“I need it.”
His ensuing silence isn’t a no, and it’s the permission I need. I’ve been circling the idea since I met Finn, but now I can leap knowing Finn will catch me—and that he wants to. “I’ll end it with Rich right now. My phone’s in the kitchen.”
“No.” He puts a hand around my bicep, keeping me where I am. “You shouldn’t decide like this.”
I cling to the hesitation in his voice. “It’s already over for me. I just have to make sure he knows so you’ll believe me.”
“Halston.”
He could be warning or pleading with me, but either way, his resolve is weakening. I can sense it. If I leave the room, I might break the spell, so I pull my hand out of my skirt and feel behind us for his back pocket. I slip his phone out. My fingers shake as I try to correctly type in the passcode.
“You need a clear head for this,” he says. “We both do.”
“It’s not as impulsive as it seems.” I dial Rich’s number and hold my breath. It rings twice before going to voicemail. I need to tell Rich we’re over—for all of our sakes. Rich deserves that before anything happens. So does Finn.
“Rich, it’s me,” I start.
“Halston, please,” Finn whispers.
With just my name, I understand what he’s trying to tell me. This is wrong. No matter how badly I want this, I can’t break up with Rich over a message. Reluctantly, I say, “Call me when you get this. We need to talk.”
Finn takes the phone from my hand, hangs up, and puts it away. “There’s no rush.” He’s still pressed against me. I’m not sure how he’s restraining himself when I’ve told him how badly I want this.
“I’m going to end things with him. You believe me, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“So what does it matter if I do it tonight or tomorrow? It’s over.”
“Once I start thinking of you as mine, that changes everything.” There’s undeniable need in his voice—sadness too. “I can’t let myself believe you’re mine if you’re not. I’m the one who’ll get hurt.”
He must not realize that the idea of staking his claim only makes me want this more. I gyrate against him. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I want to be yours.”
He grabs my hip, his fingers digging into my skin, trying to still me. “You have to slow down.”
“I don’t want to with you. Everyone else tells me to calm down or take it easy or go slow. I want to be myself with you, Finn. I want to be allowed to want you this way.”
He drops his face into the crook of my neck and sighs deeply. One arm wraps around me from behind and then his other. I continue to move against him and eventually, he answers, syncing his thrusts with mine. “Christ, Halston,” he mutters. “You’re killing me here.”
“Then stop fighting me.”
He walks us forward a few steps. We reach a wall. I put my hands on it and push back against him. Momentarily, I think I’ve won. He’s going to rip off his pants and fuck me. But he just touches me through my clothing, circling his fingers over my clit quickly, as if our time together could end any second.
I curl my hands into fists, scraping the wall with my fingernails. He secures my back to his front as he slides his shaft up and down the crack of my ass. Even with layers of clothing separating us, he’s growing bigger, harder, engorged—or maybe that’s just what I believe because I’m seconds from falling apart. Even though I’d rather wait to climax with him, his hand feels so good that I end up humping it.
“You’re going to make me come in my fucking pants,” he says.
He’s losing control. Knowing I have that power over him makes me crumble. I orgasm with Finn’s hand between my legs while he grinds into me and doesn’t fuck me. He takes my hips and thrusts against me more furiously, burying his face in my hair and groaning until he finishes.
If my heart pounds any harder, it’ll burst through my chest. Finn shudders behind me. “Fuck,” he says. “I had one rule.”
One rule—and he bent it for me. Maybe I should be sorry. I don’t want him to regret anything when it comes to us. But being simultaneously coveted and owned is addicting, a high I’ve never felt, one I couldn’t fight in the moment. And we haven’t even been skin to skin yet.
“Technically, we didn’t break it,” I say breathlessly.
He releases my hips. “I think the line is too thin to say.”
I turn around. Concern is etched into his features. I want to erase all his doubts, comfort him. “It’s over with him. Completely. Trust me.”
My phone rings from the kitchen. Finn and I look at each other. “It’s him,” I say.
“I’m going to clean myself up.” Finn walks away but pauses in the doorway. “Whatever happens, don’t go to his place. At least not tonight. I can’t stand the thought of it.”
He leaves the studio. With his final plea, I understand his fears run deeper than just the injustice of cheating on Rich.
If Finn is worried about what’ll happen if I don’t end things at all, maybe he already thinks of me as his.
12
I make it to Finn’s kitchen right before Rich’s call goes to voicemail. “Hey,” I answer.
“Sorry I missed you earlier,” he says. “I was on the other line, and I didn’t recognize the number.”
“With who?” I ask. “It’s the middle of the night.”
His silence answers my question.
I scoff. “You couldn’t even wait until tomorrow to call my dad? Did you give him every last detail of our fight, or just the gist?”
“I was worried. You took off.”
“I’m not a child, even if you guys treat me like one.”
“Being concerned about your wellbeing is not belittling you. Where are you?”
My legs are weak from the intensity of the orgasm I had not five minutes ago, so I turn to rest my back against the kitchen counter. Finn is leaning in the doorway, his arms crossed. This is a private conversation, and Finn has no business listening, but the fact that he’s doing it anyway turns me on a little. As if he’s too impatient to do anything other than hear me end it. “I’m at my apartment.”
