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Finn’s phone rang again.
Colleen nodded to his phone. “You should take the call. Somebody’s really trying to get a hold of you.”
“Okay, but I’m still waiting for your answer,” Finn said, taking out his phone and tapped a few buttons. “Hey, Sean.” He listened for a few moments. “No, we’re in the park.” Finn continued to listen and then looked up at Colleen. “All right. Give us a few minutes, okay?” he said, ending the call. “You’re out of chocolate ice cream. Your dad asked him to pick up some from Scoops.”
“That’s just great,” Colleen said with sarcasm. They hadn’t even been gone long and now her brother would be here soon.
“So, what’s your answer?” he asked, leaning in closer.
There was no doubt Finn was a charmer, but her lack of experience exposed a vulnerability that Colleen couldn’t ignore. Many people told her she was smart and pretty, but deep down, something mocked her that she would never be like other girls. Her insecurity came roaring back. She tried to keep her tone casual when she said, “I wouldn’t want to take you away from all your girlfriends.”
He looked at her in surprise. “I don’t have a girlfriend. I date a lot of girls, but none of them matters to me,” he said in a deep whisper. “Only you do.”
Colleen stared at him in wonder and swallowed,her throat as dry as sandpaper.He was dead serious.
“Let me prove it to you.” He leaned in close and brushed his lips against hers, giving her a gentle kiss. “How many boys have you kissed?”
“A few,” she whispered against his mouth.
“How many men have you kissed?” he asked, his eyes never leaving hers as he waited for her answer.
“None.”
Finn gave her a slow smile. He held her face between his hands and kissed her, shifting his mouth for better access. His kiss wasn’t clumsy like those she’d had from the boys at school. Finn’s kiss was skillful and possessive, teasing her lips apart, the sharp taste of beer still on his tongue. Her body reacted to his with a low moan.He tugged on her bottom lip with his teeth, and need arced through her, spreading warmth through every limb.
She liked flirting with boys, but when they became aggressive, something deep inside her tensed and she would make them stop. She froze in uncertainty. She shouldn’t do this and yet she didn’t want Finn to stop.
“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, his voice full of concern as he looked her over.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she glanced around, hoping that nobody was watching them. It wasn’t just her upbringing that had taught her that good girls do not kiss boys in public. Her hesitation was based on an intricate and deeply rooted warning system, designed to protect her since she’d been a young girl.But she wanted to be with Finn. Sheyearned for his touch. She wanted him to kiss her and make all her insecurities disappear. Colleen took a deep breath and tried to relax. She reminded herself, she wasn’t with just any boy, she was with Finn. She was safe.
“Do you want me to kiss you? I’ll stop if you don’t want to.”
She turned slightly to hide her blush. No other boy ever checked with her like this before. Finn genuinely cared about how she was feeling. If a boy she kissed became too demanding, she’d push them away and she’d never talk to them again. But Finn wasn’t pushing her. She found the courage to lift her eyes to him. “I don’t want you to stop.”
Finn wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. Kissing her deeper, his fingers weaved through her hair.
His kiss ignited a longing she’d never experienced before. Her mind was torn between what she should do and her need for more. “Finn,” she said, placing her hands on his lower back, causing his T-shirt to ride up, his skin warm to the touch.
He let out a soft groan.
“Is something wrong?” she asked, excited by his response to her touch.
“No. Nothing’s wrong.” He gave her a leisurely kiss. “Everything is right. So right.” He feathered kisses up to the nape of her neck, taking small nibbles of skin between his teeth.
Finn murmured something. His voice was so low, she couldn’t understand him.
She brushed her lips against his neck, inhaling the scent of chlorine still lingering on his skin.
He repeated the same phrase over and over again.
She cradled his cheeks with her hands. “What are you saying?”
He searched her eyes. “Clíodhna.”
“What?” she asked, pulling away from him. “No one ever calls me that.”
“It’s your name,” he said, his brows drawn together. “It’s who you are. Clíodhna.”
