by Shea Godfrey
Casey saw the pattern and held her breath as her fingers completed the sequence without a prompt. Seven. Two.
The keypad turned green and the bolt slid open.
Casey closed her eyes as her hand hovered above the numbers. Cassandra.
Finn’s hand slid to the small of Casey’s back and her fingers dipped beneath the waist of Casey’s jeans. Casey pulled her body against Finn’s as her stomach filled with wings. She was afraid to look up, although she wasn’t sure why. Finn’s mouth swept lightly across her ear once more and Casey found her voice.
“That’s either the most bizarrely romantic thing that’s ever happened to me…or I’m going to have to read up on the benefits of a restraining order.”
Finn chuckled near her ear, the sound filled with appreciation. “Don’t worry, I changed it yesterday. I expected you sooner, Casey Marinos.”
Casey opened her eyes as her heart jackhammered and then her head fell back at the supple kiss along her jaw. Finn’s whisper filled her head. “I’ve missed you.”
Casey’s hands moved of their own accord and sank within the strands of Finn’s wild hair, Casey voicing a moan of profound and infinite satisfaction. Finn’s hair was as soft as silk and honestly heavy, its blackness reaching out and pulling at everything within its immediate orbit, a celestial event all its own. It had been about twenty-four hours since Finn had last seen her, Which isn’t so long, maybe…though maybe it’s been a lifetime. Because it feels like forever, since I’ve last been seen.
She recognized the ironic amusement within her chest, a dark humor that was pointed squarely in her own direction. To be so enamored of another woman was way, way beyond her current capacity for accepting new and exciting things, and she knew it. She couldn’t help it, though, and she knew that, as well. Fuck it. Her voice, when it finally arrived, was as unburdened by caution as she could ever remember. “Finnegan, where in the hell have you been?”
Her arms went about Finn’s neck as Finn’s lips covered hers, soft and wet with heat. She opened her mouth to Finn’s tongue and Finn took what she offered.
Casey’s sense of touch seemed to expand to its limits and then rupture, awakening in a rush of irresistible sensations. She could feel everything with a high intensity she hadn’t expected, and all her fears fell before the flood, washed beneath it and swept away.
Her clothes were rough against her skin, out of place as they formed a barrier against Finn’s body. She could feel the heat and strength of Finn’s presence, her thighs pressing and the muscles of her arms. Finn’s face was soft and her breasts were small but full, slightly above Casey’s as Finn pulled her close. Finn’s hands were filled with heat, her fingers opening as they slipped beneath the fabric of Casey’s shirt.
Their mouths spoke with supple sounds, a language that the most primal part of her being understood with absolute clarity. Each breath that she pulled in through her nose was filled with Finn’s scent, a unique fusion of life, leather, faded cologne, and sexual need. It soaked through Casey’s tissues, and Finn’s want was mirrored in the thick, heavy pulse that swelled through the flesh between her legs.
Finn leaned down as her hands moved with strength along Casey’s butt and thighs, and Casey pulled in a quick breath as she opened her legs and Finn lifted her up. Casey dug her fingers into the thick leather at Finn’s shoulders and leaned into the kiss, liking the change in angle as her back eased against the wall and Finn stepped between her legs.
Finn’s pelvis pressed against her and Casey let out a gasp as she wrapped her legs around Finn’s hips. Her thighs tightened and her muscles clenched down the length of her legs as she hooked one ankle beneath the other. She pulled her right hand back and took hold of Finn’s face as she sealed their kiss. Too far, too far, go back, she thought in a panic and leaned back in. Her mouth brushed against Finn’s lips as she spoke. “Open the door.”
Finn reached with her right hand and Casey kissed her again, a thrill of excitement and arousal sparking through her body. They were moving and the air changed around her as they entered the loft and cleared the entrance, the heavy door swinging shut behind them. Finn’s kiss was filled with soul, and a fierce need which Casey fed, her tongue going deep as her left hand reached over Finn’s shoulder. She clutched at the leather beneath her palm and grabbed hold with a desperate grasp, the smooth, aged material submitting to her will.
