“I understand.”
We sat in heavy silence for several moments, the mood changing all around us.
“Thank you for being so good with Maple.”
“Of course.” I stroked her cheek with my thumb. The look of longing in her eyes was unmistakable. She wanted this to be okay just as badly as I did.
I leaned in closer and she didn’t pull away. Instead, she wet her bottom lip with her tongue. That was all the answer I needed. Cupping her jaw, I took her mouth in a hungry kiss. I’d waited all fucking week for this moment. And even though I'd told myself, as I pumped my cock each night, that her kisses couldn’t possibly be as good as I remember...it was a damn lie. They were better. Her tongue matched mine stroke for stroke. Her pulse pumped against my thumb where I cradled her jaw, skimming along her neck. If one simple kiss could get me this worked up and ready, I was scared to see what would happen when we were skin to skin between the sheets.
Finley crawled closer toward me on the couch, our mouths breaking apart for just a second. But it was long enough for me to see her nipples were two firm points under her thin tank top and her eyes were dilated with desire. For me.
“Come here, sweetheart,” I murmured, guiding her mouth back to mine, and praying to God this moment wasn’t too good to be true.
Chapter Eight
Finley
I hadn't felt this good in more than two years. I'd convinced myself that I could shut off all my sexual feelings and just be a mom. But that was total bullshit, because right now, my entire skin was on fire. Feeling playful and a little tipsy, I decided to give Grey the lap dance he'd paid for all those weeks ago.
I swung my leg over to straddle him. Closing my eyes, I let him hold me, and kiss my mouth and neck. I moaned at the onslaught of sweet sensation. We were so close I could feel his answering groan, a primal sound of need that rumbled straight from his chest into me. His cock twitched between my thighs. So hot, so hard, so close to where I craved it.
He grabbed onto my hips and held me firmly against him. I could have continued our little game—scolded him, slapped his hands away, forced him to endure this erotic torture until I decided to relieve him. But right now, he wasn't a customer, and I wasn't a dancer. We were just a man and a woman. Two bodies that ached for each other. And when I opened my eyes, the roaring fire in his gaze made it impossible to wait any longer.
Kissing him hard, I ground into his erection. He growled and thrust up. Even separated by his jeans and my pajama shorts, the friction made me gasp. He shoved up my tank top and I moaned aloud as his mouth closed around my nipple. Tongue writhing, he suckled the sensitive bud until I squirmed, panting, dizzy. God, if he could melt me into a puddle just by playing with my breasts...how would that talented mouth feel on my clit? My pussy clenched at the thought.
He switched his mouth to my other breast, leaving the first nipple wet and aching to pebble in the cool air. His hands delved into my shorts, squeezing my ass, pulling me down harder against his firm bulge. My hips bucked shamelessly. His cock throbbed in response and I was dying to feel that throb from the inside. I wanted Grey to give me every indulgence I'd been denying myself for so long. All we had done was rub together through our clothes, but white heat was already building low in my belly, coiling tighter and tighter. Like we were a couple of horny teenagers necking in his backseat. I might have felt embarrassed if I weren't so damn desperate.
And then Grey's hands cupped even lower. I squeaked when his fingers brushed my outer pussy lips from behind. Yes, I wanted to cry, touch me, please touch me, I don't even care how, just get me off, please.
“Come on, baby,” he panted. “Just let go. Let me make you feel good.”
I moaned shamelessly into his mouth. But as the pleasure started its final climb, reality suddenly hit me. I was going to have a screaming orgasm on top of Greyson Archer. I was going to come my brains out barely ten feet from where my daughter slept at night, with the man who had taken her father away forever.
Guilt slammed into me. I struggled backwards onto my feet and yanked down my tank top, trying to ignore the crushing ache between my thighs. My whole body was crying out for me to get back down on that sofa and finish the job. But there was no way I could. Letting myself go in Grey's arms...it was all wrong.
“I'm sorry,” I blurted before he could say anything. “No, I can't. I just can't.”
Grey blinked up at me, the haze of lust not yet faded from his eyes. “You're throwing me out again?” He looked so bewildered and frustrated, and I couldn't blame him—I felt the exact same way.
“I'm sorry,” I said again, uselessly.
“What is it you're after, Fin?” He stood up with a sigh. “All I want is to be there for you. I thought you wanted this...wanted me.”
I swallowed hard and looked away. There had been no real anger in his tone, only confusion and concern. An honest affection that I suddenly wasn't sure I deserved.
He waited a few moments for my answer. Then, more somberly, he said, “There's nothing I can say to take your pain away, is there?”
I flinched.
“Is there?” he pressed.
Biting my lip hard, I finally replied, “No. There isn't.” I forced myself to meet his gaze; he deserved at least that much. “It's never going to fade. It's never going to be okay. I'm always going to look at you and see...”
I didn't have to finish the sentence. Grey hung his head and cursed, his fists clenching at his sides. He wanted to fight me, to challenge me—but he knew I was right. Which only deepened my resolve.