Page 41 of Making Home with You (The Rockport Beach #3)

Finn

Sarah says nothing as her arms tighten around me, pulling me closer. I’m struggling to stay in control; pissed off at everything that has happened and scared of Sarah’s reaction to it all.

Why the hell would she stick around with all of this shit going on? How could she possibly want to stay involved with me when I have a fucking crazy person coming after me, coming after her, for fuck’s sake?

“I’m so sorry,” I repeat knowing no amount of apologizing is going to make this any better.

“Finn,” she says, pulling back a little.

She stares up at me, a small smile on her face as she brushes a hand across my cheek.

I feel myself leaning into her touch. “It’s okay,” she whispers.

“Truly, I couldn’t give a shit about my things,” she continues.

“It’s just stuff, stuff that can be replaced.

What I do care about is you. How this is affecting you. ”

My heart pounds in my chest at her words, my brain barely processing what she’s telling me. “Fuck, Sarah,” I say as I haul her against me, kissing her hard and deep.

She moans into my mouth and I deepen the kiss even more, needing to be close to her, needing to show her how sorry I am that all of this shit is happening to us.

I feel her hands slide lower to the bottom of my sweater, where she grabs the hem, yanking it up my body and over my head, her mouth returning quickly to mine before I have a chance to say anything.

My hands find the bottom of her shirt, tugging it from the pants she’s wearing. I want to rip it from her body, tear it open, but I don’t, forcing myself to undo the buttons carefully, knowing the last thing she needs is another destroyed piece of clothing.

I eventually get it undone, the soft material falling to the floor at our feet. I slide my hands down her back, her skin soft beneath my fingers. Sarah pushes herself closer, her breasts against my chest as I slide my hands under her ass and pick her up.

She wraps her legs around my waist as I walk us out of the kitchen and down to the bedroom. Thankfully I had time to change the sheets and clean up the worst of the mess before she came home. The last thing I want to do is be with her like this in a room that’s been tainted by Carla’s presence.

Inside my room, I lower her to the floor, my hands immediately fumbling with the belt at her waist even as she hungrily shoves my sweats down my hips. When both of us are finally naked, I drop to my knees in front of her, my lips pressed against her stomach.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper against her soft, warm skin.

“Hey,” she says, her hands cupping my face as she tilts it so I’m looking at her. “It’s okay,” she whispers.

I stare up at her, my eyes searching her face, desperate to believe the words she’s telling me.

She smiles. “Come here,” she whispers, pulling me to my feet.

Urging me backward, she pushes me back onto the bed, moving up my body so she’s straddling my hips. I stare up at her, watch as she gently rakes her fingernails down my chest, tracing a path over my stomach and sending shivers all through me.

Inching backward on my hips, she moves lower, her hands circling my dick and gently stroking my already hard shaft. It doesn’t take much and soon she lifts up, positions me against her before slowly lowering her body onto mine so I’m buried deep inside her.

I groan loudly, the sound filling the room. Sarah’s head falls back as she slowly starts to ride me, my hands on her hips and gently guiding her, as my thumb circles her clit.

We fuck slowly and for what feels like forever, but it can’t last and eventually, I feel Sarah clench around me, a loud moan falling from her mouth as she comes undone.

It’s enough to tip me over the edge too and pushing up off the bed, I drive myself deeper into her before I let go and come, my body shaking with desire and something I can’t identify.

Sarah collapses on top of me, her head resting on my chest, my heart pounding beneath her ear and my dick still buried inside her.

“You okay?” she eventually asks, brushing her fingers across my shoulder.

I shrug. “Better,” I say, knowing that as good as that was, it doesn’t change any of the shit that went down today.

She lifts herself up, both hands planted on my chest. “Better?” she asks, mock surprise on her face. “Not great or fantastic or totally and utterly satisfied?”

I know she’s trying to make me feel better and it works, despite everything that’s happened.

I grin, flipping us over so she now lies beneath me. “Satisfied, yes,” I growl, nipping her ear.

“Utterly satisfied?” she asks teasingly.

I lift my head. “With you, always,” I say. “But hey, I’m always happy to try and top that.”

Sarah grins up me, her hand sliding around my neck as she pulls me to her mouth. “Come here cheeky boy.”

The next day, Detective Greenwood calls just as I’m finishing lunch.

