Against the Tide (15 page)

“Yes, do it, for fuck’s sake, just do it,” she answers without hesitation.

I pop the locks on the doors and get out, jogging around to the passenger’s side. I fling it open, and take in her flushed face and lust filled eyes. “Get out,” I order. She complies instantly which makes me even harder against the zipper of my jeans. “Turn around and put your hands on the roof.” There’s no hesitation. It’s either lust or a sixth sense that makes her trust me, I suspect a little of both. I know I won’t hurt her, well, not unless she wants me to, but she doesn’t really know that. I stroke a finger down the middle of her back, making her shiver and then I run my hand around her tiny waist. I pop the buttons on her jeans one by one and give a little tug, pulling them down so they hang around her knees. I roll my palm over her tight arse and without warning bring my hand back to smack it hard. She cries out. The most delicious, unbridled cry of pleasure I’ve ever heard.

“You like it dirty, Megan?”

“Yes,” she whimpers as I gently kiss her neck, and I swear to God, I could come just by listening to her breathe out that word alone. I unzip my jeans and let them fall just below my hips as I press myself into her from behind. With one hand wrapped in her hair, I place the other gently around her throat, stroking her racing pulse with my thumb. She throws her head back, arching her back and tilting her hips so she pushes hard in to my groin.

“You like it fast and filthy, Meg? Not one for the lovey stuff, huh?” With my fingers still wrapped around her throat I pull her head back to rest on my shoulder, exposing her beautiful skin. I suck where her shoulder meets her neck then scrape my teeth along the sensitive spot. I let go of her hair and grab her arse, pulling her cheeks apart.

“Finn,” she moans breathlessly, and the sound of my name coming from her lips in a wave of desire makes it impossible for me to wait any longer. I pull the thin fabric of her thong to the side and position myself at her entrance while still holding her neck tightly to me. She pushes back in to me as hard as she can, but I just about keep control and stop myself from thrusting forward on her attempt of a command.

“Meg?” I whisper in her ear, before nipping the lobe with my teeth. I wait until she’s just about to answer, then thrust forward and up into her fast, tearing her answer from her in a ragged scream.

“Yes, fuck yes,” she pants as I drive in to her over and over. If she wants fast and filthy, that’s what I’m going to give her. No sweet nothings. No ‘I love you’s’. “Fuck me like you hate me, Finn,” she demands through gritted teeth. Her jaw is set in a hard line but her body is giving away the passion and desire pulsing from her. I’ve never met a girl that’s so raw, so unapologetic for what she wants, it drives me faster, and harder. I push so far in to her our bones crash together. I slap her arse hard with an open palm and watch her reaction as her eyes roll back, lost in sensation. She leans forward, holding on to the door frame and I grip both of her hip bones with my hands.

“I hate you, Meg,” I grit out, feeling more conflicted than I ever have in my life. I hate that I want her. I want so much to hate her. But even saying it aloud doesn’t convince me that it’s the truth.

“Good,” she answers, matching my rhythm thrust for thrust. “I fucking hate you, too.”

My jaw clenches tight as I feel my release building, I can’t get far enough in to her. I can’t get enough of how she feels, her heat gripping me tightly, her tight little arse pushing back in to me and her little moans and cries being carried away on the breeze. She lifts her leg, propping it on the door ledge and I almost lose my shit there and then. It’s deeper, and triggers so much sensation that I can’t hold out. She drops one of her hands, letting her index finger push between her legs. “Finn, fuck, I’m coming,” she cries out as her muscles start to spasm around me. I let go as she comes undone and I follow just behind her. Breathless and light headed, I rest my forehead between her shoulder blades while my body shudders and twitches inside her. The horniest thing I’ve ever seen, or ever done. I’d even be willing to bet that if Meg and I ever fucked again, even she wouldn’t be able to top that.

I rest my head against the metal door frame, trying to catch my breath. How the hell did that happen, again? I clench my teeth together and take a deep breath. I’m so pissed off. Pissed off at him, pissed off at myself. I’m angry because I liked it, I’m angry because I wanted it so damn much that I gave away my integrity. Fuck, I pretty much gave away any dignity I had and his respect for me might as well be none. I stand up abruptly, pushing him away. I pull up my jeans and do the buttons up while fighting back the burning tears of shame. He kidnapped me, drove me to a secluded spot and told me he hated me while he fucked me as hard as he could. He held nothing back. Nothing at all.

I can see Finn out of the corner of my eye looking at me warily as he buttons his jeans back up too. Just as he said, no lovey dovey stuff, just raw and detached. Mutual gratification. Wham, bam, thank you, ma’am.

“Meg. I−” I don’t even want to hear what he has to say. I can’t listen to his voice so I cut him off and spin around to face him, pinning him with a glare.

“Don’t,” I snap. “I don’t want anything from you. You don’t want anything from me. Just leave it and take me back.” I get in the car and slam the door hard. He doesn’t move for a second, just looks down at me through the window before letting out a deep breath and coming around to the driver’s side and getting in.

I’m silent. He’s silent. It’s fucking horrible. He drives out of the gravel car park, kicking up the dirt with spinning wheels before pulling out on to the smooth road. The car purrs as we drive, and I wish it were a noisier engine just to break up the silence hanging between us like a thick fog that chokes me. I don’t have the strength to talk, I have nothing to say anyway. I don’t even know this guy, so what’s the deal with letting him do this to me,
twice
? The first time was exhilarating. A thrill like no other and a boundary that I thought I’d never cross. And now this … indescribable encounter. It felt like everything at the time, and nothing just seconds after. Hate mixed with desire, a potent combination with a steep reality drop after the high. Every second that ticks by seems like a minute, every minute an hour. I look out of the window as the streets whiz by and shake my head at how fast things seem to have unravelled. I laugh under my breath. Well, at least he didn’t
just
get me pregnant.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, his tone is flat and his brow creases.

