Finn Again (The Finn Factor Book 5) (2 page)

“Yes,” Jeremy moaned, still breathing hard from his release. “Yes, Owen.”

They both gasped when he guided his cock deep inside. “Good,” he sighed. “So good. Yeah that’s exactly what I need.”

He couldn’t talk anymore. Couldn’t think. All he could do was focus on holding back long enough to make Jeremy wild. He found the perfect angle and used all of his control, pounding into him over and over with unerring accuracy while Jeremy cried out his name in desperation and desire.

Owen knew his body. His big, insatiable cock was erect again, and Owen knew exactly what it would take to get it to do what he wanted.
Come again for me.
Show me who you belong to.

All he could hear was his heart pulsing in his ears and the faint, continuous sounds of pleasure coming from the man beneath him as he brought him closer to his second climax. He saw Jeremy’s fists clench in the sheets and gripped his wrist, needing to touch him. He pulled one arm behind his back and pushed his face further into the soft bed they shared. “You’re there, aren’t you?” Owen rasped. “Ready to come with me?”

Jeremy’s shout of affirmation was muffled, but full-throated. Owen was addicted to this high. The more he demanded, the more it turned Jeremy on. He’d never let go like that for anyone else. Never given that kind of trust.

Only to me.

They were both so close. It took all of his will to hold back until he heard Jeremy’s hoarse cry and felt his ass clenching around him before he let go and joined him in a release that ripped through his spine and down his cock, taking everything until he was completely spent.

He released his grip on Jeremy and fell over him. Chest to back, racing hearts slowing together, Owen tried to remember what sex was like before this, but it wasn’t worth the brain cells. Everything else paled and faded in comparison. As far as he was concerned, they invented sex and should at least get a federal holiday named after them. Or a trophy. Something.

He heard a high-pitched whine. “Shit, the dog.” Owen kissed Jeremy’s shoulder and sighed regretfully. “You start the shower, I’ll let Badass out before he takes a leak on the carpet.”

“Don’t forget to put on his booties. It snowed last night.”

Owen snorted, rolling his eyes as he stood on shaky legs and walked the large dog down the hall and toward the back balcony doors. “Fucking booties, man. You don’t really need them, do you? Your name is
Badass
. You’re covered in fur and fearlessness.” He unlocked the glass door and slid it open. “Your ancestors were roaming the—
son of a motherfucking witches
—” He slammed the door shut again as Badass whined. “I think my dick just relocated to a warmer climate. How about you, buddy?”

Owen grabbed the blanket folded on the back of the couch and wrapped it around himself like a cocoon. “Let’s get those damn booties on and get this over with.”

Luckily Badass was in no mood to linger after doing his business. He didn’t even go down the stairs, but he still came back in covered in wet snow. “Shake it off,” Owen told him. “We don’t need puddles of melting dog all over the house.” Badass gave himself a shake and Owen winced as the hard drops hit him like tiny ice missiles. He couldn’t blame him for whining and shivering. If he had to go out in that every time he needed to piss, he’d be shaking in his booties too.

Just thinking about it made him… “Damn it.”

He tossed his blanket over the grateful dog and then raced into the bathroom. Jeremy was already under the steaming hot spray when Owen ran in to use the toilet. “I think we should get Badass a jacket to match his booties. Or teach him how to go in the guest bathroom.”

Jeremy’s laugh drifted through the steam and made him smile. “That cold, huh?”

“That cold. I hope Freddy is delivering, because we’re not going anywhere today.” Owen stepped under the spray and into Jeremy’s arms, shivering and hissing as the hot water landed on his icy extremities. “On second thought, maybe I could settle for whatever’s in the fridge. I don’t want him to suffer this kind of pain. He’s got that bad knee and frostbite is a real danger for delivery men this time of year.”

“My Good Samaritan,” Jeremy murmured, kissing his neck. “The only man I know who gets a Christmas card from a pizza place.”

His beard scraped, reminding Owen of the first time they kissed and how he’d made him shave. He wasn’t going to tell him how much he liked it now. How he loved seeing the marks on his skin and feeling the sting of beard burn after a long session of loving. If he did, he wouldn’t get the joy of shaving him during their honeymoon. And he’d been practicing. It was the first thing on his to do list after tying him up.

