Skin (McCullough Mountain 2) (18 page)

At night, she’d stare up at her ceiling.
Daydreams of kissing and hanging out with Finn turned into night
dreams that entailed a whole lot more. She could fantasize about
naked stuff in her dreams, because when she slept, she saw herself
differently. It was as though her soul shaped her body and she
liked who she was.

She’d started running an extra mile that
week. Knowing Finn wanted her—
her—
motivated her to be the
woman he deserved. She was down a total of twenty-one pounds. Less
than nine away from her first major benchmark. Every time she felt
like quitting, she told herself if she hadn’t gotten this far a man
like Finn might have never noticed her in the first place.

It was strange. Suddenly, when she measured
her value in accordance with the shape of her body, things stopped
adding up. That was shaky ground. It only made sense to believe
Finn was attracted to the
new
her. The old her was gross.
But there wasn’t much of a difference, was there?

She was her hardest critic. Some rational
side of her commonsense stood up for her battered self-esteem and
seemed to be speaking up more and more, telling her it didn’t
matter if she was thirty pounds lighter or a hundred pounds
heavier. He liked her for her. She didn’t trust this new theory and
it scared her. All his compliments were starting to confuse what
she always believed to be true.

Her clothes were falling off her hips and
she took great pride in bagging things up for charity. Tonight she
was going to the mall to buy herself a new outfit. She wouldn’t go
nuts, because she wasn’t stopping her progress, and would soon need
to buy new clothes again. But she wanted something pretty to wear
if Finn asked her out that weekend.

After work she did her run, showered, went
to the bank, and then headed to the mall. When she lived in the
city her pants had been anywhere between a size twenty-two and
twenty-six. There were no words to describe what it felt like to
walk out of the store carrying size eighteen jeans.
Eighteen!

On the ride home her phone was buzzing like
crazy, all texts from Finn. She couldn’t answer, because she was
driving, but the rush of being in such high demand was
euphoric.

When she pulled up at her place it was dark,
but there was no missing the reflection of her headlights in the
taillights of his truck. Adrenaline pumped through her as she
climbed out of the car and walked around the corner of the
building.

She hadn’t seen him for a few days and her
heart raced with anticipation. There he was. Beautiful.
Her
boyfriend.

He smiled and stood from where he was
lounging on the bottom three steps. “Hey, beautiful.”

That was her name for him, but he could
borrow it. He made her feel beautiful. “Hey.”

His gaze traveled to the bags in her hands.
“Go shopping?”

“Yes.”

He approached and she watched mesmerized.
Only cowboys could get away with that sort of swagger—cowboys and
McCulloughs. He relieved her of her bags and kissed her lightly on
the lips. It took all of her might not to swoon or rape him on the
spot.

He followed her up the stairs and with each
step something potent tightened inside of her. He was finally
there. Her hands shook as she unlocked the door. The moment she
stepped inside he dropped the bags and gripped her shoulders. Her
back hit the wall and his mouth was on her.

Deep, hard, thrusts of his tongue expressed
how much he’d missed her. She sifted her fingers through his soft
hair and fisted, loving the soft weight between her knuckles. His
growl was swallowed by their kiss as he proceeded to take over,
claiming her mouth, sending shivers up her spine.

Something hot and molten unfurled inside of
her. She shaved that morning and wanted him to touch her. Not get
fully naked, but she really wanted to feel his rough palm chasing
chills over her flesh.

Then there was his flesh. She could touch
him too. Her hands bunched up the soft cotton of his shirt and
landed on hot, firm skin. She gripped his hip, peeking out just
above the thick leather belt at his waist, and he moaned.

Her senses were getting carried away and she
was about to do something incredibly stupid when he backed away.
His thumb pressed over her kiss-swollen lips and he whispered, “I
missed you, Philly.”

“I missed you too. I couldn’t answer your
texts because I was driving.”

“I figured. Did you eat?”

“I haven’t had dinner yet. Do you want me to
cook something?”

His smile turned into something spectacular.
She wanted to know what he was thinking. “What?”

