All the Way

by Proby, Kristen

  Finally.

  “She’s very nice.” I don’t know what else to say. This is the first time we’ve been alone without Gabby being nearby or needing Finn’s attention and I’m kind of nervous, if the giant butterflies in my stomach are to be believed.

  “I like her,” he says with a smile, walking slowly toward me. “I have some things for you.”

  “More than one thing?”

  “Yes.”

  I smile brightly. “I have a love/hate relationship with presents.”

  “Do you?”

  I nod.

  “How so?”

  “Well, I’m human, so presents are fun.”

  His lips twitch.

  “But sometimes gifts come with strings attached.”

  His eyes narrow before he takes my hand and leads me into a formal dining room. The table is set with white china and teal linens. Candles are placed around the room and are lit.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  He disappears for a second and comes back with the flowers from the living room.

  “These are for you.”

  I sigh and bury my nose in a pink rose, breathing in the scent of them. “Thank you.”

  “No strings attached with these, they’re just beautiful and remind me of you. Do you mind if I put them on the table?”

  “Of course not.”

  He centers them on the beautifully decorated table and then takes my hand and leads me to the kitchen, which smells delicious.

  “I’ve already started cooking,” he informs me, and pulls out a stool so I can sit and watch while he continues to work. “I have appetizers done.”

  He pulls a plate out of the oven and sets it before me, then pulls his phone out, taps the screen, and soft music magically fills the air.

  It’s pretty damn romantic.

  “Clam-and-Gouda-stuffed mushrooms. I also have a charcuterie board with cheeses, meats, nuts, and olives.”

  “There’s going to be more food after this?” I stare in amazement at the beautiful array of food, and don’t know where to start.

  “Of course, but we can take our time.” He winks at me. “Are you hungry?”

  “Yes. Have you noticed that all we seem to do when we’re together is eat?”

  “Oh, I think that’s about to change,” he says, and pulls some steaks out of the fridge. “How was your voice lesson?”

  “It was fun. She has a good voice.” I pop an olive in my mouth, and then take some salami and cheese. “This is delicious.”

  “Is it?”

  “Come here.”

  He does as I ask, circling the island to stand next to me, just the way he did yesterday at my house. I offer him some cheese and salami, and he takes the bite directly from my fingers, letting his tongue rest on the pad of my thumb for a moment.

  “Delicious,” he murmurs, then reaches for a mushroom and holds it up to my lips. I watch him as I take a bite, then let my eyes slide closed as the flavors cover my tongue.

  “Oh, that’s good.”

  He leans in and kisses my bare shoulder.

  “You know how those noises affect me.”

  “I can’t help it, you keep feeding me wonderful things.”

  His fingertips wander up and down my arms, making my nipples pucker in anticipation.

  “Are you hungry for dinner?”

  I shake my head no.

  “Excellent.”

  He leaves me long enough to return the supplies he’d pulled out back to the fridge, and then joins me, boosting me onto the countertop so I’m closer to him.

  “I’m real sick and tired of keeping my hands off you, London.”

  “I don’t remember receiving the memo that said you have to keep your hands off me.” I hook my foot behind his leg and urge him closer to me.

  “I want you.”

  “I’m right here.”

  “Once I start, I’m not going to stop.”

  “Is that a warning?”

  “A promise.”

  I grin and drag my fingers down his cheek. “No objections, Counselor.”

  Rather than kiss me, his lips land on my neck, where he nibbles and licks his way to my collarbone, making me moan in delight.

  “If at any time this makes you uncomfortable, or hurts your leg, I need you to talk to me.”

  “I’m a talker,” I assure him, and grip onto the hair at the back of his head, willing him to never stop the magic that’s happening to my neck. He cups my breast over my tank top and flicks his thumb over my nipple, making me bite my lip.

  I pull his shirt out of his shorts so I can finally touch the smooth skin there over rock-hard abs. My finger slips between the waistband of his shorts and his skin, and I run it back and forth, making him groan.

