Like Gravity(78)

Finn smashed his right fist angrily into the palm of his left hand, his face cloudy with rage and his eyes far away; it wasn’t hard to guess exactly whose face he was imagining that fist smashing into. In fact, part of me was worried that he was seconds away from tracking down Gordon and extracting his own vigilante version of justice.

“Come here,” I said, stretching out a hand to him. When his fingers twined through mine, I gave his hand a sharp tug, catching him off balance and sending him stumbling forward toward me onto the bed. After regaining his balance, he settled in next to me, though his expression remained distant with thoughts of Gordon and revenge.

“Finn,” I said, snapping a finger in front of his face. His eyes flew to mine. “You can’t kill him, caveman. Haven’t you heard? Pretty boys like you don’t do well in prison.”

His lips turned up in a small, involuntary smile. I was getting to him.

“You’d end up with a 350 pound roommate named ‘Tiny,’ who’d totally take the top bunk and make you his bitch.”

His eyes narrowed, but I could tell he was fighting a laugh.

“Oh, hey, do you know what prisoner’s use to contact each other?” I asked him.

He raised one dark eyebrow at me skeptically.

“Cell phones. Get it?” I elbowed him in the stomach for emphasis.

The dimple popped out, and I knew I had him. Soon, his small smile turned into a grin, and then to full blown laughter as he processed my pun.

“And you said my jokes were terrible…” he gasped out, trying to catch his breath.

“Whatever,” I shrugged. “Mission accomplished.”

“And what mission would that be?”

“Well, since you haven’t yet left to go kill Gordon, I’d say my efforts to detain you are succeeding.”

“I don’t know about that,” he muttered, the smile fading from his expression. “That guy better pray he doesn’t cross my path. I’ve been thinking about it all night.”

“Well, I’ll just have to take your mind off him then,” I said, abruptly sitting up fully in the bed and allowing the comforter to fall down around my waist. Finn had evidently forgotten about the fact that I was completely naked beneath the covers; his eyes immediately fixed on my breasts and I watched with more than a little satisfaction as his eyes dilated at the sight of them.

“Mission accomplished,” he echoed softly, moving closer to me on the bed. Reaching out his hands, he gently palmed my breasts, and I nearly moaned at the sensation of his guitar-calloused fingers against my skin. Arching into his touch, I closed my eyes and felt the whisper-soft brush of Finn’s lips across my own.

When he captured my mouth with his, need flared hotly between us. While he used his hands on me, I trailed my own down the planes of his muscular chest, delighting in the feel of his rippled abs against my fingertips. Pulling my mouth away from his, my eyes sprang open and I began to trace my fingers along the tribal whorls of ink on his bicep and shoulder. When my fingers had fully navigated the maze of his tattoo, I lowered my mouth to the design and began to follow the same path with my tongue, as I’d long wanted to do.

Finn growled low in his throat, evidently enjoying my exploration of his body art. When I’d finished with his arm, my mouth traveled up over his shoulder and collarbone, down the slope of his chest, and finally to his stomach, leaving a trail of damp, open-mouthed kisses behind. As my lips neared the waistline of Finn’s jeans, he gently reached down and pulled me back up to eye level.

After a lingering, fierce kiss, he stared into my eyes. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.

I knew what he meant. After what had almost happened to me tonight, it was probably odd that I felt this consuming need to be with Finn. I didn’t want to overthink it, though. I didn’t want to think period. I just wanted to feel.

I looked into Finn’s eyes, hoping my answer was apparent in their depths. “I’m sure,” I said. “I want you to erase him, Finn. I need you to.”

At my words, a tender look came into his eyes. “I will, princess. I promise.”

Kissing me sweetly, he used his hands and his mouth over every part of me, eradicating any thoughts of my attacker from even the darkest corners of my mind. When he finally rid himself of his jeans and braced himself over my body, Finn stared down at me as if he’d never seen anything more beautiful.

“I love you, Brooklyn,” he breathed, as he slid slowly inside me. “I always have.”

I gasped, both at the feeling of him and at his words. Wrapping my arms and legs around him as tightly as I could, I matched his rhythm. We were perfectly in sync, moving together as one, and I could feel something building inside me, more powerful than anything I’d ever experienced.

He loves me.

My hips lifted to his, faster and faster as we climbed toward release.

He loves me.

My fingernails dug into his back as I tried to press us even closer.

He loves me.

My back arched off the bed and a scream built in my throat.

When I exploded into my orgasm, I cried out so loudly I would have been embarrassed if Finn hadn’t been right there with me, yelling my name as he came. Together, we climaxed into a powerful, passionate release that I knew, for however long I lived, I’d never forget.

Afterward, Finn pulled me up to lie against his chest so he wasn’t crushing me or putting any weight on my injuries. With his warm, strong arms wrapped around me, I was safe. I was loved. And I was happier than I could ever remember being.