“No you’re not. I called your doorman when you didn’t answer your cell, before I got your message. Whose number was that?”
“We need to talk.”
“I know, but I have to be up in five hours,” he says. “Can you at least tell me where you are so I know you’re okay?”
“What I meant was I need to talk. You can listen.”
He starts to remind me of an important meeting in the morning he can’t afford to doze off in. I don’t want to hurt Rich; I’d rather let him down gently. But he can’t even give me a minute to break up with him, so I rip off the Band-Aid. “We’re over, Rich.”
He pauses. “You know I didn’t mean what I said earlier about you not coming over anymore. I was mad.”
“It’s not about that.”
“We fought, Halston. I know we rarely do it, but it’s normal. It’s probably even good for us. Couples fight.”
I shake my head, looking outside to avoid Finn’s gaze. “The fight was nothing. It just opened my eyes.”
“To?”
“We aren’t right for each other. I don’t think we need to get into the nitty-gritty details, because you know it’s true.”
It’s so silent, I can almost hear the flakes of snow brushing against the window. “All right, Halston. You want to split? Sure. Let’s do that.”
I’d like to thank him and hang up, but I get the feeling the conversation isn’t over.
“I mean,” he continues wryly, “calling me in the middle of the night to end a two-year relationship is completely rational. I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that you’ve stopped seeing your doctor and taken your treatment into your own hands. The two aren’t related at all.”
I feel Finn’s eyes on me. The apartment is deadly quiet. I turn my face an
d whisper, “It’s not about that.”
“No?” he asks. “And I’m a Russian spy. Obviously, messing with your dosage is your reason for storming off and then calling me like this. We’ve been good up until a few days ago.”
“No we haven’t,” I say more heatedly. “I’ve wanted this for a long time, I just didn’t know it.”
Shit. I didn’t mean for it to come out that way. I’m not even sure if I mean it. If I backtrack, though, what will Finn think?
“Is that true?” Rich asks.
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” I haven’t really thought of leaving Rich in the active sense. Once in a while, I wonder if there’s more out there for me or if it matters that something between us has always felt off. He’s the first man to love me, though. Finn is the first to pursue me.
“If you’re not sure, why the hurry?” he asks. “Go home. Sleep. We can talk at work tomorrow. I’ll even cancel my second meeting.”
Finn watches me. With him, there are no guarantees. Is my urge to take that risk a red flag? Or an inner push toward something better? If I want Finn, there can’t be any in between or uncertainty; he’s made that clear. Maybe he’s the wrong choice. Maybe he’ll hurt me. At least I’ll feel something, though, and that’s more than I can say for Rich. “There’s nothing to talk about aside from logistics,” I tell Rich. “I love you as a friend, but as a partner—”
“We can pick this up tomorrow,” he repeats.
“There is no tomorrow.”
“Yes there is. At the office. Where you and I will both be. And your dad, who won’t be on board with this.”
“I’ll handle my dad,” I say, even though I’d rather elope with Finn than stay and deal with my dad’s disappointment. “Please box up my things and—”
“Have you been drinking?” he asks.
My face warms. I’m not sure if Finn can hear. “No. Have the boxes sent to my apartment. Charge it to Dad’s delivery service.”
“Is it something else?” he presses. “Something worse to cope with everything?”
“Everything?”
“I know this time of year is hard for you.”
Terrified he’ll bring up my mother and make this night even more uncomfortable, I shake my head. “I have to go. Please just tell me you get that we’re breaking up.”
“Fine,” he says. “Take the time you need. I hope I’ll still be here when you realize your mistake.”
Mistake. I have no doubt he intentionally chose that word to drill home the point that without my meds, I can’t make rational decisions. “Goodn—”
He hangs up. I check the screen. Three minutes, eleven seconds. That’s how long it took to extricate myself from Rich. Appropriate, I guess, considering this relationship often felt half-assed. Two years lost, just like that. It’s angering in a way. Years of my youth have been spent bending to other people’s wills. The worst part is, it’s my own fault. It was easier to accept what I had than convince myself I was worth more.
“Hey,” Finn says from above me. I didn’t even hear him approach.
I look up and realize my vision is blurred. “Hey.”
He frowns. “I’m sorry.”
I shake my head, and a few tears fall onto my cheeks. “I’m not crying over him.”
He wipes under my eye with his thumb. “It’s okay if you are. You’re allowed.”
“I just feel like I’m waking up from a long sleep. Not even a restful one.” I could be referring to the break up or my meds. Both, I guess. “I’ve wasted so much time.”
“We’ll make up for it,” he murmurs.
“Was that enough?” I ask. “Are you satisfied?”
He pulls me against his chest, tightening his arms around me. “Don’t worry about me right now.”
“But—”
“Will you let me hold you?”
I’m stiff as a board with my hands at my sides. I force myself to relax against his body, hug his middle, and rest my chin on his chest. “Better?” I whisper.