“I like that you cook. Not that it’s a
requirement, but I just…like it. My mom always cooked for my dad
and all of us kids. Nowadays it isn’t easy to find a woman willing
to take up that role.”

“Settle down. I meant I’d cook you a meal,
not change my life and turn into Donna Reed.” She turned and
started pulling out pans and items from the cabinets.

Truth be told, she didn’t mind cooking,
especially for a guy like Finn who enjoyed eating so much. She
understood what he meant. There was something to be said for a
woman willing to take care of her man and family. Finn was an old
fashioned kind of guy so she could understand why he found that
attractive. “Did Erin cook for you?”

Before she could pull the words back they
were out.

He cleared his throat. “Not really. She
liked to eat out a lot. What are you making?”

She unfolded the butcher paper and showed
him. “I picked up Tilapia. I was going to make it with some lemon
and herbs.”

He came around the counter and wrapped his
arms over her waist. She sucked in as he kissed her shoulder. “You
take good care of me. Can I help?”

“Uh, sure.” She rolled her shoulder causing
him to step back. She needed to think when she cooked and she
couldn’t think when he touched her. “I was also going to make
broccoli. You can wash it off.”

They worked around each other in the small
kitchen. Finn asked questions and was very helpful. However, he did
steal food right off the pan. When they sat down she opened a
bottle of wine and they feasted.

“This is amazing,” he said over a mouthful
of fish.

“Thanks. It’s one of my favorites. Tilapia
tastes good with anything.”

They finished eating and sipped their wine,
making small talk. The sexual tension worked like static
electricity, tripping over every nerve she had. She wondered if it
was one-sided or if he was feeling it too.

There was a very naughty side to her that
wanted to do very bad things to him, but her self-image always
seemed to intervene just in time. The pull to explore his body was
becoming more difficult to ignore by the minute.

Finn set his glass down with a hard click
and her gaze jerked to his. Tight breaths filled her lungs as they
stared at each other in silence. What was he looking at? Did she
have food on her face? She self-consciously wiped her cheek. When
he stood, the motion was abrupt and he jostled the table. A
heartbeat later he was in front of her and she knew he was going to
kiss her.

Staring up at him, she waited, but he didn’t
lean in. His hand slowly lifted to her face and her stomach sunk.
Crap, she probably did have something on her face. His hand cupped
her jaw, not to wipe away food, but to simply caress her. Rough,
calloused fingers tripped over her soft skin. Her lashes lowered
and she leaned into his warm palm and moaned.

“Shit, Philly, I may not be able to stay
long tonight.”

Her eyes shot open. “Why?” She didn’t want
him to go.

“Because I can’t think straight around you.
I want…” He shook his head as though he was waging some internal
war. “You.”

Her breath caught. Oh, the naughty Mallory
was coming out. She placed her napkin on the table and slowly
stood. Taking his hand she led him to her room and shut the door.
They stood at the foot of the bed and his chest rose and fell with
deep breaths. Never before in her life had she felt such a potent
pull to a man.

You cannot have sex with him!

I know!

Leaning up on her toes, she pressed her lips
to his, and the core of the earth seemed to crack open and swallow
them whole. His hands tightened on her as they fell onto the bed.
Mouths, lips, and teeth clashed together as they kissed
passionately.

Her fingers worked the buttons of his shirt
and she found utopia. Sculpted muscles curved his chest. His abs
showed like Jacob’s ladder. Tanned skin met her fingertips as she
explored him. He was utterly perfect. Her mouth kissed over his
Gaelic tattoo and he cupped the back of her head as he stretched
out beneath her touch.

She nipped and kissed at his belly smiling
when she found his ticklish spot, taking an extra moment to tease
him. When she tormented him past his limit, he rolled, and flipped
her onto her back. His lips set in an evil grin as he lowered his
mouth and kissed her slowly.

With drowsy eyes, he gazed down at her and
tugged at the collar of her shirt. “Can I take this off?”

Her heart clamored against her ribs. She
swallowed. “Sure. Shut off the light.”

His brow creased. “Then I won’t be able to
see you.”

“Exactly.” She leaned over to hit the
bedside lamp and he caught her hand.

