Page 38

As he’s naming off all the snacks, I’m already forgetting why I need to stay away from him. We settle on the couch and agree on a movie that came out about a year ago that neither one of us has seen yet. We start out stiff, watching the movie like two new friends, but as Finn gets up and grabs me another water, he sits back down closer to me. The cushion dips, and I end up leaning into him. He doesn’t immediately pull away, so I don’t either. Instead, I rest my head on his shoulder. Max-Max moves between us, wiggling his butt to separate us, and we both chuckle. “He’s so cute,” I say.
“Tell me about it.” Finn ruffles his fur. “The best part is that Jax keeps pretending he doesn’t love the little guy too. I’m waiting to see how long it takes him to break.”
“How long has it been?”
“Six months.”
“Six months? Jesus. He hates everything.”
Finn glances away absentmindedly, his hand already searching for the remote. “Something like that,” he mutters, but we both let it drop when he presses play and the movie starts up again.
When the credits are rolling on that one, we decide on another, and we don’t even pretend we’re not snuggling anymore. He has his arm around me, and my cheek is pressed against his chest. Maxie up and left when we kept getting closer and closer, but he didn’t move too far away. He’s lying on the opposite edge of the sectional, glaring at me. Well, glaring at me when he’s not sleeping, that is.
I pull the covers around us, sinking deeper into his embrace. His hold tightens, his thumb making nonchalant circles over my shoulder.
At some point, I must fall asleep because I wake in his lap. I still, then lift onto my hands. Peek toward him, I find him grinning at me. “Sorry. I didn’t drool, did I?”
He shakes his head slowly. “I wouldn’t care if you did.” He looks at me with soft eyes, the amber in them almost sparking. “I forgot what it was like to hang out with someone who wasn’t my brother.”
I keep my smart aleck comment to myself. I’m sure Jax is a good person, he’s just a bit surly, especially to me. Instead, I scold him. “You should’ve woken me up.”
“No way,” he says. “I couldn’t stop watching you.”
I peek over at the movie to find it paused. I mentally berate myself, hoping I hadn’t slept for long. I lean back on the couch, running my hands through my hair. “It’s the couch’s fault.”
“Ouch, and here I was hoping it was because you were so comfortable around me.”
“Too comfortable, I guess,” I tell him, letting my regret at our current situation seep in.
He turns toward me, cupping my cheek in his hand. “It shouldn’t make me happy that you said that, but it does. I keep looking at you and how perfect you are. You’re putting up with my brother. You love my dog.”
“Sounds like a country song,” I joke, trying to take my mind off the instinct to kiss him again.
“Your personality,” he continues as if I never said anything. “That fucking kiss.” He drops his gaze to my lips.
I lose all resolve. Leaning forward, I press my mouth to his eagerly. Like before, he opens up, and I don’t waste time deepening the kiss, only forcing him to retaliate with his own punishing movements. He keeps coming, moving my back to the couch cushions. He lies alongside me, one hand cradling my head while the other flutters over the exposed skin of my belly.
I moan into his mouth, my muscles jumping underneath his soft caresses. “Pretend this isn’t happening,” he whispers quickly before claiming my lips again, making me forget every reason why we shouldn’t be doing this. It just feels too right to ignore.
We kiss each other silly like teenagers until his hand starts drifting toward the top of my jeans. I encourage him with slight hip rolls until he’s flicking the button of my jeans open and lowering the zipper. He skirts his hand under my panties, and I break the kiss to breathe out, my heart hammering inside my chest. He stares down at his hand and then back at me, locking his gaze with mine.
I wrap my hands around his neck and pull him to me, tangling my tongue with his again as his fingers once again continue their descent. He moans when he finds me wet for him. I spread my legs as he skillfully dips his fingers between my folds, spreading my juices around before moving to my clit.
I gasp into his mouth at the incredible sensations, and he pulls away. “Is this okay?” He’s stopped moving, waiting for my reaction.
“God yes,” I tell him, my breaths coming in short pants.
He starts a slow perusal of my bundle of nerves, spiraling closer and closer until he focuses on my tight bud, the epicenter of the pleasure rushing through me. I hold onto his forearm, sinking my fingers into his skin as he watches my every reaction. It’s as if he’s learning my body, storing away information for later, and with his expert touch, I can only hope there is a later.
He works the pad of his thumb against me in the most beautiful friction. Embarrassing moans creep up my throat, and I lock gazes with his intense eyes. “I’m going to come soon,” I warn.
He swallows, his prominent Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he watches me. “Come for me, beautiful girl.”
I try to hold off. With the knowledge that this might be a one and done thing, I want to make it last. But after those words, my body propels me forward. Pleasure spirals outward, and my body locks up before releasing in a beautiful bliss of ecstasy. My mouth drops on its own accord as I moan into the air between us. “Finn...”
He slows his movements, my body trembling in the aftershocks. When I’m finished, he moves my panties back into place, zips and buttons my jeans, and then places his hands on my hips in that same sort of possessive grip I love.
His eyelids flutter closed. “I want to do that again.”