All the Way

by Kristen Proby

  Sasha and I snort with laughter, we’re snorting a lot tonight, and clink our glasses again.

  “Cheers to scoring,” I reply, and wiggle my eyebrows. “Scoring regularly is nice.”

  “So Finn’s good in bed.”

  I just nod and take a drink of water. I am tipsy.

  “Like, porn-star good?”

  “How would I know if he’s porn-star good?”

  “Don’t you watch porn?”

  I’m laughing so hard now I have to put the water down or I’ll spill it all over myself. “No, I don’t watch porn.”

  “You’re missing out. Okay, how good is he?”

  “I don’t know if I feel comfortable giving you the details of our sex life. He’s not a fuck life for me.”

  “Don’t give me all the details. Just a couple of them.” She leans in and rests her chin on her fist. “Love sex is much better than fuck sex.”

  “Yeah,” I agree with a thoughtful nod. Man, my head is fuzzy. “Although we still fuck. We do both.”

  “That’s nice.”

  “Yeah. And he likes to carry me around. Like, boost me up on things and stuff.”

  “Hot,” she says, fanning her face.

  “Totally hot. And he’s really good with his mouth.”

  “Gotta love a man who’s good with his mouth.” We clink our glasses and take a shot.

  “Cheers to that,” I reply, and then giggle. “So yeah, Finn’s got skills.”

  “Good for you,” she says with a nod. My house phone rings. “You’re fancy, with your house phone.”

  “I have to have it for the doorman,” I reply, and pick up the phone. “Yello.”

  Sasha snorts, and I put my finger up to my lips, telling her to be quiet, but she doesn’t listen.

  “Hello, Ms. Watson, Mr. Cavanaugh is here to see you.”

  “Oh. Send him up.” I hang up and turn to Sasha in excitement. “Finn’s here!”

  “I thought he was in Florida.”

  “I did too.” I sit back on my stool at the kitchen island and shrug. “He must have come home early.”

  “He missed the fuck life,” she says with a wise nod. “And I can’t blame him.”

  “You’re silly.” But man, I hope that’s the case, because I miss him.

  Which is silly. He’s only been gone for like thirty-six hours.

  There’s a knock on the door, and I hurry over to answer it.

  “Hey!” I throw myself in his arms and hug him tightly. “You’re here!”

  “I’m here.” He leans back so he can look at me and smiles widely. “And you’re drunk.”

  “Tipsy,” I correct him. “And I’m so glad you’re here because you finally get to meet my BFF, Sasha.”

  “Well, helloooooo there,” she says, looking him up and down. And who can blame her? I mean, look at him.

  “Nice to meet you, Sasha.”

  “I get it now,” she says to me with a nod. “And when the salt and pepper starts? Holy fuck.”

  “Right?”

  “I’m missing something,” Finn says, but I just shake my head no.

  “I should go,” Sasha says.

  “No, I didn’t mean to interrupt your evening,” Finn says. “I just got back to town and thought I’d stop and say hi.”

  “It’s okay,” Sasha replies, slinging her handbag over her shoulder. “I need to call my fuck life. I don’t want to waste this tequila.”

  She hugs me, and wiggles her fingers good-bye as she walks out the door.

  “Please tell me she’s taking a cab,” Finn says.

  “Oh yeah, we don’t drive in the city.”

  He pulls me into his arms and kisses me softly. “You smell like tequila.”

  “That’s because I’ve been drinking it,” I reply, and drag my fingertips down his cheek. “We don’t do this often, but tonight it felt good.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “That I don’t do it often, or that it felt good?”

  “Both.” He kisses my forehead, and even that makes my girl parts tingle.

  I giggle.

  “What?” he asks.

  “You make my girl parts tingle,” I whisper.

  “Is that right?”

  “You’ve been making my girl parts tingle for some time now.” He picks me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist as he carries me into my bedroom and drops me on the bed. “And I like it when you carry me.”

