Twist (Beekman Hills)

by K. C. Enders

  Wrapping his fingers in the bulk of my sweater, he drags the material down, down, down, bunching it at my waist, my tank top going with it. I pull my arms free and run my fingers through his hair, grasping it in my fists. Pulling him into me.

  “Oh my God, Finn.”

  His lips dance down the soft planes of my stomach, his arms wrapped around my hips, hands splayed across my back. We’ve shifted. Finn’s body is covering mine. His chest resting between my thighs vibrates with a deep chuckle exactly where I need to feel him. My crazy-sensitive girl parts just fucking got a zing in the right direction.

  Licking across the band of my leggings, Finn looks up at me, eyes hooded and full of lust. He grips the sides of my pants, fisting them in his warm hands. Waiting for my nod, my permission.

  A breathy, “Yes,” spills free, and Finn tugs, revealing the lacy boy shorts that match my bra.

  Did I plan this? No. But I fucking hoped.

  My tank top, leggings—all of it is stripped off and tossed to the floor. I lie on the couch with Finn sitting back on his knees between my legs. Fully clothed.

  “You’re a riot of color and beauty, Addie.” He bites at his lip and palms the front of his jeans.

  “You have far too many clothes on,” I whisper.

  “As do you,” Finn replies as his finger dances down the lace of my panties, pausing and circling between my legs.

  I slowly shake my head, pushing up onto my elbows. “Nope. Your turn.” I clamp my thighs together to halt his hand but end up trapping it instead, between my thighs, driving myself more than a little insane.

  With his free hand—the one not circling and kneading me—Finn reaches behind him and pulls his shirt off over his head.

  Sliding his hand from between my thighs, Finn tosses the shirt aside and lowers himself, pressing his lips to my clit, rubbing and licking through the lace. He pushes my thigh toward my chest, his thumb hooked around the side of my knee.

  And his other hand? That one is working overtime, his jeans gaping open now, his hand gripping and sliding along his cock from root to tip and back again. I can barely see, but I know. I know what he’s doing, getting us both where we need to be. Aroused and riled. Panting, thrusting, hearts racing.

  “Finn. God, Finn—uhngmagawd—” I gasp as he pushes two fingers into me. Curling, stroking. His thumb circling my bundle of nerves. Never have I ever…never…

  His name tumbles from my lips over and over, louder and louder. Until…until…

  Fuuuuck…

  “Addie…” Finn grunts, jerks, and stills just as my world explodes in lights and tremors and the most blissful release.

  Ever.

  21

  Finn

  “I could make you very happy.”

  “Why? Are you leaving?”

  Never have I ever…

  The way Addie came undone. The way she looked, wrapped up in that fucking turquoise lace. I never even got her completely naked. But I have never in my life seen sexier lingerie than Addie’s. Doesn’t even compare to the strappy scrap of black lace that books and movies seem so fond of.

  And, as hard as we both came, that evening at her flat was…different for me. It changed something. Shifted it.

  Made me think.

  Consider.

  She made me want the thing I hadn’t allowed myself to even acknowledge since leaving Dublin. Jesus, fine. I’d considered it a million times but only in theory. Just the idea of it, not the reality. Not seeing it through. But, with Addie, things haven’t followed my usual path in any way.

  I have more time and energy invested in this thing—whatever it is—with her than with any other girl before, including my fucking Humanities professor.

  Addie is a bundle of badass and pushback, but I can’t imagine anyone I’d rather wrestle with.

  And her dog, her little sausage. Eric and I bonded like men. Sure, I’d offered to walk him, but the little prick didn’t seem to want to acquiesce and find a suitable place to piss. I had to encourage him, show him the way. We shared a moment behind the Chinese restaurant around the corner from her flat and marked the brick wall together.

  Christ, and the way she moaned my name.

  “Hey, love.” I look up as she walks through the doors of the pub. “You’re early. Kieran’s not quite in.”

  His hand is finally healed enough for him to work again.

  “Hey. How are you?” She’s not shy with her affections, just shy around people in general.

