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I angle my face, giving Finn room to plunge his tongue into my mouth again, because sweet holy bananas, it felt utterly amazing the first couple of times he did it. Finn doesn’t hesitate. His tongue strokes mine, and a shower of sparks erupt straight in the pit of my stomach. His hand slides around my waist to the small of my back, and his fingers brush the space between my shirt and my pants—the small sliver of bare skin—as I shiver violently.

“Finn,” I moan into his mouth, even though I’m not sure what it means.

Except suddenly, I think I do know because his hands are at my waist, and my hands echo what he’s doing. I don’t stop at just a brush of his warm skin under the gap between his t-shirt and jeans. I keep pushing, keep exploring. I flatten my palms beneath the cotton and run them along the granite plains. I could seriously be spreading my fingers over actual rocks, but they’d be warm rocks kissed by the hot summer sun or smooth rocks worn away by the wind, maybe the rain, and unfathomable amounts of time.

Finn deepens the kiss, and I groan, very un-ladylike, very un-me-like, into his mouth. His tongue does things to my tongue that my tongue is going to remember forever. I press my palms solidly against Finn’s chest and start steering him over to the big, slightly ugly, heavy flower couch. I know it was Great Aunt May’s, and I know what we’re about to do could be considered somewhat teenage because it’s a couch, and it’s the living room, but well, that’s not going to stop me. It’s my couch now, and I don’t mind defiling it. Plus, we still have clothes on.

Or at least we did.

Because all of a sudden, Finn breaks the kiss and rips his shirt off.

I’m stunned, and I gasp because there’s a lot of golden light coming through the window, and it hits him just like he planned on looking super fabulous, ultra-good, extra sexy, and totally mouth-wateringly good enough to eat, which isn’t exactly just a saying because I want to taste him. I keep steering, putting my palms back on his glorious rack of goodness that passes for his chest, abs, ribs, shoulders, and all of it, and eventually, Finn ends up sitting down hard on the couch. He reaches for me, and I spread my legs and straddle his denim-clad waist. I keep myself up on my knees mostly so I can reach his mouth and not because I’m afraid that if I sit down, I’ll do some really inappropriate things like grinding myself against Finn’s lap to try and relieve the furious ache throbbing between my thighs.

Finn guides me gently to him, but there isn’t anything gentle about how he claims my mouth again. We both lick, bite, taste, groan, whimper, and do wild things with our tongues. All the thoughts I’ve had about Finn, all the conversations with the animals, the freaking time I spend in the shower—I’m pretty sure there were some dreams in there too—it all comes down to this.

It has nothing to do with the fact that yeah, it’s been a while for me, but everything to do with how much I want Finn and how right we fit together.

“Finn,” I whimper into his mouth.

He gets the hint. All of a sudden, his massive hands are flipping me around and guiding me down onto the couch. Both our hands scrabble with my jeans, tearing them off. Finn hisses when he sees my cotton panties, and it’s like they are something special. I hiss back in pleasure when I see him noticing. I know I’m soaked, and he can probably tell because white fabrics do weird things when they get wet. Finn dips his head and inhales, and I can feel my entire body light up, including my face.

While he bends his head, he teases my nipple right through my shirt and bra, making me hiss and arch into the sensual touch. Finally, there’s a good use for all that hardening and water-seeking my nipple has been doing.

“Oh, my dear bananas,” I gasp as his finger rolls over the tight bud.

“Oh, my dear Becki,” Finn corrects.

“I think we should get off the couch,” I rasp. “And go upstairs.”

“Are the flowers too much for you?”

“I thought I could do this on Great Aunt May’s couch, but I can’t. I just…I can’t do it. I keep thinking about her looking down at me and getting scandalized.”

“You’re right.” Finn nimbly gets off me then gathers me into the most incredible set of arms I’ve ever had the pleasure of being in. Right, so they’re the only arms I think I’ve ever had the pleasure of being in, but they’d still be the most incredible even if they weren’t. “I can’t have thoughts about your Great Aunt watching us doing this.”


Tags: Lindsey Hart Romance