Authors: Jackie Ashenden
Her jaw tightened. She wouldn’t choose him. He understood that. And, sure enough, she didn’t.
Finn made no move to stop her as she left, but as she went past he murmured, “I’ll wait, Anna. Because you’re worth the risk. But I won’t wait forever.”
Chapter Ten
Anna changed the channel only to find another Bruce Lee movie. What was this? Kung fu night on TV or something? She didn’t want to watch Bruce Lee. Martial arts movies sucked.
Nothing to do with Finn Shaw, of course.
No, of course it had nothing to do with him. Nothing at all.
She channel-surfed a bit more and found herself staring as a familiar face appeared on her screen.
An old episode of
Wild Life
, Finn down in the South Island, in Wanaka, snowboarding at the Cardrona ski field. She’d gone down there with him, taking advantage of the free trip, spending most of the time sipping coffee in the cafés while he’d been up on the ski fields, filming his show. She’d given in to his relentless insistence that she come up to the field for a day once, allowing him to talk her into giving snowboarding another go. For one whole morning she’d persevered. Then, her bum wet, her legs like cooked noodles, she’d given up in disgust and gone to see him on the half-pipe instead.
She’d spent the rest of the day just watching him because he’d been magnificent. Like somewhere, somehow, he’d discovered the secret of flight and used it to create the most incredible series of flips, turns and tricks. Crowds had gathered to look, all with their hearts in their mouths as he pulled off stunt after seemingly impossible stunt.
Anna saw it all again on the screen—Finn in his element. And then, at the end, pulling up to the camera with a flourish, tugging off his ski goggles, dark eyes alight, a smile like the sun, excitement and energy pouring off him, so charismatic.
She hadn’t seen him for three weeks. And she didn’t miss him. Not in the slightest.
She picked up the remote but couldn’t seem to press the button.
Finn’s voice filled the room, the sound of his laughter wrapping itself around her.
No, she didn’t miss him. She didn’t.
Because he’d been the one who’d ruined it between them. He’d been the one with the ultimatum. With the all or nothing choice.
So she’d chosen nothing. And he’d forced that on her. He had. It wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t.
It’s always about you, Anna. Always about you.
Anna swore, stabbing the button on the remote. Finn’s voice died into silence, his beautiful face vanishing.
Rain drummed on the roof, the flat falling into darkness.
She swallowed, grabbed a cushion and buried her face in it.
Oh shit. Who was she kidding? The past three weeks had been torture and she didn’t understand why. For six months she’d managed to cut him out of her life—it shouldn’t be so hard now. And yet it was. She’d been grabbing her phone half a dozen times a day, ready to text him or phone him, or make plans for dinner or for a movie, automatically including him.
And then she’d remember. It made her so angry. It hurt her so much.
She missed him. She ached for him. For his smile. His laugh. His warm presence in her life. The hugs he gave her. The way she could just talk crap to him, and he would listen and talk crap back at her. The understanding he provided.
This was ridiculous. Surely she could fix this?
Slowly, she lifted her head from the cushion.
Yes, she could fix it. Had to. All it required was a little thought.
Anna pushed aside the cushion, suddenly galvanized, and got to her feet. She paced over to the window and back.
He’d told her what he wanted—her. Her or nothing. Would giving him that really be so dreadful? Things between them had gone too far to go back to the way they’d been before, that was certain. And he’d been more than clear—if she wanted to be part of his life, she’d have to give him what he wanted. Which meant crossing that line. Taking a step beyond their friendship. A step she’d already taken once.
Being in his bed every night. Waking in his arms every morning…
A weird thrill went through her. The same kind of thrill as when she’d made that first, fateful decision to sleep with him.
She could do it, couldn’t she? She could give him that? And hey, it wasn’t like it was a trial having to sleep with him. He’d been a good lover. An exceptional lover.
Are you sure you want to do this? Remember that intensity…
Anna swallowed. Yeah, that had scared her. She didn’t want to feel that way about him. Didn’t want to feel that way about anyone. It wasn’t comfortable or safe. She’d seen her parents and their passionate shouting matches. The violence of their feelings had always shocked her, made her feel so unsafe. They’d stayed together until she’d left school and then they’d divorced—another messy, ugly fight that had dragged on for months. That kind of relationship had never been anything she’d wanted for herself.
But maybe the intensity she’d experienced with Finn had been a one-off thing, all bound up in the fear and the unfamiliarity and the newness of it. Maybe it wouldn’t be like that again. Especially if she held back a little, kept herself separate. That way she could give him what he wanted, the sex part, and they’d both still have the friendship part. Wouldn’t that be enough?
A small voice inside her whispered that it wouldn’t be, but Anna pushed it aside. She had her solution. It was time to put it into practice.
Grabbing her bag, she left her apartment.
Outside the darkness pressed close, the rain pouring down. A reflexive fear grabbed her, but she didn’t stop. Wouldn’t let that prevent her from going where she needed to go.
It was relatively late at night and the roads were empty, so it only took her ten minutes to get to Finn’s. But as she parked, she noticed a crowd of rather drunk-looking men coming out from the bar just along the street. They didn’t seem to care about the rain, catcalling to people passing by, especially if they were female.
Fear, hated and unwelcome, gripped Anna by the throat. She waited for a while, hoping the men would move on, but they didn’t seem to be in any hurry, despite the fact it was raining. Eventually, cursing under her breath, Anna knew she’d just have to make a move. Otherwise she’d be stuck in the car all night.
Of course, they noticed her. And of course, they called out to her. And as if they could smell her fear, as if it excited them, they began coming after her.
A year ago, she would have ignored them. Possibly she’d even have laughed at them. But not now. Now she felt like a rabbit pursued by a pack of wolves.
