Love Scene 1...They can't resist temptation

Finn and Ellie have been attracted to each other since they first day they ran into each other when she returned to Harmony Hills. Both are also stalked by trouble. And there comes a point when they just can's resist....

“This is exactly why I came here.” He chuckled.

            “To make fun of me?”

            He shook his head. “No. To hear something that would make me laugh.”

            It was one thing to joke around. It was another to insult her. “You’re laughing at my job?”

            “No. I’m just laughing at the absurdity of life.”

“Great.”

No matter how he prettied it up, he was laughing at her. Despite her very rational arguments for having an affair with him, that brought her back to planet earth. She unlocked the door to McDermott’s and went inside.

He followed her. “Hey, come on. Don’t be mad.”

“Just shut up. Go home.” How had she ever thought sleeping with him would be a stress reliever, when he was the biggest producer of her stress? Especially when she’d told him to go home but he was still following her up to her apartment.

She tossed her purse on the old glass table, her gaze colliding with his broad shoulders beneath his gray shirt, and she almost groaned. He had the trimmed, toned body of a warrior. The sexily mussed hair of a man who liked to take life easy. The strong, chiseled face of a Greek god. And a voice that could melt butter. She had to forgive herself for being attracted to him. But that didn’t mean she would let him stay.

She raised her gaze to meet his. “I’m not mad. I just want you to go away.”

“After the way you just sized me up?” He grabbed her arm, spun her to him. “I think you lie.”

His lips were on hers before she could even form a reply. At first she stiffened, but the reality of her life closed in on her. It had finally sunk in that her dad wasn’t getting any better. And Finn was offering a way to forget, if only for a few minutes.

            He rolled his tongue along her bottom lip and everything inside her went nuclear. Heat exploded low in her body and roared through her. This was what she wanted from him. The heat. The intensity. She didn’t just need to forget her troubles. She wanted him. And he wanted her.

And if only for a few minutes, she was taking what she could get. Even if that was only one long, delicious kiss. She caught the back of his neck and pulled him closer.

As if she’d taunted him or challenged him, he deepened the kiss. Gliding his tongue along her lips again, opening her mouth so he could dive inside. Sweet sensation exploded in her mouth. The scratch of his tongue. The taste of peppermint.

Desperate, needy, she pressed closer, feasting on his mouth, cruising her hands down his neck, shoulders, and arms, feeling the strength in the corded muscles, taking what she craved. Any minute now, he’d break away or she’d push away, and he’d leave in a huff…or maybe teasing her. She would be fine. They would be fine. She just wanted two minutes of pure pleasure.

His hands slid from her shoulders down her back, pressing in when they reached the swell of her bottom. Heat shot through her, scorching her, ramping up the needs swelling inside her.

His hands roamed up again, tracing her spine, filling her with liquid heat, but instead of stopping at her shoulders, they raced around and found her breasts. Her nipples pebbled to aching life, straining to get into his hands, but meeting the soft lace of her bra.

She groaned.

“I love this dress. Let’s take it off.”

That woke her up. Instead of stopping they were going further?

            He stepped back, swiveled her around, and unzipped her dress. Before she had a chance to say stop, he turned her back to him and slid his hands under the shoulders of her simple black sheath. With one quick shove from him, it puddled to the floor.

In what felt like the blink of an eye, she stood before him in a black bra and panties, exposed, vulnerable.

            He chuckled as he whipped off his T-shirt. “You’re a closet underwear junkie. I like that about you—you’re never what I expect. You’re always better.”

            The word “stop” died on her tongue. “Every girl likes to be pretty.” She said the words slowly, finally understanding why he tempted her so much. He wasn’t just gorgeous. He had a way of making her feel beautiful. Even when they were arguing.

            He put both hands on her waist and nudged her to him again. “You are the prettiest.”

            “Oh, now you’re just lying.”

            He skimmed his lips along her neck. “Never.”

            That made her laugh out loud, then his lips nibbled behind her ear, and her laughter died. Heat flooded her and became an ache at the apex of her thighs.

