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My climax comes from nowhere. Quick and furious, like our lovemaking. My body shakes as I go wild beneath him. “Finn. Oh, Finn. Finn. Finn.”
He slows and breaks our kiss. Controlling each movement as he gazes into my eyes. I see everything, his kindness, his heroism, his love. Us together, joined in a way that transcends this moment, this time. He pushes deep and settles inside me, baby blue eyes shining bright and pupils darkening as he milks his release for all it’s worth, as if he never wants it to end.
We lay together afterward breathless, my rapid heartbeat an echo of his.
I can’t move.
I don’t want to be the one to break away first.
After what feels like an eternity, he soundlessly lifts up and off me. And though I know it’s irrational, my hormones kick into overdrive, and tears form. I love this man.
And this feels like goodbye.
I scramble to my feet and duck my chin, hiding my face. We dress without talking. Except ... why is that? No smart comments? No teasing parlay that’s become our normal routine?
I struggle to get a grip on my emotions and take a few seconds to smooth out the wrinkles in my shorts.
The light touch on my arm makes me jump.
“You have grass in yer hair.” Gently, ever so gently, he combs his fingers through my locks.
My heart stills. Time stills.
His eyes skim over me.
“Better?” I whisper.
“You have never looked more beautiful.” All the tension and worry leaves my body in a long, drawn-out exhale. He cares. And maybe, just maybe, he loves me as well.
I don’t ask him but simply bask in the moment.
We have time.
I catch sight of the car, and so does Finn because he stops in his tracks to scratch his head.
Car doors wide open, engine running, and a park job a three-year-old child might make.
“Jaysus,” he rumbles.
And I laugh, all my worries disappearing with that single word. Because if this isn’t proof that Finn wants me—desperately—I’m not sure what is.