Her heart thudded in her chest, adrenaline swamping her as she ran to Finn’s door. The rain fell on her in icy spears, and the drunken taunts of the men, getting closer and closer, made her go cold.
She put a shaking finger on the button of Finn’s doorbell.
A minute passed and nothing happened. Oh God, what if he wasn’t home?
“Hey gorgeous? Wanna have a drink?” They sounded closer. “Don’t be like that. Come on.”
Anna didn’t bother to turn. She pressed the doorbell again and then, when she heard nothing, she hammered on the door, fear like an animal inside her chest clawing to get out.
Her clothes began to get soaked, sticking to her, making her feel colder and colder.
He wasn’t there. And now she trembled in the dark by herself with a pack of drunken men.
But all of a sudden the door abruptly swung open and Finn stood on the threshold, his blond hair in messy, damp spikes, wearing only a pair of dark, low-slung jeans and nothing else. His skin glistened in the light from his apartment like he’d just come from the shower.
She’d never seen anything so beautiful in all her life.
“Finn,” she croaked hoarsely.
He frowned. “What are you doing here?”
“T-there’s some guys outside,” she stammered like a fool. “They came after me. I thought you weren’t here. I thought I was outside alone.”
“Some guys? Where?” His voice held an edge of threat, and he began to stalk toward her, clearly intending to go outside and deal some damage if need be.
But she didn’t need him to do that. It was enough to be here, in his apartment with him. She didn’t need him risking himself over a bunch of stupid drunks.
Anna put a hand on his chest. “It’s okay. They’re not important right now.” Perhaps one day she’d learn karate or something, go back and kick their asses. But today she had Finn and that was enough.
He’d stopped dead in his tracks, looking at her. And the realization of her palm on his damp, warm, bare skin pierced her. He felt so hot, the soap and familiar Finn-scent of him all around her, his heart beating strong and sure beneath her hand.
Desire opened up inside her. Desire and relief and longing.
“Anna.” His voice had gone rough, gravel and velvet.
She looked up at him. His face had a set expression to it, but the look in his eyes burned her like an open flame.
“What are you doing here?”
She swallowed, her mouth gone suddenly dry. “I missed you. I hate not having you in my life.” Slowly and with some deliberation, she spread her hand out on his skin, feeling the hard muscles beneath tense, hearing the sharp hiss of his indrawn breath. “I’ve thought about what you told me you wanted and…and I want to give it to you.”
His eyes widened and for a long moment he didn’t move, just staring down at her. “Give me what?”
Anna didn’t answer, rising up on her toes and brushing her mouth against his. He tensed even further, his whole body going rigid. She moved her hand up his chest, over the powerful contours of his shoulders, sliding it around his neck, her fingers in the thick, damp silk of his hair. She opened her mouth beneath his, let her tongue explore the lower line of his lip, tasting him.
A shudder went through him. And then all the rigidity melted out of him. An arm slid around her waist, holding her against him, his bare skin hot against her rain-soaked clothes.
The door slammed behind her and then a hand tangled in her wet hair. “Anna.” Her name soft and thick against her mouth. “Wait.”
But she didn’t want to wait. She pressed closer to him, not wanting to let him go, absorbing the feel of him, the warmth of him, like a plant absorbs sunlight. For three weeks she’d been apart from him, and suddenly the only thing she wanted was to get as close as possible.
She began to kiss him deeper, no thought in her head but to taste as much of him as she could. Fill up the terrible, empty, Finn-shaped space inside her.
His fingers tightened on the back of her head. “Anna.” Her name a soft groan.
She breathed in his scent, kissed his jaw and down further, where his pulse beat fast in the hollow of his throat. Sex and friendship. Yes, she could do this. She
wanted
this.
He cursed, low and soft, pulling her head back. And then his mouth was on hers, hungry and desperate and hot.
Anna sighed, her arms winding around his neck, arching her body into his, returning his kiss with her own, just as hot and just as hungry.
Hours or maybe minutes later, Finn lifted his head. His eyes were black in the light of his apartment, the high, sharply cut lines of his cheekbones flushed. “You better be sure about this, Green Eyes. Because there’s no going back.”
There had been no going back the moment she’d come to his apartment a month ago, but then they both knew that.
“I know,” she whispered. “Stop talking already.”
Finn stopped talking, lifting her up in his arms and taking her into the bedroom instead.
She’d been in his bedroom many times. Had sat on his bed teasing him when he’d been getting ready for a date. Gone in to wake him up the times she’d stayed over and he’d slept in. Once she’d even slept in his bed when she’d been sick and he’d been looking after her.
But she’d never been placed gently on his bed the way he placed her on it now, never had him cover her with his body, lean hips spreading her thighs, his weight pressing down onto her, his hands on hers, palms together, their fingers interlaced.
A panting, desperate kiss. And then his hands were on her body, pulling away her soaking clothes. Her T-shirt off over her head, her bra gone. His hot mouth closing around one cold nipple.
Sensation exploded like a bomb through her, her body arching, a soundless scream in her throat.
Oh Jesus. Too much. Too much. Too much.
Anna pushed him away, gasping. Her whole body trembled, shivering from the effect of his mouth on her, her heart thumping in her chest.
“Anna?” He stared down at her. Even in the darkness of the room she could see the shock on his face. “What did I do?” And then, dark brows descended. “Did I scare you?”
She didn’t know what he meant at first. And then remembered—the attack. He thought this was like the first time.
“No.” She took a shuddering breath. “It’s okay. Really. I’m just cold and you’re…hot.”
But he didn’t stop frowning. “Are you sure?”
Crap. How would she get through this? She hadn’t expected it to be like this again. She didn’t want it. Somehow she had to bring it down a notch, dull the intensity. And the only way that would work would be if she had the control.