Page 62 of Savage Blooms
“I don’t think I’m very gentle.”
“Why do you say that?”
“You’ve seen how I am with Eileen. I can be selfish, demanding. Cruel. It’s not a very gentle thing, to take pleasure from the pain of others.”
“I’m not entirely sure what goes on behind closed doors with you and Eileen, but from what I can see, you love her very much. I’ve seen you acting tender, so don’t pretend like it’s all whip and chains.”
“I hate working with chains,” Finley said with a laugh. “They’re more trouble than they’re worth. And I’m nowhere near skilled enough to use a bullwhip.”
His hand smoothed up her back, and his fingers slotted gently into her hair. He rubbed a little circle into the pressure point at the base of her neck with his thumb, sending warmth spreading down Nicola’s spine.
“I’m surprised I haven’t frightened you away yet,” he murmured.
“You’re going to have to try a lot harder than that to scare me,” Nicola said, tipping her chin up bravely.
“Oh yeah?”
Finley tightened his grip in her hair for a moment, andNicola’s eyes went wide with surprise, her heartbeat kicking up. The air was suddenly tense, charged with possibility. Then Finley released her and went back to massaging that pressure point, as though to apologize for his roughness.
“I think we like a lot of the same things,” Nicola said, suddenly shy. Since when did she have any reticence when it came to talking about sex? “I’m not a shrinking violet. I’m sure if you had any idea about half the things that excite me, you’d be scared off.”
“I doubt it. But by all means, try to scandalize me. What do you like?”
It was always easier to think about these sorts of things in the privacy of her own bed than it was to bring them up in mixed company. But she was trying to trust Finley, even the little bit that she could. If she wanted to build anything real with him at all, she would have to be honest.
“Well,” she said, taking a shaky breath, “I’ve always liked the idea of being chased.”
“Chased?” Finley echoed, dark delight in his voice.
“Hunted down and ravished, to be precise.”
“I’ve never done that with anyone. I’d like to do it with you.”
“Yeah?” Nicola asked, her voice jumping half an octave.
“Yeah,” Finley said, nudging her nose with his own. “As soon as we’re able. But right now, I’d like to just talk to you, and keep kissing you. Does that sound all right?”
“That’s perfect,” Nicola said. “And while we’re talking,can we talk about what’s going on with Eileen? What’s uh… What’s her deal?”
“We can talk about that until you’re blue in the face and you’re not likely to find any satisfying answers, but I’m happy to chat things through. What are you worried about, exactly?”
“I know she means so much to you, and not to put too fine a point on it, but you’re all she has in the world. I like you, Finley, I like you a lot, but I couldn’t live with myself if I ruined something between the two of you. Is she okay with this?”
As though to make her point, Nicola nodded down to her and Finley’s joined hands.
“We talked for quite some time last night. She’s as comfortable with me exploring my connection to other people as I am with her exploring her own. We love each other, and we’ll love each other until we’re both cold in our graves, but that doesn’t mean we control each other’s every move.”
“Do you think that means she’ll make a move on Adam?” Nicola asked, chewing her lip. Why did romance have to be so hard? Why couldn’t everyone just have everything they wanted, with no hurt feelings or complications?
“I’m fairly confident that’s what last night was about,” Finley said with a curt laugh. “Eileen would rather die than ask for what she wants outright. Everything has to be a riddle with her. My advice to you is: talk to Adam.See how he feels, make sure no one is lying to anyone about what they’re after. Everyone should have equal say in this. Otherwise, I wouldn’t worry.”
“Okay,” Nicola said. And with the sunlight streaming in through the windows into Finley’s curls, his hazel eyes warm with affection, she truly wasn’t worried at all.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Adam
Adam was a half-mile from the house when he caught up with Eileen. She had opted to forgo the mellow path through the grazing green and had taken a path that led straight up into the woods. Adam followed, appreciating the burn in his calves and the stretch in his lungs as he hiked up the rocky terrain. He had been a swimmer all through high school and college, and it was still his preferred form of exercise. He longed for the resistance of the water, the rhythmic crash of waves over his head. But the hike was challenging enough, and it gave him the time and space he needed to think.
