Page 24 of Three Bossy Boyfriends (Honeysuckle Harbor #3)

Evan

Christopher sent a car for Finley.

I love that. I know that she’s going to try to make this just about sex.

She’s going to want it to be fun, for sure.

I have no doubt it will be fun and playful.

That’s just a part of who Finley is. But I also know she’s also going to try to keep it simple and superficial.

She’s leaving in July. She doesn’t want a bunch of complicated emotions.

I already know her that well.

But Christopher isn’t going to make it that easy for her.

I don’t know that my boyfriend wants to make this something serious or long-term, but he’s going to treat her very well. Not just physically. He’s going to make her feel special and cared for. He can’t help that.

So, he sent a luxurious town car to pick her up at her sisters’ house to bring her to his place. There’s champagne in the back, some chocolates, and flowers. The whole nine yards. She’ll have no doubt about what tonight will look like by the time she arrives on his doorstep.

“She won’t just refuse to get in the car, will she?” he asks, as he paces across the room and refills his tumbler with scotch.

I hadn’t actually thought of that but… “I suppose that’s a possibility.” Anything is possible with Finley. “But I know she wants this, Christopher.”

He sighs. “But the romance will be too much.”

I am sitting in one of the armchairs in his living room. This is the first time I’ve been to Christopher‘s place, and I’m pleasantly surprised by what I’ve found in his historic three-story home.

It’s cozy. The house has hardwood floors throughout, original crown moldings, and beautifully preserved cabinets and bookcases.

It’s filled with period-appropriate furniture in sophisticated, muted colors, and there’s artwork on the walls.

Books fill the shelves, and they aren’t just decorative.

There are a variety of sizes and bindings and genres.

They seem to be books he’s actually read or wants to.

He even has photographs. Of his family, of scenery, of vacations.

I had expected a more sparsely furnished space.

Or less color. Or less personality. Something.

I know Christopher doesn’t cook and doesn’t spend much time at home.

He goes out for most of his meals and spends long hours in the office.

Still, his house feels like a home. Empty of people, but still full of things he clearly likes.

“I don’t think it’s that she doesn’t like romance,” I comment. “I think it’s possible she hasn’t been sincerely romanced by too many men, though. And she won’t feel that this is sincere. It’s short term. She’ll think it’s sex only.”

Christopher settles on the arm of the sofa across from me. “Is this superficial?”

I’m not going to lie to him. We’ve started a relationship.

One that I hope lasts for a very long time.

That means we need honesty and openness.

“No. I like her. A lot. I respect her. I enjoy my time with her even when we have our clothes on. And there’s something about her that makes me want to…

” I trail off, not quite sure what words to use.

“Take care of her. Make her feel special.”

I watch him carefully as I ask, “Are we talking about how I feel or how you feel?”

“Yes.”

Interesting. “You have feelings for her. Other than attraction.”

He nods. “I think some of it is how she is around you. The fact that we both care about you gives us something important in common.”

“You think she cares about me?”

“I do. And I like that about her a lot. But there’s also something about her, something that makes me want to make tonight more than just sex.”

“Why?” I ask, truly curious. “Do you think this will be more than one night?”

“I hope so.”

“Tonight hasn’t even started and you want more?” I’m glad he’s saying this. I feel the same way.

“Yes. Do you think that’s going to be a problem?”

His doorbell rings and my heart thumps hard. I nod. “She’s as stubborn as she is beautiful.”

Christopher tosses back the rest of his scotch and gets to his feet, heading for the door. “And she’s really fucking beautiful.”

Exactly.

“You sent a car?” Are the first words I hear from Finley when Christopher opens the door. “Do you know how hard that was to explain to my sisters?”

“Your sisters were at work. No one saw you get in the car,” Christopher says calmly.

“Well, the neighbors did. And they’ll definitely say something to my sisters about it. I’ve broken up with Evan. Or rather, he dumped me for you. How am I supposed to explain a fancy black car pulling up at my curb to pick me up on a Friday night?”

She steps into the living room with Christopher right behind her. She’s holding the bottle of champagne–uncorked—in one hand and balancing the box of chocolate against her opposite hip.

I get to my feet, already grinning at her.

She’s in tennis shoes, sweatpants, and an oversized hoodie sweatshirt. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail, and she has no makeup on. It’s clear that she did not dress to be seductive or dress to be taken out to any fancy restaurants or hot clubs.

