No, no. This couldn’t happen. He grabbed for her wrist, but she complained with a grunt and claimed her advantage. His whole body jerked when her fingers wrapped around his erection.
He made some sort of dissenting sound. Maybe a grunt or a growl. Because his brain was melting, there was no way to be certain.
Running from the room became a viable option, and he almost acted on the impulse—right until the moment that her lips touched his chest. She pressed a few wet kisses on his skin that made his heart hammer. He didn’t register that she was on the move until she threw the covers back and kissed a path to his belly button.
When her questing fingers started an intimate exploration of his balls, Finn hit the wall going a hundred miles an hour.
“Remington,” he growled in warning.
Her answer was to nip his side and make him shudder.
Before he realized it, his cock was exposed to the air, and her hand moved with languid sureness, stroking and squeezing.
Finn surrendered. What else could he do? He was hard, and she was making him harder by the second. There was only so much any man could take. Instead of pushing her away, he stroked her silky hair. She purred her appreciation, and that was all there was to it.
It didn’t take much to reduce him to a quivering mess. She licked and kissed every inch—swirled her tongue on the head and made him shake.
There was no deep throating or gagging involved. He didn’t last long enough for anything like that. Her tongue licking his hard length was enough to push him to the edge. When she sucked the sensitive head of his cock and drew him into her mouth, he came undone.
Her hand fisted his hardness and jerked until he was sucked dry.
Like a good girl, she cleaned up after herself and licked him clean—even though she hadn’t missed a single drop. Tucking his happy cock back in his briefs, she kissed it through the fabric and patted his bulge. Then she wiggled and squirmed up his body and hugged him close. With a series of sweet kisses on his chest, he heard her sigh, and not long after, he felt her whole body relax as she fell asleep. A minute or two later, her soft snores made him chuckle with wonder.
He’d never seen her naked, and except for the one time he fondled her boobs, he had never touched her intimately. Finn didn’t know what to make out of her behavior. Was she even awake? Was this a dream that got very real? Or was she completely aware of what she was doing?
Sleep claimed him while he pondered the situation.
The smell of coffee made it to the shower stall as she rinsed conditioner out of her hair.
Remy’s stomach growled. What was the last thing she ate?
Oh, right. Finn. Finn was the last thing in her mouth.
She turned her face into the water, filled her mouth, and spit a stream onto the shower wall.
How did he taste? She gave the question serious thought.
First of all, he tasted big. Her tongue had a wonderful time exploring his size. Was she delighted? Fuck, yeah. No shame in Finn’s game!
Remy licked her lips and thought about what she’d done. Gawd! What got into her? She’d taken advantage of the situation and rode roughshod over his objections—not that he put up much of a fight.
It took ferocious determination to stop the onslaught of self-castigating thoughts competing for supremacy in her mind. Every single step along the memory lane of her sexual past lead nowhere good—exactly the reason she’d turned into a snarling celibate.
Exfoliating the fuck out of her legs with a scrubby sponge, she mused about sex. She didn’t hate it. But she had used sex as a weapon.
Rinsing one leg, she attacked the other as her emotions swirled.
She knew all the standards—those things people say about rape. How it was about violence and power—not a sexual act. Nice words but kind of fucked up.
Maybe what happened to her wasn’t sexual in nature—maybe it was all about the violation—but those bastards used sex as their weapon of choice and that shit left scars.
When the military chose to lend a blind eye, she was left with … nothing. They took away her chance to make those fuckers pay. To get even. Find justice.
So she took matters into her own hands and got some payback, small and emotional as it was, by being an ice slut. No feelings except anger and a blood thirst for revenge. She demeaned, humiliated, and used dozens of men. Rarely was intercourse involved, but still. Ugh. She’d acted horribly and never felt a second of remorse. The alcohol probably helped.
By the time she rolled into Bendover, her emotional well-being was on life support. The year before, she’d pulled way back and got her shit together by essentially cutting off her feelings entirely. It was the only way.
And then Finn happened.
Finn, jeez. He was such an unlikely champion, but the smirky hooligan was her hero in every sense of the word. He and he alone stood the test and never faltered. No matter what she threw at him, he remained standing.
And how did she answer his dedication to her and their relationship?
Remy stood beneath the wide showerhead with slumped shoulders. The blowjob, such as it was, had a cheap shot quality to it.
It was her own damn fault that she expected him to push after her public declaration. What she’d done by giving everyone a glimpse into her soul with that song had, in her mind, also given Finn a perfect opportunity to move their relationship to the next level. A physical level.
But damn him. Paddy taught his sons to be respectful, and wouldn’t you know it? Finn took the lesson to heart.
The thing was, though, that she was sick of being a victim. Sick of being taken care of. Her shackles finally thrown off, she was ready to jump in with both feet. The part where she underestimated Finn’s response was what led to the blowjob wrapped in a dream.
She turned the water off and sighed. Lingering in the shower wasn’t going to help. It was time to face the music.
He stared out the window. It was rolling up to seven o’clock on what should be just another workday. There was a full schedule waiting for him at Pete’s, but his mind was elsewhere. Like in the shower with Remy.
