In a tangle of limbs, it was impossible to tell where she ended and he began. Finn positioned himself at her entrance and entered her in one swift stroke.
She was breathing fast, felt the rapid fall and rise of his chest against hers. Finn grasped her hips and thrust into her, again and again.
“Finn,” she breathed against his mouth. The pressure built to an unbearable degree and her body quivered. “Finn.” Making love to his name, unable to think of anything else but this amazing man, and the way he was loving her. Then a tingling raced from her toes to the apex of her thighs, and she wasn’t capable of speech any longer.
Her arms slid around his neck, holding him tight. Finn was wild, out of control, using every inch of his body to give them both the most exquisite pleasure.
Val cried out her release, pulling Finn over the cliff with her into bliss.
Chapter Ten
It was supposed to be men who fell asleep. But instead, Finn lay awake in the half-light, his hand curved around Val’s small, perfect breast. In sleep, her breathing was steady and even.
He’d never wanted to just lie and watch anyone sleep before. Never wanted to know someone so well, that it was as if he had climbed into their skin, and felt all of their emotions firsthand. She was so honest, so real, for the first time, Finn doubted all of the experiences he’d had before.
His shoulders still hurt from the press of her fingers. The remembered sound of his name of her lips had been the most erotic thing he’d ever heard in his life. Women had moaned his name before; hell they’d even screamed it in the throes of passion, but Val…
The way that Val’s voice broke on whispering his name, again and again, as though she had no control over it, as though she was compelled to—had driven him over the edge. Their lovemaking was fast and furious, desperate and passion drenched. Different from every sexual experience he’d ever had.
It wasn’t just his body seeking release; his mind was in the game too.
She stirred in her sleep, shifted from lying on her back to lying on her side, facing him. Her neck was resting on his arm, and his fingers were numb. He gathered her close, arm curving around her in a gentle embrace, and flexed his fingers, feeling the sting of pins and needles in his fingertips.
She made a noise deep in her throat, like a purr, and rested her hand on his chest.
Finn’s body reacted instantly to her touch. He closed his eyes, felt the soft brush of her hair against his lips as he breathed in the scent of her shampoo, and stopped thinking.
*****
Val woke, disoriented in unfamiliar surroundings. A soft breath puffed against her hair, and she was curled up against a hard chest. Finn. Vivid memories of the night before slammed into her, shifting her from sleepy to alert. She laid her palm against his neck. Angled away to look at his face in the shadowy dawn light diffusing through the half-drawn curtains. He looked younger—his features relaxed in sleep. His arm was around her, curved around the swell of her hip. She scooted a fraction closer and pressed her mouth to his in a soft kiss.
His fingers tightened on her hip in an instinctive clutch. He moaned and she felt him harden against her stomach.
“Hey,” she whispered.
His hand stroked down over her bottom as he pulled her in closer. He was still somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, not consciously aware.
The thought that he might make love to her while asleep was a massive turn-on. Val sucked in her bottom lip, and bit it as she watched his face. Seducing a sleeping man was wrong. It must be wrong. She’d hate it if she woke up and found herself making love. Anyone would.
Wouldn’t they?
Her nipples were so hard they tingled. The heavy weight of his hand on her bottom was stoking fire between her legs. She arched her back, bringing her chest into full contact with his. Her heart was hammering fit to burst, as he groaned again.
“Hey,” she whispered again. “Finn.”
His body tensed. One eye flickered open. “I thought I dreamed you.” His voice was rusty with sleep. Before she had a chance to respond, he claimed her mouth in a demanding kiss that left her in no doubt that at last, he was awake.
“You smell like vanilla, and taste of honey.” Finn kissed down her neck, and trailed his lips across her shoulder.
“You make me sound like some sort of pie.”
“Mmm, I like pie.” He looked up, smacked his lips together. “I like pie a lot.”
Val started to laugh, but the sound dried in her throat as his fingers parted her thighs, replaced by a moan as his fingers, and then his mouth found their target.