“Yeah.” He searches my eyes a few silent seconds before bending his head. My mouth opens for his like we’ve done this a million times, but I’ve never been struck by lightning, and that’s how his kiss feels—electric, exceptional, and bigger than us. His lips are as soft and full as they look, but more firm, more certain, than I’m used to. They’re made to kiss away my tears while inciting a fire in me. I could fall in love this second or fuck him until one of us goes blind.
He cradles my face in his hands.
Fall in love.
Then slides them down my back to grip my ass.
Fuck him blind.
“I want you as mine,” he growls.
“I want to be yours.”
He hooks a finger into the waistband of my skirt. “Say that again.”
We breathe into each other’s mouths. It’s too soon to tell him I think I already am his. So I untie his sweatpants instead. “Let me show you how badly I want it.”
He stills my hands. “It’s too soon. You’re vulnerable.”
I haven’t thought of much else in a week. Just him. Finn Finn Finn. Seeing him. Fucking him. Posing for him. I’ve already forgotten about Rich, and right now, I can’t even remember a life outside this apartment. “I’m ready,” I say.
“You’re not. It’s been a rough day.”
“That’s why I need this.” I move even closer. He releases my hands, and I slide them up his chest, around his neck. “Please,” I murmur, rising onto the balls of my feet to nuzzle his neck. I can smell him now, woodsy hints mixed with sweat and brine. He only came in his pants a few minutes ago, and I can almost convince myself I can smell that too. “I have to feel good.” I beg for a kiss and he gives me one. “I haven’t felt good in so long.”
He rests his forehead against mine. “We can’t.”
“We couldn’t ten minutes ago. Now we can. We so can.”
“No, I mean, we actually can’t.” He takes my shoulders but seems to brace me instead of pull me off. “I don’t have any condoms. I wasn’t expecting . . .”
Score. The red light is actually green. I smile as I suck the skin right underneath his jaw, leaning my weight on him. He’s unmistakably hard against my belly. “I’m on birth control.”
His head falls back. “Doesn’t matter. I won’t.”
I might be insulted at his insinuation if I weren’t so eager to move this along. “I’m clean. Rich and I haven’t even been intimate in a month. Are you?”
“Yes, but . . .” He finally succeeds in detaching my mouth from him. “But I just can’t. It’s not a conversation for the heat of the moment.”
The last thing I want to do is get into another deep conversation.
“I’ll go get condoms,” he says. “Make coffee while you wait. That’ll give us each time to think this through.”
I was wrong. Talking isn’t the last thing I want to do. The last fucking thing I want to do is think. I’m not worried I’ll change my mind, or that I need time to get over Rich. It’s that I’ve fantasized about this so long—urgent need, hunger, a real man. After years of dulling everything around me, including sex, I want to be devoured by Finn. I don’t want to talk or think because I’m so hot for him, I’m about to strap on a harness and climb him like the mountain he is.
If he won’t fuck me, there are other ways to get close to him.
I drop to my knees on the kitchen tile.
“Halston.” I hear the warning in his voice.
“You don’t have to do anything,” I coo, blinking up at him. “Just stand here.”
His eyes darken. “I’m bigger than you’re used to.” Another warning.
“How do you know?”
“I just do.”
I pull his pants down his thighs. His heather-gray boxer-briefs outline every ridge and vein of him. He’s right. He’s not like any of the other three men I’ve been with, but at least I’m not intimidated.
“I’m not as hard since I just came,” he says. “I will be
once you touch me.”
Oh.
He’s not completely hard yet?
Fuck.
He pinches my chin and turns my face up to him. “You have nothing to prove. We can go lie down until we fall asleep. I just want to be with you.”
“I haven’t done this much,” I say, determined. Rich was the only man I felt comfortable enough to blow. He liked it at the start of the relationship, but we fell into a routine that didn’t include it unless he asked. Which he didn’t. “You might have to sort of, you know, coach me.”
He shakes his head in disbelief. “I stand corrected. You didn’t even have to touch me to get me fully hard.”
I blush. “You like the idea of me being your student?”
“Let’s take it one step at a time, all right? I can’t manage roleplaying on top of this.”
“So that’s a yes?” I run my hands up his thighs.
“I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
“You already said that. But if you don’t, how else will I earn my ‘A’?”
His nostrils flare. With his eyes on me, he pulls himself out. I glance down, and my heart skips. Now I’m intimidated. I can’t handle all that, especially with my lack of experience. What if I don’t do a good job? What if after all this build up, I’m just okay? We’ve based important decisions on our chemistry, and if it isn’t there, where does that leave us?
I glance up at him. Finn’s been respectful so far, but now I wonder if I pushed too hard. There’s an edge to him that both thrills and unnerves me.
“I love when you look at me like that,” he says. “So innocent, and yet so far from it at the same time.”
I put my hand around his shaft, test him with my tongue, and meet his eyes. I’ve heard men like that, and he just told me as much. I open my mouth, determined to take all of him, but I only get halfway before I have to pull back. I play it off like I wasn’t even trying. He’s sticky and salty from earlier, and the thought dampens my underwear.
I run the tip of my tongue around his crown. “Tell me what to do.”
With a moan, he runs his fingers through my hair and takes my roots in a light fist. “You’re perfect.”
Slip of the Tongue Series: The Complete Boxed Set Page 84