Page 27 of Burn It Down
For a long time, we snuggled and talked about it all. About the pain we had caused each other. How hard it had been to be apart. The mistakes we had made. Then, we talked about the future. What we were doing next.
The only thing certain was that we couldn't stop this. Not if we tried; so, we were done trying. It was going to happen between us, like it had always been waiting to happen. Right now, there were not titles and no promises. Really though, it was more than we had ever given each other before.
It was late when he began tugging at my clothes, and I thought he was ready to break my bed in. Instead, he threw my clothes in the hamper and carried me naked to my bed. He pressed dozens of kisses over my body. Whispered about how much he loved the swell of my tits. Ones I thought were too small. Finn grabbed great handfuls to argue this.
Then he pressed a hot, wet kiss to my pussy that had my back arching. Demanding more. Finn chuckled against me, then lifted away. I was exhausted and he knew it. Instead of taking more from me, like he might have before, he stunned me.
“Night, my gorgeous girl. I work in a few hours. Text me whenever you want to. Sweet dreams, Sweetheart.” Finn kissed me deep and sweet before he covered me up, and was gone.
I fell asleep with the taste of him on my lips and the heat from his touch everywhere else.
Finn Cooper was a new man, if I could base it on the last twenty-four hours alone. After leaving me tucked away in my bed, four or so orgasms later, he was being sweet. Attentive.
Not pushy or clingy, but at the same time, he left me little doubt what he wanted. I knew last night it took a lot of will to put me in bed and walk away. Finn had.
I was positive he wanted to break my new bed in. As well as the rest of my new place, if I let him. Instead, he was acting like the perfect boyfriend. So why was I pissed off that he was trying so hard? Why did it not feel like enough? What was missing?
Finn:Miss your face, beautiful. Want to get dinner tonight? Or too soon?
Me:As opposed to what? Fucking on the balcony and eating my pussy in the hallway?
Finn:Sweetheart, I’m sorry ok. I…I just want to try for you, Gigi. I don’t want to fuck it up again.Well, shit. Finn was trying while I was being a bitch.
Me:Finn, I’m sorry. I will cook in my new kitchen.
Finn:No. You know, it’s ok. I’ll keep my distance right now. I just…yesterday was great, and I missed you so much. I’ll stay at the firehouse.Guilt washed through me as panic seized my chest. I couldn’t have him while pushing him away.
Me:Finn. Baby, I’ll cook. I want to see you. Yesterday was amazing. I’m just being a brat because I’m confused.
Finn:Damn, Sweetheart, I don’t want to make it worse. You asked for time; I can give it to you. It changes nothing. You’re my woman, Gigi. I don’t want someone else. Ever. I know it. Deep in my fucking soul. I can wait forever if I need to.Beside me, Bree was doing her damndest to read over my shoulder.
“Bree…invading my personal space there, sweetie. Back up, bitch.” Once upon a time, we joked like that; by the curl of her lip, we both seemed to realize perhaps that time had passed for us.
We became friends in high school, while I was firmly planted on the sidelines of Finn’s life. Therefore, she knew all about my woes. I thought when we started dating she might be enthused for me. That was not the case.
In fact, Bree had been against my seeing Finn at all. Didn’t stop the bitch from batting her baby blues and shaking her ass every time he came to our dorm. Perhaps that’s why I kind of can’t stand the sight of her now.
Bree was beautiful; in the way girls with big tits, ample asses, and little between the ears were beautiful. She looked like a real-life Barbie doll. Once upon a time, I had been jealous of the way guys looked at her. We were polar opposites visually, and Bree said that worked to our advantage. Divide and conquer, she said.
Now, things had shifted between us. Really, it had started before I began sneaking around with Finn. It was, however, absolutely about Finn.
I had a sneaking suspicion, but no concrete proof, that she wanted him. Not even because he was hot. Or that they would look like a hot Barbie and an even hotter Ken. I thought she wanted him just because she didn’t think I should have him.
We never liked the same guys. Mostly because I had almost always wanted Finn. Even still, I crushed on boys other than Finn. Realistic ones, like Benji Masters, a hot but nerdy boy from my first year at Loyola. Bree liked obvious types; football quarterback, the jerks at the fraternity parties she drug me to. Until Finn, our types were as polar opposite as we were. I might thank her for things with Finn getting kick started.
Weeks before that first night, Bree had taken me to a party. Not a fraternity party, one at some condo uptown. I was stunned to find Finn there. Bree seemed to have forgotten girl code because within moments of seeing him, she was all over him.
Finn didn’t like Bree and had told me more than once he didn’t trust her. Guess Finn Cooper knew a thing or two about questionable morals. That night, he didn’t let her get her way; two weeks later, I was in his bed.
The very idea of someone else having him, someone I knew especially, having him drove me crazy. As in absolutely borderline obsessive. I had to have him because I had always secretly thought he was meant to be mine. Bree never spoke of that night and neither did I, but we just weren’t the same.
“Relax, Jesus Gigi. Why, exactly, is Bunny-Boy texting you again?” My eyes rolled at the nickname; Bree coined it after hearing about his O'Malley's shenanigans.
“We talk. Didn’t stop for long, I guess. Why is it an issue?” Bree arched her perfectly sculpted brow at me.
“Well, a few days ago, you just as soon cut his impressive dick off as talk to him. Your words, not mine, honey bun.” Bree smacked her gum then her eyes lit up.
Focusing on something behind me, she pushed her chest out and donned her prettiest smile. A glance over my shoulder told me what I already knew. Professor Dexter was here to start class. Immediately, I grew uncomfortable, remembering our last encounter.
