Lured In (18 page)

He'd never get used to that.

“The only other option is to t-tell them.” Jess stuttered over a blink and seemed to force herself to smile, weak as it was. “But, I mean, let's face it, we don't even know if there's anything to really tell yet, do we? And once people start finding out, there'll be all kinds of questions and…and pressure. We don't want that, do we?”

She was giving him a crutch and he'd be stupid to not take it. Sure, he wanted to say he didn't care about the questions and pressure, that none of that mattered, but it did matter, because he'd never been anything but a freakin' nightmare when it came to relationships. So until he was sure, until he could prove to her and himself that this was different—and it sure as hell felt different—then, yeah, it was probably best to keep it to themselves.

“No,” he finally muttered. “I guess you're right.”

“Okay.” Her nod seemed too fast, too short. “We'll keep it between us for now.”

“And what about Sam?”

“What about him?”

Finn didn't answer, just stared at her until she rolled her eyes.

“I'm not going to blow him off, if that's what you mean, but that doesn't mean he's going to get anything more than coffee—and don't look at me like that. He might be damn cute, sure, and even though Kate and Olivia keep trying to convince me I just need to give it time, I'm pretty sure—”

“Pretty sure?” Finn grunted. “Well, as long as you're pretty sure.”

“Seriously?” Jess jerked back, ripping her hand away from his, and started again, making sure she emphasized the first few words. “
I'm pretty sure
it'll take him all of about two seconds to agree that whatever we had between us is done. But that doesn't mean we can't still be friendly.”

“Oh.” Fuck. Why did he have to be such an idiot?

“Yeah,” she chided. “ ‘Oh' is right. It's shit like that that keeps you from being the sweetest guy I ever met.”

Any normal guy would probably hate being reproached like that, but not Finn. He thought it was funny, thought
she
was funny.

“Sorry?” He posed it as a question because he wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to say right then. But when he inched his fingers over hers, she didn't pull away, so that was good.

And it was even better when the corner of her mouth twitched against a smile.

“Sam would never get all pissy like that,” she said. “He'd be rational and calm and not interrupt until I was done speaking.”

“Because he's sweet.”

“That's right,” she said. “He is sweet.”

“And cute. Don't forget cute.”

Jess's eyes rounded as she nodded. “Really cute, actually.”

“That's hard for a guy like me to compete with.”

“I know.” If she was trying to make that shrug appear indifferent, she should have stopped smiling. “But I suppose you have certain…qualities…that he doesn't have.”

“Yeah?” He slid his hand around the side of her neck and tipped her face toward him. “Like what?”

He pressed the first kiss against her cheek, then worked his way slowly over the curve of her jaw. The instant his lips touched her neck, she speared her fingers through his hair and held him there, stuttering over a breath.

“Well,” she said, gasping when he brushed his tongue over her flaming skin. “L-like when you do that.”

Every time he kissed her, her breath caught in her throat, making that sexy little hitching sound as she arched into his touch, silently urging him to do it again.

So, yeah, sweet and cute could kiss Finn's ass.

“Between the devil and the deep blue sea.”

Jessie knew she wasn't going to get any sleep, but she let Finn lead her downstairs anyway, trying—and failing—to calm the chaos in her head.

Did Finn want to sleep with her? Forget sleep, did he want to have sex with her? Of course he did—he was practically busting out of his shorts earlier. She sure as hell wouldn't say no, but was it too soon? And if they did have sex, would it ruin everything or make it better? Did he have any protection? She knew he used to have a box of condoms in his bottom drawer, because she'd heard him tell Liam to help himself, but with the amount of time Liam and Kate spent alone, that box had to have been emptied out by now. No, wait—she had a couple left over from…Ugh. Now was not the time to be thinking about Sam.

As she hit the bottom step, she closed her eyes and exhaled slowly, wishing her hand wasn't sweating so much.

“So…” She licked her lips, swallowed hard, and glanced up at him, hoping she didn't look half as freaked out as she actually was. “I can't believe we…that
I
…”

Instead of letting her finish, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. Short and sweet at first, then longer and slower until she melted against him, until there was but one thought left in her head.

God, yes. Sex.
Now
. And right there on the stairs would be just fine, thank you very much.

But instead of stripping naked and getting down to it, Finn groaned quietly and pressed a soft lingering kiss against her forehead.

“Fifty shades of blue,” he muttered. “Probably more.”

Then, with a twisted, tortured smile, he backed down the hall to his room and closed the door behind him.

Jessie grabbed the handrail for support and stood there trying—and failing—to blink her senses back. Sex with Finn on the stairs? Was she crazy?

He hadn't touched anything but her face, and yet that one touch had ignited her whole body to the point that she'd already pulled her pajama top off before she got in her room. Two seconds later, she had the bottoms off, too, and then flopped face-first onto her bed.

