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Weak Without Him Page 2
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"Hold on. Jesus, I'm not going to let you take me in the kitchen."
"I can't take the willing," she said as she continued to undo each button on my shirt.
God was she right.
I hiked her dress up over waist and caught sight of her bare body. No panties. "You are so fucking naughty," I said.
She removed the dress until she stood completely naked with boots zipped to her knees. My pants still hugged my waist and every inch of me needed her. As she pulled me in, I stopped and pushed away from her.
"I'm not going to fuck you in the kitchen." I grabbed her hand and led her beautiful ass to my bedroom. Once inside, she glanced at the king-size bed and all of the surrounding furniture.
She walked to the picture frames on top of the dresser and picked up the silver frame with a photo from my wedding day. She stared for minutes before speaking. A lump formed in the back of my throat, and I sucked in a deep breath before taking the frame from her hand and gently setting it back on the dresser where it had been for the past seven years. She looked into my eyes with so much pity and pain.
"Don’t pity me."
"I don't. She was beautiful."
My desire to lay Jennifer down on my bed and make sweet love to her instantly disappeared. How stupid was I to leave all of those pictures on the dresser? A part of me regretted not putting my memories of Jackie away, but I had to keep them with me because I was afraid that if I moved the frames I would forget her. Forget the way she looked when she smiled. Forget the freckles that sprinkled across her nose, or the sound of her voice and laugh. Most of the small things that I love had almost vanished with time, but occasionally she would visit me in my dreams and leave me with a piece of her. I had several memories of her locked away in my heart, and they would stay there forever. Although I was ready to move on and be with Jennifer, I wasn't ready to forget Jackie. I would never be ready to forget her.
I zipped my pants and left the room. The pictures combined with the smell of Jennifer and her beautiful naked body became too much. My feelings for both women crossed and intermingled with one another, and I had to walk away.
Having a seat at the barstool in the kitchen, I drank the glass of wine that Jennifer poured. I would have to fight my demons, or I would never be able to fully move on. Fucking emotions.
Three
I really hated being nosey. Why did I grab the picture of his wife on their wedding day? Couldn't I have just let the curiosity consume me later? Much later, like after we had made sweet love to one another? I wanted Finnley so fucking bad that it hurt. But it also hurt to know that he was hurting, and although I said I didn't pity him, a small part of me did. He was a widower at twenty-three. Terrible things like that happened to people, but not often, and usually not at such a young age. Losing both parents had almost destroyed me, and they would never be replaced. A lover, on the other hand, could.
If I were in his situation, I wondered if I would look for someone else, or if I would just stay alone forever. I buried those thoughts, because I didn't know the answer and wouldn't bathe in the negativity that seemed to surround me.
Instead of following Finn, I let him go, even if just for a few minutes. It sucked, but I had learned to leave him alone while at the Estates, and I would do the same here.
While I was in his room, I took my time looking at all the pictures on the dresser. She was beautiful. Dark hair and eyes, with freckles lightly brushed across her nose. Everything about her was perfect. She was genuinely pretty. I could see why Finnley loved her.
I almost imagined her voice, soft and sincere. In one picture, she laughed so hard that I wondered what Finnley had said before he snapped the moment. Pictures of their wedding day and random trips were scattered across the dresser. He looked so young, so in love, and so…. vulnerable. The man that ran The Elite was not the man in these pictures. Something in him had changed.
I sighed and unzipped the boots from my legs.
Still naked, I walked into the kitchen, moved behind Finnley, and massaged his muscular shoulders. Then I slowly kissed up the back and sides of his neck. He swiveled the barstool around, and I moved between his legs. He rested his forehead upon mine and closed his eyes.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"Don’t be."
I brushed my lips against his painting my emotions with kisses, and his intensity grew, almost matching mine.
"You should have just fucked me on the counter," I said.
"No."
Finnley pulled me into his arms and carried me into his room. He set me down on the soft blankets, and I pulled him onto the bed beside me.
"What?" I asked and looked at him incredulously.
"Sometimes you are so damn ridiculous."
I sat up in bed and slapped his stomach. "No, I'm not! Asshole."
"Yes, you are. How did I end up in here again? Wait, it's because you're ridiculous and relentless when you want something."
"Well I can't deny that."
Then he was on top of me, smiling, staring into my eyes and kissing my neck. His lips trailed up and down my body, finishing with my mouth.
"You drive me crazy, you know." His thumb swept across my bottom lip, and I kissed it.
"Make love to me," I said, reaching down to unfasten his pants.
He slid them off along with his underwear, and I felt his hardness outside of me, waiting for me to give him the go-ahead.
"Please," I begged.
"You don't have to beg me. I will give you anything you want. Every piece of me if you want it."
"Good, because I fucking need it," I whispered, and grazed my fingernails down his back.
He entered me slowly, and I gasped with sweet satisfaction.
"You're so wet," he whispered in my ear.
"You do that to me," I said.
Wanting to take in every inch, I urged him deeper and pushed my body into him. His movements were slow, in and out. The whole experience of it all was still new and foreign, and I never wanted to forget the way he felt inside of me, making me feel so damn good.
