Falling for Finn (16 page)

Anna pushed him, making him sit up. “Maybe I’m still a little afraid,” she admitted. And it wasn’t a lie.

“What can I do?”

Something in her chest tightened a little at the simple, bare question. “Maybe if I could be in control. Maybe that would help.”

Finn let out a shaky sounding breath. “Is that all? You should have said right away.” He shifted away from her then rolled onto his back. “I’m all yours, beautiful.”

The tight feeling in her chest constricted even more. No questions asked. No explanations demanded. He just gave himself to her.

She reached out, ran a hand down the smooth velvet of his skin, trailing fingertips over the dip and hollows of his chest and abdomen. All power. All grace. All hers.

He shivered. “Hurry, Green Eyes.”

Anna let her hand move down to the buttons of his jeans. Yes, this was how she needed to do it. This way she could control the intensity. Control the level of sensation. Keep it all manageable. All within acceptable levels.

“Okay,” she whispered into the darkness. “I’ll hurry.”

Finn knew he should be asking her more questions. Such as why the hell, after three weeks of silence, she’d suddenly turned up here in his apartment. Why she suddenly wanted to give him what he’d demanded back in his office.

But part of him was loath to ask those questions, especially when he wasn’t sure of the answers. And most especially now she had her hand on his cock.

He’d been in the shower when he’d heard the hammering on his door, urgent and panicked, so he’d hardly bothered drying himself, only stopping to haul on his jeans. He hadn’t bothered with underwear, and now Anna knew that too.

Her fingers were cool on his hot skin, and he cursed as they tightened around him. So many questions. All of them unimportant. Her thumb slowly circled the head of his cock, gentle and yet with enough pressure to make him groan. “Anna…” Her fingers moved again, squeezing, and fireworks just about went off in his head.

It had been so long without her. So fucking long. And now she was here, at last, in his bed. Where he’d always wanted her be. Where she belonged.

He wanted to push her down beneath him, naked and hot and wet for him. Take her hard. Then slow. Take her so she screamed in his arms. Close the distance. Make the connection.

But she’d asked for control and so he’d give it to her. Plenty of time for what he wanted later.

Her hands began to pull his jeans down and he helped her, lifting his hips so she could get them off. And when he lay naked, he liked the way she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off him. Liked the hesitant little touches she gave him. Especially liked the way her hands shook.

“Your turn now, Green Eyes,” he whispered and pushed himself up, wanting to help.

But she shook her head. “I’ll do it.”

He began to protest, but she stopped him with a finger on his mouth. “Please, Finn. I have to do it myself.”

He couldn’t refuse her. So he made himself sit there, hard and aching for her as she turned away from him, getting rid of her jeans. A bar of light speared through a gap in the curtains, coming from the streetlights outside, shining over her pale skin. So smooth. It illuminated the soft, vulnerable nape of her neck as she bent to remove her underwear. Dark hair brushing white skin, the pale curve of her spine beneath.

Unable to help himself, Finn put a hand on the back of her neck, the touch of her skin sending whispers of electricity through him. Then he let his fingers trail lightly down her back.

She went still.

He frowned. “You don’t want me to touch you?”

A small pause. “Not yet.” Her voice sounded tense. Then she added, in a slightly different tone, “Just lie there and think of England.”

Slightly puzzled, Finn nevertheless did what he was told. Hell, who was he to complain? Finally, he was getting what he’d wanted. What he’d dreamed about for so long. Anna in his bed and staying there.

He lay back against the white duvet cover, watching her as she eventually turned around.

“Hello, Snow White,” he murmured.
 

She rolled her eyes. “My hair is brown, idiot.”

“Yeah, but it looks black now. And you have white skin. Red mouth. Beautiful green eyes.”

“You’re obsessed.”

“With your eyes? Guilty.” And then, noticing the expression on her face. “What’s wrong?”

Her jaw tightened a little. “Condoms?”

“Ah. Bedside table. Left drawer.”

She found them easily, picking out a packet and ripping it open.

“You’re keen, I see.”

“No point wasting time, is there?” She leaned over him, rolling the latex down on him with a quick movement.

His breath caught as her hand touched his already rock-hard cock. “Foreplay is wasting time?”

Even in the darkness of the room, he could see her blush. “No. I just…” She paused, her hand still on him, her head bent, her hair veiling her expression. Then she looked at him. “This is still new, Finn, and I need to do it my way. Just for a bit. Okay?”

Vulnerability in the look she gave him. Something that made his throat close. “Okay. Whenever you’re ready.”

Her lovely mouth lost its tight look. “I’m ready now.”

She rose above him, straddling him, gripping him. Then she slid down onto his cock with one graceful undulation of her hips, and his mind ceased to function. Tight, wet heat surrounded him, the feel of her so good he groaned aloud. Her hands came down on his chest and she began to move, slow and a little hesitant.

It was agonizing. Not enough. Not nearly enough.

He fought the urge to grab her, drive hard into her, wanting to give her this, but his need for her began to pound in his head like the heartbeat of some huge animal. Slow and relentless.

She didn’t look at him, her head bent, dark curtains of hair falling over her face, hiding her expression. She began to move faster on him, her breathing coming in little pants, her movements oddly jerky.

Finn put his hands on her hips, wanting to move her with him, wanting some kind of contact because somehow this didn’t feel right. “Look at me, Anna.”

A softly indrawn breath. “Finn, no.” And she knocked his hands away.

“What do you mean, no?”

Her chin came up, her eyes gone dark in her pale face. He couldn’t read the expression in them. “My way, remember?”

