Heartthrob

by Robin Bielman

  “Oh, it’s on,” Finn counters.

  I bump him out of the way so I can pass through the doorway into the laundry room first. I’m not delusional, I know he lets me lead, and when I look over my shoulder at him, his playful mug confirms it.

  He pursues me for all of three seconds before taking the lead.

  We can’t have that, can we?

  “Ow!” I cry out. (Side note: before my dad homeschooled me, I was in every drama performance possible at school.) I limp to the kitchen counter to lean on it for fake support.

  Finn puts on the brakes, spins around. “Shit. Did you twist your ankle?” He rushes over and lifts me up onto the counter like I weigh nothing. “Let me see.”

  I wasn’t expecting that, so I adjust my ill-thought-out plan. “Maybe get me some ice?” I say, neither confirming nor denying I hurt my ankle. Maybe I like to chew on ice. Maybe I want to put it down his shirt. Or his pants. Who knows?

  “Sure.” He steps around the counter toward the fridge. With his back to me, I stealthily hop down and run for the stairs. “Gotcha!” I shout after a head start.

  Now before you get mad at me for pulling such a stunt, remember Finn is a professional athlete who can run a six-minute mile, while even if a pack of skunks were chasing my ass, I’d maybe run a nine-minute one.

  “Oh, you want to play dirty, do you?” Finn calls after me.

  “Only with you!”

  I’m halfway up the stairs when Finn scoops me up. “Hey, put me down!”

  “When I’m good and ready.” All my wiggling is useless against his strong hold. “Looks like it’s a tie,” he says when we get to the top.

  I go limp in his arms. He laughs.

  “What am I going to do with you?” he jests.

  I sigh in dramatic fashion. “Punish me, I guess.”

  He stops in his tracks, narrows his eyes. “What exactly are you saying?”

  “Take me to your Red Room, Mr. Auprince,” I tease.

  “What?” Finn’s pinched eyebrows and twisted mouth are adorable. I think he’s clueless, not repulsed by the idea.

  “Fifty Shades of Grey?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “You are shitting me. Everyone’s heard of Christian Grey.”

  “Oh, you mean the character from League of Extraordinary Gentlemen.” He resumes walking down the hall.

  “No, goofball! That’s Dorian Gray.”

  “I know. I’m just messing with you.”

  I swat him in the chest.

  He drops me on his bed. Traps me between his arms. It’s a nice trap. I could survive in this trap for a very long time. “However, besides the title, I truly am unfamiliar with Fifty Shades of Grey.”

  I’m not really that surprised. Finn doesn’t follow a lot of pop culture, and probably none at all during baseball season. “The Red Room was where Christian Grey showed his true sexual proclivities. Lots of pain and pleasure.”

  “It was a book and a movie, right?”

  “Right.”

  “And are you telling me your proclivities lean that way?”

  “Pleasure, yes.”

  He tips his head down, takes my earlobe between his teeth. He bites just hard enough for me to feel the sweet sting between my legs. “And pain?”

  “A minute ago, I would have said ‘no way’ but that felt pretty good.”

  “Yes to nibbles then,” he says, his voice husky. “Anything else?”

  I stare up at him. There’s nothing I won’t do with this man. The realization hits me hard. I’ve never given up full control to my previous partners. “I don’t know, but I’d be willing to try things. If you wanted to.”

  “There’s nothing I want more than to make you feel…” he grazes his teeth along my neck, and electricity sparks up and down my limbs “…like I can’t get enough of you. You are magnificent, Chloe, incredibly soft and strong, delicate and vibrant. Did I tell you how gorgeous you are in this dress?” He drags down the zipper on my side.

  I feel his affection in my bones. I’m melting, lost in Finn Land. “You did. You look gorgeous, too,” I whisper to him.

  He pulls down the bodice of my gown. I wriggle to help, freeing my arms and then combing my fingers through his hair when he flicks his tongue over one rigid nipple, then the other.

  “I have an idea.” He tows the rest of my dress down my body, leaving me in only a lacy thong. His eyes rake over my body, hungry. Eager.

