Second Chance Charmer

by Brighton Walsh

  “I’ve got it under control.” Finn wiped his brow with his T-shirt and tucked it back into the waistband of his shorts.

  Drew barked out a laugh. “The last thing you are is under control. And I’d place bets on the fact that it has a little something to do with the pretty lady leaving town hall even as we speak.”

  Finn glanced up in time to see Willow start the trek down the front steps, her gaze fixed on the opened door of the bar. There was no way she could see him from her vantage point, but it was obvious she was looking. He couldn’t figure her out. If she went out of her way to avoid being around him all day, why was she peering in his direction? Better yet, why was she purposefully walking so she’d have to pass directly in front of their door when he knew she parked on the other side of the square?

  Well, Finn had had his fill of unanswered questions today. It was time to set things straight.

  He didn’t take his eyes off Willow as he spoke to his brother. “Do me a favor—”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m leaving.” Drew’s footsteps carried him to the back of the space, then up the stairs to the apartment.

  The rest of the crew had left about an hour earlier since they’d been starting the days at six a.m., which meant Finn and Willow would be alone. He waited until she was right in front of the door before he reached out, grasped her wrist, and tugged her inside.

  She gasped, stumbling a little as her eyes flew to his before darting around, then looking back out at the square. Goddammit. That was exactly what he’d feared her issue was. She didn’t want people seeing them together. And, shit, with their history, he couldn’t exactly blame her. Didn’t mean he liked being shoved in the closet like he was some dirty secret. Like she was ashamed of being with him.

  As one of the Thomas boys from the wrong side of the tracks, he’d dealt with that plenty when he’d been younger. Oddly enough, he’d never gotten it from her. Which meant he certainly wasn’t going to put up with it now. Not when he wasn’t anything to be ashamed of.

  “Finn—” She cut off on a gasp as he spun her until her back hit the wall next to the door.

  He stepped in close, crowding her up against the wall. So close her lavender scent filled his nose. Made his mouth water and his cock twitch. He was like Pavlov’s fucking dog around her. “Oh, so you do remember my name. I wasn’t so sure with how you’d been acting today.”

  She dropped her eyes and glanced off to the side. “I’m sorry, I just—”

  “Don’t want anyone to know what we’re doin’.” He stared down at her, hoping with every ounce of his being he was wrong. Maybe he’d misread her. Maybe she had just been busy.

  But instead of reassuring him, she bit her lip and finally met his gaze, her eyes wide and pleading. Fuck. He couldn’t say that didn’t hurt. Though he also couldn’t say he didn’t deserve it. He’d been the one to leave, and she’d had to hang around and deal with the aftermath. He didn’t blame her for not wanting to go through it again.

  Didn’t mean it hurt any less.

  “Can’t say I’m happy about this, Willowtree. Not happy about it at all.” He reached up and tugged her lip from between her teeth. “But I understand.”

  Her mouth dropped open as she stared up at him. “You…you do?”

  He nodded then stepped into her until there wasn’t an inch separating them. Until she could feel exactly what she did to him merely by breathing. He’d managed to go a decade without her touch, and now that he’d had it again, he couldn’t even go a week without burning up for it. He needed her. But more than that, he needed to prove to her she needed him too.

  “I didn’t make it easy on you back then, and you had to live with the consequences of my choices. But things are different now. I hope you know that.”

  She glanced away, the apprehension written on her face giving a one-two punch to his stomach. Yeah, he’d have to work on that with her, because he wasn’t about to let her worry he’d run away again. Though, really, what did he think was going to happen? The plans were still to stick around just until the bar was well on its way so Nola would be able to quit her job and work full time there. It’d been taking a bit more time than usual—especially with Dick’s interference, as well as a lot more details to iron out than any of them had anticipated—but the final goal was still the same.

  Eventually, he and Drew would go back to California. And Willow? Willow would stay in Havenbrook.

