Spin

by Bella Love

  “Rather not right now.”

  I nodded. “So tell me something about college.”

  He gave a small shake of his head, lifted and dropped one shoulder. “I just knew it wasn’t right for me.”

  I nodded and stroked his guitar. It was a nice little shield. I’d have to take it up. “Like I knew I couldn’t host another jamboree in Dodge. Sometimes you just know. I needed bigger jamborees.”

  Finn smiled faintly, although it was kind of grim, whereas before it had been mostly sexy. He held up his glass.

  “Here’s to getting out, Janey.”

  I looked away and strummed a chord. Was that what I’d done?

  God, I was sick of thinking about home. It was always on the edge of my radar, like a sea monster, lurking. How far did I have to run before it dropped out of sight?

  “Okay, can we stop talking about Dodge and our parents now?” I said abruptly.

  “Absolutely,” he said, quietly, like he knew. Probably did. Dodge Run was like a tattoo, a brand. It stuck with a soul.

  He was watching me handle his Gibson. His gaze was dark across the sunlit room.

  “Will you teach me to play?” I asked, strumming an off-tune chord.

  “Sure.” He didn’t move.

  “But not now,” I surmised. Like I said, stupid but not dumb.

  He shook his head real slow. “We’ve got other plans tonight.”

  A shiver of heat went through me. The guitar was warm in my lap. “What have you got in mind?” I asked, going for sultry again.

  His smile was slow and hot. “How you feeling right now?”

  I set the guitar beside me on the couch. “Very, very awesome.”

  “Good. Come here.”

  He held out his hand and I went. He tugged on my fingertips and sat me down on the arm of his chair, then slid his hand around my back and pointed out the huge window, down the hill. “Look.”

  I stared into the greenery forty yards away. “At what?”

  “Eagle. In the tree. The big one.”

  I stared. They were all big.

  “Up there.” He pointed. His arm, powerful and long, stretched out beside my head.

  “Bald eagle?”

  “Yep.”

  “Wow,” I murmured, peering at a dark splotch in a tree.

  Then it took flight. Enormous wings opened and its body stretched out, its wingspan over half my body height. We watched it wing over the meadow. I was pretty impressed.

  And…I’d expect to be kissed, touched, perhaps assaulted—in a good way—not instructed on the wildlife. Not that I minded wildlife. I shifted my bottom around and peered down at him.

  “You didn’t notice me either, you know, back then.”

  “I noticed you very much when you were kissing me.”

  “I mean in between,” I complained. “What were you too busy being?”

  He slid his hand down around my hip. “Who says I didn’t notice you?”

  The thought of that, of being noticed by Finn and being too busy and perfect to notice it, was stunning. Almost frightening. What else had I missed?

  How much had he noticed?

  “Really?” My voice sounded a little high-pitched. I leveled it. “You noticed me?”

  “Yeah, I noticed.” His thick fingers popped open the top button of my silk shirt. “This has to come off.”

  I wasn’t the sort to go marathons in bed. Like triple-fudge chocolate, one orgasm was usually enough. With a break, I might have two in me. But I’d already had three with Finn, and if he wanted to go for four, I was ready to give it my all.

  “Lift up your skirt,” he said. His fingers descended, flicked the next button open. “I want to see your legs.”

  I snorted softly. “You want to see my underwear.”

  “Good idea.” He scooped me up and carried me to the couch. “Keep the heels and the Wonder Woman gear on. Everything else comes off.”

  “Gear?” I tumbled down onto the couch. “What do you think I have on under here?”

  He knelt before me and pushed his hand up my skirt. “A lasso?”

  I felt all wobbly as I sank into the couch, my knees on either side of his head. “I wish.”

  His head tipped up. “Really?”

  The way he zeroed in on this was a little scary. “Tell me you don’t have a lasso,” I said nervously.

  He smiled. “Cuffs.”

  I cupped his face and pulled him forward, across the tops of my thighs, to my mouth. “Finn, you are a bad boy,” I whispered.

  “You hope I’m very bad.” He kissed me and tugged on my skirt.