            Were they really going to do this?

            His mouth moved from her neck to her collarbone, down the sensitive flesh above her breasts. She took one sharp breath, fully intending to push him away when his mouth closed over the lace of her bra.

            Her back arched. He tugged once, then twice. Liquid warmth replaced the ache. Her knees weakened.

            “I sort of like you in undies and high heels. In fact, I might start calling you High Heels just to keep the memory alive.”

            Oh, Lord. Seriously. They had to stop. “There isn’t going to be a memory.”

            “Oh, High Heels, that just sounds like a challenge.” With that he scooped her up and carried her down the hall. Before she could protest, he put his mouth on hers again. Deep, wet kisses took them to the door of her bedroom. He laid her on the satin bedspread she’d chosen in eleventh grade and crawled on top of her, bringing his mouth back to hers while his hands worked her bra.

            Here was another point where she could say stop. She knew it. And she suspected he knew it. But she ran her hands down his bare back, and holy crap, did he feel good. Smooth skin. Corded muscles.

Nemesis or not, this felt right. Wonderful. It was the chance she’d always wanted for a do-over on their one and only time together. Instead of arguing with herself or waiting to find the perfect place to end it, maybe she should just take it?

            With one quick push on his shoulder, she tumbled him to his back. Before he could react, she straddled him. With her bra gone and her panties saturated with her need, she felt bold, wanton. Perfect.

            She started working the catch of his jeans.

            He blinked. “What’s this?”

            “This is just a little taste of grown-up Ellie.”

            “Grown-up Ellie?”

            “You think I stayed the same in nine years? That I didn’t get a little experience?”

            She skimmed her fingers down his smooth, muscular chest, then bent down, kissed his mouth, and ran her hands from his pecs to his navel. She brought them back up again, luxuriating in the texture of his skin. When she reached his shoulders, she leaned down and brushed her breasts against the stubble on his chin.

            She was right. It felt crazy good. Sinfully wonderful.

            He caught her arms and flipped her, turning the tables again.

            She blinked. “How am I going to show you what I’ve learned?”

            “I don’t want to know what you’ve learned. This isn’t chemistry.” He frowned. “Maybe it is. But that’s actually my point. Forget about technique, and let’s just let the lust rule.”

            A rush of sizzling tingles scurried through her. She had to swallow before she could say, “Then you’re going to have to get rid of those jeans.”

He nipped her lips. “And you’re going to have to get rid of those undies.” But he bent, rolled his tongue along the soft flesh of her breast and captured her nipple.

She groaned at the molten heat that ignited her blood. He put his hands behind her back, lifting her chest as if presenting her for his feasting pleasure. He nipped and sucked, rolling her nipple around his mouth until she thought she’d die from the pleasure, then he started on the other nipple.

She moaned and he pulled his hands from behind her back, though his mouth never left her straining nipple. She heard the soft swish of the zipper on his jeans. He released her breast, rolled to the side, and kicked them off. She did as he’d instructed and tossed her black panties across the room. When he rolled back to her, his erection pressed against her thigh.

Just when she might have had a second thought about what they were doing, he slid his hand to her stomach and down to her thighs. She didn’t for one second think he’d forgotten his way or miscalculated. He was soothing her, preparing her, because in the next second, his fingers were on her sensitive nub. The heat that had been ratcheting through her became a crackle of electricity that exploded in her middle.

From there, everything got crazy. He slid his fingers inside her and she reached for his erection. She’d have given every cent she had to be able to put her mouth on him, but the ache inside her knew there wasn’t time. He slipped away, pulled his wallet from his jeans pocket, and got a condom.

When he returned to her, she arched and he pinned her shoulders to the bed, rising above her, opening her thighs with a knee, and then plunging inside.

She nearly fell apart right then and there. The heat and strength of him filled every soft, wet inch of her. He pulled out and slid in again, creating a friction that took her so high her breath shivered. He kept the tempo slow and even, taking her to the brink and then pulling her back until she groaned and writhed beneath him.

