Finn Beckett

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Finn Beckett Page 12

by Mj Fields


  Immediately, I know what he is thinking.

  “Finn, don’t do that.”

  “Didn’t mean it, Sonya.”

  “No, don’t walk on egg shells around me. I knew what you were saying. I didn’t take offense to it, okay? Just please don’t treat me any differently.”

  “I promise I will try my best; that’s all I can do.” His brows furrow, and he looks down. “I can also dye the hell out of your hair, so how about you just have a seat and let me take it from here?” He keeps working his magic fingers on my scalp. “Okay, you’re gonna stand here, and I’m grabbing a chair. I think I got this.”

  I sit in the chair he drags into the bathroom and watch him rub my hair in the mirror. I can’t let him do it all, so I work on the roots, making sure I get them covered.

  “Feel good?” he asks after a while.

  “Very. Thank you.”

  “Any other horrible thing you want to put me through, I think I can handle.” He smiles.

  “Is this horrible?”

  “My hands are on you, so no, not horrible.”

  I smile up at him. “Good.”

  After a few minutes, I yawn, and he chuckles.

  “Tiring you out?”

  “It’s relaxing. Very nice. I never expected it to be.”

  He walks around in front of me and squirts the rest of the solution in his gloved hand before rubbing it into the front section of my hair. Then he steps back and looks at me before turning around and grabbing the pamphlet, starting to read.

  “You know this has to set for twenty minutes?”

  “Mm-hmm,” I say as he takes the comb and walks toward me.

  “It says to comb through. You want me to?”

  “Please.”

  As I brush through her hair, it’s hard not to think about the fucking video of her being stabbed in the abdomen and hit in the back of the head so hard she fell to the ground face first.

  I don’t know how she survived it. It is unbelievable that she pushed herself up off the pavement, let alone to her feet, and tried to get to her home’s security gate, until he turned around and noticed, striking her again with much more force.

  Sonya is so strong, stronger than I ever was.

  I look at her in the mirror as I brush her hair. The color she chose is her natural shade—deep brown and beautiful.

  “I think that’s good,” she says, stopping me.

  “What’s next?”

  “The sexy part—the cap and wrap.”

  I try to keep the mood light; seems to be what she wants. I will give it to her. Hell, I would give her anything.

  “There you go again. Wrapping shit.”

  She smiles and giggles.

  So fucking happy.

  “I like that smile, Sonya.”

  She looks in the mirror and nods. “Me, too.” Then she looks up at me. “I like yours better.”

  “I like the color.”

  “You haven’t even seen it yet,” she says as she looks at me in the mirror, then grabs some Saran Wrap-looking thing and puts it in her head. “I like yours better.”

  “Oh, shit, I hoped you’d notice.” I tug at the back of the plastic wrap now on her head. “How long do I get to look at this?”

  “Twenty minutes.”

  “Twenty minutes, and you decided at nine o’clock at night that this would be what, a great time to change your look?” I ask, taking her hand and pulling her toward the door behind me.

  “No.” She looks at me as if questioning her response.

  “Why the look?”

  “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

  I cringe inwardly. “Whatever you want.”

  “You don’t want to talk about the past. I respect that,” she says as she sits down on the edge of the bed.

  “I appreciate that, but if you need to, go ahead. I just don’t want to revisit mine.”

  I look around, not knowing if I should sit or stand. Fuck, I am no good at this shit.

  She senses it and pats the spot next to her. “I just want me back. It’s been almost five years, and—” She stops again.

  “Go on,” I tell her as I sit.

  “I hid for a long time. Then this opportunity came up, and I had to force myself to make a decision to either stay behind the safety of the gate or step outside of it.”

  “I don’t understand,” I say honestly.

  “Well, everything changed,” she says, blowing out a breath. I don’t know if it’s in frustration or an internal release. “I was sixteen, my mother was in jail, and I had no one. As a result, the State sent me to a home for a week until my aunt came forward and offered to take care of me.” She stops and looks at me. “I stayed with the White family.”