FiFi trotted by and scampered onto her doggie perch to lay in the sunshine. She walked in a circle a few times before curling into a ball. After that, she lay there and stared at him.
“Your mom is making me wicked nuts,” he told her.
Nuts. He winced at the word.
She’d become acquainted with his last night.
His dog shook her head.
“I know, right?”
For no goddamn good reason other than his mind was careening all over the place, he remembered his very first blowjob. By the time it actually happened, he had a head full of adolescent fantasies and way too much porn.
The triple-X rated movie in his head, however, did not match the actual occasion. Just like last night, he came so fast and with such a lack of control that an apology seemed necessary.
Embarrassment burned a path from the soles of his feet straight upward until the emotion flamed on his face.
He knew when the shower turned off because he was near the kitchen sink when the water system made a little noise. Nervousness swirled in his gut that his morning caffeine jolt wasn’t helping.
Food was required. On autopilot, he went to a glass covered cake stand on the island counter, lifted the heavy lid, and helped himself to a gooey cinnamon roll. Without bothering to use a dish, Finn stuffed half of it in his mouth on the first bite. Some of the sticky sugared icing clung to his mouth and smeared on his face.
Replacing the lid with a clunk, he reached for a napkin, inserted the rest of the cinnamon delight into his mouth, and wiped away the evidence. It took a bit of finger licking to get the icing situation under control, but eventually, he gave up and went to the sink.
Washing his hands in a stream of warm water, Finn reached for the pump of hand soap. It was the warm vanilla scent from Bath and Body Works. He knew this because she’d dragged him around a mall in Phoenix
working off a list of random crap as long as his arm. She’d made him smell half a dozen options until they found one he could live with.
After swiping water across his mouth, he straightened and used the hem of his T-shirt to dry.
“Morning.”
He whirled around and bumped his knee against the sink cabinet. “Fuck.” Absently rubbing the sore spot, he tried to act normal and failed miserably.
“Morning,” he scowled. “Made coffee.”
She studied him like a bug under a microscope. Somehow, and he really didn’t know how, he stood his ground and didn’t immediately fall apart.
“Finn.”
His eyes rose to hers. She looked as embarrassed as he felt.
Her cheeks flushed. “My bad. I’m sorry.”
“Remy,” he groaned with a hand scraping through his hair.
She rushed forward, taking him by surprise when her hands went to his waist and she moved in close. This was different. She was different.
“I didn’t mean to take away your power. I got carried away.”
He didn’t understand what she meant. “My power?”
“That should have been your decision. I need you to understand. I don’t want to be the man, and I know how weirdly old-fashioned that sounds, but there’s no other way to put it.”
His father had said something vaguely similar. That Remington was strong because she was so soft. The female conundrum. Ferocity wrapped in a fragile shell. She was trying to tell him that a traditional male-female power dynamic was what her heart sought. After what she’d endured, he understood why the admission was so significant. Remy wanted him to take the wheel. His heart soared.
“If that’s the case, Ms. Bisset,” he drawled with a slight smirk, “then let’s discuss terms. Grab a mug and join me at the table.”
She returned his smirk and did the cutest mock simper he’d ever witnessed in person.
“How about you make me a coffee while I sit and watch.”
“Ah, I see,” he replied with a snicker. “You’re a visual learner.”
He caught her lips for a brief kiss. “Term number one. Good morning, hello, and good night kisses. Absolutely mandatory. Understand?”
She grinned and nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now plant your bottom and observe.”
He moved around the kitchen, employing the dirty dance moves he and the other guys learned. FiFi yawned and ignored them in favor of basking in the sunlight.
Her beaming smile when he joined her at the table told him she enjoyed the show.
“Oh, crap,” she muttered after her first sip. “That’s hot as balls.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, she looked at him and blushed scarlet. It was the perfect opening to take the wheel and lay down some ground rules.
“Let’s leave the hot balls overview for another time.”
She blushed more and nodded.
He had her exactly where he wanted. Part of him couldn’t believe they’d actually made it to this point.
“Now”—he chuckled—“we begin.”
She looked confused. He wasn’t surprised.
“Begin what?” she asked.
The expression on his face matched his tone. It was a new day, and yesterday was fading in the rear view.
“Us. We begin us, darlin’. And by begin,” he added with slight emphasis, “I mean at the beginning. No end runs and a ten-yard penalty for rushing.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Remy”—he sighed—“I am in awe of you right now. What you did yesterday, what you showed everyone, showed me, that was some serious shit. Fuck, honey, you made Domineau cry, and until I saw it with my own eyes, I’d be the first one to suggest she didn’t know how.”
“She cried?”
He nodded. “To be honest, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house.”
“Oh.”
“Emotion like that needs space to breathe. We’re not rushing into anything physical. Let’s take a step back and regroup in order to understand where we’ve been and where we’re going. I’m in this to the end, Remy. Jumping into bed robs us of the dance.”
Her eyes twinkled when understanding dawned. “The dance. I like the way that sounds.”
With a gesture, he asked for her hand. She gave it willingly.
“We learn the steps together, okay? One at a time.”
