A smile broke across her face. “No one’s going to miss me, Mr. Romantic, because I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying, if you’ll still have me as your guesthouse guest.”
21
Finn lifted her off her feet and spun her around. She laughed as the sunset sky swung in wild arcs overhead. When her feet were back on the ground, he took her hand and dragged her toward the guesthouse, which was fast becoming one of her favorite places in the entire world.
“That would be a yes,” he said as he ushered her inside. “Welcome home.”
“Thank you, it’s nice to be—” She gasped when he spun her around so his front pressed into her back. She felt his erection rise thick and hard against her. In a flash, hot need gathered between her legs.
“Nice to be what?” he breathed in her ear. He ran his hands all over her, molding her waist and hips, curving up her front to cup her breasts. She leaned her head back against his chest. Her body relaxed into him as if she had no say in the matter. He slid one hand inside her camisole and found a nipple. A light pinch of his fingers brought an electric pulse to life inside her body.
How did he know just how to touch her? Just the right degree of roughness, the perfect pressure and friction. She closed her eyes against the flood of sensation.
“Nice to be what?” he asked again. He nibbled her earlobe and her breath came faster.
“Nice to be here…” She caught her breath as he cupped both of her breasts in his warm hands and pulled at her nipples. “With you. I really appreciate everything you’ve do-one,” she finished with another gasp.
“Appreciate?” He squeezed harder. The pleasure was so acute she wanted to scream. “So formal.”
With one hand firmly fondling her breasts, he slid the other down her body, under the waistband of her pants. “Okay, I really appreciate—” His hand found her panties and another sentence trailed off in a moan.
“So wet for me,” he growled.
She didn’t answer, having given up on words by now. Her body was telling him everything he needed to know. She didn’t need to say anything.
He bunched her underwear in his fist. The action tightened it against her mound. The slight friction drove her mad, and she began thrusting her hips forward, wanting more.
“I appreciate your appreciation, but that’s not what I want from you, Lisa.” He pulled the fabric tighter. “I want your arousal. Your screams. Your surrender.”
Surrender…she wasn’t good at surrender. She was too wary, too practical, too logical. But even so, she parted her legs under the pressure of his strong fingers, giving in to his unspoken demand. Her hips twitched, the need for closer contact nearly unbearable.
“That’s what I want. What do you want, Lisa?” he murmured. “Tell me.”
“Just…you. Touching me.”
“Touching you? Where? How about here?” He slid her panties to the side. She bit her lip and writhed against him, waiting desperately for the relief she craved. Where were his fingers? What was taking him so long?
She glanced up and saw what was causing the delay. He was gazing down her body with an expression of such urgent lust that she nearly came from that alone. Her heart rolled over in her chest. This wasn’t just sex. This wasn’t just enjoying some physical release. This was something real.
And then his finger touched her clit and her thoughts scattered like petals in the wind. He stroked through her slick folds, finding the hot kernel where all her need was centered. At the first pressure, fireworks exploded at the edges of her vision. “Finn,” she cried. “Oh my God.”
“That’s right, baby. I want you screaming my name.” He rubbed a little faster, teasing, arousing, taking her up and away, into a place of bright, hot need. His finger was everything. It owned her. It promised the world, everything, right over the horizon, pure pleasure calling to her, just out of reach, beckoning, commanding…
She twisted in his arms, out of her mind with want. He was muttering in her ear, hot words that urged her on. “That’s it, get it, girl…God, you’re so sexy, so beautiful, you’re going to come against my hand and it’s going to be the best thing you ever felt and I’m going to watch you come apart.”
Then he shifted his hand position, leaving her exposed and alone for half a moment. She moaned and jerked back against him.
“Don’t you worry, Lisa. I will never leave you hanging. I swear it. I’ll always take care of you.” And his hand was back, not just the pad of his finger this time, but his whole hand, hot and rough and big enough to take her entire pussy into his palm. He pressed down just so against her clit and teased her breasts with his other hand.
