Skin (McCullough Mountain 2) (20 page)

“Then why are you acting different? Look, I
know we…messed around last night, but if you’ve had a change of
heart, just tell me.”

He did have a change of heart, just not the
way she suspected. “Mallory, nothing’s changed. I’m just having
some issues.”

“Issues with what?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m
afraid if we go back to your place I won’t be able to walk away
this time.”

When she didn’t say anything he glanced over
his hand at her. Her mouth was agape and her eyes were wide.
“What?” she rasped.

He shifted uncomfortably. He’d been hard for
over twenty-four hours. It was getting to the point that he thought
someone slipped him a pill. “I’m saying I want you. I want you bad
and then I show up and you’re wearing that sexy fucking outfit and
those Wonder Woman boots and—”

“Wonder Woman wore red boots.”

“You know what I mean. You look incredible.
I’m afraid to be alone with you, because I don’t know how in
control I am right now.”

She laughed. “You’re afraid to be alone with
me, because you’re afraid we might have sex?”

“Yes. But it’s more than that. I don’t want
you to get the wrong idea.”

Her scowl returned. “What idea is that?”

“This is going to sound clich��, but the idea
that I might just be using you, because I’m not.”

When she was quiet he knew it was because
she’d already considered that and it pissed him off. He was fucking
head-over-heels for her and she thought there was a chance it was
all bullshit. That was exactly why he couldn’t sleep with her
yet.

“I see,” she said quietly, crossing her arms
over her chest and facing the windshield. “So what happens
now?”

“I figured we could go to the pub and have a
few drinks.”

“Because intoxication detours lust? I’m
sorry, in my opinion, it has the opposite effect.”

“I won’t come in when I drop you off. I mean
I’ll walk you to the door, but that’s it.”

Her head lowered and she suddenly looked
sad. “Okay.”

He turned her chin and stared into her eyes.
“Make no mistake, Mallory. I want you. This has nothing to do with
the opposite and everything to do with me trying to be a
gentleman.”

She offered a half-smile. “Maybe I don’t
want you to be a gentleman.”

“Don’t say things like that,” he rasped.
“Unless you mean it. I’m holding on by a thread here.”

* * * *

Mallory weighed the sincerity in his eyes.
He actually looked sort of desperate, like he was about to lose it.
At first she thought her outfit was too much. It took a lot of guts
for her to wear fitting clothes and when he didn’t go overboard
with compliments she began second-guessing everything, as usual.
Now she realized she’d been way off. Maybe.

Crap.
She didn’t know what to
believe.

There were two possibilities here. One, he
was lying and making up all this crap so that he could avoid going
home with her—a very not nice scenario. Or, two, he really did want
her that much that he was in borderline pain trying to be a
gentleman.

She glanced at his crotch. The truck was
dark, but there was a bulge there. Finn wasn’t a small guy, though.
She’d never seen him naked. Maybe that’s just how he always was.
The thought gave her chills.

“Are you hard?” She gasped and covered her
mouth as the words fell out.

He choked and even in the dark she saw his
face flush. “Philly, I’ve been in pain for over twenty-four hours.
I passed hard yesterday.”

Her thighs clenched as a soft rhythm
throbbed in her sex. She cleared her throat again. “Then, maybe you
better take me home after all.”

He sighed, and the sound was laced with
defeat.

She stared out the front window and said
with all the courage she could muster, “But maybe you better stop
at the store first.”

“Do you need something?”

“You need condoms.”

The door slammed shut and Finn slid behind
the wheel, a tiny, black bag in his hand. He wouldn’t look at
her.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked,
shoulders tense as he gripped the wheel and stared straight
ahead.

Was she sure? No. Yes. No. Maybe.
Absolutely. While he ran in the store, she’d compiled a fairly
reasonable list of reason why she
should
sleep with Finnegan
McCullough.

One, he was the hottest man she’d ever set
eyes on. Two, he apparently wanted to have sex with her. Three, she
would do it eventually anyway. Four, he gave her butterflies that
tickled her insides more than anything she’d ever felt. Five, she
was in love with him—a dangerous truth, but true all the same.

