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I snort at the thought. Because that has happened before. Learning to move around on one leg is no joke. I have had many bumps and bruises from trying to learn to move around while missing a limb.
Finn mutters under his breath and then leans down and pulls me into his arms despite my weak and not very convincing protests. The towel drops away from my waist as he does so and puddles on the ground, forgotten.
I press my naked body against him, wishing he wasn’t wearing a shirt so I could rub myself all over him. For the short five-step walk to my room, I just nuzzle my face against his neck and inhale him.
Even before a shower, he has a unique scent—earth, evergreen tree, and chlorine. He even smells like home.
He sets me gently on the bed and I don’t even bother covering my dick up. It just hangs limply between my legs as he walks over to the dresser and tosses me my boxers, a pair of pants, and a shirt.
“I’ll be back,” he says and then disappears.
I hear the shower turn on as I pull the t-shirt over my head and then work my pants on. Let me tell you, this missing leg thing was a learning process. Who knew that putting pants on with a prosthetic could be so hard?
I figured it out though. First, I put the pants on over the prosthetic, then attach the prosthetic to the end of my leg, and lastly, pull the jeans the rest of the way up.
It took a lot of frustration and tears to figure this shit out. Plus a lot of YouTube videos. Thank god for the internet.
When Finn reemerges with a towel around his tapered waist, he grabs his clothes from the dresser and drops the towel.
I sit and watch him dress, taking comfort in the familiarity of it—the lines of his body and the way his muscles bunch beneath his skin, how fluidly he moves.
When he’s done, he turns around and startles a little.
Yes, Finn, I’m staring at you creepily.
“What?” he asks, reaching out for my hands and pulling me up.
“I was just admiring your hot ass.”
“Jesus, you can’t say shit like that to me.”
“Try and stop me, Finn,” I reply and he just sighs in resignation.
“Yeah, alright, smartass. Ready to go?” he asks, his arm moving around my waist.
I lean against him, my hand sliding across his back. “Yeah, let’s go. You don’t want to see me hangry, Finn.”
“Yeah, too late for that.”
two
LANDON
“Do you feel more human now?”Finn asks as I stare at him over the mug filled with coffee.
We are tucked into an oversized chair in the local coffee shop, my leg thrown over his.
He’s leaned back, his large hand cradling a mug as he watches me with a smirk.
“Slightly,” I say, taking a long, indulgent sip. “I probably need another cup to be fully functioning.”
“There’s barely any coffee in there. It’s just sugar and milk.”
“God, but who cares, it’s so damn good,” I say, my tongue running across my upper lip, removing the foam I’m sure is stuck there. Finn’s eyes track the movement before shifting away, looking intently at the people milling around the pickup counter.
“Got any more of that scone left for me?” I ask, drawing his attention back to me.
Finn breaks a piece off of his blueberry scone, and instead of letting go of my mug, I just open my mouth and let him slide the piece right inside. His fingers brush against my tongue and I close my lips around them.