This time around, Finn took his time exploring every inch of her body. With every touch of his strong hands, every brush of his hard body against her, Val’s temperature rose. She shifted under him, wanting to taste him too, but he held a hand on her stomach, and kept her in place. “Be still,” he muttered. “Just relax.”
Easier said than done. “That feels so good.” His hands were on her hips, and he slipped a pillow under her bottom.
“This will feel even better.” His hair fell over one eye, giving him a rakish look. His teeth gleamed in the half-light as he grinned.
He sheathed himself and as he entered her in one swift stroke, all she could think was that he was right. It did.
*****
The radio woke Finn from sleep. Every morning he woke to the blare of music, and every morning it was unwelcome. At least it beat the buzz of an alarm clock. Eyes closed, he thumped down the snooze button.
“You’ll break it,” a sleepy voice said.
Finn cracked open an eye. “Good morning.”
Val’s hair was tousled. The make-up she’d worn the night before, had faded away. She looked younger, half-asleep, and gorgeous.
He kissed her, feeling his erection stir. Had they time… The radio blared again, and with a curse Finn bashed the snooze button again.
She sat up. The sheet fell to her waist revealing her breasts. “Oh God, is that the time? I have to go.” She threw back the sheet, got out of bed, and started to pick her clothes up from the floor.
At the sight of her upturned bottom, Finn’s erection hardened even more. “Come back to bed.”
She looked at him over her shoulder. “I can’t. I have to go home and change for work. I can’t wear this.” She waved her crumpled dress at him. “Otherwise I’ll have to answer all sorts of awkward questions from Fiona.”
Fiona? Finn rubbed the back of his head. Oh, presumably the receptionist.
“And I left my car…”
“I’ll take you. Give me five.” He needed a shower; there was no way he was leaving this morning without one. He climbed out of bed. “Take a shower with me.”
Her gaze dropped. “Oh.”
“Yes. Oh.” He wanted her desperately, but there was no time to waste. He took her hand. “I’ll go first, and you can join me when the water heats up.” It might take more than a cold shower to cool his ardor for her, but it was as good a place as any to start.
After the quickest shower in history, Finn toweled himself off, and went to get dressed while Val showered. Leaving her was torture, but if he stayed…
Well, she’d be late. They both would.
He made and buttered toast. Fixed two cups of coffee in travel mugs, and was staring into one when a voice came from behind him.
“I’m ready to go.” Her hair was damp from the shower. “What’s that, breakfast?” She reached around him for a piece of toast.
They’d spent the night together, and he didn’t even know what she took in her coffee. “Milk? Sugar?”
“Don’t call me Sugar,” she teased, with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Just black.” She was clutching her bag tightly. Her shoulders were tense, and she avoided his eyes. He didn’t like the way this was going.
Finn screwed the top on the coffees, and handed hers over. “Everything okay?”
“Fine.”
He leaned in, breathed in the scent of
his shampoo on her hair. Kissed her cheek. “Will I see you later?”
Her fingers gripped the coffee tightly. “I-I think I should…” She stared at her toast as though it was the most fascinating thing in the world. “I think I should spend some time with my flat mate this evening.”
She was pulling away. Not physically, but mentally. The tactic was familiar, he’d used it often enough himself in the past. Finn breathed in. Pushing it would drive her further away. “Okay. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Usually after a night with a lover he felt sated, satisfied, relaxed. But not this time. Now he wanted to spend hours with her, to find out more about what made her tick. The feeling of wanting her, wondering how he would kill the hours until he saw her again was alien and disturbing.
She could walk away from him. She could run. But not for long.
Chapter Eleven
It was still early when Val arrived back home. She’d rejected Finn’s offer of a lift into work, saying she’d get a taxi. She needed space. Needed time away from him. Last night hadn’t turned out the way she thought it would. She’d expected fun, but she hadn’t expected perfection.
She stripped off her dress and underwear and dressed in clean clothes. When she came out of her bedroom, Maggie was in the kitchen.
