Six
At his harbor-view condo, Finn didn’t bother giving Beah the tour. In true Finn fashion, he looked single-minded and determined, and Beah was left in no doubt as to where he wanted her.
In his bed, naked.
As Beah followed Finn through his luxurious house, her hand swallowed by his, she caught glimpses of his deck, the harbor, expensive yachts and boats through the floor-to-ceiling glass of his living room on the bottom floor. They went up a floor and a sleek kitchen, den and dining area occupied the open-plan space. Finn didn’t stop to let her take in his eclectic collection of art, he simply led her up the stairs to the third floor, finally stopping in the spacious hallway. He turned to look at her, placing both hands on her hips.
“Study to your right, master bedroom to the left. Guest rooms on the next floor,” Finn told her, his eyes on her mouth. “Last chance, Bee.”
Beah placed one hand on his chest, the other on his right cheek. She slid her thumb over his full bottom lip. She didn’t need to think about this. She knew exactly what she wanted, and that was him. Above her, around her, in her.
“Take me to bed, Finn.”
Finn didn’t hesitate. He wrapped his arm around her waist and opened the door to his room. Beah’s attention was immediately caught by the view. How awesome would it be to wake up to boats bobbing in the blue-green sea? The sun was shining and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky and she felt like she could step from his bed onto the deck and from there onto a yacht.
Beah gestured to the view. “Wow, love the view, Murphy.”
Finn didn’t answer and when she turned her head to look at him, she immediately noticed the gleam in his eyes. Eyes that had yet to leave her face.
“Mine is better,” he solemnly told her. Beah felt warm and squishy, like she had when she was newly married to him, caught up in the romance and emotion of being appreciated by the man she adored.
Don’t go there, Beah. He’s not your husband anymore and no matter how wonderful he makes you feel, this is only sex, just sex.
This was an hour or two out of her day, not a gateway to something more, something important.
Don’t you dare forget that.
She had to stop thinking, so Beah sat down on the edge of his California king and pulled off her boots, then her thin socks. Conscious of Finn watching her, big arms crossed and biceps bulging, she stood up to shimmy her tight jeans down her thighs.
He watched her movements with those soul-melting eyes, his intensity raising sparks on her skin.
Beah arched an eyebrow at him. “Are you just going to stand there?”
“I’m enjoying the show,” Finn told her, the corners of his mouth edging upward. She loved his half smile, half smirk; it was as sexy as hell. Finn rolled his finger, silently telling her to keep going.
Okay, if that was how he wanted to play it. Feeling sexy and dainty and oh-so-feminine, Beah turned her back on him, slowly pulling her cable knit sweater up her torso. She glanced out the window, wondering if she was giving the yachties a free strip show. Hesitating, she looked over her shoulder at Finn, whose eyes were on her butt. She briefly wondered if he liked her sunshine-yellow thong.
The huge bulge in his pants assured her he was liking everything.
That was all good and well but Beah had no intention of sharing this very private moment with anyone who happened to be looking out their portholes. She wasn’t into public displays of affection, and the idea someone might be watching made her feel creeped out.
“Can we have some privacy?”
“We can see out but nobody can see in. But I can lower the blinds if you feel uncomfortable.”
Trusting his word, and only dressed in a skimpy half-cup bra and the matching yellow thong, Beah walked over to the window and placed both her hands on the glass.
“Sure nobody can see what I’m doing?” she said, purely to tease.
She waited, heard rustling behind her but didn’t turn, knowing Finn was shedding his clothes. Beah shuddered when she felt Finn’s bare chest against her back, his erection pushing into her lower back, their skin separated only by the thin material of his boxer briefs. Then his big hands slid around her waist, one hand on her stomach, pulling her into him, the other moving up her torso, stretching his fingers to cover as much of her breasts as he could.
“You are so damn sexy, Beah Murphy.”
She wasn’t a Murphy anymore, but Beah didn’t correct him, not wanting to spoil the moment. A rose by any other name and all that. Besides, the time for words had passed. She now needed him to touch her, to taste her, to make her scream.
Beah reached behind her and covered his erection with her hand, squeezing his hard shaft. He was big, impressive and, despite making love to him on countless occasions, she still wondered how he fit.
Beah felt his mouth on her shoulder, and his fingers slid over her right breast to find her already-hard nipple. She tipped her head back and stared at the bright blue sky, feeling like she was part of the water, of the sky, immersed in Finn.