Chapter Seven
Only a heartbeat passed, just enough time to flick on the light in the foyer so a soft glow flooded the room before she was in his arms again. Finn’s hands moved inside of her coat, skimming her waist, seizing her hips to press her lower body to his as he kissed her. Her soft moans joined his, creating an electric hum between them.
“Wait.” He pulled away.
She made an anguished sound, opening her eyes with obvious reluctance.
God, he wanted her. But he also wanted to show her that whatever he felt went beyond the need to satisfy a sexual craving. He didn’t know what it was, how to convey it—and she’d already slipped a trim thigh between his legs to rub him through his pants.
He groaned, stepping back to escape her sinful attack, tugging her along with him to the bed. He sat at its edge, pulling her between his thighs. He read the emotions in her eyes. Excitement. Anticipation. Doubt.
“C’mere,” he said.
He drew her to him and just held her, one arm behind her back and the other beneath her hips, pressing his face to her chest. He dragged her scent into his lungs for a minute, feeling her trembling warmth like live wire in his arms.
She felt so good. Like coming home.
Her hands tangled in his hair, unconsciously teasing the curls at his nape. Even that slight touch made him moan, and he moved his neck to rub against her soft fingers. Their deep breaths slowed in synchrony, and he loosened his hold without releasing her. He lifted his head to look up at her moonlit face.
“This is insane,” he said.
“I know.” She stared back at him.
“I would have given my other leg for this.”
She giggled. “For a hug?”
“Mmhmm.” He tightened his hands on her waist. “I think anything else might kill me.”
Honesty darkened the humor in his tone, and she shivered despite the warmth in the room. She dropped her hands to move her palms up his thighs, and the need to get closer to her grew stronger, pounding a rhythm into his ears.
“Before I kill you,” she teased, looking down at his left leg, “I need to know that it won’t hurt. Are you…is that okay?”
His soft laugh drew her eyes back to his. “That’s not where it hurts.”
She lifted her hand to give him a playful smack, but he caught it, bringing it to his chest.
“Here,” he said. “Put me out of my misery.”
****
She lifted her hands to his face, letting her thumbs brush his ears and he groaned. He leaned in and she closed her eyes. His lips were firm, his tongue bold as it filled her mouth, the sweet taste of him laced with whiskey. His hands were everywhere at once, kneading her breasts, stroking her waist, gripping her ass. The pads of his fingers created a delicious ache, and she broke their kiss to cry out. He pushed the hem of her dress up the satin skin of her thighs and the scent of her wafted into his nostrils. The fabric bunched at her waist, and her naked flesh was revealed to his hungry gaze.
“You smell so good, Emanuela.”
His hot breath tickled her and she shivered, the pulse within her sending another rush of moisture at the rich timbre of his voice.
“You were naked under here all evening,” he said.
“Panty lines.”
Her wetness had seeped to her thighs, and he bent his head to taste her for the first time, humming his satisfaction. She whimpered in anticipation, her legs trembling as he licked his way up her thighs. Her hands gripped his hair and she pressed closer.
He growled, snatching her to him by her hips, burying his face between her thighs. His tongue plunged deep, curling up, his nose rubbing her clit in small circles.
“Mmmmmm.” She bit down on the soft fullness of her lower lip.
He continued to stroke her with his tongue, lifting a smooth leg over his shoulder and planting a hand on her thigh. She hissed each time she inhaled, releasing her breaths on ragged sighs. Pressure mounted inside of her and she couldn’t speak. He sucked her clit into his mouth, applying more pressure with his tongue. She tensed around him for several seconds before she convulsed, holding him prisoner by his hair. Her keening cries ripped from her throat, and he continued to lick her until her movements slowed against his mouth.
“Oh my God.” She slumped against him.
His laugh came then, but hoarse with need for her. “I’m hurt. All that effort and you still don’t remember my name.”
“It’s okay.” She steadied herself. “You can try again.”
****
He groaned, eager to accept the challenge. His hands glided over her hips, upward along her waist and across her exquisite shoulders to the zipper. He pulled it down, licking his lips at each inch of her glorious, naked back revealed to him.
His open mouth moved along her skin and she sighed, shimmying to allow her dress to fall to the floor. His languid gaze touched her everywhere, his mouth agape at the sight of her naked in front of him. His hands roamed her body for a moment, traveling over her breasts and the smooth plane of her stomach. She bent to help him out of his pants, kissing his thigh above the prosthetic before tugging them off.
“You’re incredible,” he said.
