fuck in.”

  I burst out laughing even as I start to peel my clothes off. “Such a romantic, baby,” I tease, swatting her on the ass as she squeals and runs into the bathroom.

  We spend over an hour soaking in the tub. Sarah’s right, it is big enough to fool around in and we make full use of it for that exact purpose. By the time we finally get out, the sun is setting and dark clouds threatening rain have come in, creating a perfect atmosphere.

  Grabbing the thick fluffy bathrobes, we move out to the living area, Sarah pours us both a glass of wine as I set out all the food on the small coffee table.

  “I think this is the most relaxed I’ve felt in forever,” she says, flopping down onto the couch.

  “Hmmm,” I say, sitting beside her and pulling her feet into my lap. “Your body certainly felt soft and supple in that tub.”

  Sarah gently nudges me with her toes and I grin, lifting them to my mouth and gently nibbling on her foot. Everything about this moment feels perfect. As though my job and all the shit that’s happening with Carla, the stress of Sarah’s commute and the job she doesn’t like, a million miles away.

  “What are you thinking about,” Sarah whispers, as though she notices the change in me, in us. I smile as my fingers start to massage her foot. “Oh god,” she moans, head falling back against the couch. “Has anyone ever told you, you have magic fingers?”

  I grin, even though she isn’t looking at me before I slide my fingers up her leg. “I think you might have mentioned it once or twice,” I whisper, teasing the skin of her inner thigh.

  Sarah slides down a little, her eyes closing as her other leg falls off the couch, her robe parting below the waist so her pussy is now bared to me.

  “Fuck you’re beautiful,” I whisper, sliding my fingers higher, brushing over her lips, before gently parting them.

  “Finn,” she groans, my name a low whisper as it falls from her mouth.

  I slip my finger through her wetness before moving it higher, running over her clit before moving back down and slowly easing it inside her, smiling as she lets out another groan. “You want me to stop, baby?” I ask.

  “No, god no,” she says, her hands moving to the belt of her robe, yanking it apart so it falls completely open.

  I watch, mesmerized as her fingers move to her breasts, teasing her own nipples. I can’t take my eyes off her, can’t stop myself as I slide a second finger inside her, gently pumping them in an out as I slowly rub at her clit with my thumb.

  Here, in the darkness of the room, her body lit by the warm glow of the firelight, the only sounds that of the rain now falling against the windows and Sarah’s low moans as I slowly get her off, everything else feels a million miles away.

  “God you’re so wet,” I whisper, slowly upping the tempo of my fingers.

  “So…so turned on,” Sarah stammers, her breathing heavy now as though she’s fighting to stay in control.

  “I want you to come, Sarah,” I whisper, my words a low command.

  “Oh, Finn…fuck, yes.” Her words come out in a jumble as her body moves against my hand now, wanting more, pushing herself closer and closer. I watch as she pinches her nipples, her back arching off the couch until she can’t take it anymore as she finally lets go, her pussy clenching around my fingers as she comes hard.

  Eventually, Sarah opens her eyes, her face flushed and relaxed as she looks over at me. Smiling, I slowly pull my fingers from her, sucking them clean while she watches.

  “You okay over there?” I ask, sliding my hand up her torso until it rests against her chest.

  “God, yes,” she says, her voice husky.

  “You ready for some food?” I ask, gesturing to the table.

  Sarah grins now, an evil glint in her eye as she sits up, reaches over and unties my bathrobe. My dick, now hard as a rock, springs between us and I watch as Sarah takes it in her hand as she crawls toward my lap.

  “Yes,” she whispers, glancing up at me from hooded eyes before lowering her mouth over my dick so it’s me groaning and sinking back against the couch.

  Despite my intentions for us to get out and explore the town, the weather and our inability to keep our hands off each other keeps us in the room for the rest of our stay. I don’t mind though and while we do take the tub for another spin in addition to making the most of the huge king size bed we have, we also spend a lot of time talking and getting to know each other even more.

  We avoid all talk of our jobs and instead Sarah tells me what her family is like, how she’s the baby of the family, who was constantly trying to keep up with her older siblings. I learn that she and Ryan are close, always have been and despite him kicking her out of his Boston apartment almost a year ago, there’s nothing but love between the two of them.

  In return, I tell her about my childhood. About growing up in Rockport and all the shit me and Beck used to get up to. She laughs when I tell her how we used to steal booze from the pub Granddad ran before Pop and then Beck took over.

  “I used to steal it from my parent’s liquor cabinet,” she says. “Or Ryan’s room when he wasn’t home.”

  “I’ll bet he loved that?” I say.

