Finn's Shot (Eden's Odyssey Book 1) (2 page)

I adore the shock on his
face. He clearly didn’t expect the wild color scheme I have going on in my
apartment. As an artist, I love the plethora of colors in my place. It helps to
keep me happy. Who can be sad when surrounded by a rainbow?

“Sorry. I forgot to warn you.
I like color.”

Surprised eyes turn to mine. I
share a flirty smile and wait for him to say something.

“I didn’t expect it, but I
like it. Never been in a place this… colorful. It’s interesting.”

He slides his hands in his
pockets nervously and shakes them a little like he’s not quite sure what to
think or do.

“Let me take your coat. It
was cool outside, but it gets warm in here in the winter.”

He shrugs off the suit coat
and passes it to me. I find his shoulders impressive with the jacket, but even
more so with it off.

“Want a drink? I have
American beer and white wine.”

“No, I’m good. I can’t drink
too much.”        

I tilt my head trying to
decipher his meaning, and when he doesn’t offer any other information, I hang
his coat on a hanger, and put it in the coat closet behind the front door. I
snag him by the hand and lead him to the bright red couch placed in the middle
of my living room.

He lowers his large body onto
the middle cushion, and I step over to the stereo, pressing play and hoping to
break up the quiet of the apartment. Once he’s seated, I waste no time with awkward
pleasantries; I simply crawl up and straddle his thighs. Eye to eye, he watches
me with wary eyes.

“Am I making you
uncomfortable?” Holding a sinful grin, I wait for his answer.

His eyes search my face for a
minute. I do my damnedest not to cower under his stare. I’m going to be proud
of who I am and go after what I want. I refuse to be limited by what society
says is the norm for sexual advances. As the owner of an exclusive sex club I
can’t be shy about sex. I’m not a slut. In fact, I haven’t been with as many
people as you’d think in my line of work, but he’s the sexiest man I’ve ever
seen so I don’t plan to hold back. He looks familiar, and I can’t figure out
why, but at this point I don’t care why. I just want to see what he’s packing
under that expensive suit. This is a first. I’ve never brought a complete
stranger back to my place. The whole scenario should scare me at least a
little, but it doesn’t. He has a comforting aura about him and I tend to be
good at reading people.

“No, uncomfortable is not the
word I’d use.” His voice is husky as his gigantic hands grip my curvy hips. He
lifts me slightly to line up my center with his.

I find his erection to be much
bigger than I expect. He’s hard as stone and my body tunes into his immediately,
soaking my panties at an alarming rate.  

I lean forward and place my
lips so close to his that I can feel the heat of his breath as it escapes his
mouth, and the combination of beer and mint gum tickles my senses. Our gazes lock.
I’m afraid to close my eyes for fear of missing something in his. They’re so
expressive, he’d give away his whole hand if we were playing poker.  

I flatten my palms on his
chest and push them up slowly over his shoulders, along his neck and up into
his hair. It’s a coffee colored, almost unruly, wavy mess that curls over the
collar of his shirt. I grip the strands in my fingers and pull his lips to
mine. My lids lower, and I try to soak up every step of this little liaison and
catalogue it for later. Our lips connect. He’s hesitant and gentle at first. Then
I lick the seam of his lips, begging entrance, and as soon as I break the
barrier, it’s like I break his control. His mouth opens enough to lick and
stroke the inside of my mouth, and then his tongue coaxes mine to dance with
his. It’s the sexiest kiss I’ve ever had. His erection is like steel between us,
growing thicker by the second, as I grind down on him over and over again.

His calloused hands slide
under my blouse and up the sensitive skin of my back where he unhooks my bra.
Stopping to check my expression, he waits for permission before I nod and allow
him to go on.