The list went on and on. Reason thirty-six,
he had abs like a Greek god. Reason fifty-seven, he smelled like
bottled heaven. Reason one hundred and one, that sexy dimple he got
when he smiled.

It was a very convincing list, but her list
of fears and reasons to run for the hills was also quite
convincing. One, he could obliterate her heart. That was basically
it on the con-list, but it was a big one.

They both seemed to be breathing loudly. She
stared unblinking at the dashboard and said, “Yes.”

They each appeared incapable of eye contact.
It was a surprise when she felt his hand wrap around her fingers
resting on the seat and give her a little squeeze. She turned and
stared at him. Slowly, he faced her in his seat.

There was no cocky, player glint in his
eyes, no pre-assumed edge of victory. It was then she understood
this was big to him, possibly as monumental as it was for her.

He’d only ever slept with his high school
sweetheart and she’d only ever had quickies in the dark with
meaningless acquaintances she’d hoped to never see again. Those
rules wouldn’t apply to Finn. She was growing addicted to his
presence in her life and she’d have to face him in the morning.

He would understand, once and for all, she
was nothing like Erin or any other girl. He’d finally get to
experience her, all of her.

He slowly backed out of the store parking
lot and they drove in silence. When he parked outside of her place
the truck shut off and the only sound was the quiet pinging of the
engine cooling. Dear God, what if she sucked at sex?

Panic had her heart racing. What if she was
slow and awkward when he wanted fast and hard? What if she didn’t
make the right sounds or was too loud? What if she got sweaty or if
he—

Stop it!

Her hands fisted on her lap. She jumped as
he opened the passenger door. He seemed nervous. Maybe he was
having second thoughts.

His gaze was lowered, lashes forming purple
crescent shadows on his cheeks under the streetlight.

“We don’t have to do this if you changed
your mind,” he said quietly. “I mean, I want to. I want you more
than I think I’ve ever wanted a woman, but I don’t want you with
reservations. It’ll keep, Philly. What I feel for you won’t
diminish if we say goodnight right here, right now and decide to
hold off a while.”

It was becoming harder and harder to
breathe. Where did he come up with such perfect words? No one had
ever made her feel so…wanted, right, worthwhile.

As she slowly faced him, she saw not the
strong, sexy mountain man she’d bumped into in the woods several
weeks back, but the stunning man inside. The one not everyone knew.
She knew him. She got a side of Finnegan McCullough others often
overlooked. He thought he was ordinary, but he was so perfectly
simple, so perfectly sweet, he was everything a girl needed. She
needed him.

“Just…be patient with me,” she whispered,
showing him with her eyes how much she wanted this, but that she
still had vulnerabilities that could throw her.

Leaning in, he tenderly pressed his lips to
hers, and all fear subsided. There was no way a man could fake such
affection. It was surreal, believing he truly wanted
her.

They held hands and took the steps slowly
side-by-side. He relieved her of the keys and unlocked the door.
Where had her voice gone?

She removed her jacket and placed it on the
back of a kitchen chair. Clearing her throat in the silent
apartment, she said, “Just give me a minute in the bathroom,
okay?”

He nodded.

She went to the bathroom and stared in the
mirror. She looked slightly different from the girl she left behind
in Philly. Her jaw had narrowed and her cheeks were more defined.
Her hair had grown in a bit. She undid her bun and let her hair
fall over her shoulders.

Shaky fingers unzipped her boots and she
stepped out of them, shrinking three inches. She undid her jeans
and slid them off her legs. Taking a deep breath, she removed her
shirt and folded it on the corner of the sink.

It wasn’t easy to face her reflection, but
with a slow turn she pivoted. Opening her eyes she tried to see
herself, truly see her, the way Finn would see her. Her breasts
were displayed in a satin, black bra, supported in a way they
didn’t naturally sit. Her stomach curved in wrong places and her
belly button was a crease rather than the petite hole that a super
model might show off.

The black lace of her boy shorts scalloped
the pouch of her stomach, making her, again, appear more feminine
than she actually was. She would not start berating herself, not
now when this was going to happen.