  “Well,” she says, shrugging. “He had a good fake ID,” she adds. “But he wouldn’t tell me where he got it from, so I figured he could be my middle man instead.”

  I laugh. “It’s good you guys have such a good relationship,” I say, pulling her closer.

  We’re lying in bed, both of us trying to avoid the conversation about getting up and heading back to Rockport, even though we can only push the late check-out for another hour or so.

  “Were you and Beck always close?” she asks.

  I shrug. “Yes and no. Growing up, definitely, particularly after Mom died and Dad was working al
l the time,” I tell her, remembering how we’d somehow grown closer in our grief even though neither of us had actually talked about it. “But when he took off for Boston, we pretty much fell out, stopped talking to each other for a really long time,” I say, letting out a long exhale.

  “That must have been hard,” she says, turning so she can prop her chin on my chest and look up at me.

  I smile at her, brushing the hair back from her face and tucking it behind her ear. “It was, yeah,” I admit. “Even though he was my brother, we were also best friends. I missed him when he left. Was pissed when he felt like none of us were good enough for him anymore.”

  “Do you really think that’s what he felt?” she asks, smoothing a hand across my chest.

  I shrug. “Partly,” I confess, surprised at how easy this is to talk about with her. I’ve never really talked about it with anyone, not even Kelsey when both of us used to vent to each other about how angry we were with him.

  “But I also get that small-town life wasn’t what he wanted, at least back then anyway. I get he needed to go find himself or something.”

  Sarah chuckles. “And what about you, you didn’t need to go find yourself and what you wanted?”

  I look down at her as she lies against me, her beautiful blue eyes staring back at me. As I do, I can’t help but wonder if maybe I have been looking for what I wanted all these years, only I just didn’t realize it. And that what I was looking for wasn’t a place or a thing or a job.

  It was her.

  Sarah.

  The person I wanted, and now realize, I need in my life.

  Sarah continues to stare up at me, an easy smile on her face as she waits for my answer. Swallowing hard, I take a deep breath and say, “I think maybe I was always just looking for you, Sarah,” my voice low as I force myself to say words I never thought I’d be able to admit out loud.

  A shy smile tugs at Sarah’s mouth as she slowly slides up my body. “Who knew you were such a romantic,” she whispers, mouth against mine, before silencing any more talk with a deep kiss.

  By the time we get back to Rockport, it’s after seven. Dropping Sarah at my place so she can do some more work on the job Kelsey’s passed on to her, I head out to the shops to find something for dinner.

  As I pull into the parking lot of the supermarket, I can’t help but notice how relaxed I feel. How this weekend away with her was exactly what I needed. And even though none of the shit I’m dealing with at work or with Carla has disappeared, right now it somehow feels less stressful than before.

  Grabbing a basket by the front doors, I wander the aisles, waiting for inspiration to strike about what to make for dinner. My relaxed mood quickly disappears however, as I round the corner of the dairy section and see Carla, maneuvering a cart at me.

  “Fuck,” I bite out, quickly turning and walking in the opposite direction.

  “Finn!” she calls out, apparently already having seen me.

  I ignore her, heading quickly toward the exit so I can get the fuck out here. But I’m not quick enough and as I come to the end of the cereal aisle, a hand grabs my arm, sharp nails digging in through my sweater.

  “Finn, wait,” Carla says, breathless and apparently oblivious to the fact I have no desire to speak to her.

  “No,” I say sharply, pulling my hand from her grasp. “We can’t do this.”

  “But Finn,” she starts, stepping in front of me and blocking my path. “I just want to talk.”

  I take a deep breath, force myself to remain calm as I try to figure out the best way to take care of the situation without fucking up the investigation or anything. “We can’t talk, Carla,” I say. “You know that.”

  “Oh come on,” she says, a dismissive wave of her hand. “That’s just a suggestion,” she adds as though the fact she’s accused me of sexual assault is all just a minor detail and not something that could potentially ruin my life. “We don’t have to avoid each other, Finn, you know that.”

  My jaw clenches and it takes everything I have in me to remain in control. “Yes we do, Carla,” I bite out. “You made damn sure of that when you made up all those lies about me,” I add. “So if you’ll excuse me, I’m leaving before you start dreaming up something else that allegedly happened between us.”

  I turn and walk away, ignoring her even as she calls out my name again.

  Inside my car, I let out a long exhale, my chest tight as though I’ve been holding in a breath this whole time. “Fucking hell,” I mutter, pulling out my phone so I can document this latest encounter in my notes to email Detective Greenwood tomorrow.