  The thought churned his stomach, but he pushed down the feeling. Didn’t have time to worry about that now. What he needed to do was make sure she knew he wouldn’t abandon her like before. He might be going, but he’d make damn sure she wasn’t in the dark about it. And he’d make damn sure she’d have a hell of a good time while he was still there.

  “Okay, we’ll work on that,” Finn said. “That’s on me, and I’m going to prove things to you this time around. While I do, this…us…can stay quiet if that’s what you want.”

  She blew out a deep sigh. “Thank you.”

  “Not so fast.” He gripped her hip and tugged her into him, letting her feel how hard he was for her. “Out there, to everyone else, you can be perfect Willow Haven who doesn’t get around with the likes of one of the Thomas boys.” He reached up and brushed his thumb over her bottom lip, aching to feel those wrapped around his cock. “But away from prying eyes? You’re mine. And you’re going to give me everything when we’re together.”

  She didn’t say a word, just panted as she stared up at him, equal parts apprehension and arousal written all over her face. He knew her well enough to know she was probably worried about being played for a fool. Again. But one glance at the front of her shirt told him whatever worries she had were fighting hard with her desire. He could work with that. As long as he still had her attraction, he’d prove everything else to her in time.

  He’d just have to work extra hard in the little amount they had.

  Finn cupped one of her breasts and flicked his thumb over the hardened peak. Then he leaned down, dragging his lip across her jaw until he pressed his mouth to her ear. “I’ll be giving you everything too, Willowtree. Don’t you worry about that.”

  No longer satisfied with the feel of her through layers of clothes, he slipped his hand under her shirt, pulled down the cup of her bra, and brushed his fingers over her nipple. Christ, he needed to feel her wrapped around him. Needed to take her right there against the damn wall, surrounded by dirt and dust and God knew what else. He couldn’t wait another minute.

  “Finn—” She let out a moan and tilted her head back as he kissed and sucked and nipped along her neck, all the while he gripped every bit of her he could reach. “The door…”

  Blindly, he reached out and swatted at the main door, finally connecting with it and slamming it shut to keep out any passersby. Couldn’t do a thing about the bare windows, but from where they were, tucked a bit to the side, someone would have to walk up and cup their hands around their face to see inside. It’d have to do.

  “Any more excuses for me, sweetness?” he asked against her neck, licking up one side and nipping at her jaw.

  She panted against the side of his face, her grip on his forearms so tight, her nails left crescent marks on his skin. “None.”

  Like music to his goddamn ears. “Good.”

  He thanked the Lord she was in another one of those skirts she seemed to love. He loved them too. Loved seeing her ass showcased in her trim skirts, her long, shapely legs on display. Loved even more that it took hardly anything until he had full access to her pussy. And he was going to take advantage of it.

  “You know how many times I’ve fantasized about this? Dreamed about fucking you against a wall?” He cupped both her breasts as he rained kisses all over her neck and collarbone. “Used to be all I thought about when we were teenagers. Taking you out to the alley after a shift at the shelter, pressing you up against the brick wall, and making you moan my name. Dirtying up all that perfect Willowness. Jesus, the things I wanted to do to you back then
would’ve had your daddy hauling me off to jail. You were always too good for me, weren’t you? Still are. Because you deserve to be made love to on a nice soft bed piled high with pillows, but I’m gonna fuck you against this wall like a goddamn animal instead.”

  “Here?” She moaned low in his ear when he tweaked her nipples, her hips restless against him.

  “Right here.” He dropped his hands to the outside of her thighs and slid them up, pulling her skirt as he went, until he cupped her ass. Until only a tiny piece of lace cover her from his questing fingers. Her panties were just the right size to hide the sparrow on her hip, and he’d bet one of his balls she bought that style specifically for that feature. She didn’t want to see it. Didn’t want to be reminded of what they’d had and lost. No, not lost—what he’d ripped from them both.

  But he wanted to. Needed to.