“Hi stranger,” Maggie said. “When did you get in?”
“About five minutes ago. I was just changing.”
Maggie put one hand on her hip, and examined Val so intently that Val shifted from foot to foot. “Out all night? Who with?”
“Finn.”
“Hottie Finn?” Maggie did a low whistle. “So, you went for it, then?”
“Went for it, and got a lot more than I bargained for.” The moment the words slipped out, Val wished she could call them back. She wasn’t ready to talk about it—
“Well, that’s intriguing.” Maggie smiled.
“I’d love to stay and chat, but I have to get a taxi, I left my car at the studio last night.” Val headed for the door, glad of the excuse.
“Hold up. I’ll drop you.” Maggie grabbed her keys off the counter top. “You can fill me in on the way.”
Some friends are kind and considerate, automatically understanding when you don’t want to talk. Maggie was not such a friend. She was the tell-me-all-about-it sort. They’d barely eased into traffic, before the questions started. “So, casual sex. Fun, isn’t it?” She grinned ear to ear.
“I guess.” To Val’s annoyance, her response sounded flat, rather than perky.
Maggie shot her a quick sideways glance. “Not fun? Was he not doing it right?”
He was doing it right. He was doing it too right. “He was pretty damned perfect,” Val admitted. “That’s the problem. I like him.”
“You should like the person you’re sleeping with,” Maggie said with brutal honesty. “Because if you didn’t I’d be worried about you. I like Phillip.”
Putting it in words made it real, something she didn’t want to do. But Maggie wasn’t letting her off the hook, so she’d have to at least try to explain. “I like him a lot, Maggie. And he likes me. He wanted to get together again tonight, but I told him I was busy.”
“Well, you can’t be washing your hair, it’s damp.”
“I need some distance.” Val rubbed her eyes. “I guess I thought sex between us would be fun and casual, and my emotions wouldn’t be involved. It didn’t turn out that way.”
Their night together had been more than sex. There was caring, consideration, fun, and desire in the mix as well. When he’d stepped out of the shower this morning rather than make love to her, she’d been disappointed. She had to leave. They had no time. But she wanted him with an urgency that banished thought. Killed responsibility stone dead.
The desire that had taken over had scared her spit-less. She’d wanted him, despite the fact that he had a coterie of women. Now she was his sole focus, her heart was in jeopardy. She’d been down that track before and was in no hurry to repeat the experience. “I think I’m in danger of falling for him,” Val confessed. “And that’s the worst thing I could do.”
They were almost at the studio now. Maggie pulled up outside. “Let’s get pizza take-out tonight, and have a girl’s night. I could sure do with one.”
“Yeah, I like the sound of that.” She unsnapped her seatbelt, and opened the door. “I’ll get ice cream on the way home.”
*****
A family came in for photographs that morning. Val tried to close off her emotions as the mother smoothed over her oldest daughter’s hair, positioned her younger daughter in front of her, and smiled indulgently at the toddler in her husband’s arms.
Once upon a time, she’d thought she would have a family like theirs. Had imagined loving someone forever, and having children with them. Michael’s betrayal had sent her down a different path. Forged her a different future. Her mother kept telling her that she was young, that she’d have another bite at the cherry.
Truth was, Val didn’t want it. Didn’t want to love someone so much they had the power to devastate her. Couldn’t let herself be that needy, that vulnerable, ever again.
“Okay, one more time,” she said to the family before her. And as they smiled, pressed the shutter, recording their happiness for posterity.
The afternoon was free from clients, so she settled down and prepared the photographic submission for Logan & O’Donoghue, addressed it to Anna, and sent it by courier. There was nothing more she could do now, except hope her work was good enough to win the contract.
Her cell phone rang. She glanced at the display—Mother.
“Hey, Mum.”
“Hello, Darling!” Her mother’s warm tones made Val feel homesick even though she wasn’t the one who had left the country. “How are you? Long time no hear!”
