Page 32 of Wreck Me

“That’ll never happen.” I blow out a breath as he leans in, holding the mask of indifference I’ve perfected over the years, bracing myself for him to kiss me.

My hands ball into fists at my sides, my fingers digging into my palms, fighting the urge to grab him and erase the remaining space between our bodies. The tension crackles between us like a live wire, and I desperately want to let him stoke this blazing inferno inside me.

But he doesn’t kiss me. He pivots at the last second, running the smooth skin of his nose across the rough stubble of my facial hair until his lips reach my ear, his breath warm on my skin, goosebumps scattering and pebbling my flesh. I fight the chill that follows, but I’m just not quick enough. I know he feels how he affects me. Why the fuck does this guy get under my skinlike this? Why do I suddenly feel alive when we’re like this?

“Liar.”

My hands come up quicker than I meant for them to, pushing harder than I would want. They make contact with his chest, and I shove hard. Finn stumbles back a few steps, his crystal-blue eyes wild with excitement and satisfaction.

“Fuck you.”

“Anytime, lover.”

For a moment, I’m tempted to hate-fuck him right here. Rip off his shorts, bend him over the pretty upholstered couch, and fuck his ass raw until I fill it with my cum, leaving him unfulfilled to take care of himself. But no. I’m not giving in to him.

“I’ll be outside.”

His hand shoots out, fingers clasping my arm. Sparks shoot off from the connection, causing me to stiffen as I stare down at where our skin meets.

“Wait.”

“What, Nash?” I snap.

“Truce.”

I finally look up to meet his eyes—a stormy mix of desire and desperation gazing back at me. My goddamn heart flips in my chest, bottoming out into the pit of my stomach. I don’t like that look on his face. It does me in.

“What do you mean?” I ask with feigned irritation, giving him an opportunity to lay out his conditions.

“I know how I got you here was shitty, but can we just put everything aside for the weekend? No one knows us here, can we just . . . pretend?”

“Psh,” I tsk, shocked that he would even suggest it, even if my mind is swirling with the possibility. “Pretend what, Nash? That you haven’t been personally fucking with me for months, hunting me down at a sex club, fucking around with me, thenblackmailing me to get me to skip town with you to hide away in your super mansion? I don’t know what you want from me.”

He exhales roughly, thick fingers carding through his hair. I track the movement . . . not able to hide his disappointment when he winces. His eyebrows crinkle inward, his lips turning down, and once again—I don’t fucking like it. I want to fucking fix it, and I can’t explain why. He deserves my wrath, not my kindness.

“Tell me what you want.” My voice is calmer, my anger receding.

His eyes lift up, meeting mine, those goddamn crystal blues looking back at me, setting off a new sensation low in my belly. Fuck are those goddamn butterflies? What the fuck is happening?

“You. Okay? I want you. Can we just try to forget every shitty thing that I’ve done to get us here, and just enjoy the weekend together?”

I open my mouth to spew more lies. More bullshit. But the look of needy desperation on his face stops me. I’ve been lying to myself and putting all the blame on him. There were ways around this; I didn’t have to come, and he knows it. I can’t explain it, but I want him, too. I want to explore this, and that’s the real reason I’m here. Even if I’ve been convincing myself that it was for the feature he’d write.

The fact is, as much as I don’t want to let my family down when it comes to this life-changing opportunity, I’m terrified that once it’s all over, I won’t have a reason to see Finn again. That he’ll walk out of my life for good and I’ll have no fucking idea how this man successfully flipped what I knew about myself on its head.

“I’m sorry, Carter. There’s a lot more to all of this, and I just . . .” He huffs out a long breath and pushes his hand through his hair, keeping his eyes downcast. I step into hisspace, gripping his chin between my thumb and pointer finger, angling his head up so that he has to meet my eyes.

“You just what, Finn? Tell me, I’m so fucking confused,” I ask him, my voice coming out less tender than it should. His stormy blue eyes rake over my face, and then he pulls his plump bottom lip between his teeth, and I nearly groan. It’s such a sexy move that I haven’t seen him do before, and I immediately want to rub my thumb over it to pop it free.

“You’re so beautiful, Carter.”

“Flattery isn’t going to win you any brownie points, Nash, fuck off with that shit.”

He moves quickly, pressing me back against the wall, his hand moving to my groin, grabbing my semi-hard dick and holding it tight. I can’t help the grunt that leaves me, and the asshole smirks.

“How about a blow job then?” he asks as he playfully nips at my bottom lip. Fuck, everything about him makes me lose myself, but makes everything inside me go crazy at the same time. It’s a war of emotions, but sex is always what I want, and sex of any type with Finn is my newest obsession. I’m here, and I knew it would happen eventually. Plus, my dick is harder than it’s ever been, and my heart is racing a mile a minute in my chest. I want him. So fucking bad. Even though in the far recesses of my head, I know he’s using sex to get out of communicating with me, I still melt into him.

Grabbing a fistful of his hair, I wrench his head backward. “You want to suck my dick, pretty boy?”

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