He was here working all day. Maybe he went out for something?
I wander through to the master bedroom, and hear the shower in the connected bathroom.
He’s in the shower. Naked.
I lick my lips, smile, and proceed to hurry out of my clothes. I stop at the vanity to quickly pile my hair on top of my head, and when I turn to join him, I just pause and stare.
He’s so fucking beautiful. That body is sculpted perfectly, the skin is smooth, with a light spattering of hair in all the necessary places. He’s not overly hairy.
Thank the good lord.
His dark hair is a bit too long, but I like it, and it seems his brown eyes can sometimes see right through me.
I’m in love with him.
What?
No.
I blink rapidly and watch when he turns to wash his hair. He still hasn’t seen me.
I’m in love with him.
And I want him. Right now.
I open the shower door and step inside.
“Sorry, I don’t need any housekeeping,” he says with a smile, and I immediately reach out and grip his cock firmly.
“Oh, I’m not housekeeping,” I reply, and squat so I’m eye level with dick. Before he can rinse his hair, I have the head in my mouth, and I’m giving him the best damn blow job of his life.
“Jesus, London,” he growls, leaning on the wall of the shower. I don’t care that water is running down his body and onto me. I don’t care that my hair is getting wet. All I care about is claiming Finn.
Because he’s mine.
Finn urges me to my feet, spins us out of the stream of the shower, and boosts me up against the wall, the cold tile hitting my back.
“You must have had a good meeting,” he says, and bites the fleshy part of my shoulder.
“It’s been a good few weeks,” I reply, my fingers in his wet hair. “I want you, Finn.”
“Gathered that,” he replies, and slips right inside me. He doesn’t pause, he immediately begins to move, and this angle has me about to lose my mind. “You feel so damn good.”
“This always feels so damn good,” I agree, and sigh in pleasure when he licks across my collarbones, then nibbles up my neck. “You’re so fucking good with your mouth.”
I feel him smile against me.
“I’ve been thinking about this all morning,” he murmurs. “You, your tight little body, the sound you make when I’m inside you.”
“Can’t help it.”
I can’t catch my breath.
“Look at me.” His voice is hard, and I immediately open my eyes to find his brown ones searing into me. “You’re mine, do you understand?”
I blink and nod, surprised by the intensity that’s coming off of him in waves.
“This.” He pushes into me, hard. “This is mine.”
I nod again.
“I want to hear you say it.” His lips are almost pressed to mine. His body is doing delicious things to me, and I’m on the edge of losing control.
“I’m all yours, Finn,” I reply, and wrap my arms around his neck, holding on for dear life as he kisses the fuck out of me. He’s pushing harder, faster, and when he groans in my ear, that’s it for me.
He comes right after me, and we stay here for a moment, both panting. I’m not sure I could stand if I had to.
If I’m not mistaken, Finn Cavanaugh just claimed me. And it was the hottest moment of my life.
His face is buried in my neck, and when his breathing has slowed, he gently lowers me to the floor.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Oh, I think I’m better than okay. I might be bordering on fabulous.”
He smiles and kisses my forehead. “You make me lose myself, London. It’s new.”
I think I lost myself that first morning on the beach.
Could it have been then? I’ve never believed in love at first sight, but since I met Finn, I’ve hardly been able to see much of anything else.
“You get washed up, and then come tell me all about your meeting.”
He steps out of the shower, reaches for a towel, and disappears into the bedroom. It doesn’t take me long to freshen up and join him.
“So, what happened?”
“First, we sang. I’m happy to report that my voice is as strong as ever.”
“Of course it is,” he says, and pulls a T-shirt over his head.
“Then we ran some lines, and Gerald even did some directing. The chemistry with Jeffrey is still there in spades.” Finn’s eyes narrow. “Finn, he’s gay. And a good friend.”
“He’s a red-blooded man, London.”
“A gay one. He’s more interested sexually in you than he is me.”
His eyes widen now, and I just laugh and walk to him so I can hug him hard.
“And then what happened?”
“We talked. The job is mine, if I want it. Of course I’ll have my agent look at the contract and the terms, but if it’s all agreeable, it’s mine.”
“You look hesitant.”
I sigh and walk over to the sliding glass door to look out at the city.
“Part of me is hesitant.”
“London, you’re an amazing actress.”
“I know.” I turn back to him and smile. “That’s not it. I know I’m good, and I know I can do this. A few months ago I wouldn’t have been so sure, but I am now.”
“What is it, then?”
“I’m an East Coast girl,” I begin. “I don’t know if I want to spend so much time in California.”
“It’s just for a few months, right?”
“Probably three to four months with rehearsals, recordings, and filming.”
“Okay.” He frowns. “That’s not really that long.”
“It’s a long time to be without you,” I blurt out, and then feel my cheeks flush. “This thing between us is still new, and I don’t know that I want to be away from you for months.”
His eyes soften as he watches me from across the room. “Sweetheart, I can come to L.A. Probably not full-time, but at least half of the week. And I know they’ll give you some days off. You can always come to New York.”
“You’d do that?”
