“Is out with Nola. He’ll be gone for hours.”
“I don’t know…”
“It’s just a sandwich.” The look she gave him said he wasn’t pulling off that lie. It wasn’t just a sandwich, and they both knew. “Okay, it’s just a sandwich if that’s all you want it to be.”
She stared at him for the longest minute of his life until finally she dipped her chin in acquiescence. He couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across his face, so fucking thankful he was making progress with her. He didn’t know if it was because she was too tired to argue, if the thought of trekking home was too much to take, or if it was him…them. Honestly, he didn’t care as long as it bought him more time with her.
He put his back to her and bent into a crouch. “Hop on.” Glancing back in time to see her horrified expression, he laughed. “Hurry up, I wanna get you fed.”
“I am not getting on your back, Finn. For one thing, I’m in a skirt. For another, I’m not twelve.”
He raised an eyebrow as he stared at her over his shoulder. “Pretty sure we used to do this when you were eighteen, not twelve.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not eighteen, either.”
“No, you’re not. But what you are is tired.” He stood and tossed her jacket over his shoulder, then bent and scooped her right off the ground and into his arms.
Willow gasped, her hand flying to the back of his neck to hold on. “Griffin Reilly, you put me down right this second!”
“What the hell is with everyone middle-naming me lately?” he asked as he took off toward his building. He tried not to think about how amazing she felt, how even after all this time, she still fit him like they were meant to join together. Like they were pieces of the same puzzle. And puzzle pieces, no matter how long had passed since they’d been put together, still linked seamlessly.
“Well, maybe you shouldn’t act like a Neanderthal and you wouldn’t get middle-named.”
“How is me wanting to save you from how much pain you’re in being a Neanderthal?”
By degrees, she began relaxing in his arms the closer he got to his building until she was nearly boneless, her fingers tracing small, subtle patterns on the back of his neck. He wasn’t even sure she was aware she was doing it, but he was. And his cock definitely was.
“Who said anything about being in pain?”
“Don’t insult me, Willowtree. Even though it’s been a while, I still know you better than most. And I know those two lines between your brows mean you’re in some kind of pain. With how you were shifting on your feet, I assumed it was those god-awful—but really damn hot—shoes.”
She lifted one leg and glanced down at her red heels with a sigh. “They’re my favorite, but they certainly aren’t conducive to ten hours of manual labor.”
“Why didn’t you go home and change?” He shifted her enough to open the front door, then strode toward the back stairs.
“Honestly, Finn, I can walk.” She clamped her mouth shut at the look he shot her. “And I didn’t go home and change because you know Daddy. No sense in giving him any more ammunition than he already has.”
Ammunition, his ass. Anyone else in Willow’s job wouldn’t have been able to pull off half of what she had. He was absolutely certain of it. He had to clench his teeth and force himself not to say anything about what, exactly, he thought of her asshole daddy. Finn wasn’t going to open that can of worms, not now that he actually had Willow in his arms. Now that she was talking to him and not biting his head off.
Once inside his apartment, he strode straight to the couch and sat down with her in his lap.
“What—” Before she could finish her question, he slipped off her shoes, then pressed his thumb into the arch of one foot, rubbing in soft circles as he kneaded the tension away. “Oh Lord…” The words left her on a sigh. She tilted her head back, her eyes fluttering closed as she let out a moan.
And just like that, he went from half-mast to hard as fucking granite beneath her. She was perched directly on top of his cock, and there was no way she couldn’t feel it. No way she didn’t know exactly how much he wanted her. Though, that wasn’t anything new. He’d made that clear at Ty’s house and then at the hardware store. And now, if she gave him the chance, he’d make it crystal clear to her right there on his couch.
“Feel good?” His voice came out gravelly, the sound just a rough whisper between them.
