Skin (McCullough Mountain 2) (19 page)

It felt like a lie, but sounded like truth,
which made it cut a thousand times deeper. She couldn’t abide
Finn’s pity and the chance that he was lying to her, because he
somehow felt responsible for her inner turmoil, slayed her. Her
head started to shake in denial, but he caught her chin in a firm
grip.

“Yes,” he said sternly.
“
Beautiful
.”

When she opened her eyes his gaze was
searching hers. He wasn’t even looking at her belly or her breasts.
He was looking into her soul. It was then that she realized he was
telling the truth. He saw her as beautiful. The dose of honesty
wasn’t too hard to swallow, because it was quickly followed with
her private admission.

I love him.

Stretching her arms behind her back, she
undid the clasp of her bra and dragged the straps down her arms,
letting it fall to the floor. Finn never took his eyes off of hers.
His hand slowly slid down her arm to her fingertips. A soft caress
whispered up her side and her flesh was suddenly engulfed in the
warmth of his palm.

She sighed as his thumb slowly traced over
her turgid nipple. His lips found hers and he kissed her slowly.
Her passion had been banked to make room for something so much
more.

Her body quivered as he touched her with
gentle hands and soft lips. He pulled her to the bed and slowly
eased her to her back. His hands trailed over her arms as he
settled on top of her. She was grateful his body offered some sort
of shelter.

“Kiss me, Mallory.”

Her lips met his with barely restrained
esteem. Only he could do this to her, push her to face her demons
and loan her courage to carry on. At the press of his erection
through the barrier of both of their pants, she realized he was
aroused and it wasn’t an act.

As if heaven opened up, assurance washed
over her and she gripped his shoulders. The kiss deepened as his
hands did amazing things to her breasts. She arched and moaned as
his mouth captured her nipple. Every caress, every touch, liberated
her a little bit more. Then something incredible happened.

Tightness coiled in her lower abdomen.
Nothing like the rapid twitch she felt when she got herself off.
This was molten and languid and oh so decadent. He suckled her
breasts and the pulling continued. Like slow waves, it built and
built until her legs were trembling and she was crying out.

His arms wrapped around her back and he held
her as she came apart. Thirty years old and she’d just experienced
her first orgasm from a man.

The scruff of his jaw rubbed over her
shoulder as he kissed her throat. “You’re so responsive,” he
whispered. “That was beautiful.”

She was speechless. Nothing like that had
ever happened to her before. He reached for the covers, pulled them
up to their shoulders, and curled her into his side.

She should probably do or say something, but
she had no idea what. Didn’t he need to come? Men usually got
grumpy when they didn’t come.

His fingers combed through her hair and as
much as she wanted to resolve the unattended issues, her body
wanted to sleep. She shut her eyes, there in her boyfriend’s arm
with nothing but pants on, and let her mind rest.

“Finnegan McCullough, you had better have
some good answers for why it’s dawn and I’m just settin’ eyes on
your face now! Nothin’ but trouble’s open after two, and I want
some answers!”

Finn winced as his mother scared the hell
out of him as he crept in the front door. Jesus, was that the
wooden spoon in her hand? “Christ, Ma, I’m twenty-eight years old!
Are you gonna beat me with that spoon?”

“If I like. Where were you?”

“Out.”

“Don’t feed me that rubbish. Who were you
with?”

“Friends.”

“What friends? Kelly said he hadn’t seen you
last night. Were you with Erin?”

His gaze jerked back to the living room
where he was almost free. “No. I wasn’t with Erin. We broke up a
few weeks ago and we won’t be getting back together.”

Her gaze studied him. “The city girl?”

“Her name is Mallory, and yes, I was with
her.”

This seemed to please his mother greatly,
but her wide smile suddenly turned into a scowl. “Finnegan, love, I
sure hope you didn’t do anything stupid. A good girl deserves
respect. I didn’t raise my boys to run around fornicating all hours
of the night.”

He threw up his hands. “Jesus, Ma! I wasn’t
fornicating and I wish you and Dad would stop using that word.”