Subtle she is not.

“I noticed you still got in the car,” I comment, crossing to stand right in front of her.

Christopher moves in so he’s directly behind her. We’re not touching her, but we’re very much in her personal space.

She looks up at me. “You two made some pretty big promises to me. I’m here to collect. And I don’t have my own car.”

I cup her face in both hands. “We’re very glad you’re here.”

“Even in sweatpants,” Christopher adds.

The tiniest smirk pulls at her mouth. “If you want to see me in slutty lingerie that costs more than I make in a month, you’re going to have to pay for it.”

Christopher coasts his hands up and down her sides, and I don’t miss the way her breath catches or the little shiver of desire that goes through her.

“Noted,” Christopher says. “But I get to pick it out then.”

My gaze moves from her beautiful face with the now faintly flushed cheeks to Christopher‘s.

I can tell he’s already picturing her in various types of lingerie.

How interesting. We’ve discussed the fact that we’ve both been with women in the past, but Finley is the first woman I’ve actually seen have an effect on Christopher in the time I’ve known him.

It’s a whole different thing to actually witness it versus just knowing it.

“Do you want to go shopping now?” she asks, turning her head to look at him over her shoulder.

“No, I do not,” Christopher tells her. “Do you?”

“No.”

“Good.”

You only need to know Christopher Davis for five minutes to know he likes to be in charge.

You only need to know Finley Anderson for four minutes to know she very rarely lets other people be fully in charge.

Tonight is going to be so fun.

She looks back to me. “So now what?”

“Are you hungry?” Christopher asks her.

“No. Not for food.”

“Do you want a tour of my house?”

“No.” She’s still looking at me as she answers Christopher’s questions.

“Do you need anything at all?”

“Yes.”

“Anything, Finley,” he tells her.

“I need to come. Really badly. Hard. Fast. A lot.”

Heat punches me in the gut. I see Christopher’s jaw tighten. And I note the flash of mischief in Finley’s eyes.

“Do you think you could help me out with that, Mr. Davis?”

“How do you want it?” he asks.

“Well…” She licks her lips, her gaze on mine, then dropping to my mouth. “Evan has already been really, really nice to me. And really nice to you , I assume. And vice versa. It’s probably time for you to be nice to me, don’t you think, Mr. Davis ?”

I know exactly what Christopher is going to say to that.

And I know that Finley knows what Christopher is going to say to that.

He doesn’t disappoint.

“You want me to fuck you, Finley?” he asks, pressing closer to her, moving her against me. His hand coasts up her side to the front of her throat. “You think it’s my turn in this tight, needy little pussy?”

She swallows hard against his hand and says softly, “Yes.”

But we both know that’s not how it’s going to go. Not at first.

Because Christopher calls the shots.

Fuck, this is going to be so hot.

He strokes his big fingers along the column of her throat. “Kiss my boyfriend, Finley,” Christopher says.

She gives me a triumphant little smirk. “Hold my champagne, Christopher.” She lifts the bottle.

He takes it from her, along with the chocolates, and sets them on the coffee table.

Her arms come around my neck, and she lifts up on tiptoe. I bend and our mouths meet in a sweet kiss.

Christopher presses her into me. I feel his hands move between us, and I realize they are stealing up underneath her sweatshirt.

“Nothing on under the sweatshirt and sweatpants, Miss Anderson?”

She pulls back just enough to answer, “Easy access.”

“Indeed. Now kiss Evan like you mean it.”

I don’t know exactly what he’s doing to her, but she moans and leans into the kiss more fully, opening her mouth.

I take advantage, slipping my tongue between her lips and tasting her fully. Champagne and chocolate. Fucking delicious. She kisses me back with exuberance, whimpering against my mouth.

I don’t think it’s just because of the kiss, though.

I pull back and look down. Christopher‘s hands are moving underneath her sweatshirt, clearly covering her breasts.

Without a word, I take the fabric in my fist and lean back enough to pull the sweatshirt over Finley‘s head. Christopher continues to play with her breasts and nipples, Finley sagging back against him as I toss her shirt to the side.

The sight of his big hands on her body fires my blood. I can’t wait to see them together. Really together. Christopher is phenomenal in bed, and I can’t wait to see the things he does to Finley.

“Take her pants off,” he tells me, plucking her nipples and making her moan.