  “I know.” He takes off his suit jacket and lays it on the chair in the corner. “What else do you like?”

  “I like how professional you look in a suit.”

  His lips twitch, and I want to bite him. Just because.

  “Well, that’s good, because I wear them a lot.” He takes off his tie and then unbuttons his shirt and they join the suit jacket.

  “I also like the way you look when you’re not wearing a suit.”

  He laughs now and steps out of his pants and drops his underwear and he’s standing before me gloriously naked.

  And turned on.

  “That might have been the sexiest striptease I’ve ever seen.”

  “I bet you can do better,” he replies, his brown eyes shining with fun and lust, and I decide to take that bet.

  I climb off the bed, push him to sit on the edge of it, and walk a few steps away from him, my back to him. I cock one hip out to the side, my legs spread wide, and cross my arms so I can grip the hem of my shirt and pull it over my head.

  I spin to face him and toss it in his face. I’m just in my bra and shorts now. I do a little dance, moving my hips back and forth, then hook my thumbs in my shorts and turn to the side so he has a profile view of me lowering the shorts slowly down my legs.

  I’m bent all the way over now. I glance his way and bite my lip when I see that he’s stroking himself, not shy in the least about pleasuring himself at the sight of me.

  That’s fucking hot.

  I stand and turn my back to him again and reach behind me to unfasten my bra, let it slide down my arms, and when I turn, my arms are covering my breasts, holding the open bra in place.

  “Let it go,” he commands, his voice gruff.

  “You’re not in charge of this striptease,” I reply, and make a tsk tsk noise. He raises a brow, but he’s smiling, enjoying the show.

  Turning my back again, I let the bra fall and loop my thumbs into my bikini panties, and with Finn staring right at my ass, I pull them down my legs, and like I did with the shorts, I bend completely over, giving him a prime view of the goods.

  I hear him gasp, and before I can turn around, he’s behind me, one hand on my ass, and one gliding down the length of my spine.

  “Do you have any idea how fucking gorgeous you are?” he asks. His hand slides down the crack of my ass, over my anus, and to my wet pussy, where his fingers tickle and rub before he slides a finger inside me.

  “Oh, fuck,” I mutter. I’m dizzy and so damn turned on I don’t know what to do with myself.

  And I don’t have to know because Finn guides me to the bed, but doesn’t have me lie on my back. No, he keeps me bent over and falls to his knees so he can drive me absolutely insane with his talented mouth.

  I have to grip on to the covers, bury my face in the bed, and cry out as he makes me come, not just once, but twice.

  Finally, he stands and replaces his talented mouth with his talented cock.

  Thank the good lord.

  “I can’t stay away from you,” he says as he grips on to my shoulders and fucks me hard from behind. “I came home early because I need you, and that hasn’t happened to me before, London.”

  “So glad it happened,” I pant, and reach under me so I can touch his balls as he thrusts in and out. He groans, and I feel his balls tighten.

  He’s close.

  I bear down, squeezing around him, fondling him, and smile in satisfaction when he groans and pushes fully inside me, grinding as he comes harder than he ever has with me before.

  He slaps my ass, something
that I’ve discovered I really love, and we climb up on the bed to collapse in a happy heap.

  “So glad it happened,” I repeat.

  “Did that sober you up any?” he asks.

  “Oh yeah. I’m only a little fuzzy now.” I roll over to him and take over my favorite spot on his chest. “That might have been the best sort of drunk sex in the history of the world.”

  “I won’t disagree with you.”

  I kiss his chest. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Me too, baby.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  ~Finn~

  It’s quiet at work today. I don’t know if it’s a full moon, or a new moon, or if Venus is in the house of the rising sun, but I’ll take it. London’s been gone for roughly twenty-four hours. I’ve never missed anyone the way I do her.

  I’m a lovesick kid for the first time in my life. I always gave my buddies shit for being lovesick, but now I get it.