I moaned with satisfaction as his movements quickened. I was kissing him and coaxing him to lie on his back. He didn't argue with me, even though I really didn't know what the hell I was doing. All I knew was that I needed to be in control. I wanted to rock his world.
He placed his hands behind his head and watched me with a smile as I straddled him, my legs squeezing against his hips. I sucked in a deep breath as I slowly guided him inside me. I gasped and sat perfectly still. Gently, I grazed my hands across his stomach muscles, then bent over and kissed his mouth. With every movement I made, I felt him. I began rocking my hips in small circles as Finnley tugged at my bottom lip with his teeth. His hands guided my every movement, until roaming to my nipples. When he pinched, I moaned.
I grabbed onto the headboard and slid up and down him more frequently with long strides. When his hands found their way to my ass, he squeezed and moved along with me. I reached behind me and interlocked his fingers with mine, forcing his hands above his head as I continued to ride him. Then I leaned back and let his hands guide my hips on top of him. I moaned his name as he hit spots I didn't know existed.
As my orgasm built, Finnley continued to make me feel so fucking good. Each movement became deeper, wilder, and more aggressive. Together we moved with one another in a rhythm that made my head spin, my muscles tighten, and my upper thighs tremble.
"That's it, baby. I can feel you tightening. Come on me. We can come together," he whispered.
I moved more forcefully on him, and he pushed himself deeper into me. After a few more deep thrusts, the orgasm pulsated its way through my body, shifting my world. Then Finn came and filled me with himself; we were buckling with one another, experiencing the ultimate release and satisfaction together. I felt I had been ripped from my body by the overwhelming emotions that coursed through me as I toppled on Finn's chest with him still inside me. Our rapid breathing steadied, and I couldn't focus on anything:
not on Finn, or myself, or the fact that I was fucking him in his bed, or that I had agreed to live with him. I had lost myself in pure sexual bliss, and I didn't give a shit that I barely remembered my own name.
A few minutes passed, and I slid off of him. He held me in his arms, and I heard his heart beat slowing to a steady pace. Fucking Finnley Felton fucked with my feelings, now I couldn't get rid of him. And the truth of the matter was, I didn't want to. If someone had told me six months ago that my life would lead to this exact moment, I would have never believed it.
"Oh." I lifted my head and looked into his eyes. He smiled.
"I almost forgot to mention, you owe me $800,000," I said.
"For?"
"For my V-card."
He actually scoffed. I rested my head on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around my body.
That's right, time to pay up, beyatch.
"So I assume you want it in singles? Shall I make it rain?"
"Whatever you want to do."
"On a more serious note, what do you want to do today?"
"You," I said.
He laughed and then we laid in silence for a while.
"I've been meaning to ask you a question for some time now."
"Okay?"
"Why did you strip in my office so willingly? Or agree to sell your virginity? Normal, logical people don't do things like that. You're a smart intelligent woman, and it seems out of character, almost unrealistic in a sense."
"Sometimes a person does something just to do it. I don't understand why that's so hard to understand. I was in a new city. Truth be told, I was tired of fitting in the fucking box. Before I came here, I was predictable prude Jennifer. I didn't want to be the same person I was in Texas. I wanted to be someone different with someone different. Sometimes people take chances for the hell of it. Good enough answer for you?" I purred.
He lifted an eyebrow. "But you already had everything you needed. What did you have to gain?"
"The real question you should be asking me is what did I have to lose?"
No response. I had caught him off guard. I loved that.
"I'm going to take a shower, then I'm taking you shopping. Your winter wear is drab."
"What if I don't want to go shopping?"
"I don’t think you have a choice," he said.
Some things would never change.
Four
While Finnley showered, I dressed. As naughty as I was, I walked back into the kitchen, pulled the sweater dress over my body, and zipped up my boots. Hair, although a little wild, would stay exactly how it was. I wanted to wear our sex throughout the day.
Finnley wore a pair of tattered jeans and a black t-shirt with some odd circle arrow design on it. Designer, I knew it had to be, but other than that, he looked like a normal twenty-nine year old. No suit, tie, or expensive shoes. Just jeans, sneakers, and a t-shirt. I smiled at how good he made plain look.
"Like what you see?"
"Hmm. Let me think about that," I said.
His strong body pressed against mine. He reached over my shoulder and grabbed the keys to V from the counter. The warmth and smell of his clean body made my breath catch.
"Of course you do," he said.
I followed him to the garage, and we got in V and closed the doors at the same time. Finnley backed out of the driveway, and we were on our way. The soft leather conformed to my body, and I sunk into the seat. Sprinkles hit the windshield, but the rain didn't stop Finnley from weaving in and out of traffic. Not much stopped him from doing what he wanted.
When we arrived, he asked me different questions about my style.
Style, what the hell was that?
He decided he would be dressing me, since I had no clue what I wanted to wear and didn't have a preference. Department stores, malls… wow. Today would be interesting, nonetheless.