How could he protest? He couldn’t. Not without shattering the moment. A moment that felt on the brink of shattering already.

Slowly, he put his hands palms down on the sheet, away from her. “Your way,” he whispered. “For now.”

The subtle tension in her body seemed to ebb. She nodded and then slowly, slowly she began to move again.

He lay back, curling his fingers in the sheets, holding on as she moved on him, the slide of his cock in her sex making him grit his teeth. The physical pleasure unbelievable and yet, and yet…

Something was missing.

Finn watched her as she moved, her head bent, the heat of her palms on his chest like twin beams of sunlight. He couldn’t see her face. Couldn’t see her eyes. As if she was shutting him out.

“Anna,” he began.

But the words died in his throat as she leaned forward suddenly, pressing her mouth to his throat, the softness of her breasts against his chest, silky strands of hair on his skin. His mind went blank, need and desire and desperation overwhelming him.

Forgetting everything except the need to hold her close, he put his arms around her, holding her tightly as she kissed his neck, his shoulder, the roughness of her tongue against his skin. Pleasure rocketed through him, building up, pushing him to the edge.

He said her name in a low, raw voice, tangling his fingers in her hair, wanting to look into her face, look into her eyes. But somehow she twisted out of his grip and then he forgot even that as desire engulfed him. He grabbed her hips, arched his back, driving himself up into her. Holding tight as light exploded behind his eyes and the orgasm wrenched him apart.

For long minutes afterwards he just lay there, trying to get his sense of self back together again.

Then he felt Anna move, lifting herself off him. He reached for her but she avoided his grasp. “Bathroom,” she murmured, and before he could speak, she’d slipped off the bed and out of the room.

Not again
.

Slowly, Finn sat up, still trying to get his breathing under control, staring at the doorway. A cold, empty feeling began to wind through him.

He wanted to hold her. Ached for it. And yet she’d avoided him. What the hell was going on?

She’d told him she’d come here to give him what he wanted, and he’d thought that was everything.

Then again, when he’d held her in his arms, he hadn’t actually been doing too much in the way of thinking. Precisely zero thinking in actual fact. All he’d been conscious of was that finally she was here, after so long away from him, giving him what he wanted.

But what had just happened wasn’t what he wanted.

She’d sat on him, getting him off like it had been some kind of chore. She hadn’t even looked at him. Not once.

I need to do it my way.

What the fuck way was that?

He wanted that intensity, that connection that afternoon he’d made love to her on his couch. Wanted to look into her eyes and see her soul. Her heart. See her feel it like he did.

Because she had felt it, he knew she had. But now? Now she’d run away.

Just like she always did.

Finn pushed himself off the bed.

To hell with that.

Chapter Eleven

Anna bent down and picked up the discarded T-shirt that lay on the floor of the bathroom. She must have arrived while he’d been in the shower because he wasn’t normally untidy enough to leave his clothes on the floor.

She shrugged into it, feeling a little better as the dark-blue cotton covered her. Feeling less exposed was always good. The shirt smelled of him, and for a moment she allowed herself to breathe him in, trying to ease the ache in her chest. Ease the sense she’d made a mistake.

Crossing to the basin, she splashed some water on her face. Anything to cool the heat inside her.

Her body ached. An insistent throb between her thighs. She hadn’t come, had brought him off instead. All intentional, of course. She hadn’t wanted him to touch her, hadn’t wanted to look into his eyes, hadn’t wanted anything that might spark that overwhelming intensity. Even at the expense of her own pleasure.

She’d hoped he’d be good with that. Hoped she’d be happy too. But she wasn’t. All she felt was the dull ache of disappointment. Emptiness. Dissatisfaction.

And she knew he’d felt it too because she’d caught a glimpse of his expression as she’d left the room. Seen the shock on it.

For a second she covered her face with her hands, unable to bear it. This wasn’t what she’d intended. She’d wanted hot, fun sex. Nothing too emotional. Nothing too intense. And yet what she’d got was…nothing. Like she’d reached for what she thought was gold and came away with a handful of gravel.

But what else could she do? Gravel was all she felt equipped to deal with right now.

After a moment, Anna dropped her hands from her face and took a step out of the bathroom. No sound came from the bedroom on her left, and suddenly she couldn’t face him. Turning right instead, she padded down the hallway and out into the lounge, going over to the open-plan kitchen in one corner to get herself a glass of water.

“Are you going to tell me what that was all about?”

Slowly, Anna put the glass down on the bench and turned around.

Finn stood behind her, leaning one hip against the wooden breakfast bar, magnificently, gloriously naked.

She couldn’t take her eyes off him. “What was what about?”

“No,” he said with absolute certainty. “You don’t get to do this anymore, Anna Jameson. You don’t get to come here and tell me you’re going to ‘give me what I want’, use me like some kind of fucking vibrator, then vanish from my bed like you can’t wait to leave.”

She stared at him and noticed, at last, the fury in his eyes. In his whole posture. It burned off him in waves, like heat off a baking road. And he had a right to it.

She had used him. Used him to get what she wanted—him back in her life.

Oh yeah, she could tell herself that’s what he’d asked for, but that would be disingenuous. They both knew he’d wanted more than that.

I want your fucking soul.

And that was the one thing she couldn’t give him. Didn’t want to give him. Because she was too damn afraid it would blow up in her face and leave her with nothing left for herself.

Fighting a creeping sense of shame, Anna had only defensive anger to fall back on. “Okay, if we’re going to play that game, you don’t get to trade our friendship away just because I can’t give you the sex you want.”

“So that’s what you came here to give me. Sex.”

Her jaw tightened. “I told you that’s all it was.”