His shoulders shake as he laughs, understanding my sentiment. “What I mean is I’ll probably need the hot tub after. Say around eight?” He points to me. “This is either your warning to avoid me or your invitation to join me. Whatever you choose. Good night, Avery.”
With that, he’s gone.
He leaves me with a clear choice.
Did I like what just happened? Or is this man who is way out of my league and much too tempting, a dangerous choice in my life right now? Finn has unrequited love written all over him, and I’d be an idiot to let myself go there. But then again…
The way he was just looking at me in the mirror…
The way he made me feel about myself…
I think I’m standing at least an inch taller at the moment. I’ve never met a man in my life who treats a woman that way. Finn has the answers to a lot of questions on my mind. Questions I only have one summer to answer before reality punches back.
So it’s easy to make my choice.
I need to buy a swimsuit.
9
Finn
Her eyes.
The lukewarm water from the showerhead cascades over my shoulders, runs down my back, and splashes at my feet.
Those fucking eyes.
I shut my lids and see Avery’s eyes engrained in my mind. They were so light in front of the mirror, underneath the bright closet lights. They were the prettiest shade of seafoam green, with a hint of fire right when she told me to take her panties off.
I should’ve.
What stopped me?
The dickhead she wanted to marry who cheated on her, then dumped her instead. That’s who. He even had the nerve to blame her sex appeal. Avery is now the most emotionally fragile woman in the world. What’s gratuitous sex going to do except confuse the shit out of her? She doesn’t need to spiral like I did after Nora and I broke up. Hooking up left me feeling so much worse and constantly nervous that I’d contracted an STD or accidentally gotten a one-night stand pregnant. Add anxiety to heartbreak and what do you get?
A fucking hot mess.
Avery’s better than that. It’s probably why I like her. I like her company. I really like her tits. I really, really like that she’s the only woman outside of Lennox who doesn’t see me as something to use or possess. It’s obvious from how comfortable she is around me that she thinks I’d never be interested in her. She’s wrong, of course. But she’s comfortable, which means the conversation flows. Maybe I’m an ass for doing this, but Avery is my little experiment in building trust with women again and relearning how to let my guard down.
How many conversations do I need with her to really get over Nora? Let’s find out.
Still, though…
Those goddamn beautiful eyes.
The more pornographic part of my brain is envisioning her looking up at me from her knees, my tip in her mouth as she smiles between sucking. In my fantasy, Avery’s taking her time sucking me off because she’s already thoroughly sated. I’ve taken care of her three times. Once with my fingers, then with my tongue, last with my cock.
I fist my erection in the shower, hard, as if I could stop it from growing.
This keeps happening. Every single time I think about her, I need relief. It’s more of an annoyance than anything because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her since last night. Glancing down at my eager cock, I grumble. Dammit. I’m already worked all the way up. Not even an eight-mile run was enough to exhaust me. Stroke. I give in to running my hand up and down my shaft, massaging myself under the water stream.
I wonder what she likes in the bedroom.
Stroke.
If she trusts me enough to see her naked with the lights on, I bet she’d let me fuck her with the lights on too.
Stroke.
I wonder what she sounds like when she’s com—”
Pound! Pound! Pound!
“Finn! You in there?”
The aggressive knocking on my bathroom door makes me jump out of my skin. She even attempts to jiggle the bathroom handle. I locked it. Maybe I sensed my cousin would once again barge into my home, unannounced.
“Goddammit, Lennox!” I bark. “We need boundaries.”
She yells back, loud as all hell so I can hear her over the shower stream. “I have your phone. Your dad called.”
Fuck. I roll my eyes and shut off the water. “Cool. I’ll get back to him.” The mention of my asshole of a father has deflated both my erection and mood. I grab my towel off the hook, pat myself dry, and then wrap it around my waist.
“Yeaaahhh…about that.” Now that the water is off, I can hear her apologetic tone clear as day through the door. What did she do?
Ripping the door open, I see Lennox holding out my phone…which is connected…to a call with my dad.
“What the fuck?” I mouth at Lennox.
“He’s on mute,” she says out loud.
“Why in the hell would you answer my phone?” Especially if it’s my dad calling? Lennox should know better. She knows how strained my relationship is with my dad. I’m his only son out of three children. He’s desperate to connect. I’m desperate to keep him at arm’s length.
She shrugs innocently. “Sorry. He called like three times in ten minutes. I thought it was an emergency. You know, you’ve been up here forever.” She smirks at me. “Were you rubbing one out?”
I snatch the phone from her hand. “Can you go downstairs, make a fresh pot of coffee, and then leave your key to my home on the counter,” I say through gritted teeth.
She snorts. “Fat chance.” But she scuttles off to follow at least the first part of my demands.
I fill my lungs with as much air as possible and blow out an irritated breath before I unmute the phone and place it by my ear.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Son. Hey! How are you, Champ?”
Jesus, he’s so fake.
“Pretty good. How are you?” Then again, so am I when it comes to him.
“Good, good. Great, actually. I just got my schedule for next month. I’m flying a Boeing into Vegas on the eighteenth. Can I interest you in a Wagyu steak, on your old man?”
No. “Um…the eighteenth?” That’s in a month. It gives me plenty of options for an excuse. “I think I have back-to-back sessions that day and I can’t afford to cancel. Damn, if you were one day earlier or later, I’d be free.” That’s the great thing about my dad’s schedule as a pilot. He has very small windows of opportunity to visit when he’s in town. Unfortunately, I don’t get to see the man often. Bummer.
“Well, that’s the great news. I arranged for a little time off. I’ve got three days and two nights. If you’re busy on the eighteenth, how about dinner on the nineteenth? You just said you were free.”
Shit. Walked right into that trap. I clear my throat, stalling. I try to think of any emergency that could’ve happened in the last seven seconds to get me out of dinner with my dad, without me actually having to tell him how much I hate his guts. “I guess I did.”
“Great. The nineteenth it is. I can get us a VIP table at the new Wolfgang Puck restaurant. The chef is a friend and I know the head ma?tre d’ personally. Sweet girl.”
Of course you do. The real question is if he knows her or fucked her. The two words are interchangeable for Dad.