by Zoe York
She froze for a moment, pausing with the table held a couple inches above ground. Then she shook her head and shuffled forward, her gaze locked on the ground. “That’s quite a claim when you haven’t been here in years. You don’t know me. You knew me, once. Not the real me, though. Only the person I showed to everyone else because I didn’t even know me back then.”
“You don’t really believe that. I knew you. I saw you. Saw everything you tried so hard to hide from everyone else. I wish you’d let me in again, because then or now, nothing much has changed. You’re still my favorite.”
She blinked at him, seeming to be at a loss for words. Good, he wanted to crack those walls she’d built up. Wanted to take a wrecking ball and knock them all over.
She forced out a laugh as she spun around and grabbed the closest chair to move. “Favorite, huh? I don’t know about that. I seem to remember a certain stuffed monkey named Ralph who you absolutely treasured. He even had a better spot next to you on your bed than I did.”
He didn’t know whether to fall to her feet and hug her or hoot to the heavens. Because try as she might, she hadn’t forgotten about them. About their history or the dumb little things that made them them. It gave him hope like nothing else had.
Making a big deal of looking around, he shot a worried glance over his shoulder. “Hush now, Willowtree. That’s supposed to be just between us.”
She pressed her lips together, clearly trying to rein in a smile, but it didn’t matter that her lips never curved. The laughter sparkled in her eyes.
And he couldn’t stay away anymore.
Not stopping until he was close enough to touch her, he did just that, tracing his finger from her temple down her jaw. “We had a lot of things just between us, didn’t we?”
Her eyes connected with his, and for the first time since he’d been back, they were open and honest—like a wall had been knocked down right before his eyes. She seemed to realize it too because she turned away, freeing herself from his gaze. “I wouldn’t recall. So long ago and all. You understand.”
Oh, he understood, all right. Understood she was fighting like hell to keep those walls up. Well too damn bad. He’d knocked one down, and he wasn’t going to let her build it back up. Not if he had anything to say about it.
Finn slipped his hands in his jeans pockets and sidled up to her as she walked toward her discarded suit jacket. “Were you able to grab anything to eat while you were workin’ down here all day?”
She slid him a glance out of the corner of her eye, the apprehension he would’ve found yesterday thankfully absent. “You been watchin’ me, Finn?”
Dipping his chin in acknowledgment, he met her stare. “Every chance I get. Don’t ever want to take my eyes off you, Willowtree.”
The air crackled between them, and there was no doubt she felt it too. Not with how her lips parted, her breaths coming quick and shallow. Under the guise of grabbing her blazer, she dropped her gaze and draped the fabric over her arm. “Not yet. Hopefully Mac saved me some of whatever she made for dinner tonight.”
“And if she didn’t?”
She shrugged. “Then I guess it’s microwave popcorn to the rescue.”
The thought of her surviving on microwave popcorn after all she’d done today didn’t sit well with him. Not at all. “Or you could come up to my place and I could whip up a couple of your favorites.”
He could see the war going on behind her eyes, could see how much she was fighting with herself over her answer. He’d be damned if he made it easy for her to say no. “And, yes, I still remember the recipe—thin sliced bananas stacked on a generous portion of peanut butter with a drizzle of honey. And it just so happens I picked up a fresh loaf of bread today at the store.”
She heaved out a sigh, shifting from foot to foot as if the pain had finally begun to register. “I have peanut butter and bread at home, Finn.”
“I’m sure you do. But you don’t have a Finn at home to make it for you.” He reached out and slipped her jacket from her arm before draping it over his own. “Come on, Willowtree. After the day you had, let me make you a sandwich.”
Glancing across the square to their new building, she bit her lip. “But Drew—”
“Is out with Nola. He’ll be gone for hours.”
“I don’t know…”
“It’s just a sandwich.” The look she gave him said he wasn’t pulling off that lie. It wasn’t just a sandwich, and they both knew. “Okay, it’s just a sandwich if that’s all you want it to be.”