To prove I’m okay with where
things are going, I unbutton my shirt all the way down leaving it open only a
fraction. His mouth is back on mine, and his fingers push the flimsy material
over my shoulders and off to the floor behind me. My bra follows shortly
thereafter, and he groans as his hooded gaze takes in my 36 D breasts. His
hands slide up over my rib cage to grip the mounds in his palms. Keeping eye
contact, he seeks the berried tips with his lips, and his tongue snakes out to
swipe across the tender flesh. My body shudders as my hips roll against him.

My nipples have always been a
highly erogenous zone for me, but now even more so with his attention. The sear
of his tongue is like a hot line to my clit tonight. He pulls with his lush
lips, giving a gentle nip and my head drops back.  A moan escapes my mouth.
His eyes observe my response as he moves his attention back to the other breast,
repeating the process, and my thighs quiver at the sensation. It’s possible I’ll
have an orgasm just from breast play. It’s only happened once before, and I was
tied up at the time.

With my shaky fingers I
unbutton his shirt, pushing it back to reveal a sexy tribal tattoo in black ink
that swirls around one of his thick muscular shoulders and down over his bicep.
I trace the lines with a fingernail and watch as the goose bumps follow in its
wake. I push the shirt as far down his arms as I can in this position, until he
removes it and throws it to the floor. Artfully done, on the other arm are the
tats of a hockey puck and stick, and the number 77 inked in black below them.

Aha! His tattoos trigger my memory.
He’s on banners and billboards all over the city, but he’s in hockey gear, his
expression menacing in all of those shots. He’s a professional hockey player
for the Chicago Blizzard. Not that it matters much to me since I’m not into hockey,
but the body created by his sport sure gives me a great piece of canvas to paint
with my lips and tongue tonight. His body is ridiculous, long and lean with
defined muscle everywhere I can see. His thick muscled thighs contract under me
as he works to get my attention again by pulling my nipple into his mouth with
his skilled lips and tweaking the other with his calloused fingers. I’m busy
absorbing the sensual sensation as I keep tracing with my finger tips, moving
over to the indentations of his muscular stomach until he gets too impatient
and flips me to my back on the couch, hiking my skirt up higher.  

His voice husky with lust, he
asks, “What do you want, Darcy? How far do you want this to go? I’m close to my
breaking point, and I need to know.” He studies my expression, waiting for my
response.  

“All the way, Finn. All the
way,” I breathe out, so turned on at this point, I could spontaneously combust.
On the last word, I press my chest to his, my cool skin enjoying the heat from
his.

Without warning, this slow
building fire bursts into an inferno and I can sense the change as his switch
flips. He slides down off the couch and pulls my skirt and panties off, spreading
my thighs wide open for him.

“Bare. So fucking sexy. Holy
shit.” He growls out the words like a feral beast.

His roughened fingertips part
my soft flesh, and I feel the moisture that’s been building inside me slide
down past the crack of my ass. Then his tongue takes a soft swipe at me, and I
arch up begging for more contact, more pressure, more of everything. He wraps
his arms around my thighs and pins them down while he plants his close cut
bearded face against my folds and strokes me with firm tempered strokes. Just
as I’m about to release the coiled tension in my muscles, he changes his rhythm
enough that I can’t quite get off, so I whimper in frustration.

My hips undulate against the
assault and I beg, “Please, Finn. Don’t make me wait anymore. Please.”

“I love a lady that begs.” Is
his muffled response.

I’d probably be mad if my mind
wasn’t consumed with raw lust as my body quivers with unused orgasm.

“Oh God, Finn. Please.
Please. Please!” I cry out.

He slides two of his fingers
inside my soaked channel and bends them just right, hitting the magic spot
inside, and then concentrates his talented tongue on my pleasure bud, working it
with the perfect amount of pressure. When I reach my peak, I gasp and scream
out, thanking God and the saints for such an amazing release.

Smiling that smug male
I-just-worked-you-over-good kind of smile, he gives my nipple a playful tweak
as I squeak out a protest. I grab him by his hair again and pull him up to me.

“Pants off now,” I pant. I
may have just had the most explosive orgasm that ever was but I’m still so
turned on by him I can’t see straight.

