Skin (McCullough Mountain 2) (17 page)

She was so fucking hot. His hands sifted
through her tangled hair and cupped her head. His mouth made a slow
journey to hers. When his lips touched the corner of hers she
turned away.

“Hey,” he whispered softly. “Let me kiss
you.”

“I just woke up,” she said in a pleading
voice. Her eyes blinked up at him so innocently it only fueled the
fire building inside of him. He would never rush her into anything.
He could wait for the bigger stuff, but he needed to kiss her.

“I don’t care.”

“Finn—”

“Are you turned on right now, Mallory? Be
honest. Please.”

She was quiet for several beats and then she
quietly said, “Extremely.”

Finally!
“Then let me kiss you,” he
said just as his lips closed over hers.

She was stubborn, keeping her mouth sealed
tight. But he wanted in. He pressed his tongue over the seam of her
lips until she finally opened. Sweeping his tongue deeply, he
kissed her with all the passion he held.

She slowly softened until her efforts to not
give over were futile. When he felt her small hands curl over his
shoulders he felt like his team just won the Super Bowl with all
his money riding on it. He growled and deepened the kiss, pulling
her tightly to him.

Her knees tightened on his hips as he ground
into her sex. Jesus, he hadn’t made out like this in years. Hands
pulled, heads dipped, and backs arched. It was already qualifying
as one of the hottest sexual experiences he’d had since being a
kid.

When things got a bit too intense, he pulled
away, and pressed his head into her shoulder to catch his breath.
“Jesus, Mallory. Kissing you is like…I don’t even know what. Give
me a second.”

He shouldn’t have stopped. Once he gave her
a moment to clear her head, the walls resurrected. He could almost
hear the echo of brick slamming down around her. Pressing his lips
to the soft skin below her ear—
magic spot—
he said, “You’re
so hot.”

Wrong thing to say. Her body grew as tense
as a corpse and she nudged him to get off. “I can’t breathe,” she
muttered.

He eased back and she maneuvered out from
under him. In a matter of seconds she was standing, adjusting her
clothes, and looking anywhere but at the bed.

“You okay?”

“Fine.” The answer was too high pitched and
quick to be true.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“No. I’ll be back.” She left the room like
her bed was on fire.

He stood and adjusted the blue Smurf village
setting up camp in his pants. Well, maybe Smurf wasn’t the best way
to describe his body at that moment. There was definitely a code
blue in play, but there was nothing small about it.

When she didn’t return, he headed out to the
living room and found her at the kitchen counter drinking a bottle
of water. “You okay?”

“Mm—hmm.” She was lying.

She chugged the water and proceeded to dig
around in the fridge. He crept up behind her and wrapped his arms
around her waist. She jumped and slammed the top of her head into
the freezer door causing all the jars in the fridge rattled.

“Jesus, Philly, are you all right?”

She stood and rubbed her head. “I’m fine.
Stop asking if I’m okay. I’m fine. Fine.”

He held up his hands. “All right. But you
just whacked your head pretty hard. Do you want some ice?”

Her eyes were wild and then abruptly they
glazed with tears. He stepped closer to comfort her, but she held
up a hand. “Don’t. I’m fine.”

Frustrated, he said, “You’re obviously
not
fine. You look ready to cry.”

Her lashes fluttered so rapidly he knew she
was trying to hide it. Unfortunately, one lone tear slipped past
and landed on her breast, turning the cotton of her shirt dark
gray.

“I think you should go.” He wasn’t expecting
that.

Feeling the returning sting of her
rejection, he stepped back. “What? Why?”

“Because…I just think you should go.”

Fuck that.

He stepped closer and caught the hand trying
to hold him at bay. Her other hand continued to rub her head where
an egg was likely forming. “I don’t want to go,” he said, replacing
the hand on her head with his own. Yup, there was a lump.

He kissed her hair and pulled her into a
hug. She was tense and he wasn’t sure why. “Mallory, if I did
something wrong, tell me. I mean, aside for startling you and
making you whack your head.”