“You taste…” Casey felt a bit dizzy as she freed her mouth from Finn’s. She ran her thumb along Finn’s lower lip and her thighs clenched at the slick remains of their kiss. Her sex ached with a terrible, glorious weight. “Like whiskey and cherries.”
“You taste like my dreams.”
Casey searched Finn’s eyes for a motive behind the words, or anything else that might disprove such a tenderly spoken admission, but she saw nothing other than a passionate honesty that ripped right through her. She also saw something that wasn’t right, though it had nothing to do with trust.
Her fingers trembled against the pliant skin of Finn’s mouth and she almost laughed. She never trembled. “I need to see you,” she whispered. “I want to see your eyes better, please.”
Finn turned and they stepped around a table, or perhaps an ottoman, Casey wasn’t entirely sure and she really didn’t care. Her feet touched the floor before Finn stepped away, and Casey reached out with the unexpected need to still be touching her, surprised by the flutter of panic within her chest. Finn reached back without looking and Casey grabbed hold of her hand.
Warm light surrounded them with a click and Casey stepped close, her hands upon Finn’s coat as Finn turned. Her fingers slid along Finn’s chest and then swept beneath the lapels, lifting the heavy leather. Finn shrugged and the coat piled onto the floor at their feet.
Casey stepped against her, liking the silhouette of Finn’s sports bra beneath the white of her T-shirt. Her touch was gentle upon Finn’s cheek.
Finn’s left eye held a hemorrhage of blood, as deep and bright as heart’s blood as it spread out from the amber of her iris. Its presence was startling, and Casey’s touch floated above Finn’s eyebrow. There were the smallest of stitches within the soft hair, definitely three, perhaps four. It was good work, she could see that much, but the swollen flesh would be worse with the morning sun.
She hadn’t seen the punch, but she knew what had happened and the violence that Finn had encountered. She knew it and she would have to lie.
“Baby,” she whispered, and felt an unexpected joy upon speaking the endearment.
A decent amount of dried blood stained the front of Finn’s white tee, and as Casey surveyed Finn’s upper body, she saw the bruising on her left arm as well, the rise of blood beneath the skin from someone’s violent handprint. She took off her own jacket and tossed it onto a nearby chair before she met Finn’s gaze. “What else is there?”
“I’m all right, Casey, I promise.”
“You don’t look all right.”
“I feel pretty good at the moment.”
Casey favored her with an unguarded smile. “I won’t ask about the other guy.”
“That might be best,” Finn agreed.
“You’re a bloody boatload of trouble—I knew it when I first laid eyes on you.”
“Maybe a dinghy full, but that’s it.”
Casey laughed softly. “How much have you had to drink?”
“Only a little bit.”
“You don’t really drink that much, do you.” Casey was oddly certain of her words.
“Not really.”
“If you think I’m going to take advantage of you, you’re wrong.” Casey’s voice was filled with conviction, though her body had other ideas. You’re so full of shit, Marinos.
Finn stepped close and slid her hands about Casey’s waist. Her fingers pulled the rest of Casey’s shirt free and slipped beneath to the skin. Finn kissed her and Casey went to her, her hands fisting hard in the stained cotton of Finn’s tee. Finn’s hand slid beneath the waistband of Casey’s j
eans and Casey caught her breath as Finn cupped her ass with strength, her mouth opening against Finn’s.
Casey grabbed the back of Finn’s neck. “If you start, I don’t want any complaining later,” she managed as Finn’s hand moved up, and then slipped back down beneath her briefs. Her fingers opened on the heat of Casey’s bare skin.
“I’m done with that.”
Casey found it hard to breathe. “With what?”
“With waiting,” Finn answered as she lifted her up and they moved. The wide couch was at Casey’s back with a gentle drop and a whoosh of movement, and then Finn was above her.
“Oh, thank Christ,” Casey moaned as she opened her legs and pulled Finn down.
Finn settled against her and her pelvis thrust as Casey lifted her hips in greeting. Her thighs tightened about Finn’s and Finn kissed her, Casey’s hands greedy as they slid beneath Finn’s tee. The muscles of Finn’s back moved against her touch, and Casey moaned as Finn opened her mouth farther.