“Well, I don’t love the thought of being without you for months either. And as quickly as three months can pass, it’s just too long to go without being with you. So, I don’t really see an alternative.”
“That’s a lot to ask,” I reply, and shake my head.
“London,” he says, interrupting me. “It’s just what people who love each other do, right?”
“I—” I stare at him, not entirely sure I just heard him right. “Yeah, I suppose so.”
“Okay, then. We’ll make it work. I’m not worried about that part at all. It’s an amazing opportunity for you, and you should go for it.”
“It’s going to be unlike anything I’ve ever done before. I know live theater inside out, but I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“You’re a smart woman. I have no doubt you’ll do great.”
He walks to me and lowers his lips to mine. How did this man come to be in my life?
Chapter Twelve
~London~
“Girl, you killed it,” Sasha says as we leave our first class of the day. It was a contemporary dance class, and it put us through the paces. “Your leg seems to be doing well.”
“It’s good,” I reply, and wipe the sweat off my face. “It’s twingy today, but not achy, which is a huge improvement.”
“Are you sure you should do the next class?”
“Yeah, I can modify it if I need to, but I think I just need to stretch it out a bit.” I drop my gym bag and water bottle to the floor and lift my leg against the wall to stretch it out. There’s a bit of a pull, but no pain. The pull is to be expected because I’m still getting back into dancing shape. “I had no idea it was this hard to get back into shape.”
“Did you think it just happened overnight?”
“I’ve danced s
ince I was little,” I remind her. “So I’ve never not been in shape.”
“You’re the kind of girl the rest of us hate.” She takes a drink of water and wipes off her own face. “I wish I was naturally athletic. If I don’t go to class every day, I’m doughy in no time. And then it takes twice as long to not look like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man.”
“That’s not what you look like.”
“Yeah, because I go to class every day and I eat celery at every meal,” she replies. “Seriously, though, I love how healthy you look.”
“Thanks.” I grin as my phone rings, and I yank it out of my bag, hoping it’s Finn.
But it’s not.
“Unknown caller,” I murmur, and hit the green button. “Hello?”
“Hey London Bridge,” Kyle says, his voice happy and, dare I say, sober.
“Hi, Kyle.”
“How are you?” he asks, and I frown, staring at Sasha. She asks who it is and I mouth Kyle.
“I’m good. You just caught me. I’m in between dance classes.”
“You’re dancing again? That’s great. You must be feeling better.”
I pull the phone away from my ear and stare at it in confusion and then say, “I am feeling better, thanks.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear that.” He sniffs loudly, which tips me off to the fact that he’s probably not sober, but doing his best to sound like it. “I have some good news too.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
“I’m going to rehab,” he says, and I just sit on the floor, pull my knees up to my chest, and hang my head in my hand.
I’ve heard this a thousand times.
“Really? Where are you going?”
“At a place in North Carolina,” he says. “Right on the beach, so I’ll have a good view while I’m hating life.”
“A good view is nice. So, did you get the trust to approve it?”
He’s quiet for a moment, and I know I’ve said the wrong thing.
“Of course I did,” he says, his voice harder now. “Do you think I can afford rehab on my own?”
“No, that’s why I asked.”
“I don’t understand,” he says, tears in his voice now, and I just roll my eyes. “I just don’t understand why you always think the worst of me. Of course I got it approved by the trust. Are you worried that I’m going to cut into your money?”
“Good God, Kyle. Of course not, that’s your money. It was just a question.”
“I’m sorry,” he says, sniffling more. “I know you just have questions. Yeah, I would have questions too.”
Sasha taps on her wrist, signaling that the next class is going to start soon, and I nod.
“I’m really glad that you’re getting help. I hope that it’s successful.”
“It will be,” he says confidently. “I promise. I’m not going to let you down this time. I’m all you have, and I’m going to be here for you.”
Right.
“I hope so, Kyle. Keep me posted on your progress, will you?”
“Do you really want me to?”
“Of course.” I stand and reach for my stuff. “But I have to go to my next class now.”
“Yeah, you go to class.” He sniffs again. “I just needed to talk to you, but I guess you’re too busy for me.”
I roll my eyes again and sigh. “Kyle, this is work. You know that.”
“And I can’t keep a job because I’m a loser junkie. Yeah, I know. You go to class.”
He hangs up in my ear and I toss my phone in my bag and stare at Sasha in bewilderment.
“So that went well?”
“Not really.” I shrug a shoulder. “He’s paranoid, and his moods are all over the place, which is typical for an addict. But he says he’s going to rehab.”
“Do you think he will?”
“No.”
“Speaking of rehab,” Sasha says, “do you remember Fiona Masterson?”
I frown. “The playwright?”
“Yes, that’s the one. Rumor has it that she has a new musical that she’s been shopping around, but no one will touch it.”
“Why not?”
Sasha frowns. “Because it’s about addiction, overcoming it, and moving on from it.”
I lean my ass against the wall and stare at her. “Really? Why doesn’t anyone want to fund it?”