  I shuggled down to give him access. “You need help.”

  “Yes. I need you to pull up your skirt so I can see your underwear.”

  I laughed and did as he asked. Just doing my civic duty.

  “Let’s just take this whole thing off,” he suggested, tugging on my shirt.

  “And this,” I countered, pulling on his, and within seconds, we were naked, well, all but my Wonder Woman gear, and Finn was a piece of work. Artwork. I felt breathless at the sight of him, the line of muscles in his neck as he bent his head to mine, his sculpted arms, his hard legs, the bones of his competent hands on me everywhere.

  “I hope you don’t need food,” he murmured.

  “What’s food?”

  He laid me flat on the sofa. “Because I can be quick,” he let me know as his mouth worked its way down my belly.

  “How fast?”

  “You’d be surprised.”

  “I’ll time you.” I felt very sexy and very nasty and very good. Finn laughed and I felt even better. Then he pushed my legs apart and slid his tongue into me and I felt freaking incredible.

  Five

  ~ Finn ~

  JANEY MAC WAS in my arms, on my couch, with her legs spread, laughing up at me. I wasn’t sure how it was ever going to get any better than this.

  “Were you serious about the stopwatch?” I asked as I lipped her breasts. They were small and fit perfectly in my hands. Her nipples were diamond-hard, rosy and tight in my mouth.

  Her laughter carried her answer. “No.”

  “Good.”

  “Speed is not a priority.”

  “I don’t think I’ve shown you the bedroom.”

  “Oh, a tour.”

  I coaxed her up and led us into the bedroom. “Here is the door,” I said as she went through it. “And here is the bed,” I said and pushed her down onto it.

  She laughed and went down willingly, pushing up on her elbows, her hair spilling over my sheets. I didn’t waste any time. I took hold of her hips and pulled her to the edge of the bed where I stood.

  “Wow,” she said as I dragged her. “This is really nice.” She slid her hand over the sheets. “Egyptian?”

  “If you want.”

  She laughed. “No, are they Egyptian cotton?”

  “If you want.”

  She shook her head, clearly dismayed by my lack of attention to sheet details, while I stood between her knees, not moving, just looking at her. So many options. Where to begin?

  Her brows went up. “What?”

  “I’m debating.”

  “Uh-oh. Is it criminal?”

  I grinned. “If you want.”

  I felt that idea get her hotter. “I’m thinking about standing you up against the wall, so I can see your gear better.”

  She blinked. “Oh.” I don’t think she’d considered the wall an option.

  “But the bed has a lot to recommend it too.”

  She nodded. “It’s so horizontal.”

  “Variety is the spice of life,” I said, even as I was ripping open the condom packet and positioning myself between her legs. I really didn’t want to wait. The pageant could come later. Right now I just wanted to sink into her.

  I knelt between her legs and put an elbow on each side of her head and stretched out over her. Our eyes met.

  “You good?” I asked softly.

  “I am very, very go
od,” she whispered back and touched my face.

  I entered her slowly, very slowly, claiming each inch of her heat like the gift it was. Her hips came up to meet mine, moving as slow as I was. We never looked away from each other. I pushed a little harder, in a little deeper, and felt a little better.

  Her breath came a little faster, her chin tipped up, her lips parted.

  We took it slow, and it was good, really good. Her body moved, her eyes closed, and I thought I had her. She was moving with me, our sweaty bodies rocking together, but somewhere in there, I lost her.

  I looked down and saw her staring blankly at my shoulder. I could almost hear the whirr of gears in her head. I rocked my hips some more, she rocked back absently.

  “Want some popcorn?” I asked.

  Her eyes snapped to mine. “Sorry?”

  “Popcorn. For the show.”

  She flushed. “I’m sorry.”

  “You’re pretty distracted.”

  “No! I just, I was just…”

  “Are you thinking about portable bars?”

  Her eyes looked guilty. “No! Well, no. Not much.”

  “You need to stop thinking.”

  “It’s a habit.”

  “A bad one.”

