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.