Her shoulders lifted as she let out a long
breath. She breathed in and he had the suspicion she was sniffing
his shirt. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” she mumbled into his
armpit. “It’s me. I’m crazy.”

He laughed and rubbed a hand down her back.
“I know, but I like you that way.”

She pushed him away and took a step back.
Looking at the ground, she frowned and wrung her hands. “I…I don’t
know how to do this with you.”

“Do what?”

She waved her hand in the air as if that
explained things. “The…kissing…and stuff.”

“Seemed to me you know how to kiss just
fine.”

Her lips twisted and she shot him a sardonic
look. “You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t. Explain it to me.”

She sighed. “We’re friends, Finn. If we
cross that line there’s no uncrossing it.”

“So?”

“So aren’t you worried we’ll wreck our
friendship?”

Well, yes, he’d thought of that, but…he
wanted her. He wanted her badly. Not just once, either. He needed
to have her. He didn’t have friends like Mallory. She was special.
His instincts told him that the two of them as a couple would be
incredible. Once in his head, he couldn’t convince himself to back
down. This was right. “I won’t let that happen.”

“You can’t promise it won’t,” she
argued.

“I’m not a jerk, Mallory. I’d never stop
being your friend. I’m just not that type of guy.”

“Well, I don’t know if I’m the type of girl
who can have sex with someone and then go back to being
friends.”

He held up his hands. “Whoa! Who’s having
sex?”

Her mouth opened and closed. “Well…I
thought…” She covered her face with her palms. “Oh, God, never
mind. I’m such an idiot.”

He had to laugh. She was adorably confused.
He grabbed her forearm and pulled her to the couch.

When he sat down beside her, he said,
“Mallory,
if
we eventually have sex, that’s something we
will deal with then. Right now, I promise you, we aren’t. You can
trust me. Let down your guard. I’d never rush into sex with you
until we discussed it—not when we’re all wrapped up in each other’s
bodies and incapable of thinking clearly. I mean we’ll discuss it
like two mature adults considering taking their relationship to the
next level. You would know when I planned on sleeping with you,
because I would have to know you planned the same. Consensual.”

“But people get carried away—”

“I don’t. It’s difficult. I’ll admit I was
pretty turned on in bed with you, but I had it under control. I
know when to stop.”

She looked at her lap and mumbled,
“Sometimes there are things more intimate than actual sex. When we
were kissing…I don’t think I’ve ever been kissed like that. It
was…different.”

Thank God!

“I felt that too. It’s us. That’s what I’m
talking about. We’re attracted to each other—really attracted. If
we try to ignore it, that may be what ruins our friendship. I’m not
asking you for anything you aren’t willing to give. You say stop
and I stop. But I don’t know if I can go too long without being
able to touch you. I loved napping with you and waking up with you
in my arms.”

She twisted her lips. “Yeah, well, I’m not
used to being touched.”

“I noticed. Why is that? You had to have had
boyfriends back in Philly.”

She shrugged. “I guess.”

“You guess?”

“I mean I had friends that were guys. I’m
not a virgin, but…I’ve never slept with a guy.”

“You’re not a virgin, but you’ve never slept
with a guy?”

“I’ve had sex. Several times. I’m not a
whore or anything. I’ve been with three men. Well, the first time I
was seventeen, so actually, he was a kid. But as an adult there
were two others.”

“Okay.” This was good to know. “Do you want
to know how many people I’ve been with?”

“Oh, God. No thanks. You probably have a
list of beauties. Knowing will only make me more
self-conscious.”

“One.”

Her head kicked up and her eyes bore into
his. “
One?”

He grinned and nodded. “One. I lost my
virginity to Erin senior year after the homecoming game and I’ve
never been with anyone else.”

“How is that possible? Have you seen
you?”

He chuckled. She saw him as something he
wasn’t. He was just an average guy. Of all the McCullough siblings,
he was probably the least interesting.

“It’s not about looks. Sleeping with someone
is about sharing that intimate connection, feeling like you’re home
when you’re in their arms. I mean, sure, it can be exciting and
great, but without that emotional link, I’d rather pass.”

She stared at him, slack-jawed, for several
seconds. “Are you for real?”

