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All right. I can feed him and keep my pulse from running out of control at the sexiness of it. I give him a piece of apple pie. While he chews, I scoop up a bite of stuffing. The cold pie and warm stuffing are best served one right after the other. Eat. Repeat.
“Not bad,” Finn says when finished with four bites.
“Want more?” I wave a forkful of pie in front of him.
“No, thanks. I’m good.”
I shrug and gobble it myself. We eat in pleasant silence, rarely taking our eyes off each other. “Have you ever been pants drunk?” I ask out of the blue.
“Depends. What is it?”
“It’s when you get drunk at home by yourself in your underwear.”
“Are you implying you’d like to get pants drunk with me right now?”
“I’m not in my underwear.”
“No. You’re in my shirt.” He traces his finger along my collarbone and down to my cleavage. “And look sexy as hell. Is there a Women & Pie Instagram? Because I could take a picture of you right now and break the platform with the response.”
“You do realize talk like that to a social media manager is like porn, right?”
He laughs. “I’ve thought the same thing when you talk baseball.”
“Really?”
“Webster, your brain in combination with your body is a direct link to my dick.”
“So, if I was to, say, tick off some of your stats, like your OBP was .460 this year, with seventy-nine RBIs and ten HBPs, you’d get excited by that?” I glance down at his lap. He’s sporting some major league wood. “Mmmm. Seems so.”
Faster than I can say Silver Slugger Award, Finn has the food off the bed and me spread out beneath him. “Condom?”
“In the drawer.” I lift my chin toward my nightstand.
Finn wastes no time. His magic fingers touch me until I’m squirming with need and then he covers himself and slides home. This round is less hurried and more controlled. He moves inside me like a slow song is playing in the background. We kiss, we rub noses, we suck and kiss each other’s necks. My hands wander over his shoulders, into his hair.
“Wrap your legs around me,” he commands.
I do and he rolls onto his back, taking me with him so I’m on top and riding him, setting a new tempo. Controlling our rhythm. A pulsing and throbbing that ends with us coming at the same time.
“You’re incredible,” he says, looking up at me.
“You, too.” I bend down to give him a kiss. It’s just a peck, but I hope it conveys how wonderful tonight has been.
We crawl under the covers and talk more. About baseball, Finn’s family, Sammy, and my bridesmaid dress. He finally confesses to buying me a new one and tells me about his cousin, Meredith. She assured him it was exactly the same measurements and I’d never know the difference. I stick my tongue out at him and announce I’m paying him back. He says the only currency he’ll accept from me is kisses.
“Can I ask you something?” Finn whispers after a few minutes of cozy silence.
I’m tucked under his arm, my head on his chest. “Sure.”
“Will you tell me about your dad’s illness?”
My muscles tense, but only for a moment. It’s a fair question. And after the day and night we’ve had together, a question I find myself content to answer. Finn is on the quieter side, a lone wolf who loves his family. He’s stoic, funny, tough. He’s an incredible athlete and not an egomaniac. His career is his first love, as evidenced by his insane work ethic and accomplishments and the fact that as far as I can tell, he hasn’t had a serious girlfriend since making it to the majors. All this to say, I like him. A lot. And I trust him.
Which leaves me vulnerable.
Worried I’m setting myself up for heartache all over again. I can lie to myself all I want and say it won’t bother me if Finn meets the girl of his dreams and fits her into his baseball life, but the truth is it would.
“He’s going to be okay, right?” Finn asks when I’ve yet to say something.
