Falling for Finn (10 page)

A shiver went through her. “Finn.”

He’d wanted to go slow. But right now he wasn’t sure if he could. “The safe word, Anna. You know it, right?”

“Yes.”

“You want to say it now?”

She was trembling but she shook her head.

And he couldn’t wait. He gripped her thighs, then thrust deep and hard inside her.

 
Anna cried out as he pushed into her, a shockingly raw sound but she couldn’t stop it. The feel of him was almost too much. He was so big, stretching sensitive tissues that could barely cope with another overload of sensation. She bit down on her lip, struggling to handle it. To handle him. Her thighs were trembling. Everything was trembling.

She looked up at him. His head was tilted back, jaw tight, a ray of sunlight turning his hair bright gold, following the sharp contours of his chest and stomach, highlighting the deep, tawny color of his skin. He had his eyes closed, the muscles of his arms locked rigid on either side of her. Struggling to hold himself back.

He was beautiful. Too beautiful.

Her heart twisted strangely inside her chest. No, she should not feel this. Not about him. He was her friend.

A friend who moved, hands gripping her hips, lifting her a little so he could slide deeper into her.

Another groan tore from her throat, her body stretched unbearably. God.
 
Too much to handle. She’d break. Fall apart. Something.

Finn leaned forward, one hand gripping the back of the couch, the other the arm. Holding on. And then he began to move inside her, slow and steady and deep.

Chills broke over her. Then came heat. A thousand different physical feelings and all of them overwhelming.

She gasped, her hands clutching at the leather of the seat beneath her. She couldn’t seem to think. Couldn’t seem to breathe. He was everywhere, all around her, inside her. And with every breath she took him deeper. Into her lungs, into her body.

The panic of the attack faded utterly. The fear gone. Subsumed by the intensity of the present. The extreme physical pleasure. Nothing else in the entire world but Finn.

Her friend. And now her lover.

Anna began to pant, the slow rhythm he’d set building into something else. Faster. Even more intense.

He hooked his hand behind her right knee, peeled her leg from around one lean hip, then pushed it out and wide, letting him slide even deeper into her.

Another little scream tore from her as she arched beneath him.

Then, as if even this weren’t enough, he grabbed her hand, drew it between them, down to where they were joined. He leaned over her, his dark eyes inches from hers. “Feel me, Anna.” His voice was guttural. Finn the dark, dominant stranger. “Feel me inside you.”

And she did. The way she’d stretched to accommodate him. So easily. Naturally. The liquid heat. The exquisite push-pull of him. The spice and musk of his scent…

“Yes…” Someone else spoke. Someone else said the words in a voice so husky it didn’t sound like hers. “Oh my God. Finn…don’t stop…please…”

“Look at me, beautiful. Look at me. Stay with me.”

She hadn’t even realized she’d closed her eyes. And when she opened them, all she saw was him. The darkness of his eyes. And the hunger for her. As if she was his only reason to breathe.

Pressure built.
 
So intense. Like her skin was too tight. Pleasure on the edge of pain.

There was nothing to hold on to. Nothing to hold her down. Nothing except him. He was the one constant in her life. Always had been. So she lifted her hands to his shoulders, holding on to him, sliding her hands down his back, feeling the flex and release of his muscles as he moved.
 

“Anna,” he whispered, leaning right down close. “Oh God, Anna…”

Tension stretching. Winding tighter and tighter. She cried out with the agony, with the frustration of it.

Then he put his hand on her breast while the other stroked her clit. Once. Twice.

And the whole world exploded behind her eyes.

Anna screamed as the pleasure tore her apart, convulsing in his hands, shattering completely. Only aware of his arms around her, the sound of his own cry of release in her ears, and the inexplicable relief that soon this would be over, that they could go back to being friends.

Because she’d never survive anything more.

Finn fell forward, unable to stop himself from collapsing on top of her. She made a soft, protesting sound and he shifted, only just capable of moving so he didn’t completely crush her.

He closed his eyes, trying to regain his grip on reality. Because she’d just made him lose it. She’d been so wet. Tight. Hot. And the look in her eyes as she’d come apart in his arms, staring up at him in wonder. As if she couldn’t believe what had happened between them.

He couldn’t really believe it himself.

Never, in all his wildest fantasies, had he ever dreamed it would be so intense. That the pleasure of being inside her, of having her naked beneath him would be quite so mind-blowing. Or so perfect.

Because it had been perfect. As if, for the first time in all his fucked-up life, he’d got something right.

Anna moved again and he blinked, the scent of her hair, her skin, the musky scent of arousal and sex mixing together into something so erotic he could feel himself getting hard again.

Bracing a hand beside her head, he lifted himself up, looking down at her.

Her face flushed, hair sticking to her cheeks and forehead, eyes huge, her mouth swollen and red from his kisses. God, she was beautiful. So heartbreakingly beautiful.

“Are you okay?” His voice sounded cracked, like an ancient record being played with a broken needle.

Black lashes fluttered, green eyes avoiding his. “Yes. I’m fine.”

Doubt eased an icy finger under his skin. “Anna.”

But she moved yet again, and he felt himself slide free of her body. She twisted to the side, reaching for her discarded underwear.

“Anna? What’s going on?”

“Bathroom.” She didn’t look at him, slipping from the couch, pulling up her underwear. Quickly she crossed the room, bending to pick up her T-shirt and shrugging it on as she disappeared down the hallway.

Finn stared after her retreating figure as the finger of ice became a hand, closing around his heart.

What the fuck?

He cursed under his breath. Had he done something wrong? Had she not wanted this?

Finn…don’t stop…

The sound of her husky voice in his ear calmed the cold pouring through his veins. She had wanted it. She had. So what the hell was going on now?