“What were you doing then?”

“Sleeping. I didn’t mean to stay this late,
but we fell asleep after dinner. I’m still tired, so I’m going to
bed now. Please put the spoon away.”

He turned and his mother mumbled something
about her sons being sluts. If only she knew how unslutty he had
been last night. His shit still hurt. Rather than heading to his
room, he hooked a left at the top of the steps and headed to the
bathroom. He needed some relief.

After his shower, he fell into bed, but
couldn’t sleep. His mind filled with visions of Mallory. He
understood why she was self-conscious. She wasn’t built like the
women plastered all over the media, but in his mind she was built
better. It was amazing touching a woman who actually had
breasts.

She was soft and curvy and he still could
not believe he made her come without penetration. He would have
accused her of faking it, but the shock that registered in her eyes
showed she was as surprised as him.

He hadn’t wanted to leave. When he woke up
with her partially naked and warm in his arms, he’d wanted to stay
there and touch her some more, but he knew his mother would be
worried since he hadn’t told anyone where he was going.

Sighing, he rolled to his back and stared up
at the ceiling. The tightness in his cheeks told him he hadn’t
stopped smiling the whole ride home. Part of him, after spending
time with Mallory, wondered why he’d been so stupid to stay with
Erin all those years. They shared none of the chemistry he and
Mallory shared. However, as he was grateful Mallory’s experiences
led her here, he supposed he had to be equally grateful Erin had
kept him off the market.

They were so different. He’d thought Erin
was the best he could do. He thought their sex was pretty good.
Every foundation he’d assumed was wrecked after one night with
Mallory and they hadn’t even had sex. Being with Mallory topped
every experience he’d ever shared with Erin. Their chemistry was
simply off the charts, but it was so much more than that.

Mallory was real. She had feelings and
emotions and struggled to communicate them as best she could. Erin
never did anything but complain. Mallory always asked about his
family and took them into consideration, but Erin…they were polar
opposites.

All morning, as he contemplated his new
relationship and newfound happiness, he kept stumbling over the
same conclusion and tossing it away. He’d spent ten years with Erin
and although they’d said they loved each other in high school and
here and there, it held the same sentiment for him as it did when
he told his friends.

Now those words, like everything else, took
new meaning. He wanted to say them to Mallory, but feared he’d
scare her. Was it possible to fall in love so fast? He wasn’t
thinking about marriage…well, maybe a little. It was just so easy
to see Mallory in a home that wasn’t built yet, smiling as she made
dinner, and chased the kids out of the way.

“Fuck.”

He rubbed his palms over his face. His brain
was moving way too fast. Maybe he needed to put a little space
between them, get a grip on his emotions. That’s what he would do.
Although, whenever he tried to stay away from her, his desire for
her only became so much more intense.

“Shit.”

Should he blow her off tonight and go out
with friends? He grimaced. He didn’t want to hang out with anyone
but her. He also didn’t want to smother her. If other people were
around, that would be fine, so long as she was there. He wanted to
gorge himself on her. Would he get tired of her then? Maybe he
should be more worried about her getting sick of him.

* * * *

Finn made it to three o’clock that afternoon
before texting Mallory.

Hey, Philly. What are you up to?

~F.

Just got back from my run. About to shower.
Are we going out

tonight?

~M.

Yes. Where would you like to go?

~F.

The pub? IDK. You choose.

~M.

At seven he headed to her place to pick her
up. The entire ride to Mallory’s apartment, he gave himself a pep
talk about keeping it in his pants and not letting his words get
away from him. He felt pretty secure in his plan until Mallory
opened the door and he saw what she was wearing.

Her legs were encased in tight black jeans
and boots that went up to her knee. Not boots like those ugly wooly
things girls wore. No. These were black, sexy as hell, Wonder Woman
boots.

Her shirt was some flouncy pink thing that
showed just the right amount of cleavage to make his jaw unhinge.
And her hair was pulled up in some fancy twist thing with little
sexy wisps falling down here and there. He was done for.

“Hi,” she said as he stepped into her
apartment.