Finn’s hand went between them and Casey lifted from the cushions in order to maintain their kiss, her shirt open as she felt the touch of Finn’s fingers between her breasts.
The catch of her bra was released and Casey arched against her as the heat of Finn’s mouth closed upon her left nipple. Casey let out a harsh breath at the pressure and pull of Finn’s mouth, the fleeting touch of her teeth, and the roughness of Finn’s tongue. Her legs tightened and stretched out as a quiver of pleasure shook along her clit, her hands fisting in Finn’s hair as her world was sent spinning beyond her control.
Finn felt the heat beneath her hands and a thousand moments collided within her thoughts. The taste of her was overwhelming, the tender flesh of Casey’s nipple, tight and hard beneath her tongue, it was too much.
Long days spent beneath the French summer sun, days spent wanting and watchful as she fell in love. Her quiet calm at knowing Casey was close and safe, just beyond the darkness that seemed to follow Finn like a fortune-teller’s curse. All her bottled-up passion and longing, it hurtled past her fears and doubts and spilled over into their new reality.
Finn lifted up and yanked at her T-shirt and bra, desperate as they slid up her chest, just far enough for what she needed.
“Yes, baby,” Casey urged, and drew her down once more.
Finn moaned as their breasts came together, her hips thrusting smoothly as she reclaimed their kiss. Casey cried out within Finn’s mouth and submitted, her thighs tightening around Finn as they moved. Finn shifted her position and reached between them, her hand certain of its course as she popped the button of Casey’s jeans. The zipper opened as she slid her hand beneath Casey’s clothes and eased into the heart of what she wanted.
Casey pulled back from their kiss and Finn’s blood slowed, just a little, as Casey held her face. Her eyes were dark and filled with so much life and promise, Finn wasn’t quite sure what she could say that would explain how she felt. The fever within her blood ebbed, though, and eased from its frenzy of want into a stronger, even sweeter place.
“Casey,” she whispered, and her hand stilled within the heat and silken hair.
Casey pushed up and kissed her.
Finn slid her fingers along the wet and swollen flesh and Casey cried out softly in response. The neck of Finn’s T-shirt stretched and pulled and Finn felt her destiny slip to the side and fall.
Each breath that Casey took was sharp and quick through her nose as each pull of life raced downward. She clenched her muscles tightly and tried to stave it off, but the hard wave of pleasure that surged upward was desperate for release as Finn slid her touch inside. She cried out as Finn’s fingers moved, her palm strong and persuasive against Casey’s flesh in firm, quick strokes. It was too much and Casey’s muscles stretched as everything tightened. “Finnegan,” she said, and her voice broke upon the name.
Casey convulsed as she came, hard and fast, her cry of pleasure spent beside Finn’s mouth as she lifted against the knowing touch. Her muscles closed around Finn’s strong fingers and Finn’s tongue was in her mouth. Casey was desperate for a breath as a second wave of pleasure crashed hard upon the heels of the first.
She pulled her mouth from Finn’s with a gasp, the skin beneath her hands damp and dense with muscle as Casey arched and her body jerked, the abandon with which she felt her satisfaction crushing all other sensations until her need was satisfied.
Her chest filled with warmth as Finn kissed her and Casey responded, her arms holding on as tightly as she could as her tears welled up and slipped free.
Her body seemed to disappear into the cushions beneath her, and she felt her orgasm slip and vibrate into a low hum of luxury as Finn’s hand slid along her belly. It was wet and hot and it caused a warm tremble along her spine.
She smiled against Finn’s mouth, wrapped her legs about one of Finn’s, and moved against her with a slow, sweet push that Finn returned. A small but potent aftershock quivered through her flesh and she opened her mouth against Finn’s cheek. She let her lips linger against the soft skin of her new lover’s face, though only for a moment.
“Finnegan.”
She dug her hands within Finn’s hair and pulled her as close as she could. She sucked at Finn’s earlobe and then let out a soft laugh of satisfaction, thankful for Finn’s body on top of hers. Everything trembled upon the edge of forever, and she had no idea what that might mean. “Wherever have you been?”
“Casey.” Finn considered the question as she drifted within the moment.