“Good.” There wasn’t any point in worrying her mother about the loss of her job at the bookstore, Belle Jones floated in an alternate rom-com universe where money worries didn’t exist, and love was always happy ever after. “What’s new with you? Still in Gran Canaria?”
“Actually, no.” There was an awkward silence for a moment. “I’m in Tenerife. Raoul and I are here for a few days, visiting his parents.”
Oh no.
“That’s why I’m calling, actually, Darling. Raoul and I…well, he proposed, and I’ve accepted.”
How old is Raoul anyway? Val’s eyebrows pulled together in a frown as she wracked her memory. “Don’t you think that’s a bit quick?”
“We’ve been dating for six months.” As anticipated, her mother sounded defensive. “I know he’s younger than me, but he loves me. This time it’s the real deal, Val. I want you to meet him.”
The last thing Val wanted was to meet yet another man who would break her mother’s heart. “I’m very busy at work at the moment…”
“I knew you’d say that,” Belle said. “But he’s going to be your stepfather, and you should meet. He’s dying to meet you. We’ll be back in Gran Canaria next week, I’d like you to fly out and stay.”
“Mum, maybe you should think about this. Give it a little more time.”
“No.” Belle sounded definite. “I know you’re not romantic, Val, despite the fact that I named you Valentine. But I am. They say love makes the world go around, and it certainly makes mine rotate. It’s understandable that you’re wary, you’ve never met Raoul. I appreciate your concern, but it’s my life, baby. And I have to live it.”
There was no talking to her mother in this mood, but the fight wasn’t over, not by a long shot. Face to face was the only way to go. “Okay, Mum. I’m pretty busy at the moment, but I’ll look at the diary and see if I can fly out for a weekend soon.”
*****
“So just how old is he?” Maggie said later that night. The double cheese pizza had been dispatched in pretty short order, and they were both armed with individual pints of ice cream with caramel chunks. If you were going to pig-out, you might as well go the whole hog.
“I th
ink he’s thirty.” Val had been thinking about Raoul’s age all afternoon. She remembered that he was a few years older than her, and at least a decade younger than Mum. “Old enough to shave, anyway.”
“So, your mum is what, forty-eight?”
“Forty-seven.” She poured herself another glass of wine. Everything was better with wine.
“So. Hang on, I’ll work it out.” Maggie put her tub down on the sofa next to her, and held up her fingers. “Half her age makes twenty-three and a half, plus seven…”
“What are you on about?” Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was just Maggie, but Val had no clue why her friend had resorted to mathematics.
“Cougar age. It’s okay if they are half your age plus seven years. So your mum can legitimately date someone who’s thirty and a half.” She picked up her ice cream again, and chased a lump of caramel around with a spoon. “It’s legal.”
“Legal.”
“Yep. In the cougar dating manual, anyway.” She licked the last trace of ice cream from the spoon. “Maybe you should give young Raoul a chance.”
“Well, I would, and I’m all for love, but—”
“You’re not all for love,” Maggie interrupted. “You’re scared stiff of it.” She put her hand over her mouth, and stared at Val, wide-eyed. “Oops. Too much?”
“A tad.”
“It’s the wine.” Maggie poured herself another glass. “I always say what I mean rather than what I should after too much wine.”
“So you think I’m too hard on her, is that it?”
“Hon.” Maggie scooted closer to Val on the sofa. “I love you. You’re the greatest. You’re brave, and feisty, and I admire the way you’ve put yourself back together after that shit of a husband did the dirty on you. But you have a problem. A legitimate problem,” she added hastily after one look at Val’s face. “I understand it, but you aren’t right in this instance. Your mother deserves a chance at happiness. I know this is her third marriage—”
“Fourth.”
“Okay, I know this is her fourth marriage, but maybe she’s right. Maybe this time it will be for keeps. And while I’m talking frankly, maybe you should just go with the flow and take a chance on love yourself. After all, what’s the worst that can happen?” She chewed her lip. “And talking about love, I have something else I have to talk to you about.”
Logan 02 Three Minutes to Happiness Page 9