The High Price of Secrets

She gripped his shoulders as they found their rhythm, then increased in tempo, spiraling into a cacophony of sensation. Until they peaked together in a penetrating awareness of pleasure that swamped them in forceful waves.

Finn fell back onto the bed, pulling her on top of him. Beneath her cheek she could feel his heart hammering in his chest, feel the answering thud of her own. One of his hands traced up and down her spine, while the other held her firmly to him, anchored at the hip as if he couldn’t bear to let her go. She could still feel his pulse inside her, felt the answering squeeze of her own.

“As events go, I’d say that was a resounding success,” he said against the top of her head.

She chuckled, filled with a sensation of well-being. She’d never had a relationship like this, one where you could banter and have mind-blowing sex at the same time.

“I’d have to agree,” she said, lifting her head and nipping at his chin.

He rolled to the side, finally allowing their bodies to disengage. “Let me get rid of this, I’ll be right back.”

She watched his taut buttocks and long legs appreciatively as he stepped across the hall to the bathroom and stretched languorously across the bed. She ought to move, to pull the covers down and make the bed comfortable for them both. Unless, now that they’d made love, he planned to leave?

Insecurity flooded her, making her dash across the room to where she’d slung a robe over an easy chair. She shrugged herself into it and knotted the sash, like a barrier across her body.

“What’s wrong?” Finn asked as he reentered the room.

“Nothing,” she insisted.

He walked straight up to her and gathered her in his arms. “You having regrets?”

“None,” she answered as firmly as she could, but even so, she couldn’t meet his eyes. “You?”

She tensed, waiting for his reply.

“Same, so why the frown?”

He traced twin lines between her eyebrows with his forefinger and she forced herself to relax the muscles.

“I—I guess I just don’t know what happens next. It’s been a while since I…since…” She shook her head in frustration, struggling to find the words she needed to say.

“Since you’ve been in a new relationship?”

She sagged against him. Was that what this was to him? A relationship? A tiny light of hope flared in her chest. Logically she knew it was far too soon for her to even think about embarking on a new relationship with someone. It had been a week—just one week—since she’d walked in on Trent and Zac. A week since she’d given Trent back his ring and walked away from her old life.

But why shouldn’t she grasp this, whatever it was, with Finn while she could? Grasp it and hold it tight, and ride it for what it was worth. It went against her nature, went against every instinct that told her to play it safe…but last time her “safe” choice of boyfriend hadn’t been enough to keep her from getting hurt. What did she have to lose by taking the risk?

“Yes,” she replied. “And it’s not that long since my last one.”

“I figured as much. Do you want me to leave?”

“Not at all!” The vehement response was out of her mouth before she could censor it.

Finn laughed. “It’s okay if I stay then?”

“Do you want to stay?” There was still that kernel of doubt niggling at the back of her thoughts.

“I do. Very much.”

His big warm hands slid up her back and to the back of her head, his fingers sending tingles through her scalp and releasing the tension she had there. When he bent to kiss her it was gentle, reassuring. Not the crazy heady kiss they’d shared earlier, but one that started a mellow simmer that radiated from her core. Between them she could feel his arousal stirring, felt an answering response in her.

She slid her hands around his waist, relishing the taut muscles that played beneath her fingers, relishing the fact he was here, for her and her alone. This was right, for now at least, and, reminding herself of her earlier vow, she meant to make the most of it.

This time their coming together was slow and languid. Each touch a measured stroke, each kiss lingered. When he slid inside her she was hit with that feeling of rightness, and when his long strokes drew them both to climax she tumbled over the precipice knowing she was safe and secure in his arms.

Knowing she could trust him.

Fifteen

Finn lay awake in the predawn hours, Tamsyn sprawled across his chest, her leg across his hips. He’d never been a snuggler, but somehow this felt right. So right he hadn’t wanted to lose a moment of it in sleep.