“They do love me there,” Owen agreed, tilting his head. “And my cravings keep them in business. Now wash me and warm me, and then we’ll eat something and spend the rest of the day in bed.”

Jeremy was noticeably silent as he soaped Owen’s body thoroughly. By the time he rinsed him off, Owen was breathing heavily and toasty warm. He reached for him for another round, but Jeremy stepped out of the shower and away from his touch, avoiding eye contact.

Shit.
“What did I do?”

Jeremy sighed, shaking his head as he dried himself off. “I’m trying to decide if you’re doing this on purpose or if you really forgot.”

Owen shut off the water, his mood disappearing with the heated spray. “I didn’t forget. I was enjoying the momentary hope that you would.”

He
had
forgotten for a few minutes. Waking up with your cock in someone’s mouth had a tendency to cause temporary amnesia. But time was ticking by and there was no avoiding it now. Today was the day he’d been dreading for weeks. And nothing he said or did would change Jeremy’s mind on the subject.

He was leaving.

“This is stupid,” Owen repeated for the hundredth time as Jeremy handed him a towel. “Superstitious bullshit invented to stop men from running away if they didn’t think their future bride was as hot as her dowry. I already know you’re hot and we can plainly see that I’m irresistible. No one’s running anywhere, so just
stay with me
.”

Jeremy looked as tempted as he always did, but also just as determined. “It’s traditional. And you’ll be too distracted to notice I’m gone. Brady’s sending Rory, Noah and Wyatt here to stay with you for the duration.”

“Notice he didn’t offer,” Owen muttered. And why would he? He had a nice bed and a sexy, willing man who didn’t want to sleep anywhere else.

“He’ll be at the pub for the bachelor party. Then you’ll have a day to recover so you aren’t hung over for the wedding, and that’s it. It’ll fly by.”

Owen slammed his hand on the doorframe, blocking Jeremy’s escape. “I’ll notice that my best friend isn’t at my bachelor party. I’ll notice that my fiancé isn’t in our bed when I fall into it drunk off my ass and needing a blowjob.”

Jeremy forced a chuckle, but he was obviously frustrated. “Your best friend
has
to miss that after-party blowjob so he can marry you on Christmas Eve, you stubborn jackass. Don’t you think I’d rather hang out with the guys? Your sister keeps texting me with pictures of penis candy and bridal tiaras. She and Tasha have been exchanging dirty Christmas lyrics on my phone, most of them revolving around the size of my—” He shook his head. “That’s what
I
have to put up with for the next few days. For you. So man up and stop being difficult.”

Owen frowned. “I’m never difficult.”

“Are you kidding me?” Jeremy pushed through Owen’s barricade and headed for his dresser, letting his towel fall so he could step into his black briefs. Owen couldn’t help but admire his song-worthy semi before he covered it up. “You changed the wedding date—twice. You kept changing your mind about locations and decorations and food. If Jen’s professor hadn’t offered us the use of his…what do you call a house that big?”

“A shopping mall?” Owen muttered, though he secretly wanted to house swap for that media wall alone. “I still don’t know how he lived by himself for so long. No single person needs that much space. Our whole family could live there. Tanaka has money too, you don’t see him flaunting it.” Or having a threesome with the littlest Finn.

Jeremy rolled his eyes. “That may look like one loft, Owen, but you know Ken owns the entire building he and Brady are living in. He just has elevators instead of a grand staircase. And don’t start. You love that house. Getting married there was your call and you can’t change your mind again or I might get violent.”

Owen couldn’t argue with that. “It’s a great house and I’m not changing my mind. Everything’s settled, I promise. It all worked out in the end.”

“Not before you almost gave your mother an anxiety disorder and me a permanent migraine. But this is where I’m drawing the line. From now on we’re going traditional. Or, as traditional as we can be. That means no sleeping together or seeing each other before the wedding, bachelor parties and reception dances and every damn thing people do to celebrate the biggest day of their lives.” Jeremy paused, his lips quirking. “In deference to you, Declan has already attached the game system to his magical television wall—which will only come on
after
you’ve danced with me and taken a few wedding pictures for your mother’s sake.”

“And then we fuck each other’s brains out?”

“Yes, Mr. Romance. And then—till we’re parted by death—we fuck each other’s brains out.”