“Now, High Heels, don’t you think you’re being a little impatient? I don’t know about you, but I waited nine years for this do-over.”

So had she. Sort of. She might not have put it into words, but now that she was getting a second chance, she should be enjoying it.

She shoved at his shoulder at the same time that she used her thigh to knock him off-balance. He tumbled to his side and she rolled on top of him. If he was only hers for tonight , she was doing all the things she should have done nine years ago. Before he could protest, she put her mouth on his, kissing him deeply, wantonly. He stilled beneath her, then his hands came up to her back, caressing, kneading.

She ran her lips along his jaw, enjoying the tickling sensation of his day-old stubble, then drew them down his neck, across his collarbone, to his chest. She intended to lick or taste every inch of him, but when she ran her tongue along his nipple, he sucked in a breath and reversed their positions again.

This time, he pounded into her. No more slow and even, or fun and games. Her twenty seconds of touching him seemed to have let something loose inside of him and he roared to life, taking her higher and further, harder and faster until she shattered. Her orgasm tore through her, pulling a scream from deep inside her.

He plunged in again. And again. And again. Restarting the heat, building the momentum until she came a second time. Then he pushed in harder and faster until he shuddered.

He fell on top of her, nestling his face in her neck. She still tingled, still shuddered, still wanted to feel him against her.

Reality finally caught up with her. What was she doing?

What had she done?

She squeezed her eyes shut, remembering the wanton way she’d kissed him, the way she’d wanted to taste every inch of him, and the way he hadn’t held back. As he’d said, he’d let the lust rule.

And her bedroom—the entire world—became silent.

She knew why they hadn’t resisted temptation. They were hot for each other. But now reality was back.

Love Scene Three...

Finn and Ellie agree to just have an affair...but could it be turning into something more?

When Finn came to her door that night with another bag of food, Ellie was abundantly glad she’d decided to go to Pittsburgh the next day. It gave her something to talk about, so she didn’t accidentally mention her dad. That wasn’t their deal. Even though it hung heavily on her mind, alternately scaring her and depressing her, she shoved it to the back of her brain as she led him up the stairs.

Once they were inside, he didn’t hesitate. He pulled her to him and kissed her soundly, running his hands down her back, under her top, beneath the waistband of her jeans.

She almost giggled and told him to stop because she was hungry…but that wasn’t their deal, either. In fact, she supposed she should be happy he kept bringing food because, really, this was only supposed to be about sex.

She slid her hands up his chest, feeling the muscles beneath his thin summer T-shirt. And suddenly she forgot all about food. She lifted the lightweight material high enough that she could touch skin, and he grabbed the hem and shucked it.

“Never let it be said I’m not helpful.”

She laughed, but standing in front of the most perfect male chest she’d ever seen, she didn’t want to waste a minute. She ran her fingers along his pecs and down the indentations of the muscles of his stomach. She traced the waistband of his jeans, both hands starting at the side and meeting in the middle, at the clasp. She popped it.

Never, ever had she been this bold. And she chalked it up to Finn’s being so casual. She slipped her hands under the open material of his jeans, across his hips to his butt, which she squeezed, then brought them back again to undo his zipper. Sliding her hands under the denim, she gave it enough of a shove that his pants tumbled down, then she shoved his boxers down too.

His erection bounced out and he stepped out of the jeans and boxers and stood in front of her naked.

“I seem to remember you having some kind of rule about both of us being unequally dressed or undressed.”

“In a minute.” She made the comment absently, mesmerized by him. He’d clearly kept up whatever exercise regimen he’d had in the service because his body was toned, his muscles well defined. Stepping close, she kissed his chest, then down his stomach and lower.

“Um. If you’re going to start that, we’d better get to the bedroom.”

She pulled back a notch. “There’s a couch in the living room…or a chair right here.”

He chuckled. “Are you getting adventurous on me?”

“It’s hardly adventurous to suggest sex on a chair.”

“Have you done it before?”

She frowned. “Nick wasn’t really one for experimentation .” Their gazes caught and something weird fizzled through her.  She’d done more, talked about more with Finn than she’d ever done with Nick.

