“Rich, it’s me,” I start.
“Halston, please,” Finn whispers.
With just my name, I understand what he’s trying to tell me. This is wrong. No matter how badly I want this, I can’t break up with Rich over a message. Reluctantly, I say, “Call me when you get this. We need to talk.”
Finn takes the phone from my hand, hangs up, and puts it away. “There’s no rush.” He’s still pressed against me. I’m not sure how he’s restraining himself when I’ve told him how badly I want this.
“I’m going to end things with him. You believe me, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“So what does it matter if I do it tonight or tomorrow? It’s over.”
“Once I start thinking of you as mine, that changes everything.” There’s undeniable need in his voice—sadness too. “I can’t let myself believe you’re mine if you’re not. I’m the one who’ll get hurt.”
He must not realize that the idea of staking his claim only makes me want this more. I gyrate against him. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I want to be yours.”
He grabs my hip, his fingers digging into my skin, trying to still me. “You have to slow down.”
“I don’t want to with you. Everyone else tells me to calm down or take it easy or go slow. I want to be myself with you, Finn. I want to be allowed to want you this way.”
He drops his face into the crook of my neck and sighs deeply. One arm wraps around me from behind and then his other. I continue to move against him and eventually, he answers, syncing his thrusts with mine. “Christ, Halston,” he mutters. “You’re killing me here.”
“Then stop fighting me.”
He walks us forward a few steps. We reach a wall. I put my hands on it and push back against him. Momentarily, I think I’ve won. He’s going to rip off his pants and fuck me. But he just touches me through my clothing, circling his fingers over my clit quickly, as if our time together could end any second.
I curl my hands into fists, scraping the wall with my fingernails. He secures my back to his front as he slides his shaft up and down the crack of my ass. Even with layers of clothing separating us, he’s growing bigger, harder, engorged—or maybe that’s just what I believe becauseI’mseconds from falling apart. Even though I’d rather wait to climax with him, his hand feels so good that I end up humping it.
“You’re going to make me come in my fucking pants,” he says.
He’s losing control. Knowing I have that power over him makes me crumble. I orgasm with Finn’s hand between my legs while he grinds into me anddoesn’tfuck me. He takes my hips and thrusts against me more furiously, burying his face in my hair and groaning until he finishes.
If my heart pounds any harder, it’ll burst through my chest. Finn shudders behind me. “Fuck,” he says. “I had one rule.”
One rule—and he bent it for me. Maybe I should be sorry. I don’t want him to regret anything when it comes to us. But being simultaneously coveted and owned is addicting, a high I’ve never felt, one I couldn’t fight in the moment. And we haven’t even been skin to skin yet.
“Technically, we didn’t break it,” I say breathlessly.
He releases my hips. “I think the line is too thin to say.”
I turn around. Concern is etched into his features. I want to erase all his doubts, comfort him. “It’s over with him. Completely. Trust me.”
My phone rings from the kitchen. Finn and I look at each other. “It’s him,” I say.
“I’m going to clean myself up.” Finn walks away but pauses in the doorway. “Whatever happens, don’t go to his place. At least not tonight. I can’t stand the thought of it.”
He leaves the studio. With his final plea, I understand his fears run deeper than just the injustice of cheating on Rich.
If Finn is worried about what’ll happen if I don’t end things at all, maybe he already thinks of me as his.
12
Imake it to Finn’s kitchen right before Rich’s call goes to voicemail. “Hey,” I answer.
