The Hot Shot(41)

"No." I lick my swollen lips. "Just you. Now."

His lashes lower in a sweep, and then he's staring at me as if I'm  Christmas. He draws his hips back, the round tip of his dick nudging my  opening. And …

"Oh, fuck," I moan. I feel that body move and all those muscles  clenching as he pushes in, making room for himself inside me. So thick.  So perfect. My insides grasp that hardness, holding onto the pleasure.

A helpless whimper breaks the silence. It is Finn.

Pausing halfway in, Finn braces himself on his elbows, his breath harsh. "Okay?"

Okay? I lift my hips, spreading my thighs wider. "More."

"Oh, fuck yes," he groans. One firm push and he's balls deep, so big it hurts.

I want the pain. "More. More."

Filthy words tumble from his mouth as he starts to move, giving me what I  want. But it isn't fast. It's slow and savoring. Finn works me as if  he's memorizing every damn second of it. And I love it.

"Talk to me," he pleads, moving in a slow steady fuck.

I can barely think, my world is a heavy glide of muscles and cock. "Talk?"

"Your voice," he says. "Pure fucking sex. Love it."

What this man does to me. I cup the sides of his damp neck, kiss my way along his jaw. "I love your cock."

He trembles. "Yeah?"

"The first time I saw it, I imagined … "

Finn stills, pulsing inside me. "What? Tell me."

"Sucking it."

He groans deep, rocks against me. Sweat trickles down his temple, his  breath is heat on at my ear. "Fuck. More, tell me more. How would you  suck it, Chess?"

Slow shivers dance over my skin. "I'd put it in my mouth when it's still soft. Feel it grow hard as I sucked it."                       
       
           


///
       

"Oh, fuck." He pounds into me-three hard thrusts that hit so deep I  grunt each time-before he slows, deliberately dragging that thick,  glorious cock of his in and out in that same evilly steady rhythm. His  cheek nudges mine. "Then what?"

It's almost too much, imagining Finn that way, while he's actively thrusting into me.

"I'd want you writhing while I sucked you off. You'd lie there and take  it, clutching the sheets, almost whimpering as I'd pull on your dick  with my mouth." God, I want that.

"Jesus." He shivers, dips his head lower. Soft lips brush my shoulder. His voice is a deep rumble. "You gonna tie me up?"

In and out goes his cock, invading retreating. I swallow hard, try to  concentrate on the words. "No," I whisper. "You'd have to hold still on  your own. Your willpower against my tongue. That's part of the fun."

He moans low and pained.

I run a hand down his back and cup his ass, push him into me. The  muscles flex under my palm. "I'd milk you dry like that, Finn. Your  thighs parted, your body strung tight."

He grunts this time, his thrust a little less controlled, a little more greedy.

"After you come, I'll keep you in my mouth until you got soft," I whisper against his cheek. "Then nurse that dick hard again."

"Oh, fuck." Finn loses control with a groan, and trashes against me. "Oh, fuck."

He pumps without finesse, without thought, hard and fast. The tight coil  of pleasure within me grows almost unbearable. I arch against him,  keening as I come. And he's right there with me, his mouth open and wet  on my neck, his pants buffeting my skin.

He stays with me until the trembles die down and our breath cools. And  then, with a please sort of grunt, he rolls us to the side, his dick  still deep in me. We lie wrapped up in each other, limbs twining, my  head on his chest.

For a long time, neither of us says a word. I draw circles through the  smattering of hair on his hard chest, and Finn runs his fingertip up and  down my arm.

"We should have been doing that since the beginning."

I smile against his chest. "The beginning, huh?"

"Yeah. I should have set aside my towel. And you should have put down  your camera. And we'd fuck under those hot lights until we forgot the  world around us."

I huff out a laugh. "Aren't we supposed to do it until we forget our names? Isn't that how it goes?"

"Nope." He kisses the crown of my head. "I want you to know exactly  who's fucking you. And I sure as hell am never forgetting that it's you  I'm with."