There must’ve been something in his tone, because she lifted her head, her eyelids fluttering open so she could look at him. She met his gaze. And, Jesus, she was the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen. He wanted to spend an hour just reacquainting himself with her lips. Wanted to spend an hour on every inch of her body, just to make sure he didn’t miss anything new. Just to make sure he was as well acquainted with her now as he’d once been.
“We shouldn’t be doin’ this.” But her hands didn’t listen to her mouth as she reached out and traced his lips, scraped her nails through the scruff covering his jaw.
“I disagree. We should absolutely be doin’ this.”
“Everyone—”
“I don’t give a single shit about everyone. I only care about you and me. You already know where I’m at with this. What I’m feeling.” He slid his hand up from her foot, trailing his fingers along the curve of her calf muscle, kneading along the way. “Now I just need to know how you feel about it, Willowtree. So tell me what you want. You wanna try this thing with me? See if we’ve still got that spark?”
They didn’t need to see anything. The truth was there, glaring as bright as a flashing neon sign. He knew it. She knew it. He just had to wait for her to admit it.
And then the fun could start.
Oh Lord, what a day this had been. Willow had spent too many hours doing busywork just to please her daddy when she had about two dozen more pressing issues that still sat piled on her desk. Everything she’d had on her to-do list for the Fourth of July parade had been shoved to the back burner simply so she could tend to the issues her daddy thought were more important.
So she’d done everything no one else could be counted on to do. Her normal quitting time came and went, and yet she’d pushed on for hours. Hadn’t even had time for more than a package of cheese crackers from the vending machine and a bottle of water.
And then Finn had happened.
She’d been struggling with those godforsaken tables that weighed a hundred pounds, and he’d come strolling along, calm as you please and looking like sex on legs. After the day she’d had, was it any wonder she hadn’t put up much of a fight when he’d helped her, made her melt with his words, then hefted her right into his arms and carried her toward a gourmet dinner of peanut butter and banana sandwiches, like some kind of modern-day Prince Charming?
Willow had never needed a man to save her. Had, in fact, prided herself on being self-sufficient, if for nothing else than a passive aggressive jab at her daddy. But after twenty-eight years of being the only one she relied on, she couldn’t deny it was nice to just…be. Couldn’t deny it was sort of lovely having someone else want to take care of her. And not just want to, but actually push to be able to do so.
Which was obviously why she’d allowed Finn to. After the day she’d had, she’d been tired and exhausted and…weak. She’d said yes when she should’ve said no. When she should’ve gone home to her safe little guesthouse on Momma and Daddy’s property and binged on Netflix with Mac or took out her sexual frustration on a new painting instead of into Finn’s apartment where trouble was bound to turn up.
Trouble like sitting in his lap, being on the receiving end of a near-orgasmic foot rub while his erection pressed into her ass from below. While his breath ghosted over her neck. While simply being that close to him made her ache between her legs, made her clit throb with desire.
And now he questioned what she wanted? Ha! What she wanted wasn’t good for either one of them, especially her. But Lord, would it feel amazing.
“The spark between us was never in qu
estion, Finn, and you know it.” She rested her hand on his questing fingers hidden below her skirt, stilling them on her inner thigh. He traced microscopic circles on her flesh, heating her up from the inside out. Every inch of her felt that tiny touch. Every inch of her yearned for that same attention.
While they’d been intimate when they’d been teenagers, they’d only slept together once. And though it had been amazing because they’d been in love, she had no doubt he’d learned a few things in the past ten years. A few things she desperately wanted him to put into practice on her. He’d rock her world, undeniably.
“I do know it,” he said. With a hand against the small of her back, he pressed her closer. Close enough so he could trail his nose along the curve of her jaw. Close enough to breathe her in before pressing a soft kiss to the space below her ear. “I just wondered if you’d finally accepted it was still there.”
Accepted it? Of course she had. She wasn’t happy about it, but there was really no getting around it. Their connection was plain as day, from the way her body responded to him to the way his did to her. And after restraining herself a torturous amount since he’d shown up in Havenbrook, she wasn’t quite sure she wanted to ignore it anymore.