***

Nick might not have been one for experimentation, but she was. Finn didn’t know why he was surprised. She’d always been a curious kid, but right now, what she was doing to him went beyond fascination and was rolling into orgasm territory. And she wasn’t ready for that yet.

He kicked the leg of a chair, spinning it around so the seat faced them. In one quick move, he had her top off. In two, he got rid of her shorts. Move three, he sat and turned her toward him.

“Straddle me.”

Wide-eyed, she did as he asked. Which put her breasts level with his face. He ran his tongue over both nipples. She groaned, so he didn’t stop. He took one in his mouth, sucked, and then shifted over to the second. She ground her butt against his thighs in frustration. He put his hand on the small of her back and gave her a nudge, aligning her clit with his erection. This time when she ground, they both groaned.

She rose up from his thighs and he guided her until she rose over him and took him in, one slow inch at a time. As she moved up, then down, he took her breast into his mouth, making her moan with breathy pleasure. The harder he sucked, the faster she moved until she cried out.

Spent, she laid her head on his shoulder, but given that he hadn’t joined her at the finish line, they were just getting started. He rose from the chair, lifting her with him, and ambled to the bedroom.

The second time they made love, he let her touch him, taste him any way she wanted, loving the fact that it all seemed so new to her. Then they fell asleep, but woke fifteen minutes later when her stomach growled loud enough that they both heard.

“I think one of us should get out of bed and start making hamburgers.”

She snuggled into her pillow. “My dad always said it was a man’s job to grill.”

He laughed. “If I’m getting up, you’re getting up.”

She groaned but rolled out of bed. She used the bathroom, then he stepped inside to wash his hands.

Ellie glanced around the bedroom, looking for her clothes. Her brain still in sex-coma mode, she couldn’t quite remember where her shorts were, or her shirt.

Finn walked out of the bathroom. He took one look at her face and said, “Kitchen. We started in the kitchen, remember?”

Her face heated. She remembered.

He caught her arm and kissed her. “You’re not getting all prudy on me, are you?”

“Prudy?”

“You know, like feeling odd that we’re don’t seem to have any boundaries when we’re naked.”

“Oh, that prudy.”

He caught her gaze. “I’m serious. We haven’t even hit any of the kinky stuff yet. All we’re doing is having fun. You’re having fun.”

“I’m not feeling odd that we’re having fun.”

“Good, because we are really, really having fun.”


She laughed. But away from Finn, memories of her phone call with the doctor tiptoed into her brain. Since she’d been home, they’d never had anything good to report, but today’s phone call had been the worst. She hadn’t mentioned it to Angela, didn’t want to burden her. But this was the kind of thing Finn would understand…

Still, talking about their troubles wasn’t their deal. Hell, he’d barely told her about being in the marines. He skimmed over the things about his dad. And selling prepaid funeral packages was totally out of bounds.

Love Scene Two...They make it official

Finn and Ellie have been competitors forever, but when they both return to Harmony Hills to rescue their parents their competition is made more difficult by a sexual attraction they can't handle. Finally, at a wedding they both attend it becomes clear they aren't going to be able to resist. They've already done it once...But, nervous, Ellie has one too many cranberry juice and vodkas and Finn can't take advantage of her. But the next day, all bets are off...

Ellie awakened the next morning to the sound of her phone chirping. She looked at the clock, saw it was after ten, then glanced down at her shiny pink minidress and groaned.

The phone chirped again.

She grabbed it. “Hello.” Well, gee, that sounded terrific. As if she were on death’s door. She cleared her throat and tried again. “McDermott’s. How can I help you?”

“You can tell me you’re fine.”

“Finn?”

“When I left last night, you were out cold.”

Images came dancing back. Finn dipping her. Drinking vodka and cranberry juice. Finn laughing as they walked down the street to her house.

Had she told him about Nick?

She squeezed her eyes shut, then popped them open again and looked down at her dress. She didn’t think a man who’d had sex with a woman would then redress her.

