Ten.

 

Finn drives for twenty minutes in an easy silence. He doesn’t speak again, but reaches casually across the gearstick and takes my hand in his. The warmth of his touch radiates, heating my body from the inside out, even when his fingertips start to trace lightly over the curve and crevice of my knuckles. A shiver of sensation, feather-light and all-consuming.

I shift in the passenger seat, already feeling a heady rush of anticipation, that lurch of desire unsteady in my belly. Over and over he brushes my palm, until I’m almost melted into the seat, every nerve ending in my body alight for his touch.

What do I want from him?

The question echoes in my mind as the miles slip past. I know what I should do: have the conversation I’ve been avoiding all this time. About why he left, why he never said goodbye. I should ask him the hard questions that will let me finally move on with my life, untangle old memories and lust so that they don’t overwhelm me every time he walks into the room.

It should be simple, and on the surface, it is. How many times have I watched a movie, or read a book, and been screaming at the characters to just get it together and say what’s on their mind? ‘They’re acting like a kid,’ I would think. ‘Real adults just suck it up and face the conflict head-on’. But here I am, all grown up, and I can’t bring myself to ask Finn why. Because it turns out, when the answer matters more to you than anything – when his words have the power to break your heart all over again – it’s easier just to turn away, and bite your tongue, and fall into the dizzy rush of desire rather than take the blade of truth straight to the heart.

His hand tightens around mine, and I squeeze it in response. I push the doubts away one final time, too hungry to feel like this.

To feel anything at all.

Suddenly, Finn yanks the wheel and curses, sending us off the main road and onto a dirt track, pitch-black in the dark. “Sorry,” he says quickly, and I grab the seat to keep from bouncing around on the uneven terrain. “I forgot there’s no markers out here.” He glances over, a reassuring smile cutting bright through the shadows. “Not far now.”

I hold on as the track winds deeper into the dark woods. I’ve spent most of my life along this stretch of shoreline, but I couldn’t for the life of me tell you where we are right now. All sense of direction has been sent scattering to the wind, and I only know one compass anymore: where I am in relation to Finn’s body, how far I am from his hands, and mouth, and tongue.

Right now, it’s barely inches, but still too far. The track evens out, smoother as the dirt gives way to grass underneath the tires, and eventually Finn slows the Mustang to a stop. He looks around at the pitch-black cliff, and lets out a laugh. “I can’t believe this is still here,” he says. “Untouched. I was half expecting to find condos and some ugly shopping mall. C’mon.”

He opens the door and gets out, and I do the same, surprised to find my legs wavering for a moment beneath me. Blood rushes to my head, and I realize just how much that simple caress of his hand has played havoc with my body, winding me tight with a slow-burn desire.

He hasn’t even kissed me, and I’m wet for him. Aching.

I take a gulp of cool, crisp air. We’re perilously high above the ocean, nothing but dark, rocky cliffs below. Finn’s parked far enough back from the edge that I can almost – almost – relax.

He hops up on the hood of the Mustang and stretches his legs out, leaning back against the windshield. “What do you want?” he asks again, opening one of the dessert boxes. “Death by chocolate, or pistachio éclairs?”

“Both. Everything,” I answer, relieved for some distraction. I clamber up and take a seat beside him. He passes me a plastic fork and we dig in, breaking the delicate pastry on the éclair first. The cream is cool on my tongue, and I sigh in pleasure. “Mmmm.”

Finn pauses, then picks up a fragment of the treat and lifts it to my lips. My pulse skitters wildly, but I force myself to hold his gaze, parting my lips wider. He slides it into my mouth, and I sigh, sweetness melting over my tongue.

“Good?” Finn’s voice is rough. I nod. God, I’m playing with fire here, but damn, it feels too good to stop. The air between us is shimmering with heat and wild lust, and I’m wondering how far this will go, what it’ll take before one of us breaks.

Finn opens the other box and breaks off a chunk of the chocolate cake. He feeds it to me slowly, and the bitter, rich flavor hits me in a rush of sugar high. I shudder.

Finn’s jaw tightens.

Slowly, deliberately, I capture his hand before he can pull away, and lick the frosting from his fingertips.

He exhales in a rush.

Who am I right now? I feel drunk on power and desire. Up here on the cold steel hood of this car, nothing but the ocean waves crashing to drown out my thundering heart, I feel brave. I feel reckless.

I feel invincible.

Finn’s eyes are dark in the moonlight, still so controlled. He’s barely touching me. He scoops chocolate frosting from the cake and brings it to my mouth again.