His fingers delved into her hair and raked her scalp, and she moaned long and deep. He gently tilted her head back and covered her mouth with his, stealing her breath as their tongues met and met again. Minutes passed before he released her, both of them panting and breathless. He bent and lifted her by her hips with ease, her legs wrapping around his waist.
“Ungh, Emanuela.” He trembled at the feel of her soft hand wrapping around him and guiding him into her warmth. “You’re so beautiful. You’re gonna get sick of me telling you that.”
“Doubt it,” she said, wiggling a little for good measure.
Her teasing earned her a solid smack on the ass and she yelped. Finn grinned and sat down again with her in his lap. He whispered in her ear and she complied eagerly, swirling her hips in a slow rhythm. His hands roamed over her, the slow burn at this angle torturing him with pleasure. He caught her wild little animal sounds with his tongue, swallowing them down until they needed to break for air again. He looked at her dewy face, heard her fractured breathing and knew that she was close.
What if I just… He bent his head to take a pebbled nipple into his mouth and bit her.
“Fu-Finn!”
“Jesus.” A new surge of wetness coated him. His excitement tripled at his discovery and his voice dripped sex. “You like that, baby?”
“Yes!”
He waited until she got back into her rhythm, clinging to his shoulders, before he assaulted her again. He bit her over and over; attentive to her breasts, her waist, her neck. The exquisite pain threw her off her rhythm once more and she clenched around him, releasing a sound like nothing he’d ever heard before as she rode him in earnest. Her need broke something in him and he thrust hard and deep. Slick flesh slapped together until release crippled her and she stilled, her rapid contractions pulling him deeper until white flashed before his eyes.
His release washed over him in waves and he growled into her neck, his sharp teeth piercing her shoulder. She sighed his name again, weak and trembling. He grinned at her, watching her try to catch her breath.
“What?”
He traced along the bruise he left on her shoulder with his finger, his grin growing to an all-out leer. “If all I had to do was bite you to get you to call me Finn, I’d have done it sooner.”
****
They took turns using the bathroom, Finn first, so he could remove his leg and get comfortable while Emanuela showered. She wasn’t withdrawn or shy when she emerged, which was encouraging. The sight of his artificial limb propped against the nightstand didn’t seem to startle her, and he’d settled beneath the sheets to avoid any awkwardness. She slipped in and snuggled against his side. He angled his body toward her, propping his head on one hand and tracing her cheek with the other.
“You’re so…proper,” he said. “Watching you come apart is so sexy.”
Her face flushed. “I like watching you too. I like how you say my name. The whole thing, EMANYOU-ELL-A!”
“You wound me.”
Her honeyed laugh sent a jolt through him. An ache filled the space in his heart, the one left vulnerable after so many months of uncertainty where he felt like she’d gotten away from him. He had felt something similar every time Simon hugged her and he couldn’t, and every time she called him “Doctor Kane” in that reserved, businesslike way. The sound of her merriment rang in his ears and he wished he had more time with her to hear it again and again.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked, fingering the curls at his forehead.
He narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t sure he understood what he was thinking himself, especially if she was anywhere near him. Whatever faculties he possessed were paralyzed in her presence and his thoughts got muddled. He decided he would try.
“You slay me,” he said. “I don’t know what this is, but it feels right. It’s like I’ve known you for years. But it feels new and exciting too.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. None of this is making any sense.”
“No, I get it.” She blinked, thinking for a moment. “It’s surreal, isn’t it? We hardly know each other apart from—” Her eyes trailed along his chest and she looked away as her face heated again. “But I already feel so comfortable with you.”
“Don’t I make you uncomfortable, Miss Monroe?”
She gasped, and he knew that she was remembering the night they met. “I… Maybe that wasn’t the best word for it.” She stared at his mouth. “Upset. You upset me, I think. Shook me up. Nothing about you was predictable, and I’m good at anticipating things.”
He nodded. “You upset me too. You ruined my social life, by the way. Turns out the brooding type isn’t attractive in men of a certain age.”
“Good. I wasn’t having any fun either, you know. It was impossible to explain to a guy that he couldn’t measure up to something I didn’t even understand.”
He looked down at her and the sweet pain filled his chest again. She was so strong, so powerful despite her small size. Her confidence and command of her profession made her even more attractive to him, and now she was allowing him to see past her bravado to something more vulnerable.
He raised his fingers to trace the fine features of her face, along the faintly smudged makeup around her eyes, a delicate cheekbone, and her still-tender lips. Stopping there, he gently pressed down and they parted, her tongue flicking the tip of his finger.