She said, “I’m fine,” wincing when it sounded as though her voice had come through rusty sandpaper.

“You need to hydrate. Go drink a bottle of water. Move around a bit, get your blood flowing, and the alcohol will leave, too.”

“Is this your official hangover cure?”

“No, my hangover cure involves hair of the dog. But it’s Sunday.”

“And I shouldn’t drink on Sunday?”

“No, I bought steaks. I thought I’d cook them at your house, and we could spend a leisurely afternoon reading the paper.”

Having him behave as if they were just any other couple set her pulse to racing, but also confused her. He said he only wanted to have fun. Should people who only wanted to have fun grill steaks?

Her stomach growled.

Why was she overthinking this? She was hungry. He’d bought steaks.

“Give me time to shower.”

“You have a grill, right?”

“On the apartment deck.”

“So I’ll be grilling in the sky.”

She laughed. “Whatever. Just bring food. I’m starving.”

She hung up the phone, showered quickly, then raced out to the deck. Testing the gas grill, she turned it on and it worked, so she turned it off. She wiped the table clean, wiped down the chairs around the table, and also swiped the two chaise lounges .

Remembering the bottle and a half of wine in her dad’s desk drawer, she raced downstairs. She put both bottles in the refrigerator. Just as she closed the door, the doorbell rang.

“Please do not let it be somebody with a dead relative,” she prayed as she raced down the steps. When she reached the bottom, she took a deep breath and opened the door.

Finn stood on her porch with an O’Riley’s bag full of food and a bag from the liquor store.

He presented it to her. “Some wine.”

She peeked inside with a smile. “I have a couple bottles chilling, but I’m never unhappy to add more.”

She turned and started up the stairs. Following her, he laughed, and the sound echoed around her. Her heart lifted a bit, but just a bit. He was here to make her a steak. And she suspected he wanted to begin their affair. She did too. But when she thought about that part, her stomach fell, her knees trembled. The last time they’d made love, it had been on a spontaneous burst of passion. They’d never made a decision. And she felt awkward, clumsy.

“I also brought lettuce and tomatoes for a salad.”

Trying to forget her nerves, she opened the apartment door. “I have some mushrooms and cucumbers.”

“Sounds perfect.”

She slid the bag from his hands and set it on the table. “You take the steaks out to the grill. It’s gas. Self-explanatory. And I’ll make the salad.”

She turned away and would have begun pulling out the lettuce and tomatoes, but he caught her arm, turned her to him, and kissed her.

Soft and slow, warm and deep, his kiss turned her heart to mush and blanked out any thought she might have had in her brain.

He pulled away slowly. “I didn’t get a good-night kiss.”

Her gaze clung to his. “You didn’t?”

He laughed. “And that’s why. When I kiss a girl, I want her to know it.”

What little solidity she had in her body fled.

He bent his head and kissed her again. “I wish you had that little pink dress on now. I had visions of how easy it was going to be to get you out of it.”

“This tank top comes off fairly easily, too.”

He stepped back and smiled. “Show me.”

Not really one to be bold, but determined to get rid of her nerves, she reached for the hem of her top and lifted it an inch, then another, and another.

“What are you doing?”

She smiled. “Striptease…don’t you like it?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Good.” She rolled her hips as she slowly raised the top and pulled it off.

His eyes gleaming, he put his hands on her shoulders, bent, and traced his tongue over the lace of her bra above her nipple. Her breath caught. Shivers raced down her spine. And not all were from arousal. Far too many were from fear. As long as she was doing something like a striptease, she was fine. It was when he took over that nerves filled her. It wasn’t that she didn’t like what he did to her. She certainly did. It was more the vulnerability that sneaked up on her and made her nervous.

Needing a minute to adjust, she caught his hand and led him down the hall to her bedroom.

“You don’t like being carried?”

“No. I’m using the time to ease myself into this.”

“You just did a striptease.” He stopped. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

She faced him. “I want to do this. It’s just that everything between us always happens so fast that there are no awkward moments.” She sucked in a breath. “But today we have one. I’m in a bra and shorts and you’re fully dressed.”