This time, I part my lips wider. He eases his thumb into my mouth, and I suck the sweetness from his bare skin, my eyes still locked on his.

“God, Eva,” he groans. “You don’t even know…”

“Try me,” I whisper, intoxicated by sugar and sex, and just the feel of him. The promise of so much more.

Finn pulls back. “Do you know what you do to me?” he demands slowly, searching deep in my eyes. “Every girl, every city, it’s always you. I feel you when I push inside them,” he continues roughly. “It’s your voice I hear when they’re begging for more. I’ve fucked you a hundred times over, in every position, in every goddamn way, and it’s never good enough. Not even close.”

My head spins. His dirty words strike at the very heart of me, and in an instant, I’m so turned on I can barely breathe. I shouldn’t want him, not like this, but I can’t hide it. Finn’s lips curl in surprise.

“I guess things really do change,” he murmurs, stroking along my cheek. “There I was, remembering my sweet, innocent Eva. But maybe you’re not so sweet anymore.”

He has no idea, but I don’t want to break the moment, so I push the past aside.

He tangles his fingers in my hair, then tugs me closer, leaning in to whisper in my ear. “Is that what you like now, baby?” His voice is rasping, seductive. “You want me to tell you all the filthy, wicked things I’m going to do to you? How I jerk off imagining your pretty mouth wrapped around my cock, taking every last drop and begging me for more.”

I shiver against him, my mind flooded with those same images. And God, I want it too. He’s not the only one who came alone, nothing but sweet fantasies to fuel his pleasure. The nights I’ve spent in the darkness of my own restless mind, tasting him, touching him, feeling his body surge and come undone.

I pull back far enough to look into those ruinous eyes. I’m too far gone to pretend any longer. There’s nothing but secrets between us now, hot and forbidden. “Every night,” I whisper. “You fuck me every night, and I come, and come, but I never get enough.”

Finn’s eyes flash with surprise, and just as I’m feeling the shame of my confession, he shoves me down over the hood of his car, and claims my mouth with a hard, devastating kiss.

Yes.

I arch up against his body, already lost to the feel of him, the solid muscle covering every inch of me. His mouth is demanding, fevered and out of control, but I want him just as bad: tasting, licking up into his mouth and devouring him in any way I can. His hands slide over me in a haze of heat and bright, fevered sensation, gripping my waist, squeezing at my ass as he tears his mouth from mine and licks down my neck. I moan out loud, not even caring how the sound echoes on the midnight winds. All that matters is the slow, damp slide of his mouth on my skin, and the deep coil of lust demanding and hot between my thighs. I wriggle against him, trying to kiss him again, but Finn just laughs and grabs my wrists, pinning them above my head with one hand. He continues his slow, infuriating path along my collarbone, licking and sucking at the tender flesh.

Yes. God, there.

He strokes softly under the straps of my dress with his free hand, teasing. I make a keening sound, pressing up towards his touch. But Finn doesn’t rush, doesn’t submit for a moment. He just slowly strokes lower, barely skimming his fingertips over my breasts, a whisper of cotton and lace bra protecting me from the true bliss of his touch.

“Finn,” I groan, needing him with a fierce desire that is brighter, wilder than anything I could even imagine just a few hours ago.

“Shhh,” he whispers, stroking again, infinitesimally stronger. “Shh, baby girl. You’ll get what you need. I promise you that.”

I relax with relief, but then Finn pauses, and lifts his head, fixing me with a look that’s so commanding, so fucking in control that I could come right here without another sound. “But first.” He smiles. “First, I’m going to have my fun.”

His thumb and forefinger close around my nipple, and he gives a sharp pinch. I gasp in surprise, but it quickly turns to a moan as he yanks my dress lower and covers my breast with his mouth, licking over the taut peak in a glorious wet swoop. I fall back, powerless under the giddy pleasure of his mouth, his tongue, his hands.

My Finn.

He uncovers me, inch by inch, peeling my dress away and exploring every inch of the bare skin left behind, sucking my nipples into his mouth and stroking a slow burn over the curve of my hip. I stare up, lost in the starlit sky as I feel him claim me, inch by shivering inch. God, it’s even better than I remember, better than it could have been. Those were fumbling hands and illicit, hungry moments, but this is deliberate. Devastating. Each touch designed to push me further to the brink, gasoline on the slow-burn fire, so that by the time he slides down from the hood and stands on solid ground in front of me, I’m spread to him and trembling.

The cold air slips over me, but every nerve in my body is already alert and on fire. I lift my head, confused, and find him watching. “Finn?” I breathe, needing his hands on me again. God, anything to keep him touching me.