  I open my laptop and start a search for real estate in L.A. just as Quinn and Carter walk into my office like they own the place, because they do, and have a seat.

  “What’s up, guys?”

  “We haven’t seen much of you lately,” Carter says, and crosses one ankle over the opposite knee.

  “So you thought you’d just randomly come in my office?”

  “We could do lunch,” Quinn says. “What are you looking at over there?”

  “Real estate.”

  “You just bought that condo,” Carter replies.

  “And I’m keeping it,” I say. “But I’m considering something in L.A.”

  They’re quiet, too quiet, so I glance up to find them both staring at me like I’ve gone off my rocker. “What?”

  “You want to move to L.A.?” Quinn asks.

  “No, not full-time anyway. But London’s going to be working there, and if this film does as well as everyone thinks, she’ll be working out there more and more. Having a place would be much better than living out of a hotel room.”

  “You can rent a house,” Carter suggests.

  “Real estate isn’t a bad investment,” Quinn says, and I nod.

  “Exactly. It would be an investment property that we use when London’s on set.”

  “We?” Carter asks, and leans forward. “Finn, we have a firm to run here.”

  “And as you know, I can do a lot of the work remotely.”

  “Not all of it,” Carter counters. “We can’t just have you jetting off to follow your girlfriend around. I mean, I’m as romantic as the next guy, but this just doesn’t make sense.”

  “Have I let either of you down yet? I spend months away every year; the difference is now I have a woman that I care about with me. There won’t be a problem with my work ethic.”

  “We’re not questioning your work ethic,” Quinn adds. “But this is a different level of commitment. It’s different if she’s here, but if you’re planning on being gone, even twenty percent of the time, that leaves a lot on us, and I’m not sure I’m okay with that.”

  “Fuck,” I mutter, and rub my fingers over my mouth in frustration. “Are you saying I should be apart from her for months at a time?”

  “I’m not suggesting anything.” Carter sits back with his hands up in surrender. “I’m just concerned, that’s all.”

  “Well, if this becomes a problem, we will say something,” Quinn says, watching me closely. “Whether you like it or not.”

  “I would expect nothing less. What do you think of this?” I spin the computer so they can see it. “It’s in West Beverly Hills.”

  “Have you talked to her about this?” Carter asks.

  “No.” I look up and pause. “Maybe I’ll surprise her.”

  “Don’t do that,” Carter replies, shaking his head. “Women like to pick out their own place. Choosing it for her is a recipe for disaster.”

  “I agree,” Quinn says. “I wouldn’t want someone to just choose a house for me. And I know a woman will want to get what she considers to be her style.”

  “I think that goes for anyone,” Carter adds.

  “She’s under a lot of stress already,” I say, sounding reasonable to my own ears. “I can take this off of her plate and just handle it. So all she has to do is take a suitcase and move right in. We’re not leaving New York, so we won’t have to pack everything we own. I’ll buy new stuff.”

  “You’re going to furnish it without letting her do it?” Carter asks. “Are you trying to be single?”

  “I’m trying to help her out,” I say, getting frustrated now. “Trust me, she would appreciate this.”

  “Uh-huh. Right. Have you guys discussed your controlling tendencies?” Quinn shakes his head. “Well, the first thing you should do is call a Realtor.”

  “True. They can narrow it down for me. Maybe we should sell her condo.” I rub my chin and look out the window to the city, thinking it over. “That would really make the most sense. I plan on having her move in with me anyway. We don’t need two condos in the city.”

  “Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself?” Quinn asks.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Ask the girl if she wants to move in with you before you decide to list her condo.”

  “I’m not going to list her condo. It’s not in my name.” I shake my head and frown. “That’s not possible.”

  “Because if it was possible, that’s exactly what he would do,” Carter says to Quinn, who nods.

  “What are you saying?”

  “That you’re a control freak, and when you get an idea in your head, you go full throttle, without asking others involved if it’s something they also want.”

