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Here I actually laugh, because beneath my hand there’s no doubting how hard he is. “Areyou?” I fire back, and I wrap my hand around him, giving him a single, firm, deliberate stroke.
Finlay’s head sags backward, his inky hair spilling across the headrest. “Fuck.”
I tighten my hand around his erection. “Is that what you’ll say when Rory catches you?”
He purses his lips, his fingers digging sharply into the sides of my hips, as though to get me to stop. “He willnae catch us.”
“But what if he does? What if he wants to know where I am? So he comes downstairs looking for me, and he sees his girlfriend, the newly inaugurated member of the chiefs, knee-deep in his best friend’s cock. What then?”
I don’t know when I got so bold, but by the time I finish speaking, I realize I’m breathless myself.
Finlay’s eyes narrow at me. “Fuckin’ hell, you reallyaregettin’ aff on this.”
“Shush,” I mutter, an embarrassed flush painting my cheeks. “Besides, this shouldn’t be some clandestine thing. This shouldn’t be something we do in secret. What happened to it being the three of us?”
Finlay gives me a pained look, like maybe our candid conversation from earlier wasn’t reality but fantasy, that he doesn’t truly believe we can all be together.
But I do. I feel it in my bones, in my heart, in every touch-starved part of my anatomy. I feel like Rory would let me do anything with anyone, as long as I’m back by his side by a certain time, with his possessive arm curled around me and no questions asked. For some unknowable reason, he’s so fucking into me and he wants the world to know why.
So he’d let me love the world. His world. And a significant portion of that world comprises Finlay.
I kiss Finlay again, and this time his tongue enters my mouth, a sweet, teasing thing that twines slowly around mine. We search each other out, exploring tentatively, as though we know we’re overstepping the mark.
When I pull away from Finlay, I whisper warmly into his ear, “He’d join in. I know he would.” Finlay shakes his head like he can’t even consider that scenario, like he’d be mortally wounded if it couldn’t be true.
“Ye dinnae understand,” he whispers, his fingers plunging deep against the flesh of my backside. “For as long as I’ve known him, I’ve wanted him. And for as long as I’ve known ye, I’ve wantedyou. I mean, fuck, sassenach, right noo ye’re top o’ an extremely short list. Ye’re right here and I dinnae want tae think about him, so dinnae even start.”
“But he gets you hard,” I point out, idly running my knuckles up his rock-hard cock. “And I get you hard. So what is it you’re resisting?”
Finlay’s eyes slide closed and he releases a controlled breath. “The possibility that it willnae exist. That the fantasy is a’ I deserve.”
“Well then,” I say as I begin to stroke his cock in earnest, “at least let me make one fantasy real for you tonight.”