  “Sally and Robert White?” I ask, thinking there is no way I could be right.

  She nods, still looking at me.

  “How long ago?”

  “Five years.”

  “I know them.”

  She opens her eyes. “I know.”

  “You know … what?” I hate the anxiety that rises inside me.

  “I saw pictures. They have pictures everywhere. You look the same now except for the facial hair.”

  “Did they talk about me and”—I pause, not sure what she knows—“my time there?”

  “I was only there for a week. I was waiting for my aunt to get there so I could go home.”

  “Of course.” I rub her hand.

  She looks at me. “I saw pictures of you and thought you were the most beautiful boy I had ever seen.”

  “Thank you.”

  “They left me alone—well, most of the time. Sally used to come in the room and watch me sleep and sometimes read the Bible to me.” She smiles. “And she brought me food. A lot of food.”

  “She liked to cook,” I say as I look down, reflecting on my time at the same fucking place.

  “Yeah,” she says, looking down, too.

  “You thought I was beautiful? Never heard that one before,” I try to joke.

  “I still think so,” she whispers.

  “Go on.” I rub my thumb across her knuckles.

  “When I came home, everything changed.”

  “I’m sorry. I really am.”

  She stops and looks up at me like she’s trying to figure something out again. I hate that shit. It makes me feel like she sees me as weak. I’m not weak. She doesn’t know that, though. I haven’t shown her that.

  “He’s beautiful,” she finally says, pulling the subject back to her son.

  “So is his mother.”

  “He’s been through a lot, you know.”

  “So has his mom.”

  “Yeah.” She looks down. “Yeah, and I need to be a better mom. Stronger.” She looks at me. “I bet you’re wondering how I got this job.”

  “From the moment I saw you chasing Tales.”

  She shakes her head. “I didn’t know what was on that card.”

  “In the past, Sonya.”

  She looks at me funny. “When did the present start?”

  “At the beach, when I knew you didn’t want to kill me.”

  She giggles. “You seriously thought I would kill you?”

  “I still think you could.”

  Her smile drops, and she shakes her head. “Never.”

  “No?” I ask, leaning in, and she meets me halfway. “Good.” I lift her chin. “I really don’t give a damn how you got this job right now, Sonya, but if you want to tell me, feel free.”

  “Um …”

  “Maybe later?” I press my lips against hers, and hers press hard against mine. “Nothing ever tasted so good.”

  I rub my lips back and forth against hers then lick across them. Her mouth opens to me, and I am all in. I taste her; she tastes me back. I pull the back of her neck toward me, and the fucking cap crunches, making her laugh into my mouth.

  I capture her bottom lip between my teeth and bite down lightly, pulling her toward me. “That thing needs to go.”
/>   “Uh-huh,” she says, coming toward me again.

  “Uh-huh,” I mimic, moving left and kissing her cheekbone. “How long before I can be inside of you with nothing between us?”

  “Now,” she moans.

  “Hmm,” I say as I kiss lower down her throat, untying the belt around her robe.

  The alarm goes off on her phone, and her lips purse out in a pout.

  “I need to get rid of this cap.”

  “Perfect. Let’s get it done.” I stand up and hold out my hand, which she takes, and then I pull her up.

  “I can do it.”

  “I think I would like to. You made these little noises when I was—” I pause. “Man, you better never tell anyone that shit.”

  “We’re a secret. I couldn’t tell anyone if I wanted to.” She walks ahead of me, still holding my hand.

  “We’re a secret because …?”

  She shrugs. “My job.”

  “Oh, yes, that’s right.”

  She takes the plastic cap off her head, starts the water, and then bends over the sink. I watch as she rinses it with her hands.

  “Let me help.” I grab the plastic cup and fill it with water before dumping it over her head as she works her long, thin fingers through the hair I desperately want in my hands.

  “I think it’s good,” she says as she backs up, squeezing the excess water out of her hair.

