I miss being touched.
Loved.
Wanted.
There’s still this small part of my mind throwing up red flags. I’ve talked to my therapist about sex, to the point of exhausting the topic. If there’s anyone in this world who will take care of me in bed, it’s Finn. I trust him with my life. But the panic is still there. It lies in wait inside of me so it can spring to attention anytime I’m triggered.
The gentle touch of Finn’s fingers on my cheek brings my attention back to him. “Blair? I lost you for a second there.”
Peering up at him, I decide to tell him how I feel. I’d rather do it now than when I’m in bed with him later. If we end up in bed. “I might freak out.”
“Why would you?”
I wave my hand in front of him, mostly at his crotch. “Us, naked, in bed. It might trigger me into a panic attack. I'm not sure. I haven't been with anyone in a long time, and all those toys I have don't exactly do the same thing as a real live person.” My face immediately heats as I realize what I just confessed to. Maybe I should bring him into my bedroom and pull open the two drawers full of sex toys I have. That’s a real turn-on. Look at the broken woman and the toys she keeps because she’s too afraid to be with a man.
Finn doesn’t falter, though. His caring eyes hold mine with all the patience in the world. “We won’t go any farther than you want to. You set the pace.”
I stand and take his hand in mine. “What if I want more? What if I want it all?”
“Then I’ll be here. But if you decide it’s too much, I’ll still be here. Whether I’m holding you or making love to you, it won’t matter. Just being in your life is important to me.” My mind sticks on two words—making love. Does Finn love me? It’s not like we just met. We’ve known each other for years. Could he have fallen in love with me, even though we’ve never been intimate? Never even kissed? And better yet, could I possibly be in love with him?
My head spins at the questions running through my mind. It's going to take some doing to get me out of my head. But Finn could do it. I look at him sometimes, and the entire world falls away. He has that much power over me.
Never did I think I’d let someone hold power like that again. However, with Finn, it wasn’t me relinquishing control. It wasn’t me giving him everything at once. He’s earned bits and pieces of my trust over the years with his comfort, his unwavering strength, and his kindness.
“How about this?” he asks. “We don’t plan further than dinner to
night. We don’t think about what’s going to happen. Let’s focus on the meal and let whatever happens after that, happen.”
I smile. “I can do that. You don’t have to work?” Finn works every night and every day. He’s a workaholic. It fits with me, though. I can write through the night. I can sit and watch television then shoot up and have to jot something down. When inspiration comes, I run with it. Finn usually laughs and asks to see what I wrote. That is when he’s here. He hasn’t seen me pop awake in the middle of the night to jot down ideas on the little pad of paper I keep on my nightstand.
The idea of him being in bed with me warms me but also worries me. He’d see the quirky part of me. The author part that has wild dreams that turn into book ideas. But he’d get my nightmares, too.
“I’ll cancel the plans I had for this evening,” he replies.
“You don’t have to do that. We can go out anytime.”
"We can and we will. Tonight." Finn's eyes are molten pools of heat, and I’m held in their depths.
“Okay,” I say.
With that, he drops a quick kiss on my forehead and goes back to his side of the desk to start working again. I told him I’d get him a desk in here. He likes working with me, but he refuses every time I bring up adding something for him. I wonder if it’s because he likes looking at me when he works.
Sitting down, I glance up to find his eyes on me. I squirm a little in my seat. Is it possible to come from a look? If so, I think Finn might be able to take me there. That would be interesting. Imagine being on a date and one look from the other person pushes me over the edge into a full on orgasm, regardless of who’s around. I shake my head. I write too many smutty books. My mind is extremely dirty.
I tap a pen against my lip while I think. I wonder if Finn would be interested in playing with any of my toys. I’ve seen enough porn to know men can get off using a vibrator pressed to their dick. And they like it. No, I don’t have any cock rings, prostate massagers, or sleeves. I could get them, though, if he wanted me to.
Finn groans. “Are you trying to kill me, Blair?”
I focus on him again and realize I’m swirling my tongue around the capped pen. “Sorry.” Finn doesn’t look sorry, though. He’s gripping himself through his shorts. God, what I wouldn’t give to watch him take his dick out and pleasure himself.
“Like something you see?” Fuck, he’s cocky right now.
“I don’t think you want to know what’s running through my mind.”
“I think I do.”
“I write romance, Finn. Some of it is exceptionally dirty.”