A cute young woman, no older than nineteen or twenty, greeted us. Finnley described what he wanted, down to the different types of fabrics, and listed designer names I had never heard of. She led us to the back of the store close to the dressing rooms. "Elegant but sexy," Finnley told her. Before I could comprehend what happened, Escada, Adam Lippes, Akris Punto, Gucci, and Lela Rose were being pulled from the racks; the thousand dollar price tags dangling from the sleeves.
"I cannot let you spend this kind of money on me," I whispered.
"Nonsense."
"Finn, seriously, this is too much."
He stopped walking and glared at me.
"You're the one that said I owed you $800,000. I'm paying you off penny by penny, so accept it."
I rolled my eyes and followed him and Miss Prissy to the dressing rooms. He stood outside while I tried on the outfits.
"How do they look?"
"Why don't you come in and see for yourself?" I cracked open the door.
The next thing I knew, he was pushing his way into the dressing room, and his face lit up as he caught sight of me wearing an Akris black, double-face wool, zip-shoulder, flare dress. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.
"This is how you should dress all the time." He placed his hands on my waist. "See how it accentuates your waist and forms to your body? Make note of it. I want to see the coat dress next."
I turned around, and he unzipped the form fitting fabric from my body. It fell to the floor, and I stepped out of the $3000 dress then slipped on the one he requested. The flared collar and wool fabric with built-in pockets seemed more like something I would wear. Plus it was warm. Even better, I had a Peplum jacket in the same style waiting.
"This one isn't so bad, is it?" I actually liked it. Over my shoulder, I looked at him.
I went toward him and stood inches from his face.
"I'm as bored as that dress."
"Are you kidding me? Look at this collar. Collars do not make people look boring."
"I disagree."
"Who died and made you the fashion police?"
"The same person who died and gave you that smart ass mouth."
This was the Finnley I knew and loved.
I reached my hand down to his pants and ripped open the button, then unzipped them violently.
He lifted an eyebrow at me. "The same person who died and made you think you could do whatever the fuck you want, whenever you want, and wherever you want," he whispered in my ear.
Then I dropped to my knees and yanked down his jeans, but he didn't protest. No sensible man would. He wasn't completely hard, but I knew that would change when I placed him in my mouth. The combination of eye contact and licking worked like magic.
Lightly, I grazed up his length with my lips and licked down to the tip, making sure my tongue covered every inch. I wanted him to feel my eagerness to please. Then I placed him in my mouth, starting slow, and trying to push him, all of him, into me. He gave out a stifled moan as I varied my speeds and intensity and combined my mouth with my hands. I looked up into his eyes, and he watched me hungrily. When he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall, and when his quad muscles tightened, I knew he was getting close. So I slowed my rhythm, and moved my fingers up his legs, then grazed fingernails down his abs as I picked up the pace. Deep groans, and the anticipation of his orgasm built. But he wouldn't come until I allowed it, because I was in control.
Continuing to drive him wild, I nibbled and licked my way up and down him. Then I forced him deeper into my mouth, wanting him to know how much I enjoyed making him feel good. His hands found their way to my hair, and he interlaced the strands between his fingers. I worked faster, and harder, pulling him closer to the edge. When he whispered he was close, I pushed him more forcefully and deeper into my throat until he released himself. I felt the orgasmic wave and heard the soft moan as he came. I swallowed every drop of him, making sure nothing was left behind or wasted. The taste wasn't my favorite but I did it to please him. I stood up, bit my bottom lip, and stared into his eyes.
"Don't say I never gave you anything," I said, echoing the same wor
ds he whispered to me in his office.
"Yeah? I still think the dress is boring." He ran his hands up my stomach, grabbed the material in his fists, and ripped it open. Buttons popped and landed on the floor, and his hands found their way to my bare breasts.
"It's not so boring, now."
"Because it's destroyed." I removed the ripped clothing from my shoulders and put on my sweater dress, knowing we had taken too long in the dressing room.
"Oh, and I'll take everything you picked out, since you are indeed the chief of fashion."
He zipped his pants, and I exited the dressing room smiling with satisfaction. Knowing that I brought him over the edge pleased me.
The woman stood at the counter and asked how everything fit. I smiled and responded sweetly. "Once I had a taste of designer, I decided I wanted it all."
I pretended to glance through the jackets on the rack as she scurried toward the dressing room. She returned to the counter with every piece of clothing in her arms. Finnley followed behind her. If she worked on commission, today would be like winning the lottery.
Finn smiled with delight as the woman kindly mentioned the wool coatdress had several buttons missing, and she couldn't sell it in that state.
He bit his bottom lip, and she gushed.
Eye roll.
"Really? How many buttons are missing, exactly?" He glanced over at me and leaned coolly on the counter. She pointed down the dress as she counted.
"At least six of the ten buttons. I'm not sure how something like this happens. My manager will be upset. This is completely unsellable."
"I'll buy it how it is," he said.
Her eyes lit up, and then she gave him her best pouty-lips look. He was such a player.
"But it's ruined. Look, even the fabric is ripped along the seam." She held the dress and showed the rip of the collar.
"I won't tell, if you won't," he whispered. I thought her legs might buckle from beneath her, but instead she smiled and scanned every piece of clothing from the dressing room, including the wool dress.