Oh my God.
The first convulsion ripped through her body, so powerful she nearly jerked out of his grip. But he was so strong, so present. He held on tight as her orgasm erupted with the force of a volcano. Intense pleasure burst through her, one spasm after another. And his hand…oh, his hand, so tight against her, such a perfect fit, so exactly where she needed it. She squeezed her eyes shut and rode the wave like a roller coaster, as if there was nothing she could do except surrender and drink in each ecstatic moment.
So maybe surrender wasn’t impossible.
Even when the convulsions slowed, he kept her safe in his tight embrace. She hung in his arms, panting, boneless, so limp she imagined collapsing to the floor if he let her go. Her jagged breaths mingled with his low, wordless murmurs. Something about “incredible,” and “wow” and something that sounded like “love.” But it couldn’t be that.
As her awareness returned to normal, she became conscious of the rock-hard erection prodding her lower back. Surely it was his turn. And she wanted to do something for him. Something that might be even half as good as what he’d just given her.
She turned to face him. His eyes were deep and dark, heavy with passion. His nostrils flared as if he was trying to contain himself. But she didn’t want him to contain himself. She wanted him to lose his cool the way she just had.
She dropped to her knees, surprising him. Not bothering to be gentle—the man had just made her lose her mind and he looked like he was about to explode—she undid his belt buckle and opened his jeans, yanked them down his legs. The strong curve of his thighs made her mouth water. Between them, his boxer briefs barely held in his swelling flesh.
“You look ridiculously good in your underwear,” she murmured as she ran one exploratory hand across that impressive lump, ridges and softness combined. “They should put you on a billboard in your Calvin Kleins.”
“Not anymore.” He lifted his shirt to flash the red ridges of his scar tissue. “It’s right here on my body. Firefighter all the way.”
“Hey, I’d still enjoy seeing you on a billboard. But this is even better.” She reached in and freed his penis from his underwear. “Up close and personal.” She pressed her lips to his hot, velvety erection. She loved his male scent, simultaneously sweet and a little salty. Heat poured off him. Looking up, she saw the rippled muscles of his stomach tighten. “Take your shirt off, fireman. I want to see you.”
He hesitated, then pulled it off. She raised herself higher on her knees so she could reach the scars on his abdomen. She kissed her way lightly across them. Scar tissue didn’t have the same nerve endings as undamaged skin, so she knew the sensation was probably a little strange. But it was part of him, and it deserved just as much loving attention as the rest.
“This might sound strange, but I find scar tissue amazing,” she murmured.
“It’s ugly.”
“It has a different form, that’s all. But your body made this stuff. It patched itself up—along with some help from us medical professionals, of course. And I find that fascinating.” Kissing his torso, being so close to those magnificent muscles, was practically decadent. She loved watching his chest rise and fall with the rhythm of his rapid breaths, loved seeing his head tilt down so he could watch her, so intent and predatory. She loved feeling his cock react to her every move with eager puls
es.
“I’ve heard the word ‘repulsive’ used.”
“That’s ridiculous, Finn. Objectively speaking, you’re the most attractive person I’ve ever known. A few scars don’t change that.”
She landed one last kiss on the mass of angry scar tissue, then turned her attention to the thick shaft between his thighs. It throbbed to her touch. She felt tension running through his body. She bent her head and touched her lips to its petal-soft skin. It burned with heat. Such a contradiction—tender skin stretched over tense muscle. Strength wrapped up in restraint, power held back.
Finn practically vibrated under her touch as she slowly swirled her tongue across the head of his cock. Learning, exploring, tasting. She didn’t know where this urge came from, this need to feel his strength against her tongue. Never before had she longed to taste a man, or craved the weight of his flesh inside her mouth. The things Finn made her feel…it was insane and totally beyond her experience.