  I stare at my brother-in-law in confusion. “When have I done that?”

  Both of them laugh, and I just close my laptop. “You know what, if you’re going to be dicks, you can leave. I don’t have time for this.”

  “Right, because you’re planning to sell your girlfriend’s house out from under her so you can buy a house in L.A. that she hasn’t expressed any interest in wanting.”

  “That makes me sound like an asshole.”

  Quinn shrugs and Carter hides a smile behind his hand.

  “Fuck both of you.”

  “All right, all right. This isn’t why we came here,” Quinn says, laughing and clearly enjoying tormenting me. “We really should go grab a bite.”

  “Either that, or I’m going to duck out of here for the day. Why is it so quiet?” Carter asks. “And why do I feel like it’s the quiet before the storm?”

  “Because you always think the worst is going to happen,” Quinn reminds him.

  “Sure, mister, I’m sure my mom is having a stroke and a heart attack.”

  “Don’t start with me,” Quinn says, getting riled up. “I’m not the one who didn’t tell me that my sister was dying until it was too late to spend some decent time with her.”

  “We’ve been over this,” Carter begins, but I cut him off.

  “Enough. No lunch today. Both of you go home and do whatever it is you do to let off some steam. This is an old argument that doesn’t make any sense now. It’s done.”

  Quinn sighs. “Yeah, I’m going home. Sorry, man.”

  He stands and leaves, and Carter and I are left staring at each other.

  “Are you guys ever going to forgive me?”

  “We did a long time ago,” I assure him. “Quinn is still working through the grief.”

  “Yeah, me too,” he says with a sad smile. “I never said thanks for going on that first date with me. It didn’t occur to me until later that it could have been painful for you.”

  “It’s not. You have to move on with your life, Carter. Darcy would want that.”

  He just frowns, and then stands. “I’m going home too. Gabby should be home anytime. I’ll help her with her homework.”

  “Have a good day.”

  He walks out and I open the laptop again. This place in Hollywood looks amazing. I reach for my phone and make a call.


  “How are you, baby?” I grin and maneuver my way through traffic, happy to finally hear London’s voice today.

  “I’m good,” she says. “I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to call earlier. It’s been a busy day.”

  “It’s okay, I understand. How did everything go? Tell me about it.”

  “The contract signing took forever because I had my agent and an entertainment attorney there. I haven’t done that before, but there is more involved here, so we went through page by page.”

  “How many pages is the contract?”

  “Seventy-eight.”

  “That’s a long day,” I reply with a laugh. “I’m glad you brought the attorney in.”

  “My agent suggested it, and I thought it was a good idea. We had a few changes, and I countered for more money, but I know they expected that.”

  “Of course.” I nod and switch lanes. She’s so damn intelligent. “Have I told you today how proud I am of you, London?”

  “I don’t think so.” I can hear the smile in her voice, and I want nothing more than to be there with her right now, celebrating properly.

  “Well, I am so proud of you. This is a big deal, and that’s not lost on me.”

  “I know, and I appreciate that,” she replies. “So, although it was a long day of reading a bunch of legalese that I didn’t entirely understand and then having it explained to me, and my brain is about as full as it can be for one day, I can honestly say that it went very well.”

  “That’s good news. What’s on deck for tomorrow?”

  “I’m meeting with the choreographer and Jeffrey to run some lines together. It’s starting to happen quickly now.”

  “When do you have to be back in L.A. to start production?”

  “In three weeks.”

  “It’ll be here before you know it,” I reply. “This is exciting, and I’m looking forward to you being home soon.”

  “Me too. I’m homesick for sure.”

  “Oh, I have news for you.” I pull into my mother’s driveway and put the car in park. “I called to check on the trust like you asked, and Kyle did apply for funding for rehab. It sounds like he was honest about that.”

  “That’s really good news.”

  “I still don’t trust him,” I add. “Just because he’s applied for the funding doesn’t mean that he’ll actually go.”