Page 56 of The Better Choice

“Sounds amazing.” He leaned against the counter, watching her work. Suddenly, she froze.

“I guess I should change out of this, huh?” she asked.

“I’d love to change out of my tux, but I don’t have anything to change into, and something tells me our usual clothing swap—in reverse this time—won’t work out.”

She let out a loud laugh, covering her mouth. “Oh no! You’re right. I don’t think I’m quite your size. What are you going to do?”

He shrugged, pulling off his jacket. She watched as if she were being hypnotized as his hands unbuttoned the shirt sleeves and then made their way down his shirt, unbuttoning it slowly to reveal a white T-shirt underneath. “I’ll be fine.”

She nodded, though her eyes wouldn’t remove themselves from his forearms. As much as she loved him in a tux, there was something so incredibly sexy about seeing him dressed down, his hair slightly messed up, his chest and shoulders on display.

She closed her eyes, turning away as her cheeks heated up. “I’m going to go change,” she spat out quickly, hoping she could find the clothes she wanted quickly since everything was already packed up to move to Asher’s.

“Are you okay?” he asked, noticing her behavior.

“I’m…fine,” she said, hurrying down the hall quickly toward her bedroom. She reached for the zipper in the back, twirling in circles as she attempted to take hold of it. Finally, she groaned, bending down and trying to pull the dress over her head and then down over her body. Neither way worked. A tap on her slightly open door caused her to turn around.

“Need a hand?” he asked, staring at her with a cocky grin. He walked toward her slowly, his hands reaching for the dress. She turned around, feeling his fingers glide across her skin before they located the zipper. He pulled it down slowly—probably too slowly—until it reached just above her butt. The movement stopped, and he cleared his throat. The realization that he was staring at her bare back, nothing in between them, set her skin ablaze.

“Thank you,” she whispered, turning around to face him. He stared at her, his eyes filled with a burning desire she’d never seen in him before. She glanced down, trying to calm her racing heart.

He reached for her face, lifting her chin so she would meet his eyes again. “Don’t do that,” he said.

“Do what?”

“Don’t be shy with me. I want to know you, Blythe. All of you.”

Her jaw dropped open at his words, her thoughts jumbling and turning to mush. What was she supposed to say to that? All she could seem to think about was his lips—open and waiting for hers; his eyes, burning with desire for her; his hand as it crept from her chin toward her shoulder. He brushed the strap of her dress away slowly, his fingers taking in every inch of skin as they moved.

“I can’t…” She took a deep breath, her voice quivering. “I can’t have sex with you in the dress I picked out for someone else, Finn.” Her voice was a low whisper, hardly any power to it.

“So, take it off,” he growled, his hand still on her shoulder.

If it was possible, she felt her cheeks growing even brighter red. He leaned down, his lips moving toward hers cautiously. When their mouths met, there was a fire between them that hadn’t been there before. Suddenly, she was hungry for something else entirely.

His hand slid the strap completely down her arm, the opposite hand reaching to do the same with her other side. His tongue tangled with hers, wild and passionate, as he reached to remove the pins from her hair. He kissed her cheek, her neck, then stepped away slightly to stand behind her. He pulled one bobby pin at a time from her updo, kissing her neck in between each one. She watched in the mirror on the far side of the room as each lock fell down, his eyes meeting hers as he kissed her skin. Once her hair was down, he spun her back around, looking her over carefully.

“My God, you’re so beautiful,” he told her. She reached for her cheek to look away out of habit, but he stopped her. “I said stop that,” he warned.

She nodded, meeting his eye. “Fine.”

He smirked. “Better.” His mouth was back on her skin, his hands holding hers out to her sides so she had no control over what he was doing. Not that she would’ve stopped him. What he was doing caused her body to react in ways it never had before. Chills ran down her skin as his tongue grazed her collarbone, his warm breath tickling her neck.

She let out a moan without conscious thought. The man had power over her like no other—even Asher. Finn let go of her hands finally, his fingers grazing the neckline of her dress. He pulled it away from her body, his eyes on hers as if asking permission without words. She nodded.

The heat grew in his eyes as he stared down at her bare body, nearly every bit of her on display for him. “So beautiful,” he repeated, his eyes scanning her up and down. He reached for the bottom of his T-shirt, lifting it over his head in one swift motion.

It wasn’t the first time she’d seen his chest, but that didn’t stop it from aweing her. She looked over his perfectly muscled arms, his chiseled abs and chest, and the deep ‘V’ at the bottom of his stomach she’d only ever seen on photoshopped models.

He moved toward her, wrapping his arms around her waist as he pulled her into a kiss. His fingers gripped her lower back as if she was the only thing keeping him alive. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her nails trailing up his neck and into his hair. He let out a moan, telling her how good it felt. He reached for his belt with one hand, unhooking it after a moment of effort, and forced his pants to fall to the ground. She put her hand on the wall behind her, flipping the light switch so the room fell dark except for the city lights outside. He pushed her back onto the bed and climbed on top of her, trailing kisses from her neck to her chest, down between her breasts and toward her navel. He stopped, working his way back up and moving his mouth across her breasts. She let out a loud moan, arching her back and wanting to beg him not to stop.

“You like that?” he asked, lifting his head to look at her.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Tell me,” he demanded.

She was silent, breathing heavily and praying he wouldn’t ask again. She’d never been comfortable with talking during sex, and she was sure if he pushed it, it would get awkward.

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