He pushed himself off the couch, crossed to the kitchen to dispose of the condom, then reached for his jeans and pulled them on. He didn’t know what to do. Whether to go after her and demand she tell him just what her deal was, or stay here and pretend everything was fine.

But of course it wasn’t fine. And he’d always been shit at pretending.

He’d got halfway across the room by the time she came out. Giving him a wary look, she went past him to grab her own jeans, slipping into them before picking up her bra and stuffing it into her backpack.

“What the hell are you doing?” He couldn’t stop the question from coming out like a belligerent demand.

“What does it look like? I’m dressing.”

“And then leaving?”

She didn’t look at him, sitting down on the couch to put her sandals on. “It’ll be dark soon. I want to get home before then.”

Anger, bright and hot and violent, flooded through him. How dare she do this? How dare she give him this…this incredible, perfect experience, and then leave him without a glance? As if it meant nothing.

Finn crossed the room to where she sat. He didn’t stop to think about what he was doing. He merely reached down and hauled her up from the couch by her upper arms, holding them tight. “What the
fuck
do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, low and raw. “We have the most incredible sex ever and then you leave? Without saying a thing?”

She’d gone pale, her gaze firmly on the floor. “Let me go, Finn.”

He didn’t want to. She smelled so good, like everything he’d ever wanted. “Just tell me why, Anna.”

Her lashes lifted. Green eyes stared up into his and he saw pain in them. A pain he didn’t understand. “I’m sorry,” she said, voice hoarse. “I knew this was a mistake. And it is. I can’t deal with it.”

A mistake? She truly thought that? Even now?

Finn let her go so suddenly she stumbled. Agony twisted inside his heart. “I knew it. I fucking knew it. That’s all you wanted, a goddamned psychiatrist’s couch!”

A spark of anger in her eyes. “What did you expect? I’m not your girlfriend, Finn.”

The agony twisted a little more, anger intertwining with it. “No, that’s right. I’m just your best friend. Nothing major. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

Her mouth opened but no sound came out. Something glinted in her eyes. Tears. Then abruptly she turned away and picked up her backpack. “I’m sorry,” she said in a thick, muffled voice. “I’m so sorry. This was…way more than I’d ever expected. I just need some space to get my head around it.”

Finn took a breath, trying to get a handle on the rage and disappointment beginning to expand inside his heart. He needed to calm the fuck down. Get a bloody grip. Because the experience had been more than he’d expected too. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps they both needed time to sort this out.

Running a hand through his hair, he turned, pacing over to the breakfast bar and putting his hands on the wood. To keep from reaching for her. “You’d better go then.” He kept his voice deliberately curt.

A silence behind him. The pressure of her gaze on his back. Her scent so close. Sex and vanilla and shampoo. His fingers curled on the wood.

“If you’re not gone by the time I turn around,” he said thickly. “I’ll take that as an indication you want to stay on that couch all night. With me inside you.”

This time the only sound was the slam of his apartment door.

Chapter Seven

“Anna? Are you listening?”

Anna blinked and realized, with a cold shock, that she hadn’t heard a word of what Adrian Fox, one of the managing partners of Black, Fox and Associates, had said. Again.

“Sorry,” she muttered, trying to ignore the curious stares the other people in the meeting were sending her. “What was the question again?”

Adrian, sitting at the head of the table, clasped his hands together—always a bad sign. “Okay, meeting over. Everyone out.”

Without a protest, the others began collecting their stuff and leaving the room. Anna reached out for the papers arranged tidily in front of her, all ready to do the same.

“Not you, Anna.”

Oh hell. Her hand faltered. “What’s up, Adrian?”

He didn’t move, staring at her over the top of the little round John Lennon glasses he customarily wore. “You tell me.”

Anna put her hands in her lap, trying for a bit of cool. “I’m not quite sure…”

“Don’t play dumb, Anna. That’s the third time you’ve lost it in the middle of a meeting. And I’m not talking about just today. We won’t mention the past six months you’ve been attending work apparently on autopilot.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

She hadn’t told anyone at work about the attack. Couldn’t bear to, even after the therapy. But she’d hoped that she wouldn’t need to, that she’d be able to handle it, that no one would notice. And no one had, right? At least no one had said anything until now.

Except it hadn’t been the attack she’d been thinking about this time. Oh no, she'd been thinking about Finn’s hands on her thigh. The intensity of having him inside her, of screaming in his arms as she’d come apart. And then afterwards… his voice as he'd demanded, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Anything you want to talk about?”

Anna forced her thoughts away from what had happened in Finn’s apartment. Couldn’t be thinking of that. Not now. Not at work. “No,” she said. “Nothing.”

Adrian’s gaze was blatantly skeptical. “Anna, you’re a great asset to this firm and your work is beyond reproach. But I have to be honest and say you haven’t been pulling your weight around here for the past six months. And I’m not the only one who’s noticed.”

Her fingers clenched in her lap. Dammit. And she’d thought she’d been doing so well. “I know,” she replied in a neutral tone. “I’m sorry. I’ve…got a few issues I have to deal with at home.”

Adrian gave her another look. “Well, okay, fine. You know we’re a supportive team. We have help available if you need it.”

“I understand that.”

“Do you need some time off?”

The offer was unexpected, and for a second Anna didn’t quite know what to say. “Time off?”

“Yes. A week or two to deal with whatever you’ve got going on.”

Well, she hadn’t needed it before. She didn’t need it now. Did she? “Thanks, Adrian, but I can handle it.”

Her boss frowned at her, silent a moment. Then abruptly he pushed himself up from the meeting table. “Take the rest of the week off, Anna. I’ll clear it with HR.”