When they’d been younger, she’d always felt a sort of imbalance between them. He’d been more experienced, the bad boy of Havenbrook, while she’d been a good little Haven girl. And though he’d certainly never taken advantage of her or coerced her in any way, there was no denying he’d always been the one in the driver’s seat while she’d simply been along for the ride.
And then he’d left, leaving her crumbling in his wake.
But now… Now, she held every ounce of power in this…whatever this was between them. Even though it wasn’t the best reason to start something with him, she couldn’t deny she sort of loved it. Loved that this thing would stop or continue based on only a single word from her lips.
And, maybe, after so long of pleasing everyone else, it was finally time she did something selfish. Something just for herself. Something she absolutely, without doubt, should not be doing.
The thought sent her stomach tumbling, but she swallowed down her nerves and lifted the pressure she’d used to still his hand. Guided his seeking fingers farther up her leg and deeper under her skirt. “There was never any denying it back then, and there certainly isn’t any denying it now.”
He sucked in a breath, the ridge of his cock beneath her seeming to grow even harder. His eyes were molten as he stared at her, his fingers at her back clenched tight against her skin while the ones on her thigh were soft. Careful. Tentative. His voice, when he spoke, was low and deep. Raspy. Raw. “Be sure, Willowtree.”
Sure? She wasn’t sure about a single thing other than the fact that if she didn’t feel his hands on her, if he didn’t use his fingers to make her come, she’d die. So with a subtle dip of her chin, she sealed their fate.
He dropped his head to her shoulder on a groan and guided his fingers up her thigh until he met the damp fabric of her panties. “Jesus, you’re wet. You want my fingers, sweetness, or do you want my tongue? Can’t say I haven’t been dreamin’ about tasting your pussy again. Every damn night.”
With each word that left his mouth, he kept his touch featherlight. Teasing her until she couldn’t take it anymore. Until every inch of her ached with want and she was desperate to feel his fingers on her with nothing separating them.
“Anything…” she panted. “Anything.”
Finn scraped his teeth down the column of her neck, eliciting a shudder from her. “Careful, I might just take you up on that.”
Heaven help her, she hoped so.
She gripped his shirt with one hand, the back of his head with the other as he finally, finally pushed her panties to the side and allowed them to touch skin-to-skin for the first time in ten years.
“Christ,” he groaned, his forehead pressed into her neck. “I thought I remembered what you felt like, but my memories have nothing on the real thing, do they? You’re soft as a rose petal. Soft and wet and warm and just aching for my fingers, isn’t that right?”
Before she could answer him, tell him, yes, oh Lord, yes, he swiped a finger through her slit and used her wetness to trace slow circles around her clit. All the while he watched her with an intensity she didn’t want to think about, didn’t want to question.
It didn’t matter, though. As soon as he slipped a finger inside her, both of them groaning at the contact, all thought promptly left her. Unable to stop herself, she guided his mouth to hers and slid her tongue against his as he pumped his hand beneath her skirt, working her slowly toward a climax.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten off by someone else’s efforts. Months…more than a year, maybe. But even when it’d happened, one thing was certain: she’d never rocked herself so unabashedly against their hand. Had never ground down on them with a single-minded desperation to get herself off, unconcerned with what they’d think or how they’d respond to her wanton portrayal.
Of course, with Finn she didn’t have to worry at all about what he might think. His body language said it all. The way he kneaded her ass, guiding her movements as she took his fingers deep inside over and over again. The way he whispered the filthiest things in her ear, how his cock seemed to grow harder with each passing second, with each stroke of his fingers between her legs.
