Page 67 of When The Rain Falls

Aimee’s face is washed in delight. And there, with the widening of her eyes and the hungry curve of her smile, I feel a thrill that both drops my stomach off a cliff and causes my heart to take flight.

“MyGod,” Aimee breathes out, slow and heavy. “What has gotten into you today. You are so,” she turns her head toward the girls and then back to me before lowering her voice in her own whisper, “soin trouble when the coast is clear.” She slips a hand across my thigh and I take a meditative breath to keep my pants from tenting on the spot. And I’m now living with all the consequences of my poor decisions. Because I spend the next several minutes coaxing my dick to stay soft while also imagining all the ways that I might be in trouble.

After what feels like an excessively long time, the chatter at the kitchen table dies and three sets of feet wander upstairs. Someone on TV is chainsawed in half in a growing pool of blood and guts when our heads swivel and our eyes meet.

And what a difference mere minutes can make. Because I suddenly realize how exposed I am. How easily Aimee’s battered down my resolve. My protections. My walls. And I might be the world’s most reckless motherfucker right now, because I don’t even care.

Somewhere along the way, in the past week, a small seed of hope has been planted. It’s starting to take root. And I find myself clinging to it for dear life. Because I need to touch her.

Aimee turns to me, expectantly. Her cardigan still hanging loose off her shoulder. I reach out and slide one end off, revealing a bare shoulder and a thin strip of a milky white tan line. It reminds me just how tiny that orange bikini of hers is.

“You better have a move up your sleeve, bear,” Aimee says, her voice low and sultry. “Because all that talk has made me wet and I expect you to do something about it.” Goddamn. That’s all it took to make her wet. And I wasn’t even trying.

“Baby, if you want me to do something about that, then get on my fucking lap.” I slide lower into the couch and brashly splay my legs as I caress her arm, waiting.

She puts her wineglass on the coffee table and grabs the band of my jeans, using that to steady herself as she slings one fleshy leg over my thigh. She straddles me and it’s the very weight of her body against mine that has me biting my cheek and swallowing back the groans rising in my throat. I focus on her shoulder, pulling her body closer until my lips find its gentle curve. I plant one kiss. Just one at first. Then I slip the strap of her tank top and her bra down and plant a second kiss along the top of her collar bone. Aimee moans in satisfaction as her head tips back and her throat elongates before my eyes.

“Is this what you wanted, Aimee? My mouth all over you?” She nods and I grab her thighs and roll her over my groin. Pleasure rips through me. She curls her body over me to plant a kiss on my jaw. But I pull her mouth to mine. There's the faintest taste of wine on her lips. Spicy pepper, sweet blackberry, and hard iron. And there's also hunger, and need, and desperation.

Aimee moans into my mouth and I take that moment to slip my tongue lightly across the opening of her lips. She angles her head and grips my face with her hand as she presses ferventlyagainst my mouth. There's a hint of teeth, and a brush of tongue, and her breath falls heavy against my face. She’s fucking starved.

“Goddamn, Aimee,” I murmur into her mouth as she’s still plying me hungrily with her lips. “Fuck. I didn’t know you could kiss likethis.”

“You’ve had plenty of chances to find out,” she pants as she rolls desperately over my cock. The friction is hot and demanding. I’m at risk of losing whatever control I keep telling myself that I have.

“I couldn’t take those chances, “ I confess. “Because they’d have never been enough. I’d just want more.”

“Do you want more now?” Aimee’s hands reach for my zipper and a flutter of nerves nests in my rib cage. I grab her hands and bring them to my chest. I don’t want to test my luck. Not today. Not when this is going so damn well.

“Baby, what I want is for you to keep grinding your sweet little body against me.” My voice is low and husky now as my teeth clench. She rolls across my lap and the pleasure threatens to unravel me. I run the palms of my hand up her back in an attempt to distract myself from the fire growing steadily between our bodies. The fire that’s about to tip me over the edge.

Aimee stops grinding. Her hands fly off my chest and snake behind her back. And I already know what she’s doing. Fuck, Finn. Be a goddamn gentleman. I come in for the assist, squeezing the fabric of her bra together until the clasps release. Our kisses grow distracted as Aimee slips her straps out from her armhole and pulls the entire thing out of her shirt with one quick movement. And I can’t help but wonder how many times she’s done that before.

I pull away, just for a moment, so I can drink in the sight of her. Her small breasts are full, hanging deliciously free under the thin fabric of her tank top. Peaked nipples tease the fabric. Aimee arches her back and rolls her head back, her tits beggingfor attention. To be touched. And they don’t have to tell me twice. As I lift the hem of her top, revealing her milky white stomach, the indent of her belly button, my groin strains harder. As I slip it higher still, it rolls over the swell of one breast. Exposing a perfect, perky handful. My heart pounds in my chest, roaring like a hundred wild horses galloping across an open prairie.

“My fucking God,” I mutter between clenched teeth as I flick a nipple with my thumb. “Baby, you’re a fucking vision.” I flick again. I just can’t stop touching her. “I’ve tried to picture these beautiful tits all week. Now I’ll never get them out of my head.” I’m so hard and my need so urgent that my dick actually begins to ache.

Aimee smiles greedily at my compliment. She cups herself, lifting her breast, teasing a nipple, and then letting it fall. Her breast swings perfectly in front of my face. I catch her nipple between my lips and pull it between my teeth.

“Bear,” she whimpers.

“No, Aimee,” I whisper, bringing her all the way into my mouth and sucking gently. “Say. My. Name.” I punctuate each word.

"Finn." The sound is airy as it escapes from her soft throat and rises to the ceiling.

"Again," I tell her, grabbing her ass and pressing it harder against me. Because fuck. I love the sound of my name on her lips when she’s like this.

She arches her back and gives a quiet throaty cry. "Finn," she moans again.

I wrap a fist around her hair and give it a gentle tug as I continue to kiss and caress her nipple. I faintly recognize that I'm inching closer and closer to an abyss. An abyss where everything is uncertain. Where the future is unclear. But in this moment, everything that’s not Aimee’s body, heaving andarching before me, is just a distant rumble. Aimee rolls over my dick once more and it's all I can do to keep my eyes from rolling back into my head as pleasure cascades up my spine.

The sound of a whirring chainsaw and a woman's blood curdling scream causes me to jump. I bump Aimee's head as I nearly jerk out of my skin. Shit. The movie.

Aimee

When we pull apart, my chest is heaving, my breaths are shallow and quick, and every nerve in my body is ignited by fire.

Finn’s hand falls on my head and he flicks his thumb across my forehead where we collided. He pulls me by the back of my neck to his face and plants a kiss on my forehead. This kiss is tender and gentle. Not the frantic hungry kisses from earlier.

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