  “What’s that?” I get to my knees. Finn stands at the foot of the bed so I undo a button on his shirt. Move down to the next one.

  “We could watch the movie and anything you want to try, we can try.”

  I concentrate on his buttons. “I have a better idea.”

  “What’s that?” he echoes.

  “I could read the book to you.” I finish the last button.

  He tilts my chin up with his knuckle. We lock eyes. “I’d like that.”

  “Should we start tonight? I think I saw you have an iPad.”

  “After.” He works his belt off, then starts on his tuxedo pants. His socks and shoes go, too.

  My jaw drops. “You went to a black tie wedding commando? How did I not notice this?”

  His grin, in combination with the devilish twinkle in his eyes, is on a level that defies any word I may come up with to describe how freaking sexy he is. I scan down his muscular torso, stopping at the now very hard evidence.

  “After what?” I ask, remembering what I meant to ask.

  “I do you my way,” he says, flipping me onto my stomach, where he proceeds to touch and kiss every inch of exposed skin. His fingers slip under my panties, stroke me just right. I grind against his hand, unbidden.

  “Finn.”

  He rips off my thong like he has laser vision, the dainty material simply falling apart. All I know is the only thing between me and the bed now, is Finn’s mouth. He tastes me from behind, lifting my hips just enough to give him access, and it is heaven. His clever tongue flicks and licks and when I feel the pad of his finger at my rim, I come so hard I see the stars he promised.

  My heart is still pounding when I hear him open a foil packet. His hands find my waist to ease me toward the edge of the bed. My legs fall to the floor so I’m leaning over, my booty in the air. His tip finds my wet and ready entrance and with one smooth thrust, he buries himself. He drives into me, every surge of his hips better than the last, hitting a spot inside me that’s been untouched until now.

  His hands roam and rub my sweetest spots. One kneads my breast. The other taps between my legs. I fall into my second orgasm. More intense. More powerful.

  Finn’s release follows, gripping my hips, inhaling sharply, then letting it go.

  He kisses my shoulder blade. “I’m going to grab a quick shower. Come join me.”

  Quick does not happen. Instead, we wash each other’s bodies from head to toe. Shampoo each other’s hair—Finn is excellent at bubbly scalp messages. Talk about the wedding. And then tender turns to desperate. Finn somehow produces a condom and takes me against the shower wall while I straddle his hips, his sculpted legs easily holding my weight. Mind-blowing pleasure finds me once again. The sounds of our lovemaking echo off the tile walls. We pant. Moan. Strain against one another as our slick bodies make a slapping noise that is erotic and wild and passionate.

  We come together, my nails digging into his shoulders. He has one palm on my ass, the other around the side of my neck. Eyes locked on one another, we stay like that until our very last tremors have stilled.

  A little while later, I read to Finn in bed.

  I get a warm, mushy feeling in the middle of my chest as he listens attentively.

  I fall harder for him.

  I wonder how in the world I’m going to come out of this with my heart intact.

  Chapter Twenty

  #BasesLoaded

  Finn

  I sit on Chloe’s bed, waiting for her to come out of the bathroom. Her suitcase is p
acked for her trip back east and we’ve got about an hour this morning before I have to drive her to the airport. I bought her a scarf since it’s freezing in New Jersey, and after squealing with happiness at the sight of it, she ducked out of the room to try it on. It’s not her Christmas gift—that she’ll get when she returns a week from today. I’m planning to whisk her away to Big Sur.

  I lace my fingers behind my head and look around the bedroom I’ve got memorized. Seven days without her is going to suck. We’ve been inseparable the past couple of weeks. My days are better when she’s in them, my new routine going as follows: workout with Dwayne, work with Chloe on social media tasks, walk hand-in-hand on the beach with Chloe, goof around with Chloe at each other’s houses, watch Netflix with Chloe, have sex with Chloe, listen to Chloe read, have more sex with Chloe, fall asleep with Chloe in my arms.

  As you can see, there’s a lot of Chloe.

