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She squealed as if he’d grabbed her. “Finn!”
The screen rolled again, this time capturing the two of them lying in the grass. His eyes focused on her like she was his whole world and then some.
“I can take you whenever I want. I don’t need a line for that.”
“Oh, really? What makes you so sure?” Charli’s eyebrows rose.
His finger slid over her neck, trailing down the middle of her breasts. She shuddered. “The way your body trembles under my touch.” He dipped his nose to her neck and inhaled. “You smell so fucking good. Rich as sin and sweet as heaven.”
“Finn.” Charli’s voice was breathy.
Finn’s cock grew hard. He shifted in his seat, eyes locked on the screen.
Finn leaned in and kissed her nose and then the smattering of freckles on either side of her face before he landed his lips on hers. She moaned, her hands wrapping around his shoulders.
He pulled back and smiled lovingly at her before tracing his thumb over her cheek and down her jaw. “Because you want me too. And I’m all yours, baby. Now and forever.”
She moved his mouth back to hers.
Fire and so much emotion radiated in his chest. His eyes remained glued to Charli and himself on the screen.
A rustling noise filtered through the speakers and then Finn’s finger hovered over the screen before it ended.
Wow. He shut the laptop and ran a hand over his face. He could feel the warm sunshine on his skin as if he were there, in that moment, who knew how long ago. He slammed his eyes closed. The prickly sensation of grass danced across his skin. His finger pressed against his lips. He could taste her kiss on his mouth. But was that because she’d kissed him last night? Or was it the memory from that day in the recording? He reached out into the deep, dark fog of his mind, grasping for anything tangible.
Sparks and glimmers. Flashes, long enough to know something was there but not what memory it was. The vision slipped through his fingers like sand.
Click.
He opened his eyes as the sound of keys jangling drew him back to the present. “Charli?”
“Yeah, I’m home. Just getting my shoes off.” Charli appeared around the corner a moment later. Finn checked his watch; it was seven thirty at night.
She walked in holding her lower back before falling into the cushions next to him.
“How was your meeting?” he asked.
She shifted, placing a pillow behind her, and pulled her foot over her knee, rubbing it with her hand. “It was okay.”
“What was it for?” He grabbed her tiny foot and settled it into his lap.
She stiffened, her eyes darting to him. As he pressed his thumb into the arch, she tipped her head back and moaned before relaxing into the sofa. The sound shot straight to his dick. Just like it had when he’d watched the video.
“It’s, uh, kinda private. But it’s a meeting for survivors of sexual assault and trauma.”
His hand paused. Bently said she hadn’t been . . . but maybe someone else had? “Your—” He cleared his throat. “Your attacker . . .?” He couldn’t even say the words out loud.
She shook her head. His shoulders relaxed away from his ears as he returned to massaging her foot.
“He didn’t rape me, but he did sexually assault me in . . . other ways. It helps me to go to the meetings.”
He nodded and switched to her other foot. If he ever got his hands on the fucker who thought it was okay to put a hand on a woman—his woman. Shit. His woman? Well, Charli was his wife. Couldn’t get more his than that.
She moaned again as he squeezed the edge of her foot, working his way up to her tiny toes. He shifted her foot away from the steel rod in his pants. There wasn’t much she had to do before that traitor stood to attention. But those fucking delicious sounds coming from her and the sensation of her skin on his was enough for him to worry about coming in his pants. Jesus, fuck! What the hell?
“You used to do this for me,” Charli whispered as if she wasn’t sure she should speak.
He tipped his face towards her, like he had any other choice than to look upon perfection itself. “I did?”