“Okay.” He whipped off his shirt. “Now we’re even.”

He caught her hand, yanked her inside the room, and tumbled her to the bed. His lips captured hers as he rolled her beneath him. Her breasts grazed the solid wall of his chest, sending need sizzling through her. She squeezed her eyes shut in gratitude. He’d speeded things up so she’d be more comfortable.

Her bra loosened around her, then disappeared. Answering his deliberately distracting kisses, she pulled in a breath. Determined not to overthink this, she brought her hands to his shoulders and glided them down his back. Beautiful muscles rippled beneath her touch, reminding her there was so much more to this man than simple male perfection.

But those thoughts left her when he reached for the button of her shorts. He opened it, pulled down the zipper, and in one quick tug got them off her butt and to her knees. Another tug brought them to her ankles. His hands smoothed from her calf, up her thigh to her stomach, as if memorizing her shape, sending arousal cascading through her.

She kicked her shorts off her ankles and sent them flying.

“Now you’re overdressed again,” she whispered, as she found her way to the metal catch of his jeans. She popped it open and unzipped the fly, but he sat up.

“Let’s do this the easy way.” He tugged off his jeans and threw them to the chair by the window.

When he rolled over to her again, he was naked. Warm and naked. His firm erection pressed against her thigh. As he kissed her, her hands automatically went to his arms, to the tattoos over roped muscle. She let herself explore the curves and indentation that defined the muscles, kissing him back. Her hands roved up his shoulders and down his chest, not exploring this time, but enjoying. For now,his body was hers. She almost couldn’t believe it, but it was, and she wasn’t letting one inch go untouched. Unkissed.

She flipped him to give herself time to run her tongue along the lines of his pecs down his stomach to his belly button and back up again. His firm skin tasted of soap and salt. She stopped her tongue and began to kiss him, but he flipped her before she could go any further.

His mouth slid from her breasts to her belly. She expected him to skim over her soft mound, but his tongue darted out, across her sensitive nub. Her hips arched involuntarily. He caught them in his big hands as his tongue dipped lower, until it slid inside her.

This time when she arched, he didn’t stop her. His tongue was too busy. Her breath caught as every muscle in her lower body swelled with need.

“Oh my God. Finn, stop. I’m going to come.” She’d never been so bold as to utter words like that with another man, but she and frenemy Finn breached all kinds of protocol boundaries.

He left her, and the sound of a foil packet being torn whispered through the silent room. Then he grabbed her shoulders and rolled her to her back. Her legs opened for him and he moved inside her.

He stretched her to capacity, easing the tension for a second only to ratchet it up again as he began to move. Then he brought his lips back to hers, kissing her so deeply that something tugged and snapped. It was as if he answered every prayer, every feminine need she ever had. She ran her hands down his strong back, to the curve of his butt, her fingers and senses so attuned to him that the world around her ceased to exist.

He pushed in and eased out, silkily sliding against her inner walls, sending sweet sensation through her. The easy rhythm increased, once, twice until he was pounding in and out, building the pressure of arousal that begged for sweet release. He drove her higher. Harder. Faster. Until she thought she’d die from the intensity of her need to let go.

When she finally did, she screamed. He kept the pace, in, out, harder, faster until he cried out and his own dam of arousal burst.

After a few seconds of total silence, he shifted away to the bed beside her. Her body hummed with life and energy, as her chest rose and fell from her efforts to fill it with much-needed air.

“That was…” Words failed her so she settled for, “Magnificent.”

“Magnificent, huh?”

“I could have said mind-numbing.”

He laughed.

“Or earth-shattering, but I think both are overdone.” She rolled to him and caught his gaze. “You are definitely an answer man.”

He rubbed her back. “An answer man?”

“You suggested we do this. I’m just sorry it took three weeks before we followed through.”

He laughed. “I’d’ve been here before that, but my nose needed a long time to heal.”

She nestled a little closer, edging herself against his warm side. “How are things with your dad?”

