Page 64 of Rules in Love
Finn sucked my fingers into his mouth and laughed. Teddy’s voice gained volume. “I’m not hearing any moaning!”
I’m going to fucking kill him. “It’s okay, Finn. I’ll deal with this. Theodore, I AM FINE. PLEASE FUCK OFF!”
“Yes! I bloody knew it! Have fun, kids. Do everything I wouldn’t do.”
Finn claimed my mouth again, kissing me so profoundly I forgot my name for twenty-five seconds. “I know we have to leave, but can I at least drive you home? Be a good girl and say yes, Scarlett.”
Now, I’m a feminist, and I should find the concept of being called a good girl condescending and sexist. But from this man’s lips, it left me wetter than a slip n’ slide and bordering on begging to take him in my mouth. But before I could drop to my knees before him, my jacket buzzed on the ground.
“That might be Mrs. H, Finn,” I said, mentally undoing his fly. “Sorry, I have to suck it—check it. The phone. I have to touch and check my phone.”
Finn followed my gaze down to his crotch, shoved his tongue in front of his top teeth, and exhaled heavily. “Of course you do, Red. It’s fine. I’m fine.” Finn looked far from fine. He bent over on his haunches and started sucking in some deep breaths. “I just have to calm myself down.”
I peeled my eyes from Finn and rifled through my once-favorite, now germ-encrusted coat.
Teddy: I will collect Ben from Cat Lady, and he can stay at my place. Take that man home. Take off his clothes. Ride him.
Teddy: Be a complete slut. Be safe. Love you.
Teddy: You better tell me everything or I’ll cut you.
“Finn. That was Teddy. He’s picking up Ben. If the offer still stands, I’d like you to take me home and make me come.”
Scarlett
God himself wanted me to fuck Finn Austen.
He wanted us to get into my house and tear off each other’s clothes and bang, good and proper, to hell with the consequences. I knew this because there was an empty car space directly in front of my door. I had lived there for almost two years, and that had never happened…not once. But there it sat, as empty as my vagina had been for an unmentionable number of years.
Our drive had only been three miles, but a three-car pileup and massive overreaction to it by New York’s finest ensured it felt like three hundred and seventy-five thousand. Finn’s free hand roamed up and down my thigh the entire torturous, completely silent time we were trapped in his khaki Jeep. The feel of his fingers dragging and slightly sinking into my flesh drove me insane. I couldn’t wait for bigger, harder, shaftier things to sink into me. My eyes kept wandering to the bulge in his pants. The one he kept adjusting with a grunt and pretending like he hadn’t. I contemplated riding his lap the whole way home or using the cover of darkness to go down on him as he drove, but he was a terrible driver as it was. My tits in his face or mouth on his cock would ensure our evening was spent in a hospital bed, not mine. Still, I wanted to so badly that I had to sit on my hands to stop myself from mounting him.
In the alley, we’d been like nymphos on speed, unable to stop touching and dry humping. In front of my house, we were shit-scared virgins doing nothing and dying of our own ineptitude.
Teddy’s face popped up in his window several times. He was curtain-twitching so hard I wondered if he was attempting morse code. When he abandoned the blinds, and his front light began to flash on and off, I knew it was time to make a move. Otherwise, he would be here, dragging us both inside, and then I’d struggle to get him to leave.
“Finn, would you like to come in?”
His reply was immediate and came in the form of a strangled kind of grunt from deep in the back of his throat, followed by an attempt to get out of the car without removing his seatbelt.
I would like to say each second of this momentous entry to my home was burned into my mind, and I could see it as clearly as a golden tattoo that stained my flesh.
But that would be a filthy lie.
I had little memory of how I got inside. I knew it happened. I knew I was so nervous I could barely walk or breathe. I could still feel the tremble and tingle in my hands and the caress on his lips on my neck. I vaguely recalled the thud of the closing door and the clunk of my phone on the side table, but the first clear memory I had was the rattle and clunk of brass keys hitting the floor after Finn swept me into his arms. It splintered through the air like a starter’s rifle, signaling the shedding of attire. I had little to remove as I’d refused to wear the germ jacket, so it was mostly me who tore at him.
My hands, desperate to see and feel what laid beneath his shirt, dispensed of that first. “Holy shit, Finn. You’re ripped!” After that classy declaration, I stood back and admired the view. “Can I touch it?”
Finn’s eyes widened and shot down lower than his 8-pack. “I mean your stomach.” He exhaled, huffed out a laugh and nodded as his trembling hand took mine and placed it between his pecs, right above his heart. I left it there for a heartbeat, feeling his chest fill and expand while mine did the same. Then, with a wee squeal and a little too much enthusiasm, I let my fingers roam his smooth skin, trace the rise and fall of perfection, circle his nipples and belly button. I ducked and felt Finn’s body turn to stone as I kissed the goddamn ridiculous cut of his V. I looked up and whispered, “Perfect. Now, I want to touch your other hard thing too.” From my angle, it was hard to tell if the flush of color to Finn’s cheeks was modesty or lust, but I didn’t have long to ponder. I was too distracted by the contracting muscle beneath my lips, then his greedy hands lifting me up, skimming the sides of my body, gathering the hem of my dress, and lifting it over my head.
“Oh, you will. Never mind. But first, I have a feeling I’m about to see real perfection.” Once removed, it was tossed in the air beside me, and despite its flimsy nature, I swear I heard a thud as it fell against the floor. Or perhaps that was my heart? I stood before Finn in my heels, bra, panties, and stockings, fighting the urge to cover my body as he ran his thumb over his bottom lip. The pulse in his neck was visible from three paces away as he studied me. “I’ve wanted you from the moment I first saw you. I can’t believe this is real. That you’re real.”
“I’m real. Are you?”
“I am,” he said, his voice deeper than I’d ever heard as he stepped closer.
“I’m nervous, Finn. I know I came at you like a feral animal in the alley, but it’s been a long time for me. I know I come off as loud and outgoing, but—”
Finn shook his head, closed the space between us, and held my palm over his chest. “I don’t know if I’d call you loud or outgoing. I think you’re quite shy, maybe a bit nervous, like me. Anxiety can trick people into thinking we’re the life of the party. But our flailing arms aren’t crazy dance moves or lively storytelling. We’re just drowning on the inside and desperately grasping for anything to keep us afloat.”