“Jesus,” he said in reverent baritone, feeling her shiver in response. “What have we wrought?”
He curled an arm around her waist to pull her to him and angled his head to ply her mouth with long, lazy kisses. He heard her sigh and felt her turn so that her body was aligned with his. Her free hand moved to his nape and held his head to hers. He intended to use this moment to show her what he could not put into words. Talk was forsaken and all there was to do was feel.
He wanted her saturated in him, to make her feel like the most treasured woman in the world. The intensity of his feelings overwhelmed him, and he sensed the air between them change. This slow exploration of each other’s bodies bonded them together stronger than before. Just like he could read her most intricate feelings in her eyes, he was reaching out to her with touch.
Her body responded, every part pressing to get closer. They took their time figuring each other out, tuning until they collided in perfect rhythm. She clutched at him and he wrapped his arms around her, not wanting to let go. But the reality was that they would have to let go. After one incredible night together, she was getting on a flight that would put three thousand miles between them and he wanted her to remember—remember this, remember him.
****
The full April moon streamed through the sliding balcony door of Emanuela’s hotel room, bathing the room in soft, blue light. She peppered Finn’s neck and shoulders with kisses before separating their bodies.
“I just need a few minutes.” She pressed a kiss to his lips before rolling out of bed.
He took advantage of the moment to himself, listening to the shower running. He put on his boxers and maneuvered himself to sit at the edge of the bed. Next, he pulled the prosthetic liner over his stump with care and smoothed it up over his knee. He did the same with the sock, and then reached for the leg.
It was a minor inconvenience to take it off and put it on again, but hopping around the hotel room would be uncomfortable, and he didn’t want to just spring his stump on Emanuela. He sat in the armchair of the small sitting area and tried to make sense of what just happened.
The chemistry between them was something he’d never experienced before, not with this intensity. His stomach muscles contracted. He could still feel Emanuela’s thighs gripping his waist.
Yeah, no problem in that department. For whatever reason, he and Emanuela shared a connection that felt spiritual. His instincts told him that she felt it too. He felt it when they made love, the same way he read her tangled emotions in the parking lot hours before. He didn’t know how or why, but whatever it was, he wanted in. The distance was sure to be a challenge, and he needed to know up front if she could handle being with someone like him.
She returned with her hair pulled into a high bun on top of her head, her face clean of makeup, and she’d wrapped a towel around her still-damp form.
So beautiful.
“Hey you,” she said with an impish smile.
“Hey yourself.” He strode to her, leaning to peck her cheek.
Her eyes fell to his bare chest and her face turned pink.
“I’ll take my turn now so you can get dressed without me staring.” He grinned, grabbed his clothes and strolled to the bathroom.
****
Emanuela dried off, slathering on body butter before slipping into fresh panties and an oversized T-shirt. She hadn’t packed formal loungewear or sweats. She hadn’t expected to share the hotel room with anyone.
Not really. Perhaps she had hoped… But there had been no logical reason to suggest that this would happen. None of this is logical. I mean, what was that?
She hadn’t been in a serious relationship in two years. Not since Greg proposed, and the screaming realization hit her that he wasn’t whom she wanted. She stayed with him because, at thirty, she had been “about that age.” He was a good guy, handsome, driven, and loved her. She appreciated the great things about him and felt flattered by his affection, but that’s all it was for her. A fantasy.
She grimaced. She still felt shame at the way she led him on. They worked and mingled in some of the same circles so it was awkward that first year after their breakup. They could speak to each other now, and she was relieved. She wanted him to be happy. That thought brought her back to the present.
Is this what it’s supposed to feel like?
She had written off swarming stomachs and perspiring palms as unrealistic expectations borne of too many chick flicks. None of her relationships had felt that way. The sex may have been good, even great, but nothing like what she just experienced with Finn.
The familiar current ran through her body at the memory of his mouth on her heated skin. She sighed. What now? She bit her lip and stared out at the moon reflecting off the water. She would ask him to stay the night. After that, she wasn’t certain. For now, she wasn’t ready for him to leave her yet.
****
Finn joined her, wearing his pants and the thin, short-sleeved sweater he wore to dinner. “Coffee?”
She was sipping some, black, from a paper cup. She shrugged. “I’m awake.” He sat next to her on the leather loveseat, lifting her legs and pulling them across his lap. “I think I just learned the secret to the success of the formidable Emanuela Monroe.”
“Oh you think so, huh?” She fingered a wet curl that fell over his brow.