It didn't matter; even without clothes on, she was still flaming hot. When was the last time a guy had gotten her so worked up so fast and so easily?

Jessie frowned against her pillow. No, seriously, when? She'd been worked up before, but she didn't remember it ever happening that fast or that easily. Not. Even. Close.

“Holy shit, I'm in lust with Finn O'Donnell.”

Oh no, that couldn't be good, could it?

Are you nuts! It was going to be reeeeaalllly good.

Groaning, Jessie flipped onto her back and pressed her hands against her eyes.

This whole thing was a mistake. She shouldn't have kissed Finn, and she sure as hell shouldn't be thinking about having sex with him on the stairs. That's not how things happened with her.

But now that the idea had planted itself in her brain, she couldn't seem to shake it. Stairs in general wouldn't be comfortable, but those were hardwood, with nothing to cushion them, so they'd be exceptionally uncomfortable.

Finn would cushion them.

Stop it!

He'd barely touched her, so how the hell did he make her feel so many things all at the same time? And why the hell hadn't anyone ever told her that it was possible to feel protected, safe, and un-freaking-believably turned on all at the same time?

No.
No!
She shouldn't think about feeling safe or any of that other shit. She should focus on the sexy part of being with Finn, because then that's all it would be: lust.

And she could handle that.

So why did her mind keep wandering back to standing out in the water with him earlier? She'd been almost paralyzed with fear before she went under the first time, but he'd been right there, strong and sure, exactly as he'd promised, and by the third or fourth time, some of the broken pieces inside her started to connect, to meld again.

And that's when she realized she didn't need just anyone to be out in the lake with her, she needed Finn. She needed his arms to catch her, needed his voice to whisper in her ear, so proud of her as he pressed that kiss against her head. And she really needed his eyes to fill with the same heat and longing she had burning inside her.

Even when she'd told him she hated him (which she didn't mean for a second and instantly regretted), he held on to her a little tighter and gave her as much time as she needed to gather her strength again.

The crazy thing was, just knowing it was him helped her find it so much faster than she ever expected.

He'd pushed her when she'd needed him to but never once tried to rush her, even though it meant standing out there for so long. And the whole time, he'd hardly said a word.

It had been the first time anything or anyone had ever filled that empty quiet hole inside her. And that, right there, was going to be a problem, because up until that very moment she hadn't realized how tightly that empty quiet hole was latched to her heart.

Bad bad bad. Like supersize-me bad. Like the only possible way this was going to end would be with Jessie brokenhearted and living in an East End apartment with forty-nine cats kind of bad.

She knew Finn wouldn't mean to break her heart, but she also knew Finn was Finn, and just because he'd trusted her with what had happened with Maggie, that didn't mean he'd gotten over it or that he'd ever believe a woman would stay with him.

That was why she offered him the out tonight. The second either of his brothers found out about them, the pressure would be on Finn to do the “right” thing, and she couldn't let him be weighed down with that.

Had she been reckless by kissing him? Yes. But that was her choice, not his. Had she changed everything between them? Yup, no question, but standing out there in the lake with him, in that moment, the only things that mattered were the way the air crackled between them, the way his eyes pulled her in, and the way he held his breath until she brushed her lips against his.

Now, lying alone in her bed, she realized how much it all mattered. Even though Finn might have been feeling the same things for her, he never would have done anything about it if she hadn't made the first move. And why? Because he'd never want to hurt her.

But she'd gone and not only put herself in that position, she'd dragged him in there with her. It would kill Finn to hurt her, she knew that, but it wasn't something they could avoid now.

Unless…Yes! If she could keep herself in check, make sure she was only ever in lust with him, there'd be no problem. Women did it all the time these days; they had perfectly fine sexual relationships without giving their hearts away, so there was no reason Jessie couldn't do it, too.

And even though her conscience was already calling bullshit on this, no, she hadn't actually given him her heart yet. Not all of it anyway. Sure, she loved him; she'd always loved him. Big deal, she loved all her friends. And, okay, so what if she wanted to spend most of her free time with him instead of anyone else? So what if he was the only one she'd ever trusted completely? The only one she'd ever wanted to trust completely?

So what if that smile of his shot pure sunshine straight through her heart (
oh God, I've been reading too many romance novels
) and made her smile back for no good reason? So what if every single time he walked into the room her heart tripped a little bit (
shit!
) and made it hard to breathe for a second?

And so what if the thought of leaving the Buoys and never seeing him again made it feel like her heart was bleeding inside her chest?

“Oh God, I'm
so
screwed.”

No. She couldn't be. She wouldn't be. She just needed to be honest with herself about the whole thing. There was no denying Finn was an attractive guy. Okay, he was freakin' sexy, but still, that wasn't news; she'd always thought he was attractive.