  “You’re making me crazy, baby.”

  “Isn’t that the point?”

  His hand glides up my thigh, inside where my core is pulsing with need, and his fingertips brush gently over my shorts, where I need him the most.

  “You’re so damn warm.”

  “And wet.”

  “Fuck.”

  Chapter Five

  ~London~

  He lifts me off the island and carries me into the living room, where he lays me down on the couch and kneels beside me, his hands all over me, as if he’s playing a treasured instrument.

  “I need better access to you,” he says, and tugs my tank over my head, tosses it over his shoulder, and pauses to nuzzle my breasts over my bra. “You have great breasts.”

  “Small.”

  “Responsive.” He watches the nipple pucker under the fabric. I arch my back and he unfastens the bra, then tosses that over his shoulder as well, making me laugh. “Fuck, look at you.”

  I’d rather look at Finn as his eyes roam up and down my torso. He lays his hand over my sternum and then glides down over my navel. I’m slender, but my muscles have lost some of their definition.

  From the look on his face, he doesn’t mind in the least.

  “I took my shirt off, now it’s your turn.”

  His lips twitch with amusement as he grips the shirt between his shoulder blades and gives it a tug, pulling it over his head in that sexy way that men do, and I’m met with bronze, smooth, sexy male skin.

  My hand roams over his chest and down his stomach. I can’t stop touching him. He leans over me, so my hand slides over his side to his back and his lips lock on a nipple, making my back arch in response.

  “Oh, damn,” I moan. He alternates from sucking and biting to gently rubbing his tongue over it. It’s making me crazy, and this is just a nipple. I can’t even imagine what it would feel like if he paid the same attention to my pussy.

  Just the thought of it has me scissoring my legs in anticipation.

  We both still have our shorts on. My panties are certainly soaked through, and his cock is straining against the material of his shorts.

  I want to scream, Let’s get this show on the road! Fuck me!

  But before I can, he lifts me in his arms again and carries me up the stairs to his bedroom.

  I haven’t been in here before, so I try to get a look around before he lowers me to the bed.

  It’s a massive room, with large wood furniture and masculine linens.

  It looks like him.

  He sets me down on the bed and his brown eyes, hot with lust and need, glide over my body. He hooks his fingers into my shorts at my hips and pulls them, along with my panties, down my legs, and tosses them aside.

  With his gaze holding mine, he shuffles out of his shorts and, from the end of the bed, crawls up to join me.

  But rather than covering me with his body, he lays his hands on my thighs.

  “Where should I avoid touching your leg?”

  I point to the area that gives me the most trouble, and he presses an openmouthed kiss there before spreading my legs wide, opening me up to him.

  “You are wet,” he says, and slips his finger through the wetness, over my lips and clit. I bite
my lip and arch my hips at the same time, silently begging him for more.

  “Please.”

  “Please what?”

  I chuckle and grip his hair in my fist, urging him closer.

  “I want to hear the words, baby.”

  “Kiss me.”

  He plants a kiss on my inner thigh. “Here?”

  “No.”

  He kisses my hip. “Here?”

  “You know that’s not where I want you.”

  He blows on my center, but presses a kiss as high up on my thigh as he can go without kissing my pussy.

  “Here?” His voice is a gruff whisper now, and I can only shake my head and grip on to the sheets at my hips. “Fuck, you smell good.”

  Finally, finally, his tongue grazes over my hard clit, and down into my folds, and I let out a long, lusty moan as his mouth does things to me that could possibly be illegal in some states.

  Maybe even this state.

  He pulls my lips into his mouth, hollows his cheeks, and makes a pulsing motion that sends me into a tailspin. My hips are bucking and grinding against him, so hard that he has to cup my ass in his hands to keep me still while he has his way with me.

  He presses his thumb against my clit and I come apart, the sky explodes, and I cry out as the orgasm consumes me, until I’m nothing but an exhausted heap when he replaces his mouth with his fingers and climbs over me. I feel him reach to the side of the bed and hear the tear of a condom packet.