  She nodded. “Sometimes it’s awful.” She pushed her hair off her forehead. “Sometimes it’s hard for me to stay focused,” she admitted, and her voice dropped. “And sometimes I get self-conscious.”

  “Self-conscious?” I stared. “You’re fucking beautiful. You’re making me crazy. I can hardly think I’m so horny. I’m in the middle of fucking you, Janey. You can’t get any more beautiful than you are right now.”

  “I know,” she said sadly. Her fingers touched my arm. “Maybe you should just….” She waved her hand through the air. “You know, take care of business.”

  “Babe, you are my business.” I rolled us both over, sliding out of her.

  “Don’t worry. It’ll be good for me too that way,” she assured me in an encouraging tone. The only thing she didn’t do was pat my arm.

  “Janey.”

  Her face flushed. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” She touched my face. Her forehead wrinkled in little furrows. She looked like she’d just been told she was about to fail a test.

  I leaned in, kissed her mouth, and rolled off the bed. “Stay here,” I ordered and went into the kitchen and grabbed my glass of water.

  “What are you doing?” she called from the bedroom.

  “Stay calm.”

  “I’m very calm.”

  “You are the opposite of calm.”

  She was quiet a second. “I’m pretty sure that’s your fault.”

  “Right. You’re usually a Buddha of calm.”

  I filled the glass to the rim with ice cubes and went back in. She was lying pretty much where I’d left her, except she’d pushed her body closer to the headboard and had dragged a sheet over her body. She eyed the glass. “What’s that?”

  “Dangerous stuff.”

  “What are you going to do with it?

  “Lay back and close your eyes,” I said, crawling onto the bed. I put the glass on the nightstand.

  She swallowed. Her fingers tightened on the sheet so hard she was almost clutching it.

  I sighed. “Janey, relax.”

  She nodded. “Right. Okay. That’s what I’m going to do right now. Watch me.” Her eyes shut obediently. Her fingers curled along the top of the sheet, which was pulled demurely just over the swell of her breasts.

  “All right,” she announced. “Here I am, relaxed.”

  I shook my head and scooped out an ice cube from the cup. I took hold of one of her wrists, which she let me lift over her head. I laid it on the pillows, then slid the ice cube up the sensitive underside of her arm.

  Her eyes snapped open.

  I smiled. “Hi.” I slid the ice farther. Drips of freezing-cold water dripped down her arm and onto the sheets. I heard her breath catch. I slid it into her armpit and her body arched up and tightened.

  “Close your eyes,” I said.

  She closed them. I slid the ice from her armpit to the swell of her breast, and her lips parted around a gasp. Slowly, giving it lots of time to melt, I moved the ice up her breast then over her nipple, which was now hard and puckered.

  She flung her arms across her face, elbows bent. The sheet slid down. I pulled it farther, exposing her to her abdomen. She bent a knee, and I dragged the sheet off that too, until she looked like a Roman goddess, half covered in her toga.

  I moved to the other side of her body, kneeling across her and sliding the ice cube down her arm, from the overturned wrist flung across her face, to her elbow, and into her hot armpit. Her head, hidden under her arms, pushed back into the pillows with a moan.

  I circled her other nipple with the ice until it was a hard, almost-icy pebbled peak and she was panting, then I bent and took her into my hot mouth. She gave a broken gasp and rolled her body slightly from side to side, her hips pushing up.

  Reaching behind me, I grabbed more ice and started down her belly. My hand was getting a little numb, but her body was hot and ready, and the ice was melting fast, sending rivulets dripping down her waist, wetting the sheets beneath her. Her body had a sheen from sweat and ice and was arched for me, her hair tangled and mussed, falling all around her face. She looked good against my pillows.

  I slid the ice down her belly right into her belly button. Her head flew back as she gasped, then she lowered one arm and laid her hand on my thigh, trying to find my dick.

  “Paying attention now?” I asked softly.

  I heard her laugh under the cover of her other arm.

  “Don’t think about me. Focus on the ice.”

  “Oh, the ice is all I can think about,” she assured me.