No, not attractive: freakin' sexy.
Whatever
.

There was no denying she'd always felt close to him, and now that she thought about it, sure, she'd spent more time thinking about him than about any other guy she ever knew—and that included the guys she'd dated.

“Oh, that's not good.”

And if she was going to be brutally honest with herself—and this certainly wasn't anything she'd ever admit to anyone else—there'd been a few times over the years (
okay,
maybe more than a few
) when she'd been out with a guy and suddenly found herself comparing him to Finn.

Not about everything, but, you know, things like the way Finn made her laugh so easily, when other guys tried too hard. Or like how a couple of the guys she'd dated gave her flowers for her birthday or whatever, which was really nice and she appreciated them, but Finn gave her books for no reason at all and that…well, there was nothing better than that.

Jessie exhaled a long, slow breath while her brain scrambled to get a grasp on what was becoming painfully clear. All these years, bit by bit, Finn had slowly worked his way into her heart and she hadn't paid it any attention, because it had been easy to ignore.

Up until last spring he'd been living in Fort Mac, so they didn't see each other every single day. But now…Oh God, what did that mean? Was she actually in love with Finn? Because if she was, that was going to be a problem. A
big
problem.

“Don't be stupid,” she muttered. “If you even have to ask, then you're not.”

And then, in case she didn't believe herself, she repeated it again, a little louder.

“You're not.”

She could go back and forth with herself all night on the love angle, but there was one thing she couldn't deny even a little bit: She was absolutely 100 percent prime time in lust with him.

Her grandmother used to say that carnal thoughts would put a girl on the fast track to hell, and for the first time Jessie wondered if she was right, because, clearly, after tonight, that was the only place this road could possibly lead to.

By the time Jessie rolled out of bed the next morning, she didn't have the first damn clue what was going to happen, but somehow she had to let Finn know that she didn't expect anything more than what she already knew he could give.

“Hey.” Sitting in the kitchen with his feet up on one of the chairs and his hands wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee, Finn's first smile already had her fighting to keep a grip on her heart.

Lust, not love.

“Hey yourself,” she said, fighting the tremble in her voice.

Should she kiss him good morning?

God, yes
.

No! Coffee first. Right. Okay. A couple of slow sips and then she could face him. She started to talk, but unfortunately so did he.

“So about last night.”

“We should probably—”

They both stopped, but while Jessie was finding it increasingly difficult to breathe normally, Finn waved her over to the chair across from him, then sat up and rested his elbows on the table.

“Just say it, Jess.”

She hated having him look at her like that, his eyes flat and cold, as if he was expecting her to say they'd made a mistake and she wanted to forget it ever happened. As if he was expecting her to pull a Maggie and walk away.

A smart girl probably would have done precisely that, but she couldn't, because she didn't think it was a mistake, there was no way she would ever forget a single moment of it, and she was no Maggie.

Still, it took her almost half her coffee to figure out what she should say. And the whole time he just sat there, waiting, until she finally broke the silence.

“D'you know what I hate?”

Finn didn't even hesitate. “Kale.”

“Yes,” she snorted. “But besides that.”

“Wearing clothes that fit you?”

In all the different ways Jessie thought this morning would go, not once did she expect to start out by laughing.

“Okay, smart-ass, let me start over.” She took another long sip of her coffee before inhaling deeply. “I really hate that, in thirteen years, this morning is the first time I've ever thought twice about what I should do or say to you.”

She couldn't even look at him while she said it and had to resort to watching her finger run around the edge of her mug.

“Why?” His voice was low, hesitant. “I get that last night wasn't something either of us expected. Hoped for, maybe, but didn't expect.”

Smiling down at her mug, Jessie shrugged. “Hoped for but didn't expect.”

“I'm sure you were probably up all night stewing about it—don't try to deny it, I bet that hamster wheel inside your head's still spinning—so tell me, Jess. You're wishing it never happened, aren't you?”

“What? No!”

“But?”

“No,” she repeated, already impatient with herself. “It's not a but, exactly, it's just that…okay…
shit
. Can I just throw it out there?”

“Wish you would.”

He was annoyed and she couldn't blame him, but at the same time this wasn't exactly easy for her.

“Last night…that's not…I feel so stupid saying this, but I've never acted or felt like that before in my whole life.”

“Good.”

“No—not good!” Jessie blew out a breath, swallowed, and forced herself to go on. “I mean, all these years it's just been you, you know, and then suddenly a couple weeks ago I started thinking it's not
just
you, it
is
you.”

The tightness around his mouth started to smooth out a little, but he didn't say anything.

“And then everything had me thinking about that, about you, and wondering why the hell it changed. I didn't change, and you didn't change, so why now? Why were so many stupid things suddenly different?”