  She grabs the towel next to the sink and dries her hair. When she seems satisfied, she reaches for the brush, but I grab it first. I start in the back and run it through until the brush goes through without a snag.

  “Turn around,” I say, and she does. I then lean down and kiss her quickly before lifting her and setting her on the counter. “Looks amazing. Why don’t you go to a salon? Wouldn’t it be easier?”

  “I’m not a fan of going out, remember?”

  “I’m glad you aren’t.”

  “Right, because instead of doing what you came for, you got to be part of my crazy.”

  “I actually enjoyed having my hands in your hair, Sonya. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to find this little beauty mark behind your ear that I need to take a taste of.” I push her hair to the side and turn her chin. “It’s right here,” I whisper as I kiss it.

  Kissing it isn’t enough, though. I want my mouth on it, over it.

  I caress it with my tongue, her taste, her scent, the warmth of her skin mixing together, causing me to get lost.

  “Lips,” she pants.

  “We’ll get there,” I say as I cup her perfect, little handful of breast.

  I step back and pull the bathrobe slowly down her left shoulder, then bend and kiss my way down as I pull her arm from the sleeve. Each inch of skin I touch breaks out in goose bumps, and the strain of my cock against denim is nearly too much, but I am going to take my time. I want to taste her slowly, teasing myself and her.

  I take her hand and lift my shirt. Then I hold her hand on my abs. “Don’t move it.”

  “I won’t,” she whispers.

  Once I pull my shirt over my head and toss it to the side, her fingers start to dance against my skin.

  “You’re moving.”

  “I can’t help myself,” she whispers as her finger slides back and forth under my waistband.

  I kiss down her right arm, taking the robe off and letting it fall back on the counter as I go. “Then, by all means, take what you want.”

  She unbuttons my jeans as she bites her lip, and the relief I feel as each button comes undone is nearly orgasmic.

  “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

  Her hand trembles, and I love it. I love driving her insane with want for me.

  “Thinking about your mouth”—I rub my thumb across her lips—“about your perfect handful of the most delicious tits I have ever tasted.”

  Her eyes pop up and meet mine. “You’ve seen a lot.”

  “Yeah, but I can honestly say I can’t remember one of them, but yours, I remember.” I run my thumbs across her nipples as she struggles with the next button. “I can close my eyes and see your perfectly pink, little nipples and how they peak and get so hard for me.”

  She grows frustrated and grumbles right before shoving her hand down my pants and pulling me free.

  “It’s magnificent,” she says as she strokes me.

  “Magnificent, huh?” I grab her ass and pull her to the end of the counter.

  “Yes,” she pants as she pulls me toward her and rubs the head of my cock against her hot, wet slit.

  “Sweetest pussy I’ve even tasted, Sonya. It’s becoming an addiction.”

  “There are worse things.” She pulls me closer and moans as she rubs me harder against her.

  Her legs wrap around me while I cup her ass.

  “You got it where you want it?”

  “Yes,” she whimpers as I push in slowly.

  “Gotta go slow,” I groan. “It’s been years, Sonya—years since I needed it like this. I fucking need you bad. I want to feel how wet your tight, little pussy is for me. I want to feel your come slick my cock.”

  “Yes.” She pushes slowly against me, her eyes rolling back.

  “Hands behind your back on the counter. Hold yourself up. I’m gonna fuck you so good, Sonya. Tell me you want that. Tell me you crave my cock inside you. Fuck …” I hiss when she contracts around me.

  “I think I’m gonna—”

  “I fucking know you are.” I swivel, hitting her from a different angle.

  She cries out as her head falls back, and I lean forward to get my mouth on her neck.

  It’s ridiculous how badly I need my mouth on her. Insane how good she tastes. Crazy how badly I want to be inside her, near her. I fucking hate it and need it at the same damn time.

  I rock into her almost fully, and she whimpers as her head lifts. Her eyes show me all I need to know—she’s right there with me. She’s just as hot for me as I am for her.