“Come on now, Willowtree. Let me feel you come on my fingers. Let’s get this first one out of the way so I can take my time with the rest of you.” He sped up his hand as he spoke, his thumb flicking back and forth over her clit even as he pumped his fingers deep inside her. “I wanna spend an hour just kissing your breasts. Get you nice and worked up, then I’ll spread those gorgeous thighs with my shoulders and make myself at home between your legs. Better get you fed first, though, because once I get my mouth on your pussy, there’s no tellin’ when I’ll stop. Hours. Days.”
The desperation in his voice was what pushed her over the edge. Desperation for her. The thought of reducing this hulking man to his knees in front of her, his sole mission simply to please her with his tongue had her clenching around his fingers, his name a constant chant from her lips.
“That’s it, sweetness. Give it to me.” He groaned, brushing his lips against her collarbone as she did nothing but grip his shirt and hold on for dear life while the longest orgasm known to man or woman ravaged her body.
Finn slowed his hand, though he still pumped his fingers into her, still brushed featherlight circles around her clit as she shuddered and shook in his lap. Good Lord, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had an orgasm that powerful. Couldn’t remember the last time she’d come that hard and yet still ached for something more. Still ached to be filled.
But she did. She couldn’t deny that any more than she could deny her own name.
Willow knew exactly what kind of trouble she and Finn were stepping into here. There were so many unanswered questions—why did he leave? Why did he stay away? And, number one on the list, what the hell was she doing? But right then, she didn’t care. It’d been too long since she’d allowed herself the freedom of doing exactly what she wanted.
In that moment? She wanted Finn. Wanted him with every ounce of her being. Wanted everything he’d promised her while he’d had his fingers inside her. Wanted his mouth between her legs, his cock filling her until she came from that alone.
And for once, she wasn’t going to tell herself no.
Ten minutes and the separation of their bodies had done exactly fuck-all to settle Finn’s raging erection. He was still hard as fucking stone, his cock throbbing behind the fly of his jeans at the mere memory of what Willow’s body had felt like clenching around his fingers. His balls hadn’t ached this much since he’d last been with her as a teenager. Those months before they’d finally slept together had been filled with fumbling exploration and more blue balls than he could count.
But Christ, it’d been worth it. Every single experience
they’d had together had been, if only to see that look on her face as she came from his efforts. And she’d come. Every damn time, he’d made sure of that. If he had his way, she’d come half a dozen more times before the night was through.
Just as soon as he got her fed.
She sat on his counter, hands folded in her lap and legs crossed at the ankles—so prim and proper as if he hadn’t just had his fingers inside her. As if she hadn’t ridden his hand like it was the world’s best toy. Her posture was the only thing prim about her, though. Her cheeks were flushed, their pinkness trailing down her neck to her chest. Her nipples were still hard beneath her silky top, and he wanted them in his mouth with a desperation he hadn’t felt in a long damn time. Hadn’t felt since he was last with her, actually.
After making her two sandwiches exactly how he remembered she loved, he handed her a plate. “Eat up, Willowtree. Gonna need your strength.”
“Thank you. Let’s see if your claim to remember how I like them is correct…”
“I think I already proved I remember exactly how you like it.” With a wink, he turned away from her flushed face to slap together a sandwich for himself. This combination had never been a favorite of his, but in that moment, he didn’t much care. He was going to need the fuel for what he had planned for the rest of the night. Now that he’d gotten a small taste of her, he didn’t see himself stopping before dawn. He wanted to strip her down, lay her out on his sheets, and spend hours rememorizing every square inch of her body. Wanted to make her come enough times her moans became the constant soundtrack in his mind.
Willow bit into her sandwich, letting out a little hum of contentment as her eyes fluttered closed. She’d made a similar sound on his couch right before she’d come. Which was to say, the problem in his pants wasn’t getting any relief.
“How’d I do?” he asked, his eyes locked on her lips as she slipped her tongue out to catch a bit of honey.
“Exactly how I love them.” She took another bite as she stared at him, her head cocked to the side. “How’d you remember all of it?”
Second Chance Charmer (Havenbrook Book 1) Page 12