  I lean across the bar and push her boundaries a bit. “Give us a kiss, yeah?” I’m practically on my stomach, lying across the bar. But I get contact. Brushing my lips across hers, deepening it, savoring it.

  “Remember when we had to kiss Finn for beer?”

  “Yeah…it was only a year ago.”

  Lis and Gracyn are set up at the end of the bar, smiling at the interchange between Addie and me.

  “You must be Adelaide. I’m Lis, Aidan’s girlfriend”—sweet Lisbeth raises her whiskey glass toward Addie—“and this is my friend Gracyn.”

  “Hi. Yeah, I work for Aidan. With him really. Um, nice to meet you.” Addie shifts her gaze from the girls to me, narrowing her eyes. “Do you kiss everyone? Like, all the time?”

  Lis and Gracyn snort out a laugh, big grins and brows high. I don’t mind them laughing at my shit near as much when Aidan and Francie do it.

  Addie leans back, away from the bar, and snarks, “Damn, and I thought I was special.”

  “Oh, you are,” Lis offers with Gracyn nodding in agreement.

  “You’ve changed Finn—tamed the feral bartender.”

  I shake my head and finish stocking the beer cooler, leaving them to their conversation for a moment.

  I guess I have changed. Sharing cookie recipes with the sassy seniors. Looking past all the enticing, willing women in the pub. I’ve kissed my share, pleasured more than a few. But the only one I think about now is Addie.

  And she might have “tamed” me, but I’ve had some positive effect on her, too. Like tonight. We’re going to see a band play live. If fucking Kieran ever shows up. He’s late to every one of his shifts. Every single one. Does he not consider his coworkers?

  Loaded down with a couple of cases of beer, I head back out front.

  “Kansas City? There’s a huge music festival there in the summer, right?” Gracyn’s eyes are wide as she leans across Lis toward Addie.

  “Yeah. The lineup is pretty amazing every year, but I think this year will be unreal. Did you know Lightning Strikes is from there? And so is Of the Room; I think they might be headlining.”

  Gracyn sits back in her seat, gnawing at her lip. She had a fling over her spring break last year with some guy in a band. I don’t know details, it had a lasting effect on her, and not in a good way.

  Kieran finally strolls through the door, tapping at his phone.

  “Nice of you to grace us with your presence.”

  He nods his head, blond curls bouncing, not looking up from the screen, and mumbles, “Right,” as he passes through to the kitchen.

  “It’s safe to leave him?” I look to Lis. “Does he even have a clue as to what he’s doing?”

  “That’s part of why we’re hanging out here. Francie asked us to ‘check up on him,’” she whispers with air quotes in full effect.

  “Jimmy trained him up, so…” I shrug. “When did I become the responsible one round here? Ladies, you’re all right if we go then?”

  Lis waves us off while Gracyn stares off into space, still lost in her thoughts.

  “Adelaide, it was really nice to meet you finally.” Lis smiles warmly.

  “You, too.” Addie waves as we push through the door.

  “That was amazing. I kind of like your taste in music,” Addie says as we leave the venue.

  The show was fantastic. The lyrics raw, the bass and drums heavy, like I prefer. And the swaying hips of the gorgeous green-haired girl nearly killed me. More than once, I had to recite the rosary in Ga
elic to keep from embarrassing myself.

  “It was.” I run a hand down the ocean that’s her hair, my fingers lost in the waves. “Do you need to get home to Eric straightaway?” I open the car door for her, praying for her answer to be no.

  Spinning so that she’s facing me, wedged in the space between my body and the door, Addie runs her hands down my chest, curling her fingers around my belt. “Nope. He should be good for a while. Solid sleep when he’s been properly exhausted.”

  Her breath is warm, and her lips are soft as I get the response I wanted, followed by a kiss to the hollow of my throat. She’s gone far too quickly as she tucks herself into the car and winks at me.

  I run around the back of the car, promising my cock the wait is done if all goes well. And, as short as the drive is back to my flat, it’s considerably too long. The engine revs, and I jerk the stick shift from one gear to the next, abusing the transmission in a way I normally wouldn’t.

  Practically skidding into my parking space, I lean over, roughly kissing Addie before jumping from the car.