  Finn plucked his T-shirt from the waistband of his shorts and tossed it off to the side, then dropped to his knees in front of her. Gripping her hips, he leaned forward. Placed a kiss directly over her pussy barely hidden behind purple lace. He thumbed down the side of those cock-tease panties until he could see his mark on her. Jesus, what that ink did to him. Made him hard as fucking stone. Reassured him in a way nothing else could. Reminded him what they’d had was real, despite what everyone else had said.

  And he’d thrown it all away.

  He closed his eyes and leaned forward, scraped his teeth against the black shape before caressing it with his lips, then his tongue. As he focused his attention there, he slid her panties down her legs until she stepped out of them, steadying herself on his bare shoulders.

  What a goddamn sight she made. She leaned against the wall, sexy as hell red heels on her feet, black skirt pushed up around her hips, legs spread just enough to let him glimpse at all that delicious pink between her thighs.

  Her fingers were restless on his shoulders. “What about Drew?”

  “Stop talking about my brother when I’m about to eat your pussy.” With his tongue, he traced a path where her leg met her body, earning himself a shudder from her.

  “Finn—”

  “That’s right. Just my name when I’m licking all this sweet heaven. Don’t worry about anything else but how many times you can come on my tongue, all right?”

  He didn’t give her a chance to voice any other concerns before he lifted one of her legs, tossed it over his shoulder, and fixed his mouth over her pussy. Their groans filled the empty space around them, the tone of hers making his cock twitch. Jesus, had it really been less than a week since he’d tasted her? Since he’d felt her hands in his hair, trying to guide him where she wanted him to go? Since those beautiful thighs had quivered against his face as she’d come?

  He hooked an arm over her thigh, sliding his fingers down her stomach and between her legs to hold her open for his tongue. He’d just gotten his mouth on her, but she was already close. He could tell by the way she gripped his hair. How her moans grew more frequent but softer in volume. How she rocked her hips against his face, trying to ride his tongue to her peak.

  With his other hand, he gripped her hip and encouraged her movements, guiding her forward and back as he pleasured her with his mouth. She might not be his anywhere but right there, but that was okay. It had to be for now. As long as she gave him every bit of herself when they were together like this, he’d make do. And, while he did that, he’d make damn sure he wrung every ounce of pleasure from her before he ever let her leave his company.

  Needing to get inside her before he combusted, he sucked her clit into his mouth and fluttered his tongue against it at the same time he pumped his fingers inside her to push her over the edge. She gripped his head in her hands as she moaned low through her release, trying to stifle the sound while biting her lip. Christ, what he wouldn’t give to hear her scream his name again.

  Soon.

  He was so worked up, so hungry for her, he couldn’t even wait to bring her down. With a final kiss to her pussy, he gently set her leg back on the ground and stood. Goddamn, did he love how proper she looked from the waist up, suit jacket and blouse perfectly pressed, not a strand of hair out of place. But the bottom half told another story. Quivering legs, no panties, a rucked-up skirt, and thighs red from beard burn.

  “Not quite sure how, but you get sweeter every damn time.” He grabbed a condom from his wallet, thankful he’d had the foresight to add a couple just in case, and pushed down his shorts enough to free his cock. Rolled the latex down his length, giving it a quick tug. “Your legs tired, sweetness? Why don’t you come on up here and let me do all the work?” He settled in front of her, cupped her ass, and hauled her up against him, moaning when her wet heat met his aching hardness.

  “How do you get me to do this?” she asked, her voice breathless and questioning, even as she hooked her ankles at the small of his back. Even as she groaned in his ear when he ran the head of his cock over her clit. “You make me forget everything.”

  He pressed his forehead to her neck and notched his cock at her entrance. Hearing those words, feeling her heat and desire for him, was nearly his undoing. Lips pressed to her collarbone, he clutched her hips and pulled her down on him. Inch by excruciatingly blissful inch. “Then we’re even, because you make me lose my mind, Willowtree. Every goddamn time.”

