“One.”
He raises his hands, and they hover at my throat.
“Two.”
His stubble ghosts against my cheek, giving me goosebumps.
“Three.”
He undoes the first button, barely even touching the fabric, as the camera snaps. Despite that, or maybe because of it, I shiver. His lips brush the side of my head, his breath in my hair, as he continues down. “I don’t want to stop,” he whispers.
“Then don’t.”
“I have to.”
He stops opening my blouse. I hold his wrists to keep him there, and he steps into me, his hardness pressing into my lower back. When I exhale, it comes out as a pained, unnatural sound. “Please,” I say.
“Please what? What are you asking for?”
“Anything. I-I want this.”
He pulls his hands from mine, and slides one down the front of me. He grips me between the legs and backs me against him, reminding me with his intimidating length that he wants me too. “I already told you why I can’t, but when you beg . . .”
My heart beats in my stomach. I need relief. To feel good. I move against him, pleading with my hips. “Is that what you need?” I ask. “For me to beg?”
“I need you tonotbeg.”
I’m overcome, and it’s a first for me. Everything over the last week has been foreplay, leading to this moment. If he pulls away for good, I’ll be forced back into a restricted state of arousal. “What if I do it?” I ask.
“Do what?”
I push his hand away and slip mine down the front of my skirt, into the elastic of my tights. “It’s not cheating if I do it to myself.”
“You wouldn’t.”
He’s right—I wouldn’t. Not normally. But I am, that’s how desperate he makes me. I slide a finger along the damp seat of my thong. Surprised by how wet I am, I envision Finn easily slipping into me and moan.
“You’re not fighting fair.”
“I’m not the one fighting.” His erection alone assures me he wants this too. Emboldened by that knowledge, I go out on a limb to hopefully persuade him. “I want this, Finn. Tell me what I have to do to get it. What do you need?”
When he answers, he pronounces each word, as if it’s taking all his concentration to speak. “It can’t be about what I need.”
“Ineed it.”
His ensuing silence isn’t a no, and it’s the permission I need. I’ve been circling the idea since I met Finn, but now I can leap knowing Finn will catch me—and that hewantsto. “I’ll end it with Rich right now. My phone’s in the kitchen.”
“No.” He puts a hand around my bicep, keeping me where I am. “You shouldn’t decide like this.”
I cling to the hesitation in his voice. “It’s already over for me. I just have to make sure he knows so you’ll believe me.”
“Halston.”
He could be warning or pleading with me, but either way, his resolve is weakening. I can sense it. If I leave the room, I might break the spell, so I pull my hand out of my skirt and feel behind us for his back pocket. I slip his phone out. My fingers shake as I try to correctly type in the passcode.
“You need a clear head for this,” he says. “We both do.”
“It’s not as impulsive as it seems.” I dial Rich’s number and hold my breath. It rings twice before going to voicemail. I need to tell Rich we’re over—for all of our sakes. Rich deserves that before anything happens. So does Finn.