“Just trying to remember this, sweetheart.” His voice is thick, but there’s sadness there too. “I want to remember every last thing.”

I catch my breath, the real world rushing back in a heartbeat. He’s leaving again. This will only ever be a memory for the both of us.

And then what happens?

I want to pull away, to flee with what’s left of my pride and self control, but those are already long gone as Finn leans closer, parting my thighs. He dips to whisper a trail of kisses up the inside of my knee, and reality fades back, way back, obliterated again by the dazzling rush of sensation. His fingers glide smoothly, I feel the soft scratch of his beard, and there, the nudge of his tongue, slick against me.

I gasp, rising up to meet him, but Finn places a firm hand on my stomach, trapping me in place. He licks again, softer, exploring, and every stroke is a seismic shift in the universe, the ground giving way beneath me, pulling me deeper into this bliss. His hands grip harder, fingertips delving to trace the same wicked path as his tongue. Yes. I moan again, and he rewards me with another kiss, this one right where I need him the most. He moves his tongue over me as he slides one finger inside me and then, fuck, another. Plunging, pulsing, a staccato rhythm that sends me wild. I writhe against him, desperate for more, and he answers with a fevered pace, perfectly in tune to the havoc he’s wreaking with his wicked, dangerous mouth.

Faster. Deeper. More. It’s enough to make me call his name out loud, hold on as tight as I can and never let go. But even through the dizzy madness, I know the truth, deep down.

I can’t fall, not again. Not this time.

The words are a mantra. I cling to them as he takes me over. The heat surges, my body rises, crests, and breaks under his tongue, pleasure pulsing like a supernova to blot the stars from that midnight sky.

I let go, give myself over to the rush, but I cling to that thread of steel.

I can give him my body, but not my heart this time.

 

When I surface, I’m almost surprised to find the ground the right way up, and the waves still rolling against the shore below. I lift my head, dazed. Finn smiles down at me.

“You doing okay there?”

“Uh huh,” I murmur, stretching experimentally. I have a kink in my neck from the hard steel, but my blood is singing, wild with release. “I think so.”

“Good.”

He takes my hand like a gentleman, and helps me down from the hood of the car, tugging my panties straight and smoothing down my dress. “It’s late,” he says, brushing my hair from my forehead. “We should get you home.”

Oh.

Home is still the last thing on my mind, but I know he’s right. Every minute with him sends me careening closer to the edge of something I can’t take back. Tonight he had me spread on the hood of his car in what felt like five minutes flat. Who knows what I would do given half a chance – a backseat, a blanket, or, God forbid, a bed?

I flush, and practically dive back into the car. Finn joins me, and soon, we’re pulling up outside my place. He walks me to the front door, and drops a kiss on my forehead, casual as can be. “I had fun tonight,” he says, like we went to a movie and split a milkshake.

I nod, feeling too self-conscious to even look at him. “Sure,” I tell him, hurried and fumbling with my keys. “Good night!”

I bolt inside and slam the door behind me, then pause and listen to his footsteps retreat. The engine starts, his headlights melt away into the dark again.

I slowly slide to the floor.

I can’t believe what just happened. All my vows and determination, all my promises to move on and leave the past behind. One look, one touch from him, and that sense was gone for good.

“You fuck me every night, and I come, and come, but I never get enough.”

Oh my god. I can’t believe I said that! And worse still, meant every word!

I shiver, feeling the imprint of his fingertips still branded on my skin. I see him. That passionate frenzy in his gaze, the look of slow domination as he unraveled me, piece by glorious piece. I want him, right here. I want to explore that strong body with the same relentless worship he showed me tonight.

A knock on the door breaks through my fantasy.

“Eva?”

Oh God. It’s Finn. His voice is low – and seductive. I’m frozen in place, on the floor just by the door.

He taps again softly. He wants to come in.

My heart beats faster. Fuck, wasn’t this just what I was picturing?

I slowly get to my feet, and reach for the door handle, but something makes me freeze up inside.

I can’t.

I mustn’t.

With super-human control, I yank my hand back, turn, and race up the stairs. I dive into bed fully-clothed and hide under the covers like a kid again. Except this time, the desire running through me is anything but innocent. I’m hiding from the force of my passion, and all the dirty, dirty things Finn could do to me.

Scratch that. Would do.

After a moment, I hear his car engine start, and see the headlights snake away into the dark. I try to ignore my disappointment. I did the right thing.

But damn, I want him bad.