She closed her eyes. The image of Finn’s tense expression and flexing muscles fixed in her mind, she abandoned herself to the moment. The slippery sound of her mouth on his cock, the occasional pop as he slid out, the scent of warm skin and sweat, the feel of thick ridges against her lips, her tongue. Every part of her mouth tingled with heat.
She felt his hand tangle in her hair, not pushing her, not guiding her, just wanting contact. It felt good, that light caress. She opened her eyes a crack for another glimpse of his long, naked torso, sweat gleaming on his skin, his head bent, his forehead creased in something like agony.
“Fuck, I’m going to come,” he muttered. “That feels so damn good, Lisa. I can’t hold back.”
She pulled her mouth from his shaft. Her lips felt swollen, her tongue thick. “Don’t. I don’t want you to hold back. I want you to feel good.”
He gave a short, incredulous laugh. “Fuck it,” he muttered, and pulled himself from her fist.
“What are you—”
“I want to be inside you.” He bent down and scooped her up in his arms.
“But I was—” She ran her tongue over her lips, which still hummed. “I was enjoying that.”
“I was enjoying the hell out of that too, but I want you.” Two strides and he was at the couch.
“What’s wrong with the bed?”
“It’s in a different room.” He lowered her onto the couch, so she was sprawled half on, half off. Her pants were still undone, so it took only a second for him to get rid of them completely. “Hold on to the arm,” he ordered, eyes glittering. “There, above your head. And hang on tight, babe.”
She reached overhead and clutched the arm, just as he’d said, while he pulled a condom from his pocket. He rolled it over his bulging erection with shaky hands, then knelt over her, one foot still planted on the floor, one knee jammed against the back of the couch. He hovered over her, devouring her with a fierce gaze, sweat dotting his forehead. One hand landed on the arm next to hers, the other felt between her legs.
She moaned as he traced her sex, still damp and sensitive from her orgasm. He touched her clit and she thought she might come again, right this minute, which didn’t actually seem possible based on her experience with her own anatomy. “Finn, that feels so good.”
And then he was taking himself into his own hand and guiding his long, thick shaft into her body. She arched and opened for him, using the leverage of her foot on the floor to maneuver more snugly against him.
“Oh man, Lisa. You have no idea what you do to me.” He groaned deeply as he slid farther inside her.
He bent her leg against her chest, opening her wider. She thrust her hips up to meet him. Sharp flashes of sensation zipped through her like lightning. Her inner thighs trembled. He eased out, then thrust in again, using her bent knee to give him some control.
Her eyelashes fluttered halfway shut. The visuals were almost too much—the strain on his face, the tension in his jaw, the flexing of his shoulder muscles. They didn’t speak anymore, just lost themselves in the slickness and heat and roughness and relentless rhythm. They knew everything from the movements of each other’s bodies… On, on, more, deeper, again, better, higher, that’s it, oh my God, that’s it, Finn, now, now…
Together, they arched into a blinding, consuming explosion. She heard him shout something. Deep inside, she felt his cock flutter and pulse. He was all around her, hot and strong and beautiful. And nothing else in the world could compare. Nothing.
22
The next couple of weeks were the happiest of Lisa’s life. Every morning, Finn went to the base to take part in the training drills for the hotshot crew. When he came back, often with a big bouquet of flowers for her, she’d do another therapy session with him. She alternated between working on his scar tissue and massaging his sore muscles.
“This worked out pretty well for you, didn’t it?” she teased him as she worked salve into his scars. “A private masseuse available twenty-four seven. Now I know your true motives.”
“If you want to know my true motives, all you have to do is ask.” And he rolled her under him with a growl.
That was the other thing. Sex. All the time. Amazing sex such as she’d never experienced before.
When they weren’t having sex, they talked. About everything. She told him about the crazy quilt of families she bounced between as a child. “Five total, counting my mother’s four marriages and my father’s two. One to each other, of course.”
“I can beat that. I counted up my father’s girlfriends once. I got up to fifteen and stopped.”