  “Open your eyes, London.”

  He’s leaning over me, resting on his elbow with one hand in my hair while he takes care of protecting us both with the other. His pelvis is cradled against mine, and his long, hard dick is slipping back and forth against me, reigniting the tingles and sexual energy from a few moments ago.

  “I need to be inside you,” he says with a whisper. The head of his cock is poised at my very ready pussy. He kisses me gently and my hands roam down his back to his firm ass. “I can’t wait to feel you.”

  “Now,” I murmur. “Inside me now.”

  He needs no further invitation. He presses gently and slides effortlessly into my slick opening, pausing when he’s balls-deep, and tips his forehead against mine.

  “Jesus Christ,” he mutters.

  “London,” I correct him, and bite his shoulder, which triggers his hips into motion, moving in a long, slow pattern of in and out, pressing against my clit with his pubis every time he’s sunk as deep as he can go.

  We’re nothing but sweaty limbs and heavy breaths and pure lust as he picks up the pace, kissing me deeply as he tips me right over the edge into another orgasm so all-consuming, I don’t know where he ends and I begin.

  And I don’t fucking care.

  When I begin to feel my extremities again, Finn rolls off me, keeping me with him and tucking me against his side. We’re still panting. I’m pretty sure I’m glowing.

  “Hungry?” he asks.

  “So hungry,” I confirm, and pull away to start searching for my clothes, but he pulls me back to him and kisses me softly.

  “Thank you,” he murmurs.

  “I think I’m the one who came two or three times, so I should be thanking you.” I kiss his cheek and roll away, reach for my shorts and pull them on, then simply laugh. “I guess I’ll just walk downstairs topless, because I think that’s where you left my tank.”

  “It’s going to be a hardship to watch you walk around my house like that,” he says as he also pulls on his shorts, takes my hand, and leads me to the stairs. They don’t hurt my leg as badly as they did even a week ago, which makes me ridiculously happy. Once I’m back in my bra and tank, we go back to the kitchen and I devour three pieces of cheese, five olives, and a handful of cashews before Finn has the opportunity to take the steaks back out of the oven.

  “You are hungry,” he says with a laugh.

  “Worked up an appetite,” I reply with my mouth full.

  “I’d better get these on the grill, then. You stay here.”

  I happily boost myself onto a stool and continue munching on the appetizers he made. I can see him through the glass on his deck, standing over the grill in that confident way that men do, wielding a huge spatula while smoke billows around him.

  How is it possible that just about everything Finn does is sexy? I mean, he’s a human being, so there has to be something that will annoy me. Maybe he puts the toilet paper on the thingie wrong. Or doesn’t order butter on his popcorn.

  What kind of a monster does that?

  I’ve consumed half of the mushrooms when he comes back inside and checks on something in the oven.

  “How do you like your steak?” he asks.

  “Medium. How do you like your popcorn?”

  He turns and frowns in confusion. “Sorry?”

  “If you were to go to the movies, how do you order your popcorn?”

  He blinks. “Why do I think this is a trick question?”

  I smirk and shrug.

  “With butter?”

  “Is that the real answer, or what you think I want to hear?”

  “This is more pressure than taking the bar,” he says, and rubs his hand over his face. “I have them put butter in the middle and on top.”

  “Cool.”

  He laughs and leans in for a smacking kiss. “Why do I feel like I just passed some kind of test?”

  “Because you did.” I eat another olive. To my surprise, Finn takes my hand and guides me off of the stool, then pulls me into his arms to slow-dance with me in his kitchen. “You’re a good dancer.”

  “Mom insisted when I was a kid.” He’s holding my hand properly, his other hand is holding the small of my back firmly, and he’s smoothly guiding me around the room. “Is this okay?”

  “It’s great.” And I’m thrilled to discover that it’s true. My leg isn’t bothering me at all. I haven’t danced in months, and this is the best gift Finn could have given me.

