Page 52 of Lightness In My Dark

His knee pushed between my legs, edging and prodding my core, making me moan. While he devoured my mouth, skin, his hasty hands landed on my butt, squeezing, his knee circling my most sensitive region. The demands he put on my body were about to push me over a ledge I’ve never faced before. I couldn’t let that happen now, especially this way. I clenched his arms when I broke the bond. Heavy breathing deflated.

I refused to look at him when I said, “We can’t do this.” My hands released him. “I’m sorry.”

He cupped my chin to force my eyes on him. “It’s okay, Wren.” Those words dulled the guilt I had of inviting him in and then rejecting him. “If all you can give me are these lips of yours, I’m good with that.” I offered a tentative smile. “You’re adorable.”

Finn kissed my cheek, held me close, and covered us with a blanket. At some point, we fell asleep; me listening to his heartbeat. It was the most romantic thing I had experienced up to that point in my life. The day was perfect, and in those hours of painting, I got a glimpse of the different colors of Finn. He wasn’t just black or white or shades of gray. He dabbled in different areas of the color chart, blending cool and warm colors to create distinct ones. I wanted to learn more about Finn, to dive deeper into his soul, to see if he had one specific color for me. But for the time being, I was content with what we had now—an innocent, disorderly beginning.

Chapter 23 – The Dicks

FINN

The past couple of weeks had been good between Wren and me. I’ve made it a point to be home for dinner every weeknight, and afterwards, we’d either read in the living room or watch television. I’ve noticed a shift in Wren. She didn’t seem so severe. Of course, she continued to clench around me, only to soften under my touch. Over the New Year’s holiday, my past poured out like a cracked egg, spilling everywhere, and I still was at a loss why I told her about it. It could have been an olive branch for all the shit I gave her. I admitted the noose around my neck loosened after all the years of keeping it secret. The bond to my past didn’t weigh as much.

Ever since we painted her yoga room, Wren’s demeanor slackened, and a playfulness sprouted. Her smile and laughter always affected me. It elated me, whether by unwanted emotions or horniness. To decipher the difference would get me nowhere. In my daily reveries, I relived her lips, body, what I wanted to do to her… yet she kept me at arm’s length. Wren’s general nature was enticing. How her skin colored from embarrassment when caught in wicked thoughts. Or when she assumed I wasn’t looking, and eye-fucked me. Her eyes and smile had won me over long ago, as if tethered to my dick, it turned into a slingshot around her. A thought, seeing her, or a touch, and BAM, I’m twelve-years old again, unable to control my arousal.

I adjusted myself to hide the growing need as I continued to think about her. I’m sure Wren’s parents would appreciate it. We finally made dinner plans with them. Shocked it took them so long to set something up. Wren didn’t even see them over the holidays. Something about they were on vacation. My parents would have never chosen a destination over their children. It wouldn’t have happened. And I could sense Wren’s sadness when I mentioned her parents.

We had a heavy snowfall, which was normal for January. The car’s tires struggled with traction. Wren held onto the ‘oh shit handle’ like a life jacket. I laughed at how uneasy she sat and told her she’ll break in half without us getting into an accident. My teasing made her sigh into her seat.

Wren’s parents, Megan and Arthur, made it to the restaurant before us. When we approached, they remained seated, simply nodding. I helped Wren with her chair across from her mother, and I took the seat across from her father. We exchanged introductions prior to ordering.

Her parents sat with their backs stern and straight. They were unanimated when they spoke. The monotony of their tone seemed normal.

I opened the napkin, placed it on my lap, and said, “It’s nice to meet you both.”

Arthur cleared his throat. “We’ve been sitting here for ten minutes.”

“I apologize for being on time. It snowed while we were driving.”

He leaned his forearms on the table. “Son, on time is what everyone else does. You need to stand out from the others and find your place prior to the designated time.”

Wren cut in. “Dad. We’re sorry. The roads were terrible. Please, let’s drop it.”

With pursed lips, they gave a slight gesture of agreement. Arthur and Megan directed most of their conversation to Wren, which I didn’t consider conversation. More like demeaning.

Her dad asked Wren, “How did you two meet?”

Before she could speak, her mother cut in, “Sit up straight, Wren. Don’t slouch.”

Wren opened and closed her mouth, took a breath, and answered her father. “We met at a club.” She readjusted her napkin before continuing, “Finn was there with clients.”

Her father spoke. “What kind of clientele hangs out at a club?”

Since neither had glanced at me in this exchange, I sat back and let Wren take over.

“Finn owns a financial firm. His family’s company. Sometimes the investors want to enjoy their evening.”

Arthur grunted, eyes shifted toward me, and back to Wren.

“The business is quite lucrative. Finn devotes a lot of time to his clients, so they can get to know him. He wants them to be comfortable enough to trust him with their investments.” There’smia piccola, standing up for her man.

Again, Arthur grunted. “To me, anyone who takes all their monies to invest in the market is shady. Sure, it’s good to have a future nest egg, but to gamble all your money like the lottery is foolish.”

“Dad! It’s Finn’s livelihood.” He fanned his hand, dismissing her comment.

Megan took over the questioning. “How’s your job? Have they promoted you?”

Wren looked at me sideways, bit her lip, and answered with her head down. “Um, I lost my job last September.”

---