Her fingers unclasped her bra and away went
the support and down fell her breasts. Her nipples darkened and
tightened in the cool air. She had nice nipples, not to big and not
too small. Not too dark and not too pink.

Her gaze landed on the jagged white scars
stretching over her breast. She’d started getting stretch marks
when she was a teenager. No amount of lotion or magic cream took
them away and she, for the most part, tried to ignore them. Maybe
he would ignore them too.

Her head bowed as she slid off her panties.
There she was, as naked as the day she was born. Wide hips creased
by gravity made it difficult to notice the small patch of soft,
brown curls at her apex.

Her gaze flowed over her reflection and took
note of her better qualities. Her nails were painted and filed
neatly. Her makeup was subtle, but nice. Her hair was long and
natural in color. For some reason, it became important for her to
show him exactly who she was. There would be no veils or facades,
not tricks of beauty or accessories to distract the eye. It was all
or nothing. If he wanted
her,
that was exactly who he was
going to get.

She emerged from the bathroom wearing only
her robe. Her breath caught when she saw him sitting on the bed in
only his jeans, his bare chest showing in the soft lamplight from
the nightstand. He was stunning.

A fine trail of golden, brown hair ran over
his abs, disappearing behind the unbuttoned snap of his jeans. On
the nightstand she spotted the infamous box of condoms. Funny, not
until that moment did it actually register that she was going to
have sex. The physical act was second hand to all the emotional
repercussions.

She hadn’t had sex in years. She almost
forgot what it felt like. Chills skated up her spine as she drew
the slow epiphany that whatever he was hiding in those jeans was
going to be inside of her very soon.

She smiled and he reciprocated the gesture.
With slow steps she walked into the bedroom. Taking one last look
at the beautiful man sitting on her bed, her fingers went to the
switch on the wall and extinguished the light.

Darkness settled on the room for only a
second and then a soft click came from the bed as Finn leaned over
and turned on the nightstand lamp. He slowly shook his head,
telling her there would be no hiding.

Having her body displayed in light where
unfavorable shadows could be cast was not a comforting thought. But
the look in his eyes told her the idea of seeing her without
shields was very favorable to him. She nodded in acceptance and he
whispered, “Thank you.”

Her feet carried her slowly to the bed.
Standing at the foot, she struggled with the tie of her robe. He
stood and met her at the foot of the bed, touching her hands
softly, stilling her motions.

She let out a shaky breath as he took over
the knot and whispered, “Let me.”

Shutting her eyes, she nodded as the
terrycloth lapels were drawn apart. He sucked in an audible breath
and said, “Gorgeous.”

She bit her tongue so as to not object to
the compliment and gentle fingers tipped up her chin. Soft lips
pressed into hers and she shivered. The heat of his body covered
her front as he stepped even closer. Tender lips coaxed her mouth
open as he kissed her softly. Their heads tilted and her body
warmed.

Strong hands cupped her breasts as his thumb
dragged over her nipples. Her body tightened as he deepened the
kiss.

The backs of his knuckles caressed her
stomach causing her to slightly suck in a breath. He teased at the
soft curls at her apex and she whimpered.

“I love your body,” he said against her
lips.

His hand pressed into the base of her spine,
drawing her closer. Every part of her shook. His mouth caressed the
corner of her lips, and then trailed over her jaw and down to her
throat. He nibbled at her ear and she nearly collapsed. There was
something so magnificent about Finn’s mouth on her ear. It made her
insane.

Her sex clenched with rapid little flutters
as moisture gathered at her folds. His fingers teased at the edge
of her robe, up and down, over her breasts, and then the weight of
the soft fabric fell away.

Blanketed in the cold of the room, she
shivered. Her shoulders now exposed, he kissed them gently. His
touch was so delicate. He made ever patch of flesh, every nerve,
come to life.

He nudged her toward the bed and eased her
down. Self-consciousness reared its ugly head as she sat. Quickly
adjusting her pose in the skinniest fashion she could manage, she
leaned all the way back on the cool bedding and extended her arms
above her head.