She stared at him for the longest minute of his life until finally she dipped her chin in acquiescence. He couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across his face, so fucking thankful he was making progress with her. He didn’t know if it was because she was too tired to argue, if the thought of trekking home was too much to take, or if it was him…them. Honestly, he didn’t care as long as it bought him more time with her.
He put his back to her and bent into a crouch. “Hop on.” Glancing back in time to see her horrified expression, he laughed. “Hurry up, I wanna get you fed.”
“I am not getting on your back, Finn. For one thing, I’m in a skirt. For another, I’m not twelve.”
He raised an eyebrow as he stared at her over his shoulder. “Pretty sure we used to do this when you were eighteen, not twelve.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not eighteen, either.”
“No, you’re not. But what you are is tired.” He stood and tossed her jacket over his shoulder, then bent and scooped her right off the ground and into his arms.
Willow gasped, her hand flying to the back of his neck to hold on. “Griffin Reilly, you put me down right this second!”
“What the hell is with everyone middle-naming me lately?” he asked as he took off toward his building. He tried not to think about how amazing she felt, how even after all this time, she still fit him like they were meant to join together. Like they were pieces of the same puzzle. And puzzle pieces, no matter how long had passed since they’d been put together, still linked seamlessly.
“Well, maybe you shouldn’t act like a Neanderthal and you wouldn’t get middle-named.”
“How is me wanting to save you from how much pain you’re in being a Neanderthal?”
By degrees, she began relaxing in his arms the closer he got to his building until she was nearly boneless, her fingers tracing small, subtle patterns on the back of his neck. He wasn’t even sure she was aware she was doing it, but he was. And his cock definitely was.
“Who said anything about being in pain?”
“Don’t insult me, Willowtree. Even though it’s been a while, I still know you better than most. And I know those two lines between your brows mean you’re in some kind of pain. With how you were shifting on your feet, I assumed it was those god-awful—but really damn hot—shoes.”
She lifted one leg and glanced down at her red heels with a sigh. “They’re my favorite, but they certainly aren’t conducive to ten hours of manual labor.”
“Why didn’t you go home and change?” He shifted her enough to open the front door, then strode toward the back stairs.
“Honestly, Finn, I can walk.” She clamped her mouth shut at the look he shot her. “And I didn’t go home and change because you know Daddy. No sense in giving him any more ammunition than he already has.”
Ammunition, his ass. Anyone else in Willow’s job wouldn’t have been able to pull off half of what she had. He was absolutely certain of it. He had to clench his teeth and force himself not to say anything about what, exactly, he thought of her asshole daddy. Finn wasn’t going to open that can of worms, not now that he actually had Willow in his arms. Now that she was talking to him and not biting his head off.
Once inside his apartment, he strode straight to the couch and sat down with her in his lap.
“What—” Before she could finish her question, he slipped off her shoes, then pressed his thumb into the arch of one foot, rubbing in soft circles as he kneaded the tension
away. “Oh Lord…” The words left her on a sigh. She tilted her head back, her eyes fluttering closed as she let out a moan.
And just like that, he went from half-mast to hard as fucking granite beneath her. She was perched directly on top of his cock, and there was no way she couldn’t feel it. No way she didn’t know exactly how much he wanted her. Though, that wasn’t anything new. He’d made that clear at Ty’s house and then at the hardware store. And now, if she gave him the chance, he’d make it crystal clear to her right there on his couch.
“Feel good?” His voice came out gravelly, the sound just a rough whisper between them.
There must’ve been something in his tone, because she lifted her head, her eyelids fluttering open so she could look at him. She met his gaze. And, Jesus, she was the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen. He wanted to spend an hour just reacquainting himself with her lips. Wanted to spend an hour on every inch of her body, just to make sure he didn’t miss anything new. Just to make sure he was as well acquainted with her now as he’d once been.