He complies, dropping his
pants to the floor, and he’s left standing in his boxer briefs with a bulge the
size of Texas pushing against the fabric as the swollen crown juts out above
the waistline. I say a silent thank you for the creator of this man. Physical
perfection.  

I graze my pointer finger
across the weeping hole of his cock and slide my finger into my mouth, sucking the
salty drops off. His chest expands with a deep breath, and he tucks his fingers
in the waistband of his briefs and shoves them to the floor. His enormous shaft
bounces proudly in front of him, giving me a glimpse of paradise I’m about to
experience. I lower to the floor and shuffle forward on my knees across the
coarse carpet to where I’m close enough to grip the rock hard heat in my hand and
give it a few hard strokes. His head drops forward, and his eyes close as he
stands like a statue, with his legs apart, the rest of his body motionless.

I swirl my tongue around the
blunt head and apply more pressure as I reach the more sensitive underside. My
eyes never leave his face as I catalog his every reaction. My mouth closes over
the bulbous head, and I bob up and down until he’s as deep as my throat will
allow. My hand grips the root of his cock, and I work it in tandem with my head
bobs, sucking hard as I pull back. My other hand runs light fingernails up his
muscled thigh until it reaches his heavy sack, which I palm and massage as I
suck his cock. His groans echo through the room, and I can feel the tender
flesh draw tight to his body, alerting me he’s about to come. Instead of
pulling away, I suck him until his hot seed coats the back of my throat. I
release his testicles and massage his thighs as I drain him of every drop. When
I’m finished, he lifts me under my arms and sinks back on the couch, and we’re
back the way we started.

He pushes the hair behind my
ears and kisses my forehead before I rest it against the sweaty plains of his
chest.

“Never had any better. Holy
shit, Darcy.”  

My body warms at the compliment;
especially since I now know he’s a professional hockey player. Woman seem to
love professional athletes so I’m sure he’s had his share of them, but I don’t
respond. I listen to his still racing heartbeat and trace his tribal tattoo
with gentle fingers.

His hands glide over my back
as easily as my sweat slickened skin will allow, and he places soft kisses on the
top of my head. The intimate gesture surprises and melts me a little, so I
snuggle closer. I want to ask a hundred questions, but I don’t want to ruin the
best night I’ve had in a long time, so I stay quiet. Although profession would
make you think differently, I don’t sleep around. There was just something
about him from the first time our eyes met that snagged my attention. Spending
time with him at the bar, being the focus of his charming flirtatious
personality pulled me in further. His manners are impeccable and the hint of
Canadian accent really does it for me. It helps that even with a suit on, the
athletic muscular stature of his physique is still blaringly obvious. Who
wouldn’t want to be here in this moment with him?

His hands move down over the
cheeks of my ass, and he squeezes, separating them a little to knead the flesh
with more force. I can feel him grow between us again and am surprised he’s
recovered this fast. I was eighteen the last time I was with someone who was
ready to go again so soon. Inspired by his renewed interest, I rock my hips
forward, proving to him I too am ready.

His hands move up into my
hair and along my jaw line, positioning my face so he can kiss me with a fervor
I haven’t felt in forever. Our tongues dance the dance of passion and lust as
they intertwine, lick and stroke one another.

My orgasm turns my skin ultra
sensitive to where the rough texture of the fine dark hair on his thighs, the slick
moisture on his chest and the calloused fingers stroking my nape are amplified.

The smell of warm flesh and aftershave
fills my nostrils, pulling me in like the potent aphrodisiac nature intended.
If the snake in the Garden of Eden smelled anything like Finn, I see why Eve
had taken the apple. I’ll take anything he’s willing to give right about now.

“Condom,” I whisper in his
ear as I trace the shell with my tongue, stopping to suck on the lobe. His body
shudders, and his hips flex against me.

“My wallet,” his gruff voice informs
me.