  Unable to hold back a second longer, he gripped her hips, making sure to keep his hands between the wall and her skin, and thrust hard. Slammed into her over and over again until he didn’t know where he ended and she began. Didn’t want to.

  “Missed you,” he mumbled into her neck, kissing every inch he could reach. “Missed you so fucking much. You feel how perfect we fit together? You feel that?” He slid deep and rotated his hips against her. “Tell me.”

  “Yes,” she breathed, her lips brushing his ear. Her fingernails dug into his neck, her legs tight around his thrusting hips, like she was holding on for dear life. “Yes, Finn. I’ve always felt it.”

  And that was the real kicker. They’d both felt this thing between them, had since day one. The difference ten years brought, though, was he’d been around enough to know how rare what they had was. The kind of connection they shared didn’t come around but once in a lifetime. And he’d thrown it away.

  Not again.

  “Finn…Finn,” she whispered, her pussy fluttering around his cock as she pulled him to her. Pulled him as close as he could get and fixed her mouth against his.

  He fucked her deeper as he brushed his tongue against hers, thrust into her harder as he worked them both toward their peaks. And when she crested, pulling him right along with her, he knew he couldn’t leave again.

  He didn’t know what he’d have to do. Didn’t know how the hell he’d make it happen, didn’t even know if she’d welcome him back, but one thing was certain—he was staying. Even if he had to sell his soul to the devil himself, he wasn’t leaving again. Not Havenbrook, and certainly not Willow.

  Willow’s plan had gone straight to hell. Though, really, that wasn’t necessarily true. She hadn’t intended to stop seeing Finn entirely, but she definitely also hadn’t intended she’d be sneaking off to all sorts of illicit locations just so they could slip in some kisses and mild groping. It was like they were teenagers all over again. Next thing she knew, they’d be driving out to Old Mill Road and fogging up the windows of his truck like they’d done dozens of times before.

  Though she couldn’t say she’d mind. Fogging up the windows with Finn had always been worth it back then, and it sure as hell would be worth it now. The man had definitely learned a thing or two while he’d been gone, and Willow was basking in the near-constant glow from being on the receiving end of it.

  She wasn’t going to think about that now, though, as she sat at her desk in the middle of the day waiting for her family to show up for their weekly lunch date. She could go her whole life without having to explain her flushed complexion to her momma or gran, so thinking about Finn was strictly off-limits.

&n
bsp; Her office door swung open, making her startle as if she’d been…well, as if she’d been thinking wholly inappropriate thoughts in a work setting.

  Mac popped her head in. “Hey. Nat call yet?”

  Willow cleared her throat and willed her red cheeks to recede. At least it’d been Mac who’d happened on her first. Her sister knew every steamy detail of her encounters with Finn—and had ripped Willow a new one for not telling her about them immediately—so Willow’s train of thought would come as no surprise.

  “No, not yet.” As soon as the words left Willow’s mouth, a trill came from the computer, indicating an incoming Skype call.

  “Perfect timing.” Mac tossed her purse on one of the chairs before scooting around next to Willow and perching on top of the desk.

  Willow clicked to answer the call and waited for their youngest sister’s face to fill the screen. Ever since Natalie had moved away—which had been the day she’d graduated high school—they’d done these weekly chats. The Haven women—her gran, momma, and sisters—had always gotten together for weekly luncheons, and had done so for as long as Willow could remember. Seemed it was the one tradition Nat didn’t hate.

  Of course you’d never catch her actually at one of those luncheons, and she always timed the calls so she could avoid talking to the whole group. Willow was pretty sure it wasn’t their momma or gran Nat had an aversion to, though. If Willow had to bet money on it, she’d guess Nat called at those particular times to avoid Rory—those two mixed about as well as oil and water.

  “Hey, bitches. What’s up?” Nat said before Willow could greet her.

  “Blue this time?” Mac asked, leaning down and squinting at their sister’s mass of hair. “Shit, Nat, if you keep this up, you’re not going to have any hair left to color.”