“Because it’s a tough subject, and a lot of the heavier pieces don’t do as well.” She shrugs, and my wheels are turning. “I remembered when Kyle called. I don’t know if you’ve ever thought of funding a show, but this might be a good one.”
I’d certainly like to talk to Fiona. I clear my throat as we walk into the dance room. “Something to think about for sure. Let’s dance.”
She squeezes my arm and takes her place next to me, and my mind drifts to my brother.
I don’t believe Kyle’s really going to get clean, nor do I think he wants to. He’s trying to manipulate me, but for what this time, I’m not sure.
That’s a lie. I know. He wants money. He always just wants money.
I wish I could trust that he was being honest. I wish that with all my heart. I don’t want to have to bury my brother. But this is Kyle we’re talking about, and that’s not the case. He’s done this to me and my parents so many times.
So, no more answering unknown caller calls. I don’t have room in my life for toxicity, and Kyle is the most toxic person I know.
I’ve been through three dance classes today, and I’m not limping. That’s a win in my book.
As soon as I get back to my condo, I call Finn’s cell. He’s out of town for a couple of days, but I’d like to hear his voice.
“Hey baby,” he says, but I can tell he’s in a hurry.
“Hi,” I reply, and hold the phone closer to my ear. “Are you busy?”
“I’m trying to stay busy so I can wrap this up quickly and get home to you,” he says, making me smile. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I was just wondering if you’d look into something for me regarding my dad’s estate.”
“Of course. What’s up?”
“I got a call from Kyle this morning. He says he put in a request with the trust for rehab, and I just want to find out if that’s true.”
“I’ll make some calls and let you know.”
“No huge rush, I know you’re busy. But yeah, when you have time, I’d appreciate it.”
“No problem. Are you okay after that call?”
“It was weird,” I reply honestly, and rub my hand over my face. “But I’m fine.”
“What are your plans for tonight?”
“I think I’m going to have Sasha over for dinner, and then early to bed. I have an early class tomorrow.”
“Okay, baby. I’ll call you when I’m finished with meetings this evening.”
“Sounds good. Talk to you later.”
“Later.”
I hang up and walk into the bathroom, start the shower, and then send Sasha a text.
Wanna come over for dinner in a couple of hours? I’ll make you fish tacos.
I step under the hot stream and tip my head back to wet my hair. Sasha replies right away.
Hell yes. I’ll bring the tequila.
I snort out a laugh. See you soon.
“So where is Finn again?” Sasha asks a few hours later as we devour our fish tacos.
“Miami,” I reply. “Something for work. And it sucks because he comes home tomorrow and then I leave the next day for L.A., so I only get to see him for a little bit.”
“That’s kind of sweet and pathetic, all at the same time.”
I laugh and pour us each our second shot of tequila. I reach for a slice of lime, sprinkle salt on my hand, lick it and take the shot, then shove the lime in my mouth and wince.
“It’s so bad that it’s good.” I smack my lips together and then take another bite of my taco. “And for the record, these are fairly healthy. I only put a little cheese on them.”
“And they’re delicious. I need to lear
n to cook like this.” She takes a bite. “I still haven’t met him, by the way.”
“Finn?”
“No, Santa Claus. Of course Finn.”
“I know, I’m sorry. Our schedules are all wonky. We’ll set up a time, I promise.”
“Did you just say wonky?” She covers her mouth with her hand and snorts. “Wonky.”
“How are we buzzed after two shots?”
“Because we’re little and we don’t drink much,” she says. “But I don’t care. We haven’t done this in forever.”
“Because tequila has a lot of calories,” I remind her.
“Stop taking away the fun in this,” she says with a frown, and holds her shot glass out for more. “I’ll take an extra class this week.”
“Good idea.” We clink our glasses together and drink the shot. “So, speaking of love lives, how’s yours going?”
“I don’t have a love life,” she replies, frowning. “I have a work life. And a fuck life.”
I snort. “A fuck life can be fun, as long as you’re being careful.”
“Yes, Mom, I’m being careful.”
“I’m the mom? You’re the one who called me every single day after the fire to make sure I was taking it easy and doing what the doctor told me to.”
“So we’re both moms,” she says with a shrug. “And yes, I’m careful. I’m on the pill and I make everyone suit up. Safety first.”
“Cheers to that,” I say, and we take another shot. “Do I know the fuck life?”
“Probably. Jeremy Coolidge.” I feel my eyes go wide. “What? If you tell me you’ve also fucked him, I might get creeped out.”
“No, I never fucked him, I just didn’t think he was your type.”
“He’s not.” She picks at her taco. “I mean, he is physically my type. He’s hot.”
“He has a good body,” I concede. “And his face isn’t bad.”
“It’s usually dark, so his face doesn’t concern me. And yes, he has an ego the size of Manhattan, but I don’t have to like him. I just have to like the sex.”
“Is it bad that I think that’s kind of sad?”
“It’s not sad. It’s me getting laid on a semiregular basis. I don’t have time for a relationship, Lon. You know that.”
All the Way: A Romancing Manhattan Novel Page 13