Fuck, what am I doing?
I should let him leave.
I should let us forget that for one night, we weren’t completely miserable in each other’s presence. But if he leaves, the truce will officially be over, and it scares me shitless.
Finn stops dead but doesn’t look at me right away. He’s standing in the doorway when he heaves an “I can’t believe this girl” scoff and swivels around.
“You really want to know?”
I consider retracting my question, but it’s too late.
He’s already charging toward me.
I’m backed up against the large bookcase behind me in a matter of seconds. The space between us is but a few inches now, and my focus dips to his mouth. His tongue glosses over his bottom lip as he glares through my soul. His lips are sultry, and shit,they look soft. I just wish the words coming out of them weren’t so brutal all the time.
“You really want to know what I’m thinking about right now?” Finn warns like he’s trying to prepare me for impending doom. I swallow hard and manage a small nod.
My silent answer causes him to move even closer, our mouths nearly touching as he destroys the wall of hatred I’d carefully built between us.
“I’m thinking about the thousand ways I could make you come right there on that rug.”
Just like that, there’s no more air in the room. There’s no more truce, or peace offering, or waving of a white flag. He’s ready for battle, and I’m scared I’ll have to surrender.
“I’m thinking about the thousand times I’ve wanted to back you into a corner and eat that pussy until you were soaking my whole fucking face.” He doesn’t even flinch.
Oh.
My.
God.
My mouth falls open at his admission, and he smirks, running his thumb over my bottom lip and driving any resistance I had left to this attraction into the ground.
“I think about you begging me not to tell your boss you like what his fucked-up son does to you with his tongue.”
The silence that follows makes me reconsider everything I thought I knew. He’s still looking at my mouth—scratch that, he’s downright devouring my mouth with his eyes—and I hate myself for it, but…
If he wanted my first kiss right now?
I’d give it to him.
I fear my heart might pop like an overinflated balloon when Finn grabs my cheeks with one hand, squeezing my face and bringing me closer until his mouth is hovering near mine.
“And that, Gem…” He pauses. “That’s the reason you can’t handle it.”
Then he walks off.
No further explanation, no apology for his bluntness.
Nothing.
He just leaves me there. In the middle of four walls that heard a confession I’ll never be able to forget.
* * *
I spent the following weekend trying to reprogram my brain.
Wasn’t easy, but the articles online did warn me it would take a fair share of discipline. The main goal? Stop thinking about Finn. I’m not quite there yet, but his words are no longer playing on a loop in my head, so… baby steps?