Let Me (O'Brien Family, #2)(36)

I rub my hands together, thinking about how shitty I’ve felt since she left. “Yeah, I do.”

“Finn,” he says, drawing my attention back to his face and away from the floor. “From what you’ve said, and based on how this experience with Sal has affected you, I think you want to be able to trust her in a way that’s different and more personal than the other women you’ve been intimate with. I think it means more to you, that you enjoy sex with her.”

“You’re saying I want her to make me come when she’s blowing me?” I ask.

“That’s one way to put it,” he agrees.

“But shouldn’t it be easier with her instead of harder―if what you say is true?”

“I don’t think so. Correct me if I’m wrong, but those other women you’ve had somewhat loose relationships with, they weren’t women you completely trusted, correct?”

“Oh, hell no,” I say, shuddering.

“So during times they performed oral sex, it was easier for you to detach yourself, to put up with what they were doing―likely by ignoring them. But with Sal, you’re already more attached, you already feel more toward her, thus you’re going feel more during the act―both the pleasure, and the vulnerability you don’t enjoy nor want to feel.”

“So how do I fix that?” I ask.

“You tell her,” he says like it’s that easy.

“If I tell her I don’t like head she’s going to think there’s something wrong with me.”

Good ol’ Mason doesn’t even try to deny it. “Perhaps, seeing how men are expected to enjoy it and long for it as you pointed out. But Finn, relationships―those that are more serious— require risks. You need to ask yourself if this young woman is worth taking the risk . . .”





CHAPTER 15


Sol



Damn it.

I hurry to pick up the contents of my spilled purse from the floor, then shove my iPad it into my already packed bag. Dr. Harte’s door always sticks so I have to pull on it when I lock it. I’ve always managed to hang onto my belongings before. Not today.

I rush down the hall, anxious to leave. Three hours, that’s how long it took me to catch up on my reports. If I didn’t know Finn was meeting with Mason I’d be Beyoncé strutting my way out the door, happy I finished my work. Instead I’m all but stumbling out of here with what remains of my pride.

After four days, I should feel less humiliated, shouldn’t I? That dark cloud with thunder and lightning that followed me all the way back to my place after leaving Finn’s house should be gone and nothing, but a distant memory, correct?

No. Not at all. Those stupid bolts still strike. It’s not just the embarrassment that’s been slapping me around―and believe me, that’s bad enough. Finn hurt me, totally and completely crushed me. He was that one ray of light I looked forward to. The one who caused all my silly grins and giggles.

He was also the one who rocked my world. The way he touched me . . . Oh, my God. I lost total control, thrashing with each orgasm he gave me.

I thought he liked me. It’s what he claimed. And I believed him.

Until he kicked me out of his house.

“Call me when you get home,” he told me.

No f*cking way, I didn’t say.

As it was, I cried when I finally collapsed my bed, wondering what I did wrong. It’s not like I get naked in front of just anyone. But I did with Finn because I wanted to feel close to him. And he wanted to feel close to me, too.

Or so I thought.

Every time I reason he simply didn’t want me, I remember how hard I made him by standing in front of him naked. But then I’m reminded of how uncomfortable he seemed when I touched him.

So even though it’s been days since that horrible night, I’m still tempted to crawl into the nearest hole and die. But there’s no hole, and there’s still life, so for now here I am bolting out into the main hall as fast as I can.

I step into the elevator, sighing with relief as I punch the button to the lobby. Yet my relief turns to panic when I hear steps stomping quickly forward and Mason calling, “Hold the door please!”

I can’t hit the button to shut the doors fast enough. But Mason must have been a ninja in his former life because he’s suddenly there, his hand shooting out, catching the doors before they can finish closing.

Oh, and look . . . Finn is right behind him.

“Hello,” Mason says when he sees that it’s me.

“Hi,” I spit out, averting my attention away from where Finn is standing frozen in front of us.

I edge back and to the corner, my face burning hot enough to set off the nearest smoke detector when Finn slips inside. I almost expect him to stay in the front, or march to the opposite corner―as in keep his distance the hell away from me. Instead he positions himself beside me, his back falling against the wall as he crosses his arms. “Hey,” he says.

Mason turns around, smiling politely. “Finn this is my intern Sol―”

His smile abruptly fades, his attention bouncing between my heated face and Finn’s. There are people who can pull off poker faces and then there’s us. Finn’s normally fair skin is red from his neck to his forehead. Although my skin’s olive, my blush is as bright as a woman kicked out of a man’s pad after blowing him, because hey, that’s exactly what went down.