  Six weeks ago, I would have thought you were high if you said I’d be spending this much time with the same woman. Now, I can’t imagine my life without her. I don’t want to. Somehow, I’ve got to convince her to make this a permanent deal.

  “What do you think?” she says.

  My gaze snaps up from the foot of the bed to the bathroom doorway. Chloe stands there, hand on her hip, in nothing but the maroon scarf artfully placed around her neck and chest and a tiny pair of white underwear. I think I fucking love her, that’s what I think.

  All that killer bare skin has my dick instantly pressing against the zipper of my jeans.

  “Get over here and I’ll show you,” I say.

  She saunters toward me, sliding the scarf into a different configuration. I look everywhere at once, up her toned legs to her stomach, her pert dark pink nipples, her lush mouth, her smiling eyes. She stops just out of reach.

  “I’m going to wear it every day. I love it.”

  “And I’ll think of you wearing it—like this—every day.”

  “That’s what I was hoping for.”

  “Mission accomplished.” I scoot to the edge of the bed, plant my feet on the floor, and palm her ass to haul her between my legs. Making love to her is exactly how I hoped we’d spend our time before leaving for the airport. I kiss along her rib cage, enjoying the way her muscles tense under my mouth. Her skin is like a sunny day in spring, her scent feminine, fun, and forever in my memory.

  She places her hands on my shoulders. “I do take hijacking your mind seriously.”

  I look up at her. “Yeah?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I’ve got a secret for you.”

  “Okay.”

  “You’re stuck in my mind no matter what you do.” The closer I get to spring training, the baseball side of my brain says this could be a big problem, but right now I’m not on the field. Right now, I lower my head to bite and suck the skin near her belly button so she’ll have my mark on her when she leaves. I soothe it with a kiss and then admire my work.

  She examines the blemish then giggles. “No one’s ever done that to me before.”

  No one’s ever touched her many of the ways I have. Thank you, Fifty Shades. It’s on my agenda to scope out other erotic novels she can read to me.

  “Get on the bed,” I instruct.

  She doesn’t hesitate, jumping onto the mattress with gusto. The way she responds to me is unlike anything.

  I’m about to strip when the doorbell rings.

  “Are you expecting someone?” I ask.

  “No.” Indecision pulls her brows together. Answer the door or ignore it? It’s most likely a salesperson selling something we don’t need.

  It rings a second time.

  “Damn it. I better see who it is.” She zips into the bathroom to pull on her clothes in record time, replying, “No, that’s okay,” when I ask if she’d like me to answer it.

  We walk to the front door together. She opens it.

  “Leo?” Chloe says to the man standing on her front porch.

  Leo? Ex-boyfriend Leo? What the hell is he doing here?

  “Hi, Chloe.” His eyes shift from Chloe to me then back to her.

  “What are you doing here?” she says.

  My thoughts exactly.

  “I was hoping we could talk. Do you have a few minutes?” Something in his voice tells me the talk isn’t about the weather, and I clench my fists.

  Chloe and I agreed we were exclusive, but we’re not official, which means she can talk to whatever douche she wants without my input. I put my hand on her waist, reminding her I’m here, and that she should shut the door in this guy’s face so we can pick up where we left off in her bedroom.

  Instead she says, “Is everything okay?”

  I’m guessing if he says yes, she’ll say adios. If he says no, she’ll talk to him. She’s got a big heart. And she’s curious by nature. Shit. This guy doesn’t deserve her time, but glancing at her out of the corner of my eye, I see the wheels turning.

  “Can I come in?” he asks. “I’d like to talk to you privately.”

  “I was just getting ready to leave for the airport,” she says.

  “Going back east for Christmas with your aunt?”

  I feel Chloe visibly soften under my hand, the reminder that Leo knows her well a strong argument for giving him a few minutes. They share a past. One where she thought he was going to put a ring on her finger. I want to bash this guy’s face in for hurting her at the same time I want to thank him. His loss was my gain.

  Chloe is not cursed. She just hadn’t met me yet.

  She looks up at me with an unreadable expression that just about kills me. “Do you mind?”