  She meets me round the back and pushes me against the boot, pressing her little body into mine. “I really liked that band. They were…sexy, sultry.” Her hands roam while mine pull her closer still.

  I shove off the car, guiding her up the stairs to my door. “Keys are in my pocket,” I mumble against the shell of her ear. Now that I’ve got her, I don’t want to stop touching her for even a moment.

  Her hands go to my jacket, finding them empty before sliding round to my arse and squeezing.

  “Only one other place they could be.” I think I’m being cheeky, but when she reaches in and slides her hand against the line of my cock, I suck a breath in through my teeth. “Déan deifir. They’re right there.” I resist the urge to grind my cock against her, knowing that’s not going to get the keys in her hand any faster.

  “What?” she gasps.

  “Hurry up, love. We need to get this inside.”

  “Yeah, we do.”

  Keys finally in hand, I fumble with the lock, desperate to get inside.

  We tumble through the door, grasping, kissing, nipping at one another. Lips and hands everywhere. Pushing and pulling at the layers of clothing separating us.

  The timing couldn’t be better. My mind was made up earlier that this would be it.

  Addie’s delicate, little hand cups my cock, squeezing slightly, and waves of lust and pleasure roll through me.

  I spin us and pin her to the door when a voice breaks through the haze, a bucket of ice water to our sizzling passion. “Are you finally back, Finny?”

  Addie’s eyes go wide when she looks past me, but even that doesn’t prepare me in any way for what I find. Marlee is on my fucking sofa, wearing nothing but knee socks, wrapped in my blue-and-gray quilt.

  “Christ, Marlee. Not now.”

  Driving me back with a shove of her shoulder, Addie steps away from me. “Why is the drunk chick from McBride’s naked on your couch, Finn?” Her glare is deadly.

  “I let myself in, right, baby?” Marlee doesn’t make any move to cover up, her tits on full display. Instead, she hoods her eyes, trailing a finger across her collarbone. “Just like St. Paddy’s Day.”

  I cringe with everything I have.

  “Oh, fuck no. Nope. No.” Addie seethes, her green waves crashing with a vengeance around her shoulders.

  I look between the women squaring off in my flat. This looks really bad. “Marlee, you need to leave.”

  “But you let me stay last time, Finny.”

  Sweet Mother of God, what is wrong with her?

  “Yeah, I’ll go. Leave you to have your fun with Bitchy McCuntface here.” Addie shoves past and pulls the door so hard, it slams against the plasterboard, the handle denting it.

  “Addie, wait.”

  She moves far faster than I would have ever guessed and is nearly to the cross street, tapping at her phone.

  “Let me—”

  “Nope. I don’t have time for this shit, for your games. Go do your thing, Finn.” She swipes at her cheek.

  “That’s not what this is.” I reach for her arm as she slows to look for traffic.

  She turns, her brows stretched high, and snorts out a laugh. Shaking off my hand, Addie spits out, “Obviously, I’m stupid, and you have your nights confused.”

  “Addie, I can explain,” I plead.

  A car pulls up to the curb across the street, and Addie rushes toward it.

  “It’s Adelaide.” She slams the door of what I hope is an Uber, and she’s gone.

  Pissed off, I storm back to my flat and slam the door behind me. I hope to shit that Marlee is dressed and gone, but it turns out, I’m only half-right. Maybe more like twenty-five percent.

  Pulling her long white-blonde hair out of the collar of her shirt, Marlee turns to me, smiling. “So, she’s upset?” The simpering idiot pouts at me like she thinks she’s being coy.

  I drop my hands to my hips and start counting to ten.

  Somewhere around seven, she laughs out. “But, damn, the green-haired chick is good with her bitch names.” Marlee saunters across the room, stopping only when she’s thoroughly invading my space. “I don’t like to share, Finn. And I don’t feel like I’ve been getting enough attention in this relationship.” Her fingers curl into the waistband of my jeans, pulling me flush against her. Surgically-enhanced tits act as a barrier between us.

  “Marlee”—I step back and remove her hand from where it sits far too close to my cock—“we hooked up, but that’s it. One night. Not a relationship.”