  “You’re pretty good at this too,” he says. “It’s nice to dance with someone who doesn’t step on my feet.”

  “Many, many years of dance under my belt.” He twirls me out from him, and then back, holding me closer to his chest. When Adele’s song comes to an end, he dips me back dramatically, and then kisses me until I see stars.

  That may have been the best dance of my life.

  “Perfect timing to flip the steaks,” he says, and hurries outside to tend to the grill, and I’m left breathing heavily, my body singing in response to him, wondering how it is that I was lucky enough to have him walk into my life.

  Just then, my phone pings on the kitchen counter with a text. Expecting it to be Sasha, I happily pick it up and then frown when I see it’s from a number I don’t recognize.

  You’re such a bitch! I can’t believe Mom and Dad left it all to you and I got jack shit. You need to give me some money, L. I’m broke, and I don’t have anywhere to go. This is your fault, and you need to fix it.

  I sigh and block the number, then delete the message. This is not new. Over the past ten years, my brother has threatened, begged, manipulated, and guilt-tripped me and my parents into giving him many thousands of dollars to feed his drug habit.

  I promised myself, and my parents, that I wouldn’t do it anymore.

  He’s been offered a way out, and he refused. I can’t, for my own sanity, micromanage him anymore. He doesn’t want my help, he wants a handout, and I just can’t.

  I can’t.

  Finn walks back in as I set my phone down, and sees the tremble in my fingers.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I shake my head, but he sets the steaks down and leans on the countertop, facing me.

  “You did that to me yesterday when I asked you what was bothering you, and I let it pass, but I’m not going to do that this time. This isn’t just sex for me, London. I don’t know where it might lead, but as far as I’m concerned, I’m in something important here, and that means that it’s not all jokes and sexual attraction. I sincerely want to know
when something is hurting or bothering you.”

  Okay. He makes sense. As much as it would make things simpler, it’s not just sex for me either, and I would want the same from him. So, I take a deep breath and give him the truth.

  “My brother texted.” He narrows his eyes and keeps listening. “I’d show it to you, but I deleted it. I blocked the number.”

  “What did he say?”

  His voice is hard, like the day in his office.

  “That I need to give him money because I owe him.” I shrug and then rub my hands over my face. “Of course I won’t send him anything, and he knows what to do to get his inheritance.”

  “Do you want to talk about this? If it’s not something you want to share, it’s okay.”

  “Honestly, I don’t feel a lot toward him anymore, which is maybe the saddest part of all. We only have each other now, since our parents are gone, but unless something radical happens and he’s willing to make some drastic life changes, he just isn’t allowed to be in my life.

  “Kyle always had a mean streak, even when we were kids. So, it’s not like we were super close and then he became an addict and screwed it all up. He never hurt me, and I still believe that he wouldn’t physically hurt me, not when he’s sober anyway. But he’s the kind of person who gets a kick out of someone hurting. Like, if I didn’t get a part I wanted, he’d laugh. That sort of thing.

  “And then the drugs started. At first it was alcohol when he was a teenager, and I don’t think he’s ever been sober since. I’m honestly surprised he’s lived this long.”

  “Me too,” Finn says.

  “My parents made excuses for him for a long time. Especially my mom. Until finally, after they’d given him seventy-five thousand dollars for rehab and he disappeared with it and just blew it all, probably up his nose or in a vein, they cut him off. I’ve never seen my mom so devastated.”

  “So the will didn’t surprise you.”

  “Oh no. Not at all. And I don’t feel guilty.”

  “You shouldn’t.”

  “But five, or even two years ago I would have. And now I’m just numb when it comes to him. He’s a manipulator, and he’s toxic. So no, he isn’t welcome in my life. I do hope he gets help before it kills him, but I wouldn’t bet the farm on it.”

  “That’s a tough position to be in,” he says as he plates our dinners. It smells and looks absolutely delicious. “I know your father struggled with his decision to have Kyle removed from the will.”