“You really want to know?”

He shrugs, “You want to tell me?”

“No,” I say flatly, momentarily stunned at the softness of his tone. He blinks and looks away, concentrating hard on the road and gripping the steering wheel with such force his knuckles are white.

“You can just drop me at the end of this road,” I tell him. It’s a little further away from Jamie’s than I would like but I have cash on me and can get a bus, and I do not want him knowing where I live.

“You’re kidding me, aren’t you?” He turns to look at me with a chuckle, then turns his eyes back to the road.

“Do I look like I’m kidding? You’re not dropping me to the door like some kind of chivalrous date.”

He laughs, “No, you’re right, I’m not doing that. You’re coming with me.”

“What?”

“Megan, I told you before that I want answers. Nothing has changed.”

“So you’re kidnapping me?” My voice rises with disbelief.

“Would you like me to kidnap you? Would it get you off?” he smirks, and I want to slap that grin right off his face. He glances from me to the road ahead and hits the brakes when the traffic light changes red in front of us. I grab the handle to open the door and pull hard, it’s locked. How did he do that without me noticing? Actually, there could have been bombs detonating around us when I got back in the car and it wouldn’t have registered.

“You’re a grade A prick, you know that?” I huff, crossing my arms in front of me.

“Proud of it, sweetheart.”

He continues to drive with a smirk on his face. Cocky fucker. He might joke about kidnapping me, but I know he won’t actually hurt me. Don’t I? How do I know that?

He pulls up outside a terraced house and parks the car, getting out to open the door for me on my side. “Such a gentleman,” I comment. The irony isn’t lost on me that just a half hour ago he really wasn’t being a gentleman. On the other hand, I really wasn’t being a lady either. Maybe he has multiple personality disorder. I ignore the hand he extends to help me out and scowl at him instead, getting to my feet and standing on the pavement.

He tips his head. “This way,” he instructs, leading the way up a little path and opening the door to the house.

“Harley, you home?” he calls out, and I wonder who Harley is. There’s no answer and I’m guessing that if he had a wife or girlfriend he wouldn’t have risked bringing me back here. Harley’s a guy’s name, right? “After you…” He sweeps his hand forward gesturing for me to enter. He follows so closely behind me that I can feel his breath on my neck. He brushes past me and pushes the door open to a room on the right. “Go in there and take a seat. Can I get you a drink?” he asks as if this is a normal every day situation.

I frown and shake my head. “I’m sorry, but what the fuck is this? I don’t know what’s happening here. First you fuck me, then you hate me, then you fuck me again. And now, I’m getting a vibe from you that you’re back to hate, so forgive me if I don’t settle in to your sofa while you make me a drink and we sit down to watch a nice movie together.”

He stands in front of me, our chests only an inch apart, and he just watches with the slightest hint of amusement creasing his eyes in the corners. He raises his hand and takes my chin gently between his thumb and forefinger, his eyes not leaving mine for a second. “You want me to be romantic? Huh? You want small talk?”

“No, I−”

“Then I’ll go and make us tea, you take sugar?”

“Two,” I whisper.

“Make yourself at home.” He indicates for me to enter the lounge.

Today has been bizarre from the minute the sun came up. None of this makes sense. My thoughts don’t even make sense to me, so they would sound insane if I were to voice them to anyone else. I look around the room. It’s most definitely a bachelor pad, no soft furnishings, and no pictures of girlfriends or wives. It’s just a guy’s space with an Xbox, and DVDs stacked on shelves which reach almost to the ceiling. Two brown leather sofas and a massive flat screen TV line the perimeter of the room and I choose to sit on the arm of one of the sofas listening to him making tea in the kitchen. Then common sense finally hits me. What the hell am I doing here? I’m free to leave at any time. He can’t keep me here. I stand up, slinging my bag over my shoulder and head for the door.

“Going somewhere?” he asks, leaning against the kitchen door just down the hall.

“Yes,” I reply indignantly. “I’m leaving. You can’t keep me here. I don’t want to be here.”

He sighs, picking up two mugs of tea from the kitchen counter and walks toward me. “If I ask nicely, will you stay?”

I blink and look at the ground, not knowing what to do with this gentle side of him. I’m insanely attracted to the rough, unapologetic side of him, but this soft side throws me off kilter.

“I just want an hour of your time. There’s something you might be able to help me with. I know … I know we haven’t gotten off on the right foot. Well, maybe, but you know what I mean. An hour, then I’ll never bother you again,” he says with a touch of desperation. I see a hint of vulnerability in him, a side of him I haven’t seen before and I’m sure it’s something he doesn’t want me to see.

“You’ll never bother me again?” I ask, praying it won’t be true.

“Uh huh,” he answers, walking past me and sitting down in the middle of his couch.

“Well, that does sound tempting.”

“Come. Sit.” He pats the small space beside him on the couch and even though we’ve been together in far more intimate ways, it feels too weird to be snuggled up next to each other like that. Too close. Too normal. None of this is normal, and I have to keep reminding myself that this isn’t some kind of weird dream that I’m going to wake up from any second, this is reality. My reality. I decide to sit on the other couch and rest on the edge.