“We shouldn’t be doin’ this.” But her hands didn’t listen to her mouth as she reached out and traced his lips, scraped her nails through the scruff covering his jaw.
“I disagree. We should absolutely be doin’ this.”
“Everyone—”
“I don’t give a single shit about everyone. I only care about you and me. You already know where I’m at with this. What I’m feeling.” He slid his hand up from her foot, trailing his fingers along the curve of her calf muscle, kneading along the way. “Now I just need to know how you feel about it, Willowtree. So tell me what you want. You wanna try this thing with me? See if we’ve still got that spark?”
They didn’t need to see anything. The truth was there, glaring as bright as a flashing neon sign. He knew it. She knew it. He just had to wait for her to admit it.
And then the fun could start.
Oh Lord, what a day this had been. Willow had spent too many hours doing busywork just to please her daddy when she had about two dozen more pressing issues that still sat piled on her desk. Everything she’d had on her to-do list for the Fourth of July parade had been shoved to the back burner simply so she could tend to the issues her daddy thought were more important.
So she’d done everything no one else could be counted on to do. Her normal quitting time came and went, and yet she’d pushed on for hours. Hadn’t even had time for more than a package of cheese crackers from the vending machine and a bottle of water.
And then Finn had happened.
She’d been struggling with those godforsaken tables that weighed a hundred pounds, and he’d come strolling along, calm as you please and looking like sex on legs. After the day she’d had, was it any wonder she hadn’t put up much of a fight when he’d helped her, made her melt with his words, then hefted her right into his arms and carried her toward a gourmet dinner of peanut butter and banana sandwiches, like some kind of modern-day Prince Charming?
Willow had never needed a man to save her. Had, in fact, prided herself on being self-sufficient, if for nothing else than a passive aggressive jab at her daddy. But after twenty-eight years of being the only one she relied on, she couldn’t deny it was nice to just…be. Couldn’t deny it was sort of lovely having someone else want to take care of her. And not just want to, but actually push to be able to do so.
Which was obviously why she’d allowed Finn to. After the day she’d had, she’d been tired and exhausted and…weak. She’d said yes when she should’ve said no. When she should’ve gone home to her safe little guesthouse on Momma and Daddy’s property and binged on Netflix with Mac or took out her sexual frustration on a new painting instead of into Finn’s apartment where trouble was bound to turn up.
Trouble like sitting in his lap, being on the receiving end of a near-orgasmic foot rub while his erection pressed into her ass from below. While his breath ghosted over her neck. While simply being that close to him made her ache between her legs, made her clit throb with desire.
And now he questioned what she wanted? Ha! What she wanted wasn’t good for either one of them, especially her. But Lord, would it feel amazing.
“The spark between us was never in question, Finn, and you know it.” She rested her hand on his questing fingers hidden below her skirt, stilling them on her inner thigh. He traced microscopic circles on her flesh, heating her up from the inside out. Every inch of her felt that tiny touch. Every inch of her yearned for that same attention.
While they’d been intimate when they’d been teenagers, they’d only slept together once. And though it had been amazing because they’d been in love, she had no doubt he’d learned a few things in the past ten years. A few things she desperately wanted him to put into practice on her. He’d rock her world, undeniably.
“I do know it,” he said. With a hand against the small of her back, he pressed her closer. Close enough so he could trail his nose along the curve of her jaw. Close enough to breathe her in before pressing a soft kiss to the space below her ear. “I just wondered if you’d finally accepted it was still there.”
Accepted it? Of course she had. She wasn’t happy about it, but there was really no getting around it. Their connection was plain as day, from the way her body responded to him to the way his did to her. And after restraining herself a torturous amount since he’d shown up in Havenbrook, she wasn’t quite sure she wanted to ignore it anymore.
When they’d been younger, she’d always felt a sort of imbalance between them. He’d been more experienced, the bad boy of Havenbrook, while she’d been a good little Haven girl. And though he’d certainly never taken advantage of her or coerced her in any way, there was no denying he’d always been the one in the driver’s seat while she’d simply been along for the ride.