Gently, he cups my cheek and tilts my head back so his gaze meets mine. "I'm with you, Chess. You know that, right?"

He looks different now, as if the intimacy of sex has exposed a new  layer of him. Or maybe it's simply freed a part of him he's kept hidden.  This Finn looks at me as if I'm his, as if he's mine. This Finn is  irresistible, because I can touch him however I want, whenever I want.  So I do.

I kiss his lips, the crest of his cheek, the stubborn edge of his chin. "I'm with you, Finn. All the way."





Chapter Fifteen





Finn



* * *



I take Chess to a restaurant by the water. We sit on a huge terrace  strung with lights, our table right beside the glass railing, and watch  the sun set over the sea as Chess drinks a fruity cocktail and I nurse a  beer.

"What's good here?" she asks me.

For a moment, I can only stare. Her skin glows with a light tan that  makes her green eyes brighter. The ocean breeze kicks up the silky  strands of her dark hair, making them dance around her slim shoulders.  She looks happy, relaxed, and well satisfied.

I did that. I gave her that soft, content look. I gave her those kiss-swollen lips.

And because I now can, because she's right here, I lean in and kiss her  again. A gentle, lazy exploration of her mouth with mine. She tastes of  tequila and passion fruit. And I could gladly kiss her all night. I pull  back just far enough to see her smile, those green eyes light with  happiness, and I smile too.

I want to tell her things. Important, emotional things that I've never  said to anyone else. But this shift between us is too new and the place  too public. Besides, she wants to order food.

"Get the lobster tacos," I tell her with another soft kiss.

She hums against my mouth and, when I sit back, gives me an assessing  look. "Why do I suspect that you come home for tacos almost as much as  you do to see your parents?"

I laugh. "Because I do. They're the best in SoCal."                       
       
           


///
       

"Pretty sure there are taco lovers who would defend their own hometowns."

"They can try." I wink. Looking her over, a swelling sense of rightness  fills me. I've had moments I thought were perfect. They were preludes to  this. To truly being with Chess.

"This should have been our first date," I tell her.

Chess quirks a brow, but she's still smiling. "I thought it was."

"Our first date was eating fried fish and talking about bad sex. We just didn't realize it yet."

"We didn't?"

"Nope." Slowly I shake my head. "But the execution was all wrong. I  shouldn't have made it a friend thing. I should have gone up to you and  said, ‘I like you at lot, Chester Copper. Will you go out with me for,  like, real?'"

She snickers, but it sounds suspiciously like a happy giggle. "How do you know it would have worked?"

God, I love her smile. I want to keep teasing her just to see it bloom  again and again. "It would have worked. I would have kissed you the way  I'd wanted to since we met, and you would have been mine."

"Oh really," she deadpans, but I see the knowledge in her eyes.

"Really. I was made to kiss you, Chess."

She goes soft at that, giving me those bedroom eyes. And her voice grows  husky, making me hard and tight with anticipation. "Maybe I was the one  made to kiss you, Finn."

Emotion rushes through my chest, taking my air, and I have to breath deep. "You were."

The waitress arrives to take our order.

When she's gone, Chess looks out over the water, giving me her profile.  She's flustered, her fingers tapping the glass in her hand. Neither of  us have been in a relationship, me because I didn't want to, Chess  because she never found anyone she wanted. In a way, I'm glad that we're  both new to this. We can be each other's only. But part of me wishes we  both knew more, or at least one of us had some knowledge of how to play  this.

But it is what it is, and I'm content to drink my beer, watch the  sunlight dance in my girl's hair. Our food arrives and we eat with  gusto, talking about nothing in particular. The sun sinks behind the  horizon, and the string-lights twinkle overhead.

A dance floor is set up on one corner of the patio. Mostly older patrons  are slow dancing to a Sinatra song. Chess watches them, the corners of  her lips tilted up. "I wish I brought my camera. That couple there … "