The taste of Casey’s kiss was in her mouth. The quality of her flesh, and the soft, intimate texture, the hot silk that clung to her fingers, these things were hers now. Each sensation held its own distinctive force and throbbed within Finn’s own flesh. The smell of their bodies together, and the subtle scent of spent pleasure. Casey’s cries of satisfaction had been her doing, and it threw her senses into a place she had never been able to truly fathom or recover from easily. Perhaps because she had known so little of its power.
Finn was wet with need, and she hovered just beyond her own fulfillment as Casey pulled back and their eyes met.
The memory of the first gunshot filled Finn’s head without warning, the cold echo a harsh counterpoint to the warm heartbeat that pumped within her chest. Her stitches seemed to burn with the recollection and her left ear rang oddly, still in pain. Another half inch, and someone else would be holding you.
“Finn?” Casey asked, and there was a keen edge of concern within her voice.
Finn reeled in her thoughts and tied them down. “I’m very tired.”
Casey’s eyes filled with warmth as she held Finn’s face, and it was a balm against the new memories so near the surface. “I know,” Casey whispered, and then kissed her, a tender kiss that lingered through the slowing of Finn’s heartbeat. Casey’s thumb trailed along Finn’s lower lip, her eyes happy as they followed its progress. She whispered something that Finn couldn’t hear.
“You won’t leave?”
“No,” Casey answered and guided her to the side with a gentle push. Finn tipped against the back of the couch and sank onto the cushions beneath them both, Casey moving with her and staying close. She pulled Finn’s bra and T-shirt back down and smoothed at the abused material with the lift of a skeptical eyebrow. “We have unfinished business, you and I.”
Finn struggled to keep her eyes open. She hadn’t realized how much her head hurt.
“I want you inside me, Finnegan Starkweather, when you come.” Casey’s softly spoken words were filled with promise.
Finn’s startled laughter bubbled upward and Casey’s eyes lit up when the sound of it took flight in the air between them. “Casey,” Finn said simply. I love you.
Their legs tangled together in an easy manner as Casey’s mouth brushed against Finn’s. A small thrill shuddered at the base of Finn’s neck.
“Go to sleep, baby.”
Chapter Fifteen
Casey moved through the loft in silence, her jeans low upon he
r hips and her button-down shirt untucked. Her socks slid along the hardwood floor, and she indulged the childish whim because she felt safe to do so.
The light within the loft was glorious, and what she hadn’t seen the night before was exposed to her in all its wonder with the morning sun.
There were hundreds of books, books everywhere, old books and new books and books in glass cases. There were stacks of books and graphic novels, and comic books that appeared to be worthy of an appraisal. There was a signed book on a beautifully carved mantelpiece, V by Thomas Pynchon, signed, To my Ailish, this is the proper shit, with love, Ruggles. It was a British first edition.
“Ailish,” Casey whispered and set it back down. She smiled that the mantelpiece was built around yet another bookcase.
There were pictures on the top shelf, and the photo of Finn as a teenager in a school baseball uniform filled her with pleasure. She ran her fingers along the glass for a moment and then set it back, picking up the one beside it. Finn in a football uniform. Tight end, indeed.
The picture farthest to the left was older, but the man who owned the space within the frame was a near carbon copy to Finn. His hair was just as black and just as out of control, but it was his eyes that caught her attention. They were the exact same amber color, deep and filled with the same vitality Casey had seen in Finn. He was rough around the edges and gorgeous and he could be no one else but her father. His soft, open expression showed his femininity, and he wore it as easily as his manhood. Casey wondered if he was an artist, for he looked the part. Finn walked between two worlds, as well, and though she did it with confidence and style, Casey suspected that Finn’s neighborhood had been a rougher place to traverse.
She remembered Finn’s touch inside her and she smiled an impish smile, entirely for her own benefit. She knew exactly what her fears were and they hadn’t changed much since she had woken up, but she also hadn’t felt so alive in years.
Casey spun upon the balls of her feet and walked toward the bank of windows on the west wall. There was a workout area in the corner, with free weights scattered upon the mat, weights that looked as if they were biding their time until they might cause the maximum amount of pain.