Page 40 of Falling for Finn

“It’s not my fault you don’t know how to land properly.” Finn shrugs. “Sebastian and I did it dozens of times without getting hurt. You’re being dramatic.”

“I wasseven!” Jessa defends, and I burst out laughing. “You were a little instigator, calling me a baby and making me feel like I had to keep up with you two.”

“That’s mean,” I admit. “How old were you?”

“He’s six years older than me, so he would’ve been thirteen. My brother was only nine but did whatever this little asshole said.” She nods toward Finn.

“I bet you have tons of stories from growing up here,” I say, genuinely curious.

“Dozens. Too bad you aren’t staying longer. We could hang out with some hard cider, and I could tell you all about it.”

“We might need to make that happen…” I glance at Finn, who’s shaking his head.

Finn and I finish eating, and Jessa excuses herself. Aspen’s long gone, and then it’s the two of us.

“Ready? I gotta get to work, and I assume you do too.”

As soon as Finn delivers me to his house, I dive into my painting.

I blast some instrumental music and hyper focus on finalizing the piece. Once I’m happy with all the final touches, I set it aside to dry and immediately begin another. I want to paint the inn because the architecture intrigues me. Since Finn is keeping the sunrise I painted this morning, I’ll give this one to his grandmother as an extra thank-you.

After several hours, I’m covered in paint and sweat. While the main canvas dried, I decided to add some extra colors to the leaves, then return to the inn painting. I add the apple orchard behind it and as many details as possible. I’m pleased with it and can’t wait to present it to her.

Deciding to take a shower, I strip off my clothes and turn on some calming spa music. I have no idea when Finn will return, so I take my time exfoliating, shaving, and relaxing under the hot stream. The window fogs up, but when I wipe it with my hand, I can see the beautiful line of trees behind his house.

My heart jumps into my throat when the bathroom door bursts open. Next, Finn barrels in through the shower curtain and then closes it behind him, maneuvering himself under the water.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I quickly cover my chest as I lower my eyes down his sculpted body, admiring every inch of his hard muscles and the tattoos on his arms.

“You’ve been in here for almost an hour, and I had no more patience. Other people need to shower, too.” He lowers his head, then scrubs his hands through his hair.

“And nicely asking me to hurry up wasn’t an option?”

“You’ve used enough of the hot water.”

“Like I said, you could’ve knocked and let me know you were waiting. I had no clue you were home.” My anger brews as I watch him lather soap and wash across his broad chest.

“Well, now you do, and you can help yourself out of my bathroom.”

Is he fucking kidding me right now?

I drop my arms, no longer feeling the need to cover myself. “What’s your damn problem? Why are you hot and cold with me? Why do you treat me like a nuisance one second and then carry me into your bed the next? You hold me all night and then tell me I’m a pain in the ass by morning. I’m so tired of your games!”

“This isn’t a game,” he snaps and meets my eyes. They’re dark and hooded, like he’s ready for a fight.

He steps toward me until my back presses against the shower wall. With his palms on either side of my head, Finncages me in. “I didn’t want you sleeping on the couch because I know it’s uncomfortable, and Ilikehaving you sleep next to me. Even if you’re a pain in my ass, I crave your warmth and being close to you. And for whatever fucking reason, I can’t get you out of my goddamn head. You’ve embedded yourself under my skin, and now I think about kissing you every time I’m around you. Not only for the sake of keeping up appearances but because I need to taste you.”

My breath hitches as his lips brush mine, and he whispers softly, “And even though I shouldn’t, I’m losing the willpower to keep my distance.”

His erection jabs into my lower stomach, but when he palms his shaft and strokes himself, it pushes against my clit.

“Tell me to walk away, Oakley.”

I can hear the strain in his voice, but I can’t do it.

“Or you could give in to what we both want and need,” I suggest, moaning when the tip of his cock rubs over my clit again.

His other hand cups my breast and plays with my nipple. “Fuck.”

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