“You know the way to my heart.” Owen reached for the waistband of Jeremy’s briefs, letting his towel drop as he pulled him closer. “I’m sorry I’ve been off.” Jeremy raised his eyebrow. “Fine. I’ve been batshit crazy, okay? To be fair, since the proposal everyone’s been a little insane about our wedding. Mom kept trying to make it what
she
thought it should be, reporters started showing up at my construction sites talking about the effect our engagement was having on Stephen’s poll numbers, and you were always so busy. I was…well, I’m—”

“Spoiled rotten? Used to getting your way and having all the attention? A domineering pain in the ass?”

“Exactly.” Owen’s lips twitched. “I’m only planning on doing this once, you know. Is it wrong that I wanted to get it right?”

Jeremy wrapped his arms around him and pressed their foreheads together. “As long as you show up, it’s going to be right.”

“I’m the one who proposed, of course
I’m
showing up. And the only reason I’m letting you out of my sight is because Tasha is pregnant. If she weren’t still working full time on her twin project, I’d be afraid she’d slip something in your drink and drive you to Canada to have one last ménage with her and some skinny screamer who doesn’t deserve you.”

Jeremy snorted. “She’d never do that, Owen. And not just because she’s married to Stephen and too pregnant to see her feet. She loves you and she’s the only one who’s always known how I felt about you. Next to your mother, no one is happier about our wedding than she is. Though she is pissed about that wheelchair.”

Owen caressed the broad shoulders in front of him. Stephen mentioned something about Natasha’s head exploding when he told her the only way she could be Jeremy’s
best woman
was on wheels.

He’d offered to postpone everything until the babies were born, but his confident, politically savvy older brother had paled and begged him not to mention it again. She would, according to him, make him suffer in ways Owen couldn’t imagine if the wedding date was changed because of her. He didn’t ask for details. But knowing Tasha, he could imagine. “How is she really? You went with them to the checkup yesterday, but you didn’t go into detail.”

“You didn’t give me a lot of time for talking when I got home,” Jeremy said with a small smirk. “But yeah, I went. I guess Rory decided to come before his shift because he was there too. She’s experiencing intense mood swings, but the doctor said that’s perfectly normal. He told us she’s almost eight months, but the twins are growing fast now, which is good. They’re not going to wait any longer than they have to for the C-section. It could be as soon as two weeks.” Jeremy’s worried expression had Owen holding him tighter instinctively.

The sooner the better, as far as Owen was concerned. “And we will spoil those kids rotten to pay her back for all the trouble she’s gotten us into since high school. I just wish she’d tell us the sex so I could start planning all my
Cool Uncle
presents.”

Jeremy nuzzled Owen’s neck, his lips skimming flesh as he responded. “She ordered the doctor not to tell them, and to only give them sonogram pictures that aren’t revealing. He’s obviously more afraid of her than a sitting senator, because he’s not talking. She wants it to be a surprise.”

He’d lost his train of thought. Lips on his neck and that beard scraping his skin was all it took to distract him. God, he was so easy. Owen leaned back against the doorframe, dragging Jeremy’s hips against his renewed erection. “When do you have to leave again?”

“As soon as you let me go,” Jeremy mumbled, as distracted now as he was. “Ken and Little Finn are joining us at Tasha’s for the evening. Stephen’s only rule is that she doesn’t lift a finger.”

Owen frowned. “Tanaka’s going to be there? Why?”

“Tasha invited him. Partially so I wouldn’t be the only guy, I think, but it’s probably not the only reason. She wants to find out what’s going on with their never-ending investigation. She’s worried about Brady since Jen told her what he had Trick doing.”

He remembered Trick’s battered face after he’d helped his cousin, and he felt like a prick because he didn’t care as much about that as he did the presence of Tanaka at Jeremy’s slumber party. But he snuffed out the small spark of jealousy fast enough. Kenneth Tanaka was in love with Brady, and he was a friend. An attractive, tattooed friend who was masterful with rope and would be spending time with Jeremy when Owen wasn’t allowed to.

He moved swiftly. Hands in Jeremy’s hair, tugging until their lips met, he walked him back toward the bed. He lifted his mouth before pushing Jeremy roughly onto the mattress. “You don’t have to be in such a rush. Bend over the bed.”