  I yanked the sheets off her entirely, grabbed two pillows, propped her knees on them, then spread them wide and glided an ice cube up the hot, sensitive skin of her inner thigh.

  A high-pitched gasp ripped through her body and her knees dropped open a little more. I followed the ice up her thigh with my mouth. Her body was in a constant motion now, small, bending, arching motions, jerking with every cold drip and frozen swipe, moving to catch every hot lick of my tongue, pushing up for more of every breath I sailed over her skin.

  Up I went, to the juncture of her thighs. She’d pushed her legs apart as far as she could by now, giving me lots of access. I lifted my hand and fisted it in the air and let one icy drop of water fall onto her hot pussy.

  I’m surprised it didn’t sizzle.

  Her hips snapped up, her head banged back into the headboard and she gave a long, crying moan.

  It sounded good to me.

  I cupped my hand and rubbed the ice cube into her folds in one merciless swipe. She screamed in pleasure. Then I teased her, ice and tongue, up her thighs, across her belly, over her nipples, until she was crying. I went for her center again, deep in the slippery folds that were hot and wet, shocking her body with the ice. I touched it to her clitoris and followed it with my mouth until she was a gasping, undulating, ready-to-come woman. I kept my tongue on her and circled her entryway with the ice, then slid it slightly inside, pushing her open.

  A broken sob tore from her. “Finn,” she whispered.

  Enough. I flung the ice away and positioned myself between her knees. Her hands held my hips, guiding me in. It was shocking, her iced pussy, and fucking good. I gripped my dick and leaned over her, one palm beside her head, and entered her with a hard thrust.

  Hard, tight heat, she was so fucking good. I couldn’t stop pumping, pushing in deeper. She met me at every crest, her hands on my body, kissing whatever she could reach, my elbow, my chest, my ear.

  I leaned my mouth by her ear and rasped, “You’re so fucking tight.”

  “I haven’t done this much,” she whispered back.

  “Good.” I hooked her knee over my arm and plowed into her so hard I fucked her right up to the headboard, swift, merciless
fucking, no mercy for her inexperience, and she was there for it, urging me on, her head back, her throat a pale, sweaty curve, chanting my name softly, “Oh Finn, oh Finn, fuck…. Finn.”

  I felt my orgasm barreling up on me like a storm, coming hard and fast. I shoved over on one elbow and pushed my hand down between our bodies, stroking her clitoris. She cried out then froze, then I felt her body start to clench in undulations around me.

  Fuck yeah.

  I surged one more time and climaxed in a thundering, roaring wave of fire and jamming heat. I lifted myself into her, over and over, unable to get enough, and she held onto me until the end, meeting me plunge for plunge, until our bodies were finally spent.

  I lay on top of her for a long time, just barely propping myself up so I avoided smothering her. Her flesh continued to ripple around me, orgasmic remnants that I didn’t want to miss.

  “Well,” she said in a hoarse voice. “I think I’m relaxed now.”

  I laughed raggedly and pulled out, rolled her into my side. I kissed her damp head.

  “I love you being in me,” she whispered.

  “Me too,” I said.

  A lot. Maybe too much. This might turn out to be a problem.

  Six

  ~ Jane ~

  WE LAY IN Finn’s bed after, with its soft pale sheets and amazing pillows. Moonlight washed into the room. Apparently, somehow, during the endless moments of Finn’s body pressed into mine, time had moved on. The moon had risen, owls had landed in the trees. I didn’t even recall any of that happening.

  Finn lay beside me. His thigh was up against mine, hot and firm. He had one arm thrown across the pillows above our heads. The definition in his muscles in moonlight was like a sculpture. His breathing was slow and rhythmic, but he wasn’t asleep. I knew it. He was listening to me breathe, feeling my leg up against his, watching the curve of my body in the moonlight.

  “Do you know how good I feel?” I asked.

  “About an eleven on a one to ten scale,” he said, his voice rough and sexy just because.

  I rolled my head to the side and looked at him. “Aren’t you a little cocky?”

  He shook his head. “Mm-mm. Just certain.” The arm he had on the pillow came down to curl around my back.