  Knowing I can’t possibly risk running into Carla again, I pull out of the parking lot and head over to the one place I know she won’t go anymore, O’Loughlin’s. Inside, I place my order with the young waitress who served us last time we were in here, before grabbing a beer while I wait for it to be prepared.

  Beck isn’t working and it allows me a few minutes of peace to calm down before I head home to Sarah. I definitely don’t want to walk in feeling the way I’m currently feeling, not when the bliss of our weekend away still lingers. For her, anyway.

  Eventually our dinner is ready, so taking a deep breath, I finish my beer and head home, determined not to let my recent encounter fuck up the rest of the night.

  The next morning, Sarah leaves at the ass crack of dawn to head down to Boston, something about her boss needing her in early for a meeting that my sleep-deprived brain only half makes sense of.

  I drift back to sleep until my alarm rings out, dragging me from bed and into the kitchen for coffee. After a quick shower, I dress, grabbing my gun and cuffs from the safe before heading out to the garage. Just as I start up the car though, my phone pings out with a text message.

  Frowning at the unknown number that flashes up on my screen, I open the message and discover a video attachment, the image masked by the large arrow that starts the playback.

  Instinctively I look around, even though my car is still inside the garage and it’s only a text video. Swallowing hard, I hit the play button and watch as my living room comes into the focus, the image now turning into a silent movie in front of me.

  A movie starring me.

  And Sarah.

  Fucking in my living room after she came home from dinner the other night.

  “Fucking hell,” I yell, punching the steering wheel in frustration.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Sarah

  It’s insanely early when I step off the train and onto the platform, so early in fact, that most normal people are still in bed.

  I thought about driving, but I knew the traffic home would be much worse than my seventy-eight-minute train ride. The weather is finally starting to break, which means all those commuters who avoided the highway will be back on it, making the gridlock traffic unbearable.

  I have little patience left and I imagine after my “meeting” today it will be nonexistent. So the last thing I need is to be stuck in traffic and raging.

  The weekend was amazing and I try to focus on that as I navigate the fairly empty sidewalks. My week had been complete shit and to have Finn surprise me with a weekend away made it all disappear. He’s incredibly thoughtful, because this weekend was about us, about me, despite the fact that he’s going through some major shit.

  I’m trying to keep calm, but my body is a mix of anxiety, fear and anger, and I feel like my skin is crawling as I think about what is going to happen when I walk into that office and find Andrew waiting for me.

  My head is down when I reach the revolving door to the office building so I barely notice the uniformed officer standing outside it.

  “Sarah,” the officer calls out and I lift my head. Just the sound of my name can strike fear in me now, but the voice isn’t one I recognize immediately. But I do recognize the face.

  “Joe?” I question, wondering why he’s here and why he’s in a uniform. “What are you doing here?” But he do
esn’t need to answer; I know immediately.

  I cock my head to the side and look right at him, a sheepish grin on his face.

  “Your brother,” he responds, shrugging his shoulders and I give a little laugh that’s also laced with relief.

  Joe and I met back when I was living with Ryan here in Boston, and to be honest I think Ryan hoped I’d end up with Joe. While he’s a great guy, Ryan had little knowledge of his mad crush on a local paramedic.

  “So, I thought I’d head upstairs with you,” he says, gesturing toward the doors with an open hand.

  “What have you been told?” I ask, because besides my admission of Andrew’s harassment, I have told people very little.

  “Just that your boss is a dick and he makes you uncomfortable.”

  “Yeah, that’s pretty much the gist of it.” When we get into the elevator I look over at Joe and ask, “What’s with the uniform?”

  “Scare tactic,” he replies, chuckling a little and it makes me smile. There’s nothing I wish for more than to scare the shit of Andrew.

  “He’s going to question me on why I’m not alone,” I say, my nervousness over the situation returning.

  “I know, and I have an idea, but really Sarah, instead of having me scare your boss, you should report him.”

  I nod, once again silent on the issue, because Andrew’s words replay in my head.

  And don’t go running to HR. Been there, done that and no one gives a fuck.

  “I’m sure you don’t need a lecture on harassment, but if you’re uncomfortable, that’s exactly what it is. And I’m sure you’re not the only one who feels this way.”

  “I know I’m not the only one, but it seems to be an unspoken rule that we don’t report him.”

  Joe looks over at me, his eyes serious and his tone firm. “Rules are made to be broken, Sarah.”

  When the elevator door opens on the fourteenth floor, everything is dim, only the overnight lights illuminate the hallways, but Andrew is standing just in front of the door.

  He waits for me to step out, my is heart racing and my hands are shaking as he reaches out to grab my wrist. I pull back, my face twisting up into a grimace, but that’s when he notices Joe.