And then he’d left, leaving her crumbling in his wake.
But now… Now, she held every ounce of power in this…whatever this was between them. Even though it wasn’t the best reason to start something with him, she couldn’t deny she sort of loved it. Loved that this thing would stop or continue based on only a single word from her lips.
And, maybe, after so long of pleasing everyone else, it was finally time she did something selfish. Something just for herself. Something she absolutely, without doubt, should not be doing.
The thought sent her stomach tumbling, but she swallowed down her nerves and lifted the pressure she’d used to still his hand. Guided his seeking fingers farther up her leg and deeper under her skirt. “There was never any denying it back then, and there certainly isn’t any denying it now.”
He sucked in a breath, the ridge of his cock beneath her seeming to grow even harder. His eyes were molten as he stared at her, his fingers at her back clenched tight against her skin while the ones on her thigh were soft. Careful. Tentative. His voice, when he spoke, was low and deep. Raspy. Raw. “Be sure, Willowtree.”
Sure? She wasn’t sure about a single thing other than the fact that if she didn’t feel his hands on her, if he didn’t use his fingers to make her come, she’d die. So with a subtle dip of her chin, she sealed their fate.
He dropped his head to her shoulder on a groan and guided his fingers up her thigh until he met the damp fabric of her panties. “Jesus, you’re wet. You want my fingers, sweetness, or do you want my tongue? Can’t say I haven’t been dreamin’ about tasting your pussy again. Every damn night.”
With each word that left his mouth, he kept his touch featherlight. Teasing her until she couldn’t take it anymore. Until every inch of her ached with want and she was desperate to feel his fingers on her with nothing separating them.
“Anything…” she panted. “Anything.”
Finn scraped his teeth down the column of her neck, eliciting a shudder from her. “Careful, I might just take you up on that.”
Heaven help her, she hoped so.
She gripped his shirt with one hand, the back of his head with the other as he finally, finally pushed her panties to the side
and allowed them to touch skin-to-skin for the first time in ten years.
“Christ,” he groaned, his forehead pressed into her neck. “I thought I remembered what you felt like, but my memories have nothing on the real thing, do they? You’re soft as a rose petal. Soft and wet and warm and just aching for my fingers, isn’t that right?”
Before she could answer him, tell him, yes, oh Lord, yes, he swiped a finger through her slit and used her wetness to trace slow circles around her clit. All the while he watched her with an intensity she didn’t want to think about, didn’t want to question.
It didn’t matter, though. As soon as he slipped a finger inside her, both of them groaning at the contact, all thought promptly left her. Unable to stop herself, she guided his mouth to hers and slid her tongue against his as he pumped his hand beneath her skirt, working her slowly toward a climax.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten off by someone else’s efforts. Months…more than a year, maybe. But even when it’d happened, one thing was certain: she’d never rocked herself so unabashedly against their hand. Had never ground down on them with a single-minded desperation to get herself off, unconcerned with what they’d think or how they’d respond to her wanton portrayal.
Of course, with Finn she didn’t have to worry at all about what he might think. His body language said it all. The way he kneaded her ass, guiding her movements as she took his fingers deep inside over and over again. The way he whispered the filthiest things in her ear, how his cock seemed to grow harder with each passing second, with each stroke of his fingers between her legs.
“Come on now, Willowtree. Let me feel you come on my fingers. Let’s get this first one out of the way so I can take my time with the rest of you.” He sped up his hand as he spoke, his thumb flicking back and forth over her clit even as he pumped his fingers deep inside her. “I wanna spend an hour just kissing your breasts. Get you nice and worked up, then I’ll spread those gorgeous thighs with my shoulders and make myself at home between your legs. Better get you fed first, though, because once I get my mouth on your pussy, there’s no tellin’ when I’ll stop. Hours. Days.”
