Page 39 of Finlay

More days passed. Many mornings of sneakily ogling Finn as he swam, followed by breakfasts and conversations with Buddy.

Evenings too. The dog seemed to have a sixth sense about when I’d be home from work. He was always sat right outside my front door, tail wagging as I got out of the car and headed up to fuss him.

It was nice, coming home to someone who was happy to see me.

I hadn’t had that in a long time.

As lovely as it was, I lived in perpetual fear that Buddy’s owner would one day appear. That they’d take him awayand forbid me to spend any more time with him. Then I’d be back to my silent mornings with no one to chat to.

Reid was right. Maybe I did need to put myself out there more if I was pinning all hopes of social interaction on a pet that wasn’t even mine. It was an opinion he’d shared with me multiple times in the days following Evan’s and Finn’s visits. Seeing him in a vulnerable state had me opening up to Reid a bit and chatting to him about things outside of work.

Which had, apparently, given him licence to nag me about my life. Or, more specifically, my lack of one. Especially on the romance front.

Thing was, Reid didn’t know about my past. About how terrified I was of losing my sense of self again. Of falling in love only to find myself trapped in a prison of my own making.

Yes, I was lonely. But I was safe.

I couldn’t ignore the butterflies in my stomach every morning when I watched Finn from my window though. How my eyes hungrily devoured him. The way my cock stiffened and physically ached to be touched, and not by me.

It was a sign that I was ready for more, but not a relationship. Not intimacy. Nothing where someone else had any semblance of control over me.

But maybe…maybe I was ready to get laid. With enough precautions in place, I could enjoy it, right?

Fuck, I hoped so. It had been so long since I’d had a decent orgasm at the hands of another person. With Matt, the sex hadn’t been great. While I was vers with a preference for bottoming, Matt was a strict bottom.Not that he’d said that when we first met. He’d said he was vers too, but in all our time together, he hadn’t topped once. In fact, hedidn’t like ass play at all unless his hole was the one being played with.Then, he was all for it.

Sex between us had been scheduled. Always in bed. Always in the missionary position. Always following the exact foreplay Matt preferred.

Most of the time, I didn’t even get to come. As soon as Matt got his, all activities would come to a stop as he claimed he was too tired to continue. For the first few months, I’d scurry off to the bathroom to take care of myself. It was normal, I’d told myself. What was important was that Matt was happy. This was what he liked, and I was giving him that.

Again, my eyes weren’t opened until I was in too deep. I lay there one night as Matt snored next to me and realised my cock had gone soft as soon as I’d pulled out of him. I had no desire to go to the bathroom to finish myself off. It had continued like that, and the worst thing? It barely even bothered me. Sex was just another thing Matt had ruined.

I stared at Finn through the window, following his sure and steady strokes. Would he be like that?

I didn’t think so. Something told me Finn liked to take his time with his lovers. To use those big hands to tease and please. That he was a man who didn’t need sex to be clinical and organised.

A man who wouldn’t leave his partner unsatisfied.

My hole twitched at the thought. Thanks to Finn’s predilection for swimming in the nude, I knew exactly what he was packing. God had apparently gave with both hands in Finn’s case. I’d spent many lonely nights picturing it, imagining the delicious stretch I’d feel for days afterwards.

I looked out the window with a sigh, rearranging myself to relieve the pressure on my erection. I needed to stop obsessing over the man. Other than his morning swims, Ihadn’t seen him. He hadn’t been back into the shop, and our paths hadn’t crossed anywhere else.

Even if they did, would I get up the nerve to flirt with him? Probably not. Besides, doing that might make him think I want more. Dates. A relationship.

In reality, I just wanted one night with him. A few hours when he made me forget all the weight I carried on my shoulders. When I didn’t feel insecure about my body, but empowered. A sexual encounter that left me feeling satisfied instead of hollow.

It was a lot of expectation to put on one person.

Which was precisely why I wasn’t going to.

Finn walked up onto the shore right outside my house. My mouth dried out at the sight of his thick, soft cock swinging between his thighs. His lightly fuzzed balls that I desperately wanted to nuzzle.

He picked up the towel he’d dropped earlier and turned to face the loch. I gulped at the broad, muscled planes of his shoulders. The round, biteable curve of his arse. His tree trunk thighs that I wanted to wrap my hands around as I sucked him down.

Honestly, I wasn’t sure which view was more tempting. Finn was just perfection. A god amongst mortals.

And certainly out of my league.

I forced myself to turn away and stop ogling the poor bloke. If he ever caught me, there was no way I could explain my actions without looking like a creep.

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