Free Chasing the Wild Sparks by Ren Alexander Page A

breath caresses my neck and shoulders.
    “Your fans think you’re available.”
    “I’m not available.”
    “They don’t know that.”
    “I don’t care.”
    “I do.”
    “Why, baby? We are together. That’s all that matters to me.” He moves his fingers around, pushing his tips inside me. My grip on the counter amplifies.
    I wearily sigh. “You’re making this hard.”
    “Well, you’ve made me hard.” He proves his point by lightly thrusting against my lower back. He uses his index finger to apply pressure and rub against my clitoris in a circular motion. “I want to feel you, Becks.” He brushes his bristly chin against the side of my forehead, moving my bangs around as he does.
    “You are,” I state matter-of-factly.
    “You know what I mean,” he whispers. He takes his hand from my waist and drags my hair to my other shoulder and again commences sucking on that side of my neck as his fingers keep moving around and around inside me. He pauses his sweeping lips to mumble, “I don’t want to use a condom.” He recommences and lightly bites at my collar bone.
    “Mmm,” is all I can articulate under the assault of his fingers and mouth.
    He asks, “Are we okay to go without?”
    “I think so.”
    “Did you already put the other one in?”
    “Yes.” He boosts the pressure and the speed of his strokes. “I’m on top of it,” I breathe.
    “I’d rather you be on top of me,” he says into my ear. He trails his teeth down my neck; his breath quick and searing my skin.
    I heatedly whisper, “Finnigan.” He groans against my throat, his tongue sending shivers through every inch of me and heightening the feel of his persistent fingers.
    “Baby,” he says, his voice sounding forlorn, “I need you.”
    “You have me, if you want me.”
    “I do want you, Becks.”
    “How much do you want me, Finn? I’m not sure anymore if you do.” His fingers immediately still and then abruptly, he removes them from inside me. His arm drops from my waist and he spins me around, ripping my aching fingers from the countertop. He pins me against the sink, trapping me with his arms and his leather-clad body. Leaning closer to me, his deep voice is filled with terse apprehension as he demands, “Where in the hell did you get that idea?” Finn’s fiery gaze ensnares mine and we stare at each other in thick silence. His lips are pursed and his jaw begins to twitch on both sides. He’s pissed again?
    I swallow and try to look away, but he reaches up and feverishly pulls my chin so that I have to look at him.
    “What are you talking about? Why would you even say that?” he contends.
    “You don’t talk about me with anyone. You don’t want to be seen in public with me.”
    “That’s not true,” he declares vehemently.
    I argue, “Except for today, it seems that way any other time. Today you were…different.”
    “Different? How?”
    “You acted like you really did want to be seen with me in front of people this time. You held my hand, you hugged me and you even kissed me first. You never do that.”
    He glowers at me. “I kiss you in front of people.”
    “Only if we’re not anywhere you’d be recognized.”
    He clenches his teeth and growls, “Becks, come on!” He hangs his head between us and sighs in frustration before sharply raising his head to look at me again. “Please. Let’s not do this now, ” he implores.
    “Don’t you want to know what I’m thinking?” I look into his eyes. What is he thinking? Does he really want me or does he only want to use me to get himself off?
    “Yes, I do, but at the moment, I don’t want to fight with you.”
    “I’m not fighting with you. I just want some answers.” Tell me, Finn.
    “I gave them to you.”
    “No you didn’t. You keep skirting around answering my questions.” I take a deep breath before asking, “Are you ashamed of me?” That would kill me.
    His voice rises. “ Ashamed of you?”
    “That’s the feeling I get. Nobody in