He leaned in to offer a chaste kiss. “Hi.”
He cleared the gravel out of his throat. “You look pretty.”

“Thanks.”

He was amazed she didn’t argue with him or
show any signs of disagreement. The thought that she might
feel
pretty was very satisfying. He liked to think that
maybe his honesty with her and constant reminders that she was
beautiful might have helped her see herself as she really was.

“I thought we could go to that Mexican place
for dinner. Then, if you’re up for it, we could swing by O’Malley’s
and see what everyone’s up to.” He needed to prolong returning to
her apartment. All he could picture was Mallory in those boots and
nothing else.

“Okay. Let me get my jacket. It got cold
today.”

He turned and faced the door because his
stupid boot fantasy was making him hard. “Yeah. Winters are pretty
brutal here. I hope you have a good coat.”

“Got a good man,” she said, sneaking up
beside him and pressing a kiss on his cheek. “He keeps me
warm.”

She perched up on her toes and traced her
lips over his, teasing him with her tongue. He cleared his throat
and put his hands on her shoulders. “If you want dinner, we better
go.”

She frowned, but nodded.

The ride to the restaurant was quiet. She
asked about his day, but he had nothing exciting to report. She
asked if they could go climbing again and he said sure. Other than
that he was lost in his head. Terms of endearment and love
cluttered his mouth to the point he was afraid to speak. Mentally
he was a mess and physically he was even worse.

Just tell her.

He couldn’t say he loved her. It was too
soon and he didn’t have the confidence to believe she could love
him back so soon. He didn’t want to cloud their relationship with
lies and couldn’t bare her saying it back out of a sense of
obligation. He wasn’t being honest, but he also wasn’t lying. He’d
just keep his mouth closed so he didn’t screw up the first good
thing he had.

As he held her door and she climbed down
from the truck cab he noticed her boots again. “Are they new
shoes?”

“Yup. This is the outfit I bought Friday. Do
you like it?”

“Yeah, it’s nice,” he said, shutting the
door and quickly turning away so as not to give away how much he
liked it. He was hard as a rock.

When he took her hand and started walking
she tugged him back. “Finn, what’s wrong?”

He looked away and rubbed his neck with his
free hand. “What? Nothing. Come on, let’s eat. I’m starving.”

As the waiter took their order, Mallory was
quiet. She didn’t have the smile she had earlier in the evening and
he sort of felt responsible. Reaching across the table he took her
hand. “You okay?”

She nodded unconvincingly.

Their food came and he devoured his steak
fajitas while she seemed to enjoy her grilled bass. After dinner
she had a glass of wine while he had a beer and the silence was
getting to him. When she excused herself to use the bathroom, he
flagged down the waiter and asked for the check. They needed to be
around more people.

When she returned from the bathroom, he
stood and handed over her purse. She frowned and glanced at her
glass of wine. Shit. It wasn’t even half empty. She could get
another one at the bar.

He held her door as she got into the truck
and when he started the engine he said, “O’Malley’s?”

“Maybe you should just take me home.”

His gaze jerked to her as heavy sadness
filled him. “Why?”

She shrugged. “You don’t seem like you’re
having much fun.”

“Mallory…I’m having fun. I just…” He shook
his head and swallowed. “I’m sorry. I’m being weird tonight. I
didn’t want to come on too strong, that’s all.”

She laughed without humor. “You have a funny
way of showing it, McCullough.”

He took her hand and squeezed gently. “I
swear, the last thing I want to do is take you home.”

She coughed. “Wow. Okay.”

“No! That’s not what I meant. I just
mean…Fuck. I’m saying everything wrong. I want to take you home,
but I don’t want to do anything you aren’t ready for. I wanted to
take you out and show you a good time first—not first—just show you
a good time period. Nothing else has to happen. I’m not expecting
anything.”

She scowled at him. “What are you saying,
Finnegan? You aren’t indebted to me. If you want to drop me off,
drop me off. I’m not going to attack you.”

Why was everything he said coming out wrong?
“I don’t want to drop you off.”