my bra cups down.
I have a half second to think—bad idea—and then his fingers are on me, plucking at my nipples, and I groan, arching into him. His lips skim down my neck, nibbling, and I go limp against the wall, braced by the knee between my legs, and his body holding me up, his hands pinning me there.
He pinches my nipple, and I shudder, almost coming off the damn wall. Wet heat wraps around it. I swallow a scream. Every nerve comes alive as Finn traces my nipple then sucks gently.
He thrusts his knees against me, and I move, rubbing against him as he works me over. With every brush of his teeth, every pull of his mouth on my nipple, twist of his fingers, and thrust of his leg, everything in me coils tighter, until I can barely see, all I can do is feel. His hand leaves my nipple, and I almost scream, teetering on the edge. His hand catches mine, jerks it between us, to cup his erection. I gasp as he rocks into my touch. I open my eyes and look at him.
I expect him to be closed off, his eyes vacant or closed. Anything but what I see.
Finn is staring at me, his gaze hot and demanding, taking in every twitch of pleasure as his fingers caress me and his body rocks against mine. I can see the hunger in his eyes, and then he twists, and his knee hits me again, just right. I can’t see anything as the orgasm hits me, hard. I shudder, pleasure sweeping over me in endless waves, and the world spins—it actually motherfucking spins.
When I can breath—when the tremors ease and I can move without twitching in remembered pleasure—I open my eyes to find myself on the bed. Finn has his back to me, his shoulders hunched as if expecting me to start screaming.
What just happened hits me, and I take a breath.
“Get dressed. We’ll leave in the morning,” he says.
I open my mouth, to ask where, to ask anything. And then I close it again, because there isn’t anything to say.
I crawl off the bed and grab a t-shirt off the top of my bag. Finn is very careful to keep his back to me as I strip out of my bra and pants, redressing quickly in the new t-shirt.
My panties are wet. It’s all I can think about as I curl in my corner of the bed. Finn flicks the light out, and the room is plunged into darkness and a new level of tension.
As I lie in the darkness and listen to Finn’s steady breathing, I can smell the scent of sex. On me, and him, and the air. I flush and twist to get comfortable.
What will this strange partnership be like now? What the hell came over him, that he would do that? Is it that he’s bored and I’m the only girl readily available? Finn hates me—I’m something he was saddled with, a burden he’s carrying because of a loyalty to my brother. So what was this?
I don’t have answers. As usual, with Finn, I only have a lot of unanswered questions.
And the unavoidable knowledge that no one—not Dustin—ever made me feel like that before.
Chapter 23. The Familiar Road
“I could come.”
The words shift through the small room, and Finn pauses in the middle of shouldering his sword. Looks at Ansliey with curious and unsurprised eyes. “You are a Warden, sir. Leaving isn’t really an option, especially since we have no idea when we’ll be back this way.”
Disappointment shadows the Warden’s face, and I think I understand.
“They need you,” I say softly. Finn stiffens. “The Haven is in danger—if you aren’t here, it will fall. You’re a war vet—you can help prevent that.”
“Or I can go down with a dying Haven,” he says, his voice bitter.
“You are their best chance for survival. Would you take that from the entire Haven?”
He snorts. “The Haven is run by politicians with little time for a war vet who is more crazy than he is cautious. They won’t listen to me—and I’ll let the Haven fall before I give the infects a chance at me.”
Finn hesitates, and I look at him. He’s ignored me all morning, ignored the tension that spikes whenever we brush against each
Legs McNeil, Jennifer Osborne, Peter Pavia