“So, I’ve got good news and I’ve got bad news,” he says, not bothering with pleasantries.

“Okay,” I say warily.

“The good news is we know who took the video,” he says. “My guy spotted it straightaway, as soon as he enhanced the image, there was a reflection in the glass of your front window.”

I swallow hard at the knowledge that not only has someone else now seen the video, but they’ve seen it in all its enhanced high-definition glory. “And?” I ask, impatiently.

“You were right, it’s Carla Robinson.”

“Fuck,” I breathe out. “I knew it.”

“Hmmm,” is all he says.

“What?” I spit out, the word harsh. “You still don’t believe me, even though you now have proof that it’s her doing these things to me?”

I can feel my blood pulsing as a wave of anger crashes through me. How can he possibly still believe her story about me sexually assaulting her when he now has proof that she’s the one who’s been stalking and harassing me?

“It’s not that, Finn,” he says. “But this is only proof she took the video, nothing else.”

I shake my head, even though he can’t see me. “Right,” I say, my jaw tight. “So it’s not enough to get her for breaking into my house then, is it? Or harassing my girlfriend or sending those pictures?”

“We can still get her for harassing Sarah,” he says. “We just need to take her statement. We also managed to lift a print from your house, but when we ran it through the database, we didn’t get a match. Obviously, if she’s not in the system, this isn’t surprising.”

“But you’re going to ask her for her prints, right?” I immediately ask, knowing that if this gives us a match, then there’s no way she can deny that she was the one who broke into my house.

Because despite having known her since high school, Carla Robinson has never set foot inside my house under my invitation. I’ve never once had cause for her to come over, so the only possible way her prints can be inside my house are if she’s the one who broke in.

“Well,” Detective Greenwood says, bringing me back to the present. “That’s the bad news,” he adds.

My heart sinks as my brain runs through all the possible scenarios for what he’s about to tell me. “What?”

He lets out a long breath. “We can’t find her,” he says.

“What? What do you mean you can’t find her?” I practically shout. “This town is fucking tiny, you must be able to.”

“She’s not at home, she’s not answering her phone, and she hasn’t shown up to work for the last two days,” he says. “No one has seen or heard from her.”

“Fuck,” I murmur, shoving a hand through my hair. “So what the hell do we do now?”

“Well, you don’t do anything,” he says. I open my mouth to speak but before I can, he continues, as though he senses I was about to interrupt him. “But, given the new evidence from the video and the fact your girlfriend is willing to go on record about her interaction with Carla…”

“And my house getting trashed,” I add.

“And,” he says, the tone in his voice suggesting he doesn’t appreciate the interruption. “The coincidence with your house and the photos we found, which would appear to corroborate your story.”

He pauses and I force myself to not say anything, even though his words still imply that what I’m saying is only a story and not fact.

“I’ve taken it to my boss,” he continues. “And he’s agreed that we have grounds to execute a search warrant on her house.”

All at once my body sags in relief, a long breath falling out of me as a weight feels like it’s being lifted off my chest. Even though there’s no reason to suggest they’ll find anything at Carla’s house, the fact that everything is now being taken seriously enough that they are willing to look is enough to reassure me that I’m finally being believed.

That all of the things she’s said about me and what I supposedly did sixteen years ago is complete and utter bullshit.

Never in a million years would I ever treat a woman that way.

Never would I do the things she’s alleged I have done.

Because while I might not have ever been looking for a girlfriend, it doesn’t mean I’m the type of guy who treats a woman like that.

Who disrespects her in that way as though she means nothing.

God, just the fucking idea that some people in this town might actually believe I did that, makes me feel sick.

“Finn,” Detective Greenwood says, the tone in his voice suggesting it’s not the first time he’s spoken my name.

“Yeah, sorry,” I breathe out. “What did you say?”

“I know this isn’t what you wanted to hear,” he says. “But it’s a start and the order’s been expedited, so we should be able to head over there sometime this afternoon.”

“I’m guessing I won’t be able to be there?” I ask, even knowing there’s not a chance in hell he’ll let me be involved.

“You know I can’t let you,” he says, his tone sympathetic even though he’s reminded me of this a hundred times already.

I nod, but say nothing.

“Look, I promise to keep you in the loop, okay?” he adds, as though this is some sort of peace offering.

“Thanks,” I say, scrubbing a hand down my face. “I appreciate it.”