“I want to see you, Mallory.”

She gave him a pleading look. “No, you
don’t.”

“Uh, yeah…I do.”

“Finn—”

“Let me see you.” He kissed her softly,
persuasively.

“No.”

“Are we going too fast?”

“No.”

“Then…” The question fell away. “I see what
this is.” He shook his head and it was obvious she’d upset him.

Quickly trying to explain, she said, “I’m
just not comfortable being naked.”

“Do you think anyone is? We all have
insecurities. They shouldn’t exist between lovers.”

“But we aren’t lovers. At least, not
yet.”

“And when we are, will we only do it under
the covers with the lights off? Because I got to tell you, Mallory,
I’m not about that.”

Weight settled on her chest. She wasn’t
trying to be ridiculous. It was like paralysis. She simply couldn’t
abide him seeing her naked. Every time she’d ever had sex her shirt
had remained on and it was always in the dark. Her breasts were big
and awkward and she could never relax enough to enjoy them being
touched.

In a desperate act to distract him from her
flaws, her hand went to the buckle of his belt. “We can do
something else with the lights on.” He caught her arm, his eyes set
in disbelief, and her desperation morphed into shame.

“No. I don’t want that from you. Especially
not when you’re using it to divert my attention, Mallory. Sex in
any form of manipulation is a turn off to me.”

Swallowing tightly, she nodded, and withdrew
her hand from his zipper. She usually experienced that
self-deprecating sense of regret the morning after, but with Finn
it was smack dab in the middle of what they were doing. Why did she
just do that? She felt dirty and not in a good way. “I’m
sorry.”

“Hey,” he snapped. “What happened? We were
enjoying ourselves and everything just went wrong.” He shook his
head. “Let’s rewind for a second. Come here.”

He tried to pull her close, but she tilted
her head away like a disgraced dog.

“Mallory, look at me.”

She blinked at him with glazed eyes. “I’m
sorry.”

“Stop saying that! If you’re too in your
head while I’m touching you then
I’m
the one doing something
wrong.”

She gasped. “What? You didn’t do anything
wrong! It’s me.”

“And what did you do? Tell me what you did,
because I see it in your eyes, and I know you’re punishing yourself
right now.”

She nearly choked. “I don’t know,” she
mumbled lamely, knowing exactly what was in her head but not having
the right words to express it. Disgust. Self-loathing. Insecurity.
Fat! It had absolutely nothing to do with him.

“Mallory, talk to me. It’s just us. You can
say whatever you’re thinking.”

She shook her head. No she couldn’t.

He cupped her cheeks and she realized tears
had started to fall. She was ruining everything. “Talk to me,
Philly,” he whispered and she had the urge to run away.

“I just wanted to please you.”

“You
do
please me,” he said
emphatically.

“I don’t want to see disappointment in your
eyes when…I thought if I could distract you…”

He made a sound between a gasp and hurt,
perhaps there was a tinge of disbelief as well.

She lowered her eyes. “I don’t know why I’m
like this. I’ve never been comfortable in my own skin.”

His expression showed sympathy, but he
didn’t comment. She went on. “I’m…” Crap, she was really going to
admit this. “I’m afraid if you see me naked you’ll leave a Finn
shaped hole in the door.”

He laughed. “That’s crazy talk. I see you
all the time and I haven’t run yet. Besides…unless something’s
chasing me…” He shrugged and she chucked. “I know what you look
like, Mallory. Everything I’ve seen has only made me want to get
closer to you. I’m not going anywhere.”

Her breath was staggered as she glanced up
at him. There was nothing but sincerity in his eyes. Why was this
so hard for her?

Realizing there was no postponing the
inevitable, she stood. Taking a deep breath, she caught the hem of
her shirt and slowly lifted it over her head. Her eyes sealed shut
as the material hit the floor. The bed squeaked and she imagined
herself standing in her white lace bra and him gathering his shoes
and quietly leaving.

She flinched when his fingers grazed the
exposed skin of her shoulders. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered and
her expression tightened. For some reason those words caused a
physical ache inside of her.