His thumb made it back to her left nipple, which was still striving for his touch. “It means exclusive.”
Her throat tightened at the idea of committing to one person, even if that person was Finn.
“You want to fuck other women, I’m down with that. Hell, I’ll even join in and fuck you while you do. If they’re down for it too – obvs.”
Dirty, dirty boy, saying dirty words. She was pretty sure she was dying and this was what heaven felt like. She shifted her weight, hoping for some kind of friction against her pussy, but it didn’t work.
“You wanna be spitroasted, gangbanged, and worshipped like the sexual goddess you are, you talk to me. We’ll work something out.”
Holy. Fucking. Spitroast. While his words vied for her attention, the tiny, featherlight circles he made around her nipple were taking up all her bandwidth. Spitroasted. By Finn and someone else. A shudder passed through her. If he kept putting ideas into her head, she’d come right there in front of him in her living room. Would he notice if her hand slipped into her shorts?
“But at night, you’re mine. It’s just us. You don’t go fucking people without me at least knowing about it. And I’ll fuck you as many times as you want.”
Her chest heaved. He’d notice. He’d probably even help. But he needed to say his piece and she needed to let him.
Her head bobbed in agreement, but her core was heavy and tugging her to sink to her knees. She’d known Finn was an adventurous man, but something about how he was offering her freedom and commitment at the same time melted her frozen insides. Could it really be true? Was it possible for someone to love her, and be in a relationship with her, yet still accept that sometimes she might want to be fucked in all holes at the same time? Surely not. Her clit tingled, her heart short circuited.
He sucked in a breath and shook his head, like it was now or never. “I love you Molly Morrison. Always have. And I’m on the edge of what might have been and what’s left to lose.” His somber tone, and the words coming out of his delicious mouth snapped her out of her horny stupor.
He said the L-word. Again. Just spat it out onto the growing web of emotions pulling them toward each other. It hadn’t been an accident. She couldn’t even pretend to herself he’d meant it like a faux-brother. He really meantlove, love.
Holy.
Fuck.
He was still talking, but she had to strain to hear him over her ragged breathing filling the room. “I can’t fucking bear watching you dating other men, Molly. I can’t. Each time I see you with someone… someone who isn’t me…” His voice cracked. “It rips another layer right off my heart.”
She jolted forward, reaching out to rub his chest, to try to ease his pain. She knew what it felt like, watching someone you love be kissed and touched by someone else, watching someone else make him laugh. She nodded. She loved him too. She couldn’t bring herself to say it, but maybe he already knew, maybe he could see it in her eyes when she looked at him. Maybe she’d grow to love him so much that she’d be brave enough to say it out loud.
“I know that Will…” His voice broke again and she slammed her eyes shut, trying to block out his words. They didn’t need to bring him up, they didn’t need to mention her brother, or talk about how he’d flip out and kill them both. Except they did, and Finn was never one to ignore the elephant in the room – unless of course it was his love for her, for five freakin’ years.
“Look.” He cupped her face and his piercing stare cut through all the white noise, speaking straight to her soul. “Letting go gives us freedom, and freedom is the only condition for happiness. If in our hearts we are still clinging to anything, we cannot be free. You live in my heart, Molly. I can’t ever be free.”
Dead. Deceased. No longer alive. Shit. Was she crying?
“Who are you and what have you done with my Finny?” She sniffed. “That was… some soppy ass shit right there.”
He grinned and nodded. “Nice, right? I can’t claim credit. Thich Nhat Hanh.”
“Bless you.”
He chuckled. “He’s a Buddhist monk.”
“You converted?”
“Austin’s a Buddhist. He leaves these sticky notes with quotes around the locker room sometimes when our juju is off, or when someone’s having a bad time. He thinks we don’t know it’s him but…” He shrugged. “We’re kind of getting off message right now, Doll.”
Damnit. He noticed her dirty tactic to pivot away from talking about The Feels. Of course he had, it wasn’t exactly subtle. “The feelings…”
“I know. But we need to have this one talk, to get us both on the same page so we both know where we stand and how we feel and then I won’t make you deal with icky feelings for like at least a week.”
“Three.”
“Two.”
“Deal.”
“I know that asshole in high school broke your heart.”