He winced. “Normally, I’d say this topic was out of bounds—too serious—for our plan to just have fun, but since gossip is probably out there anyway, I’ll tell you that things are good. Not great, but good.”

“Why not great?”

“He’s leaving my mom alone, but he was supposed to file for divorce and he hasn’t.”

“Oh.”

He tumbled her to her back. “So let’s forget about that and talk about something else.”

She glanced at his tattoos, symbols of strength and male virility, which he had in abundance. “Why don’t you tell me about being in the marines?”

His eyes shifted, changing. The sparkle died as if someone had snuffed out a candle. “I don’t like to talk about war.”

She traced the lines of the Semper Fi tattoo. “Not the war, being in the marines.”

“I was always a fighter, a scrapper. Part of that I blame on you.”

“Me?”

“You made me fight for every damned prize I won.”

She laughed.

“But the marines took my ability to fight, to defend myself, and showed me how to use it. How to direct all that energy.”

“That’s why you didn’t hit your dad back when he hit you.”

“Basically, yes.” He ran his hand down her side. “Enough of that. Let’s talk about something more interesting, like the freckles on your chest.”

She knew he was changing the subject because they were talking. Really talking. Running the risk of getting close. That wasn’t just a bad thing for him. It was bad for her too. When the contest ended, no matter who won, they’d part. Getting close would cause the loss of their relationship to hurt more.

She smiled, taking the hint to let their pillow talk go in a less serious direction. “You don’t think you’re going to get a redhead naked and not see a freckle or two.”

“I think they’re cute.”

She wanted to fall into the pools of his liquid blue eyes, but reminded herself this was just an affair. So she ran her hand down his back, feeling the carved muscles, until she reached his perfect butt.

“Now, if we really want to talk about magnificent…here it is.”

He laughed as his ran his tongue from her chest to her tummy and back up again. “I’m finding a few magnificent spots myself.”

She almost argued that he had more magnificent places than she did, but his tongue found her nipple again and her hands slid down his back, and it didn’t take long before she was shivering with need and he was hard. Still, his fingers skimmed across her skin, raising gooseflesh. He rolled to his back, bringing her with him, so she lay atop his chest.

He grabbed her butt. “This is pretty perfect, too.”

“Oh, yeah?” Her breathy, husky voice was a cue that she was ready for more than talking, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“You have a nice tight little ass, High Heels. Squeezable.”

He kissed her again, so slow and so sweet that her chest shivered. His hand found its way in between them and she rose up just enough that he could reach her clit. He rubbed slow circles over her as he kissed her, his tongue sliding in and out, making her crazy.

And just when she thought she’d either die of need or beg him to take her, he rolled her to her back and slid inside, but instead of the fevered pace of the first time, he made slow, heavenly love to her, giving her time to run her fingers down his back, across his butt and up his back again to his short, spiky hair. It took longer to reach the peak, but her orgasm was a slow burst of pounding heat that seemed to last forever.

When he reached the pinnacle, he cried out her name and collapsed against her.

A warm, lazy feeling floated through her. She could have fallen asleep, but he stirred.

“Now I’m hungry.”

Her eyes drifted shut, and he slapped her bottom. “Show me to your grill.”

He rolled out of bed, slipped into his jeans, and padded barefoot out of the room.

She groaned but got out of bed, put on her shorts, and followed him, grabbing her tank top from the kitchen floor and slipping into it before she went to the deck.

He already had the grill started. “Wanna bring me the steaks?”

“Sure.”

She brought the steaks to him, he kissed her, and all her misgivings about getting out of bed flitted away. She threw together the salad, and they ate on the sunny porch. After clearing the table and cleaning the kitchen, they moved to the chaise longues and read the paper. The big, fat Sunday edition of the Harmony Hill Gazette. Stories about football camp, engagements, and group fund-raisers reminded her of the conversations the Dinner Belles had as they cooked a lunch or made pierogis.

She and Finn didn’t talk, except to share a comment or two on a story, then she finally drifted off to sleep. In the sun. Just like a cat or a little kid.