“Yeah. Why?”

Shaking her head, she said, “Where I’m from,
guys don’t think like that, at least not the guys I know.”

“Maybe that’s why you haven’t found the
right guy yet.”

“Or maybe it’s me.”

He grabbed her chin and forced her to meet
his gaze. “Hey, I can assure you it’s not you. You’re beautiful,
sexy, smart, and funny. Those guys were assholes if they didn’t see
you for who you are, but I’m sort of glad they didn’t. If they did,
you might not be here with me.”

When she smiled he felt like he may have
gotten through to her on some level. It wasn’t right, how hard she
was on herself. So what if she wasn’t a size two? Most women
weren’t. After marriage people had families and all that
superficial stuff went out the window anyway. She needed to stop
beating herself up. He put a stop to the image put-downs, but
sensing she might still think she wasn’t good enough really pissed
him off.

“I’m sort of glad, too,” she admitted
quietly. “Next to all the guys back home, none of them can even
compare to you.”

His chest tightened at the compliment. He
wasn’t used to hearing things like that about himself. It felt
nice. He pulled her into a hug and kissed the top of her head.
“Thank you. That was really nice.”

“It’s true.”

He settled back into the couch with her,
refusing to let her go. “You know what this means now, don’t
you?”

“What?”

“It means you’re my girlfriend.”

He flinched as she poked him in the stomach.
“No, I’m not. You have to ask.”

He sighed dramatically. “Will you be my
girlfriend?”

“Maybe you should have one of your friends
pass me a note so I can circle yes or no if I like
like
you.”

“Are you making fun of me?”

“Yes.”

He bit her shoulder and she squeaked. When
he faced her, he said, “Philly, I like
like
you. Will you go
steady with me and wear my pin?”

She held out her hand and smiled.

He stared at her open palm. “What?”

“Where’s the pin?”

“Oh. I don’t have one. But I’ll get you
one.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s so
anti-climactic.”

“Does that mean yes?” he asked.

She pulled out of his grip, grabbed the
notepad on the table, and scribbled something. When she flashed it
at him it said ‘yes’ with the word circled.

A shit-eating grin spread over his face.
“You know what this means now, don’t you?”

“What?”

“I get to kiss you whenever I want.” He
lunged at her and she squealed, but soon he silenced her with his
lips.

The following week was fantastic. The sky
was a little bluer. The changing autumn leaves seemed more radiant.
The chatter of children playing outside her office window at recess
sounded more harmonized. And she breathed a little easier. Why?
Because she had a boyfriend!

Only because it was completely inappropriate
to doodle hearts with her and Finn’s initials all over the
attendance sheets, did she resist the urge. But the temptation was
definitively there. All week long she had a proud version of her
own voice cheering in her head, which kept a smile pasted on her
face.

Who’s that sexy mountain man?

My boyfriend!

Which McCullough is the cutest?

My boyfriend!

Where were you last night?

Out with my boyfriend!

Did you kiss him?

Oh yeah! I kissed him! I kissed him up real
nice!

She’d regressed to the age of fifteen, but
was doing a good impression of a woman in her thirties. How the
hell had she gone thirty years and not once known what it was to
have a real boyfriend? She was walking around like she defined
awesomeness and there was nothing that could hinder her mood.

Student sent to the office for putting gum
in Tiffany’s hair—no problem. She smiled at him and gave him a
piece of candy from the jar on her desk, convincing herself he
probably did it because he like
liked
her. She saw
everything differently. Gone was the cynic and in came the
optimist.

The craziest realization was that she—for
the first time ever—started to consider that she might actually be
sexy. Maybe. Finn thought she was.

They’d exchanged phone numbers and he had
made a point to text her regularly. Mostly little things, like
‘How’s your day going?’ or ‘Thinking of you.’ Or—her personal
favorite—‘Can’t wait to see you and kiss that soft spot by your
ear.’

She was a goner, but she didn’t care. Finn
was probably the nicest guy she’d ever met. And the sexiest. And
the best kisser. And he was hers! She really needed to get that pin
he’d talked about, so others knew it.