  Hell yes, I mind. “No.” I take a step back, dropping my arm. Hating that I’m no longer touching her.

  “This needs to be quick,” she says to Leo as she allows him entry.

  “I can do quick,” he says, his voice way too pleased for my liking. He struts in like he owns the place—raising the hairs on the back of my neck—and barely acknowledging me.

  Chloe wraps her arms around herself. This isn’t easy for her, and me being a jealous prick won’t help. I take the high road, because the last thing I want is for her to feel any kind of pressure from me, too.

  “I’ll wait in your room.” I kiss her cheek; glad Leo is paying attention when I do so. The small amount of satisfaction is short-lived, however, when I hear the next words to come out of his mouth.

  “I broke things off with Adele,” he says.

  “What?” is Chloe’s response.

  I lean against her open bedroom door. The small house affords me easy listening. I tell myself if they wanted complete privacy, they’d take it outside.

  “I was an idiot, Chlo. Beyond stupid to mess up what you and I had. I love you. I never stopped loving you and I want you back.”

  Silence.

  I picture my Chloe with her gorgeous face scrunched in disbelief. She certainly won’t believe this jackass, will she?

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  I press my fist to my chest, completely unprepared for the blaze of helpless anger that squeezes my lungs. Her immediate response was supposed to be: “Too bad, loser, I’m in love with someone else now.”

  Yeah, I want her to love me.

  “Say we can get back together.”

  “What about all those things you said to me the night we broke up?”

  “They were true at the time, I guess.”

  “You guess? Leo, you told me you’d fallen for someone else. That it was love at first sight and some other crap. You broke my heart when I thought you were going to propose to me.”

  The only reason I don’t hurl myself down the hall to fight for what’s mine is Chloe sounds pissed more than anything else. There’s no forgiveness or tremble in her voice to indicate I need to worry.

  “I, uh, was,” the dickhead says.

  Silence.

  Again.

  Fuck.

  “But then you met Adele,” Chloe says evenly.

  Leo
lets out a very audible breath. “Yes.”

  “Where’s Adele now? Why did you break things off?”

  “Is that really important?” Leo asks. “I want you back, baby, and I’m prepared to get on my hands and knees to beg you if that’s what it takes. I miss you.”

  “You did notice there’s someone here with me, right?”

  “Is he your boyfriend?”

  “No, not exactly.”

  The truth has never made me want to throw up as much as it does right now.

  “Then I don’t see the problem.”

  “The problem is I can’t trust you. Among other things.”

  That’s my girl. She can trust me all the way to Mars and back.

  “You can,” Leo whines. “The thing with Adele was just a blip in our relationship and I promise you it won’t ever happen again.”

  There’s some shuffling—of feet, I think. Maybe the brushing of a couch cushion.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” Leo asks.

  “She broke up with you, didn’t she?” Chloe asserts.

  He doesn’t answer.

  “Oh my God. She did. She dumped you and so you come running back to me, thinking I’ll take you back? Well guess what? That is never going to happen. I don’t want you. I don’t want anything to do with you. Adele did me a favor. I didn’t see it then, but I do now. I’m too good for you, so you can take your apology—wait a second, you didn’t even say you were sorry—you can take your pathetic ass out the door and please don’t come back.”

  “Chlo—”

  “It’s over, Leo.”

  I punch my fist in the air in victory. Although, victory isn’t really the appropriate word. I’m happy as hell Chloe didn’t overlook what her ex did, but the win is bittersweet. I have no idea what it’s like to be in either one of their shoes, but I know the woman who’s managed to snare my heart and while she handled the faceoff with Leo like a champ; she’s no doubt hurting inside. No one likes to be reminded of betrayal.

  The sound of the front door scraping open reaches my ears. “Goodbye,” Chloe says.

  “I’ll call you—”

  “No.” It’s the most unshakable “no” I’ve ever heard.

  I can’t stay hidden any longer. I walk down the hall and catch Leo leaving with his tail between his legs. Chloe shuts the door with a resounding thud.