Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 140742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 469(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 469(@300wpm)
“Finn,” I breathe.
“If you are, you should get rid of him, or I will.”
“You…” My voice is a weak exhale. “You can’t do that.”
“Watch me,” he murmurs, as his lips trail down my neck to my shoulders.
“We really shouldn’t be doing this right now,” I say even as I’m tilting my neck to give him better access.
“Because of him?” he asks. I’m about to tell him it has nothing to do with him, but the hand he has on my stomach begins to trail down and thoughts vanish. “No. I don’t think you’d let me do this if you were serious about him.” He moves my hair and keeps raining soft kisses on the back of my neck, as his calloused fingers slide underneath the wide leg of my romper. “Then again, you’ve done it once before, haven’t you?” He rubs me over my underwear and I arch my back with a gasp.
“That was different,” I say, my voice shaking when he hits a sensitive spot. “Tate and I had an agreement.”
“Right. The agreement,” he murmurs, sliding his lips to the other side of my neck and sucking the spot underneath my ear.
“Finn,” I say, a plea as my knees wobble.
He takes his hand back instantly and turns me around to look me in the eye. “Are you actually hooking up with him?”
“Are you actually jealous?”
“Is that what this is about? Making me jealous?” He splays a hand over my throat and leans closer, so our noses are almost touching. “Do you want me to tell you that every time I think about you going home with him, I’m blinded with rage?” His eyes narrow as he moves his hand to the nape of my neck and squeezes. “Would you like me to tell you how many times I envisioned myself breaking his shooting arm while he touched you today?”
My eyes widen. “You wouldn’t do that.”
“There’s very little I wouldn’t do to eliminate my competition,” he says, tugging my hair to pull my head slightly back before his mouth crashes down on mine.
It’s a searing kiss that makes my heart pound and my entire body sing. He kisses me desperately, like he’s been waiting for this moment forever. That’s how it feels to me, like every kiss before this one was just practice. Everything pales in comparison. His hands are wild on my body as he lifts me onto the vanity, pushing the chair aside as I open my legs wider for him. I wrap them around his waist and sink my hands into his hair. That earns me a low rumble that makes my core tighten. He pulls back, nibbling and sucking my lower lip into his mouth.
“Fuck,” he breathes, setting his forehead against mine.
My heart is still jackhammering as I lower my arms and set them over his forearms, gripping his biceps as I catch my breath. I lean further into him, relishing how I feel in his arms, wanting to live in this moment forever, feeling the heat of his body against mine as he holds me like I matter to him.
“There is no competition,” I whisper after a moment.
“Good.” His exhale makes my heart skip. He presses another kiss against my lips, and another.
After a moment, I pull away from him. “We need to go back out there.”
Hesitation and a slight frown forms on his face. “I don’t like him touching you.”
My heart skips. “He’s just like that. I’m like that. It’s a Latin thing. Some of us are touchy-feely, but it doesn’t mean anything.”
“Is that what you like?” he asks quietly.
His question takes me by surprise. I search his eyes. I’ve never thought about it before, but I guess affection is a love language I crave. I answer with a nod. Tate wasn’t very affectionate. And despite his jealousy, I don’t expect Finn to be either. I’m not sure I can even picture Finn in the kind of relationship that would require expectations.
He looks at me for a long moment with that inscrutable expression I can’t read, and takes a step back. He watches my every move as I fix my romper and locate my sandals, which flew off at some point. When we finally walk out of my room, he presses his hand to the small of my back and leaves it there until we reach the kitchen. Only then, does he fully pull away from me.
21
FINN
“What’s your celly going to be when you score the first goal?” Lundy asks, as he skates up.
“I’ve known Barlow since I was born and I’ve never seen him celebrate anything.” Hamilton laughs as he shoots the puck into the goal.
“Is that right?” Lundy takes his shot.
“I’m here to win, not dance,” I say, skating around Lundy, who’s trying to block me, and shoot the puck in.
“This fucking guy,” he says, shaking his head with a laugh.