  “But you ruined me. Finn,” she purrs, sliding a hand up my chest, the other one gripping my completely uninterested knob, “I can’t live without this in my life anymore. In my mouth, my p—”

  “Stop. You’ll live and find a sufficient replacement for your mouth.” I put some serious distance between us, bending down to scoop up her tiny shorts.

  But Marlee’s forward, and her hands go straight for my arse. The contact propels me forward out of her reach once again.

  Needing to keep some distance, I toss her the rest of her clothes. “Get dressed, and go, Marlee. No means no, and I’m not interested.”

  “But”—she pouts, stepping into her shorts—“you’re the best I’ve ever had.”

  “You never actually had me, love. Now, tell me, how the fuck do you keep getting into my flat?”

  “I borrowed my daddy’s keys. He’s your landlord.” Marlee throws me a devious little smirk.

  Fucking hell.

  “Christ, are ye fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” My accent grows thicker with my anger.

  “Not even a little. And you’ll probably lose your security deposit.” She runs her fingers over the dent from the door handle. “Unless you want to work out a trade.”

  “No.” Fuck no. No fucking way in hell.

  “What about your roommate?”

  “Go.” What was I thinking when I took that one home? Oh, that’s right. I wanted affection and looked for it anywhere I could get it, even with a scary skank like Marlee.

  “So, I’ll just ask him directly.” Her high, nasally giggle follows her out the door and down the stairs.

  I need to warn Jimmy and start looking for a new place to live. But, first, I need to figure out a way to talk to Addie.

  22

  Adelaide

  “What’s it like, being the most beautiful girl in the pub?”

  “What’s it like, being the biggest liar in the world?”

  Furious.

  I don’t talk to the Uber guy. There’s no reason to bite his head off. I just seethe and cry angry fucking tears.

  Irate.

  Fucking incensed.

  The words tumble through my mind as I search for the best one to describe this feeling. Sanskrit has ninety-six different words for love. The Eskimos have fifty. And I’m just sifting through all the words I can find for angry. There are some good ones, but none are quite strong enough.

  L
ivid.

  This whole thing can fuck right off.

  I should have known, paid attention to the fact that he was nothing but a cheese-slinging Tumblr monkey. All about the lines. Picking up chicks. His conquests, scoring what he could, when he could and bragging all about it. Lowlife piece of shit.

  The truly devastating part is that I did know. I’d heard all about the bar boys at McBride’s when I was in college. I’d seen his flirting in class and in the pub and been on the receiving end of his cheese. And I still let myself be convinced that I was different.

  Turns out, it doesn’t matter how I set myself apart from whatever cookie-cutter mold there is, I’m just another chick. Apparently, there’s nothing special here.

  I don’t know what to do with this feeling. I mean, I do.

  Tears are still streaming down my face as I step out of the car and make my way up to my apartment. Fuming, raging, indignant tears.

  I grab Eric from his crate and his leash from the table, and I head right back down the stairs. Consistency with this dog. Hooking the leash to his collar, I pause, letting a small laugh bubble its way past the tears. Every wiener should be properly restrained. The more I think about it, the more I giggle and snort. Thank God I have the sense of humor of a twelve-year-old boy.

  I try to steer him to his usual patch of grass, but he tugs and pulls until he’s found the perfect spot on the wall of the Chinese place. I probably have to find a new place to order my General Tso’s since my dog is now peeing here.

  And there it is. I have no control over the wieners in my world. None.

  The rest of my night is filled with brownie batter. No need to waste time cooking that shit. It does the job just fine with a bowl and a spoon.

  Eric burrows under the blankets and snuggles with me, doing everything he can to make me feel better, and after scrolling through my Pinterest board, I decide it’s time for a change.

  My phone pings and vibrates during the next couple of days. Most of the calls and messages are from Cúl Tóna. I Googled how to say dickhead in Gaelic. Those go unanswered, and I don’t bother even looking through the peephole when anyone knocks on the door. I’m not hiding. I just don’t want to mess around with the Dick Who Shall Not Be Named.