  I thrust in, and her shoulders press against the mirror as she takes me. Then I feel her pussy contract and nearly lose it myself. I still and lift her up, not wanting her to bang against the mirror when I lose control.

  I thrust in again, the feeling better than I ever remember as my cock rolls across the wet, velvety skin inside her.

  “Feels so good,” I say, clutching onto her as my mouth opens and makes its way to her neck again.

  “Yes, so good. So—” She gasps when I lift her up and take her tit in my mouth as I thrust into her. She gives it right back, holding me as she bounces up and down on my cock until she cries out and bites my shoulder.

  Her muscles ripple against my cock, her warmth increases, and she is wetter than before. I take advantage, pounding into her as she cries out my name again.

  I’m on the edge again, so ready to fill her up with my come, but I want to stay this fucking way.

  “Lips,” I grunt, and she gives ’em to me without hesitation.

  I kiss her as I knead away at the hottest little ass in the world. I then walk out of the bathroom and sit on the edge of the bed, keeping her wrapped around me. Her hips rotate as she runs her hands through my hair, licking deep inside my mouth.

  I lie back and roll over, still buried in her. Then I take her hands from my hair and hold them high above her head as I kiss her mouth, cheek, jaw, neck, and shoulders. Holding myself over her, my hand restraining hers, I begin to rock again.

  “Rock with me, baby.”

  “Yes,” she whimpers. “So good.”

  “Yeah. Hell, yeah.” The burn intensifies. “I’m gonna come.” I thrust faster and harder, her hips meeting mine, my balls slapping against her hot ass over and over.

  “Oh, God,” she cries, and I can’t take it anymore.

  My cock jerks, her pussy pulsates, and then I twitch and fire off inside of her again and again.

  “Fuck!” I roar as I crash down on her, still coming.

  Afterward, I roll to my back, bringing her with me. “Damn.”

  “
Damn,” she says, wrapping around me tighter.

  We stay that way, apparently falling asleep. When I wake up, I am still inside her and a bit sticky. I watch her, still clinging to me, one hand in my hair, the other on my abs, her head on my chest.

  The curve of her naked breast has me getting worked up again. I feel the blood flowing to my cock, making it grow inside of her. I have never had that happen, and it’s another thing I would make damn sure happened again. Waking up inside her is heaven.

  I briefly allow myself to think about what will happen in October when the tour is over. Will she go back to Ohio?

  She sighs as if she is subconsciously dreading the thought of that, too. Her eyes begin to flutter, and she finally opens her eyes.

  “Hi.”

  I nudge her. “Best high there is.”

  “Oh … wow… your—”

  “Gonna have to have you again before you kick me out of here so you can get some sleep.”

  When I press my lips to hers and roll us so she’s on her back again, her legs fall apart without prompting as she stretches around my growing erection.

  “I want you wet and hot,” I tell her as I bow down and grab one of her breasts in my mouth and nip at her nipple before pulling it.

  “I’m there,” she moans, her hands in my hair again.

  ***

  We are sitting around the table in Memphis and Tally’s room when she walks in, and I nearly fucking explode in my pants.

  She’s wearing a white, flowing sundress; a pair of brown cowgirl boots; a denim jacket; and her hair is fucking gorgeous. Soft curls I want in my hands are flowing down, not in a tight-ass bun.

  A whistle comes out loud and clear.

  “Hot damn, who is the new girl?” River lays it on thick.

  I grip the side of my chair so I don’t come out of it and avoid looking at him. Then I see Billy who has the no-shit look on his face. Even Memphis looks at Tally, and I know it’s to avoid giving Sonya the same fuck me eyes they all are.

  “You look freaking stunning,” Tally says as she stands up, gives her a hug, and then goes to pour her a cup of coffee.

  “Have a seat.” Nick pats the seat next to his.

  “This one’s free, too,” I say, kicking out the chair next to me.

 

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