Her shy smile warmed his heart. “Baby steps.”
“Yes. So that one day soon we can waltz at our wedding.”
Panic flashed on her face. He didn’t look away. It took a few seconds until he saw her accept what he was saying.
Using his, “I’m in charge” voice, he said, “So that’s how we go forward with that part of being together. Now let’s discuss practicalities.”
There was a new light shining in her beautiful eyes. When she looked down to quietly smirk, the fringe of her lashes made shadows on her cheeks.
“You sound like your dad.”
He smiled easily. She brought so much happiness to his existence.
“Compliment gratefully accepted,” he answered with a head nod. “We don’t have to decide right now, but it’s time to give serious consideration to where we want to live. This back and forth thing is fine for now but not much longer.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
Easy? Jesus Christ. Every minute of every day from the second he first laid eyes on Remington Bisset had been anything but easy.
He wasn’t going to pretend. That was not who they were.
“It’s not going to be easy. Or simple. We already know that. But together, we can handle anything.”
She studied him with a glum face. “Why are you so confident, Finn?”
“I just am. Now stop picking everything apart. It’s what you do, honey, and sometimes, it’s great. Like when you’re taking an engine apart. Attention to detail and being nitpicky is great, but with this stuff, you have to go with the flow. Feel, don’t think.”
Her half-smirk was almost apologetic. “Ay! Feel? Ha! We’re screwed.”
He wanted to linger and continue this lighthearted banter. They were discussing serious things, and for the first time, he felt they were making progress. But his gut had a different idea.
Right now, she was raw. Vulnerable. And he wasn’t sure if she recognized it yet. Here in the comfort and familiarity of his apartment, it was all well and good—and a bit awkward. But once they stepped into the world and things came rushing at them fast, he wasn’t sure how she’d react.
Deviating from their normal routine and schedule would set the day apart, and if he knew her at all, what Remy needed was normal. She hated sticking out and after her rather public confirmation that she was a real live girl, he was certain a nonstop carousel of revisits and commentary would drive her batshit.
“Unfortunately, darlin’, I have to bounce. Grey has last-minute back-to-school stuff on his hands. Getting everyone squared away for the fall term has him tied up. So I have to cover the front end and hold down the fort till Barry takes over.”
Her gaze traveled over his face and searched his eyes. She wasn’t dumb and knew perfectly well that he was intentionally keeping things light.
“Technically, it’s a holiday and a day off, but I wanted to take advantage of nobody hanging around to catch up on some paperwork. My office looks like a fire hazard from the piles of busywork I never get to.”
He had a decision to make. And it was a whole lot more than just having a say in her schedule. What was his role at this moment? Could he call for a time-out and ring up his dad for some advice?
Pushing back from the table, he cringed when his chair scraped on the floor with an annoying sound. He patted his thigh with one hand and gestured with the other.
“Come here, honey.”
She started to ask why but stopped. Her eyes darted around the kitchen. He was seeing something from her repertoire of quirks and conflicts. Lap sitting wasn’t a complete no, but it wasn’t
where she seemed the most comfortable.
Tough. He wanted her on his lap. Now.
He gestured again. She slowly moved toward him and settled with ease. Now that she was close and he could touch her, Finn made his first real move as a boyfriend with benefits. In this instance, the benefit was taking care of her whether she liked it or not.
Stroking her back until he felt her relax, he let the quiet moment carry them along before he spoke.
“No work today, Remy. Days off exist for a reason.” She had an objection at the ready, but he cut her off. “It’s a beautiful day. Stay home and relax. Maybe head out later and take some pictures. Carpe diem,” he added with a chuckle.
To his complete and utter amazement, she didn’t put a fight. None at all. He’d chosen his words with care and didn’t say I want or you should. He made gentle suggestions but left the choice up to Remy. It wasn’t about him. It was about her.
“Actually,” she began in a slightly biting tone, “there’s always laundry.”
He reflexively barked a laugh and said, “Yeah! No shit.”
“Eh, fuck the laundry. I have a better idea. I’ll take FiFi to the new dog park Brody keeps rattling on about it. He said there’s cool stuff. Sounds like a photo opportunity.”
Finn congratulated himself for winning a battle he didn’t have to fight. She waved the white flag and that was that.
“Do you wanna come to Pete’s for dinner? Grey will handle the late shift, so I can roll out any time.”
“Um, no. Since it’s my day off, I’d like to make dinner. Is that okay? Do you mind?”
Mind? Shit. He ran a kitchen for a living. Outside of business, he was more than okay to leave those details to someone else.
He broke out a smile and tenderly encouraged her domestic side.
“Dinner would be great. And if you make that bacon cheesy thing for snacking, I’ll even clean the kitchen.”
Her husky laugh filled him with pleasure. He liked this relaxed side of her personality.
“Shared the recipe with Mom. She says Dad ate the whole thing. That she barely got a nibble!”
Remy rarely spoke of her parents, and when she did, it tended to be generalities. He knew she absolutely adored both of them—especially her father—but being a closed book was how she held it together. It was monumental that she was willing to share.
Enduring (Family Justice Book 8) Page 37