She had to laugh at that. “So why didn’t you end up cynical like me?”
“I have no idea. I always believed in love. All variations. Love at first sight. Love in the afternoon. Love between men, women, whatever.”
“You’re such a sap. It’s embarrassing. You should really join Team Cynic. We can make room for you.”
“Anything for you, my queen.”
She giggled and flicked him on the shoulder. “See, right there’s the problem. You wouldn’t last a week with that romantic attitude of yours.”
“I’ll work on it.”
“No, don’t.” She snuggled her nose into the light scattering of fur on his chest. “I like you just as you are.”
“What a romantic thing to say,” he teased. “I think you’re slipping.”
He told her about becoming a hotshot. At first, he’d wanted to be a structure firefighter, but then a wildfire had come close enough to LA to bring several crews of hotshots to Southern California. The constant TV coverage of the “elite” crews had fired his imagination. After that, nothing could stop him.
They talked about their first kisses. Lisa had cornered the boy next door because she was curious about what a kiss would feel like. Finn had hand-drawn a Valentine’s card for his secret third-grade crush, who surprised him with a kiss.
Lisa explained her “friends with benefits” approach to sex.
“At least it’s honest. Do you know how many times I’ve been asked to show my dad a headshot?”
“What’s a headshot?”
“An actor’s photo—wait, are you serious?”
“I assumed you weren’t talking about a GSW. Gunshot wound,” she translated.
He laughed. “A wound to my ego, that’s all.”
“Poor baby. Don’t worry, your nurse is here to make it all better.”
At first, she thought she’d be bored, since she wasn’t working any shifts at Molly’s. But strangely, she was busier than ever.
First Suzanne called and asked if she would please teach the teenagers at the Star Bright Shelter some basic first-aid techniques. That turned out to be tons of fun, their first lesson being how to properly take care of a new tattoo or piercing. She ended up buying a case of Bactine for the shelter.
She got into the habit of meeting Merry at the Venus and Mars Café every morning after Finn had left. She finally broke down and told Merry about Senator Ruiz and everything that had happened. Merry knew h
er way around Google. She quickly tracked down a story about his divorce from Maria. It mentioned that Maria was now living in Mexico City. Lisa devoured every word of that story, but didn’t find anything that explained why someone had set her motorhome on fire.
Merry also found an obscure little news item in one of the Houston papers about a bribery investigation at Houston Memorial.
“Hm, I wonder if that’s connected?” Lisa frowned at the laptop. “Should we send that to Deputy Knight?”
“Let him do his own investigation in his own sweet time.”
Lisa rolled her eyes. “Merry, be nice to the hot cop.”
“Fine. I’ll forward it. But he owes me.” She spent the next half hour cackling at her laptop, firing emails back and forth with Will.
Lisa sent her own batch of emails to her mother, father, stepmother, her ex-stepfather (her favorite of the bunch), and her stepsisters. All her emails said about the same thing. She was still having fun traveling around and didn’t yet know when she’d be back in Houston. She hadn’t told any of them the real story, just in case Senator Ruiz decided to question any of her family members.
Her friends in Jupiter Point knew more about her than her actual family did. Interesting.
The big excitement came the day both Lisa’s and Merry’s phones lit up with texts from Evie at the same moment.
Suzanne had her baby! It’s a girl, 8 pounds 2 ounces. Visitors welcome. Josh is a mess.
“Oh my God!” Merry squealed. They both slammed shut their laptops and dashed over to Josh and Suzanne’s house, which was filled with well-wishers and casseroles and baby gifts. Suzanne wasn’t quite ready to let her baby, Faith, be held by anyone else, but they did get to admire her tiny pink ears and button nose.
“Look at Team Cynic,” Suzanne teased the two of them. “You guys are looking a little mushy over there. Is that a tear I spy, Lisa?”
Setting Off Sparks (Jupiter Point Book 4) Page 15