The nervousness I had earlier returns with a vengeance.
I take slow steps to the couch and carefully sit down. Out of recent habit, my hand rests against my stomach. Finn gently smiles when he notices my movement before placing his hand over mine. We sit like this for a moment—our hands over the reason our relationship has changed, the reason our lives will change.
Finn clears his throat. “Today isn’t the first time I’ve met your father.”
I grow quiet, chewing the inside of my cheek before saying, “Okay?”
Where is he going with this?
Does he mean they met at the grocery store?
Did my dad find out we were hanging out and confront him?
Finn rubs his eyebrow. “I got into some trouble, and your dad was my judge.”
“Oh …” My voice wavers with just that one word. “And what kind of trouble did you get into?”
His hand doesn’t leave my belly. “When I was a minor, I did stupid shit. Shit I’m not proud of.”
“Can you define shit you’re not proud of?”
What does one define as stupid shit when breaking the law?
Punching someone?
Stealing?
Or killing?
“Shoplifting. Petty theft. I stole things I needed to survive because no one else had provided them for me.”
My shoulders relax at his answer.
I know Finn hasn’t had it easy. Not only from the admission about his parents last night. He’s made random comments about his life. Unlike some of our friends, he doesn’t talk about his parents. But also, like others, like Cohen and Georgia, he seems to agree with them when conversations of having terrible parents come up. I’ve heard stories of Finn coming from nothing and rising above it. And if my father had been worried Finn would be a threat to me, he’d have kicked his ass out of his house.
“Finn,” I whisper, stopping until I have all this attention. “I’d never judge you for that. You had a crappy childhood and had to do things you’re not proud of.” My mouth turns dry at my next question. “Did he give you jail time?”
“Nah.” Finn shakes his head. “He let me off the hook both times.”
I smile. “That means he thought you were a good kid.”
“I guess so.” He pulls his hand away and turns on the cushion to face me. “Are you sure you want your baby around someone like that? Who’s been in trouble with the law?”
I hold back from telling him his question is stupid.
Maybe it’s dumb to me, but from the distraught look in Finn’s eyes, it’s something that scares him. Losing me—losing us—terrifies the man sitting next to me with tears nearly in his eyes.
I speak softly, “Finn, I wouldn’t want any other man to be with us.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Finn
I fall down on the couch and replay Grace’s words through my head.
I grin.
Reveling in them.
Pushing them so deep into my brain in hopes that they’ll stay there forever.
I sweep my gaze to her. Affection glows in them.
I want this woman.
Physically—because damn, my dick gets hard when I just look at her. And it is hard.
But not just in that way.
I want her emotionally.
And I want her forever.
“Grace,” I say her name like a demand.
I’m not sure who goes for it first, but one moment, we’re side by side on the couch, and the next, our lips are connected. Our kiss is intense and intimate. Shifting, I grip her hips, positioning her on her back, and crawl over her. The couch is small, and there isn’t much room, but that won’t stop me from touching my girl. I have one foot on the floor, and my other knee is pushed into the couch cushion. We don’t break our kiss, and I groan when Grace rotates her hips, pushing her core up against me. Thrusting my tongue into her mouth, I claim her as we dry-hump on the couch.
My heart races as I push up her dress, lift my hand, and play with the string of her panties with one finger.
“Baby,” I whisper against her lips, “you’re soaked.”
Her panties are the wettest they’ve ever been. Her pussy is ready for me.
My heart races. We’ve messed around some, but never have we had anything this emotionally charged. I’ve touched her, tasted her, but we haven’t crossed any lines beyond that. Tonight, shit’s changed. We’re baring our all to each other, sharing a connection deeper than friendship and hooking up. We’ve said the I love you, but now, we’re exposing our true selves. The deeper we fall into each other, the deeper that love grows.
All the issues I had been worried would push Grace away did the opposite. I told her my past, and she only wanted me more. I’ve made it clear I want her to be my future. Her parents accepted her pregnancy and me. There’s nothing that can hold us back any longer. It’s as if we were waiting for the pieces to come together before passing the final line of intimacy.
Pulling back, I gently caress her jaw. “I love you, Grace. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone in my life.” No one will ever mean as much to me as she does. “It’s always been you.”
Her eyes widen, and we stare at each other, nearly in a trance.
Her breathing quickens, and when I peek down, her chest is heaving in and out.
Reaching out, she runs her hand over my neck before gripping the back of it. “Then make love to me.”
“Are you going to give me all of you?” I bury my face in the curve of her neck. “Are you mine?”
“Yes,” she whispers, shivering as I suck on her neck. “Always.”
Yes.
Always.
I fall back, sliding off her, and bring myself to my feet. Holding out my hand, I help her up. As much as I’d like to make this sexier—throw her over my shoulder or some shit like that—I don’t want to hurt her. I lead her to the bedroom, and as soon as I turn on the lights, my lips return to hers. I walk her to the bed and tenderly lay her down on her back.
Desire rushes through me, and I’d love to make this quick. To pull off her panties and shove inside her, giving it to her hard and rough. But that’s not how I want my first time with Grace to be. It needs to be special, memorable, and better for her than for me.
Grace stares at me, licking her lips, as I unbutton my shirt and toss it over my shoulder. The chill of the room smacks into my back as I lower myself over her. My dick twitches under my pants the moment it makes the slightest brush against Grace’s body.
Dear God, don’t let me nut this early. Please.
I moan when she urgently attempts to bend forward, but it’s not easy for her.
Frustrated, she falls back and frowns. “Take off your pants right now. I would, but this prego body doesn’t make it easy for me to rip off your clothes.”
I chuckle. “I guess I can do the job for you.” With a smirk, I waste no time in giving in to her demand. Popping my zipper open, I slightly climb off her in order to kick them, along with my boxer briefs, off. My cock springs forward, aching for her, and she gasps.
I stroke it. “Is this what you want?”
I never thought I’d be talking to Grace like this or jerking myself off as Grace wriggles underneath me, licking her lips. Her eyes are glued to my hand moving up and down my cock, as if it’s the best thing she’s ever watched.