“Maybe.”
He was having a hard time getting his thoughts together. He was so resolute in the shower. He wanted to lay himself bare so that she knew what she was getting before he asked if he could call her after tonight. The memory of other women who seemed open to the idea of dating him and later changed their minds nipped at his confidence. He looked into her eyes, which were curious at his somber mood.
“Earlier, you said you couldn’t explain something you didn’t understand…” He hesitated, looking down at her legs and stroking them softly. “What did you mean by that?”
“After all this time, I’m still not sure,” she said, the struggle to find the right words evident in her voice. “Whatever I saw in you, I wanted to be close to it.” She shrugged. “I just wanted to be close to you, for however long.”
All the emotions from that night washed over him and the onslaught churned his stomach. “It was the same for me. But at the same time, I wanted to get far the hell away from you.” He watched her face for any sign of hurt, but to his relief, she just nodded.
“I know.” She frowned. “It was so strange. Almost made me sick.”
He drew in a sharp breath, noticing her stiffen in response.
“What?” she asked.
“That’s exactly how it was for me. It’s how I’m feeling right now.”
She nodded again. “We were both a little off. But your pitch was one of the more memorable ones I’ve had.”
“Don’t remind me. I don’t think I’ve ever botched it like that before.”
“Excuse me?” She smacked his chest. “Maybe I should rescind that offer.”
He chuckled. He knew she was wide open, and he wanted her to trust him. It was his turn to be exposed. He tapped his leg. “This is the best one I’ve had so far, except I can’t deep sea dive with it.”
She reached for his hand. “How many do you have?”
“Just one. But I’m waiting for the military to finish developing those bionic legs so I can lift cars with my foot.”
Her slim fingers traced his bigger ones. “You don’t have to do that, you know. Self-deprecate. You’ve already seen me naked.”
His eyes raked over her, his pulse jumping at her words. “You have no idea how much I’d like to see that again,” he said, sensing her shiver. “But first I want you to see me too. The real me.” He looked down at their hands. “Only if you’re comfortable.”
“I want to see. I just didn’t know how to ask. Or if I should ask.” She smiled. “I didn’t want to offend you.”
“You haven’t asked me to spank you with it, so this is already an improvement from my last date.”
Emanuela gasped. “No…”
He laughed at her horrified expression. “’Fraid so.” He gently removed her legs from his lap and stood in front of her. “And that was an improvement from the date before that.”
“Oh my God.” She snickered. “That’s awful.”
“Well, some kinky stuff is fun.”
“Ugh.” She narrowed her eyes. “Just drop your pants already!”
He grinned and turned away to do just that, bending to tug them off before coming back to sit beside her. Without further ceremony, he pushed on the front of the leg and a tiny motor whirred. “It’s vacuum sealed,” he said. “The button is hidden beneath this sleeve.”
He pulled down the flesh-colored skin covering his knee and the prosthetic leg. Then, he removed the prosthesis and propped it against the end table, glancing at Emanuela.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“It’s a sock. Just makes it more comfortable. Tighter fit.”
“How does it feel to take it off? Is it like taking your shoes off at the end of the day?”
“Wow.” He smiled wide. “That’s not half bad… It’s more like taking off a snug pair of jeans. Just by the way it feels.”
She nodded and he removed the sock, then peeled off the liner to leave his stump bare.
He watched her a moment, letting her take it in. Her eyes widened. Much of his leg was intact, halfway to his shin. It was smooth and conical, with a long pink scar at the tip of the stump.
“Some assembly required,” he said.
She made a sound that was half-gasp, half-laugh. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I was shocked the first time I saw it too.”
Her lips parted and closed again, darkness clouding her eyes. Finn could read everything in her face, and he silently agreed with the conflict he saw there. Part of him wanted to share the details about what happened, but another part of him wanted to preserve a moment that was new and exciting and full of promise. Another time. If she gives me a chance.
He lifted his stump, extending it in front of him. “Sometimes people are surprised I can move it. I can do just about anything, but walking tends to require two feet.”
She laughed. “I don’t doubt that you can do whatever you put your mind to.” She scooted in closer. “If not, we may have never even met.”
“It’s true.” He snaked an arm around her waist. “And when I heard from your office, I knew my fate was in your capable hands, and part of me couldn’t wait to see you again.”
Her eyes turned the deepest shade of brown he’d seen from her yet. “Which part?” she whispered.
He groaned at the suggestive way she was looking at him and dragged her across his lap. “All of me,” he said, against her lips. “Every part.”