Just for Now (28 page)

“Involved,” Jenna sighed. “But I think his might be too.
He’s really great.
Really
great.”

“What’re you still doing here, then?” Natalie demanded. “It’s
gone eight already. Go on. Go home and get some more of that.”

But Natalie hadn’t answered her question, Jenna realized on
the bus home. Or, rather, she had. And it had been the answer she’d feared.

Finn was there to meet her in the entryway when she stepped
inside.

“Kids OK?” she pulled back from his embrace to ask.

“In bed, and asleep,” he confirmed. “I checked. So go put on
some of that new gear, and come upstairs.”

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea,” she hesitated. “Tonight.”

“Why? Are you on your period? Don’t care.”

“No!” she laughed, blushing. “No. But . . . Never mind,” she
capitulated. “I’ll ask you later.”

“Later would be better,” he confirmed. “As in later, in bed.
After I’ve looked at you in those thong panties enough, and taken them off. I
have such good ideas.”

“OK,” she smiled. “But I need a shower first.”

“Brilliant,” he told her. “We’ll take it together, get
started in there. And then maybe you’ll put on those black things for me, the
ones you wore the first night. With the stockings. And we can try something I
have in mind. And then I’ll take some of it off, and we’ll try something else.
Because I just remembered. It’s your Unbirthday, tonight.”

“Finn,” she said quietly as they lay together later, still
breathing a bit hard. “Am I a nymphomaniac?”

“What?”
He laughed, propped himself on an elbow to
look at her. “You?”

“Because I asked Natalie tonight. How much was . . . you
know. Normal. And she didn’t say, exactly. But it seems like I think about it
too much.” She felt herself blushing, went on determinedly. “All the time. And
I want to do it every day. I think that’s too much. From what she said. That
most women don’t feel like that. What does that make me?”

“Hot,” he told her firmly. Lay back down next to her and
pulled her against him.

“Besides,” he went on more thoughtfully, his hand stroking
over her back, “seems to me you went through a fair few of your prime years
shut down in that department. Could be you’re just catching up. And we only
have a few weeks here. Got to pay it forward as well.”

“That’s true,” she said more cheerfully. “What about you?
You seem to think about it a lot too.”

He laughed again. “I’m a bloke. It’s what we do. Haven’t you
heard? Yeh, I think about it a fair bit. And I’m doing some catching up too,
remember?”

“What? A few months, maybe? It hardly compares, does it?”

“Oi. For me, it does,” he protested. “And remember, I spent
those months living with you. And
I
knew what the possibilities were.
What I was missing. So I’ve been saving all this up. Just like you.”

“I’m not a nymphomaniac, then.” She wriggled closer to the
warmth of his big body.

“Dunno. Are you eyeing the postie, these days? Wondering how
he looks under that sexy uniform?”

“No!” she giggled.

“My mate Ian looking good to you today?” he asked in mock
alarm. “Got you fancying a shag in the supply cupboard after all?”

She hit him in the chest. “You know I’m not. Don’t be silly.
You know it’s just you.”

He leaned across her to turn out the bedside light. “Reckon
you’re not a nymphomaniac, then,” he said, rolling her over and settling
himself around her spoon fashion, one big arm resting across her chest. “And
that I’m a lucky fella. Now go to sleep, please.”

“I should go back to my own bed,” she protested, nestling
into him.

“I’ll wake you in time,” he promised. “And I love to fall
asleep with you. Stay with me.”

“What the . . .
Jenna
!”

She winced at the slammed door and the volume of the shout,
then took a deep breath and continued sorting laundry. Listened to Finn
striding through the house, still shouting for her, until he appeared in the
doorway of the laundry room, a paper in his hand and a scowl on his face.

“I’ve been calling you,” he told her in frustration. “Why
haven’t you answered?”

“I can’t hear you when you shout that loudly,” she told him
calmly as she finished loading the machine.

“I don’t like to be yelled at,” she clarified as he stared
at her in bafflement. “Now that you’re not shouting, though, what can I help
you with?”

“This.” He held up the paper, shook it for good measure.
“Did you see this?”

She nodded, added detergent and fabric softener to the
machine. “I found it in Sophie’s backpack this morning and put it out for you.”

“She’s been reading under the desk in class, not paying any
attention? So much that the teacher has to write to me about it? I’m going to
have a few words for her when she gets home.”

“Maybe you should find out more about it first,” she
suggested.

“What is there to find out about? It’s unacceptable.” His
voice was rising again.

“Please don’t yell at me. If you want to discuss this, we’ll
talk. Otherwise, take your anger somewhere else,” she told him firmly.

“What is there to talk about?” he asked again. But he did
lower his voice.

“Well, for one thing, is she doing it in every subject, or
just in some?”

“What does that matter?”

“I’m thinking if it’s during math or science, it’s an issue.
But if it’s just during reading . . .” Jenna shrugged. “It could be that she’s
bored. She’s reading and writing a couple grade levels above her age, you know.
Have you looked at the work she brings home?”

“Not much,” he admitted.

“Maybe you ought to do that. It’s too easy for her, Finn.
She should be doing something that will push her. Maybe she could even join a
Year Four or Five classroom every day for reading and writing. Or read and
write about some of her own books. I don’t know for sure, of course, but I’m
guessing that could be the issue. You might want to have a talk with the
teacher before you discuss it with Sophie.”

“Right. I’ll do that,” he said grudgingly. “But in any case,
she needs to pay attention during school. That’s her job. She needs to work at
it.”

“Granted. But it’s also the school’s job to challenge her.”

“Why do you have to be so bloody reasonable?” he grumbled.
“You have an answer for everything. You won’t even let me yell.”

She smiled. “Guess you’ll have to save all that explosive
power of yours for the rugby field. You’re probably too bottled up right now, three
whole weeks with no practice or anything.” She turned on the washer, leaned
over to pull the towels from the dryer. Then jumped at the feeling of his big
hand closing over her backside.

“You could be right,” he told her, his other hand reaching
out now to pull her back against him. “Reckon I need another outlet for my . .
. explosive power.”

“Finn,” she laughed as he pulled her close with one hand and
reached around to unbutton her blouse with the other. “I’m doing the laundry
here.” The laugh turned to a moan as he bent to kiss the side of her neck, one
hand pulling off her blouse, under her bra now, the other hand moving beneath
her skirt.

“Mmm. So sexy doing it, too,” he said. “Barefoot. Very
cooperative of you to wear this little skirt. Almost like you were expecting
me.”

She felt him hard against her and couldn’t help pressing back
into him as he used both hands now to pull off her underwear, then unhooked her
bra and tossed it aside. “It’s the middle of the day,” she protested weakly.

“Kids in school, hot woman getting her gear off,” he agreed.
“Works for me.” He looked around, walked her over to the big laundry table, the
folded clothes stacked neatly on top.

His breath was coming faster now. “Bend over and hold onto the
edge,” he instructed, undoing his belt and unzipping his jeans.

Her eyes opened wide even as a rush of heat flooded through
her. “What?”

“Do it. Please,” he amended. She heard the sound of the
condom packet ripping. He really did mean to do it right here. Feeling both
embarrassed and excited, she bent over and reached out both hands to grasp the
table’s edge. She felt him hard behind her as his big hands came around to
cover her breasts. Feeling him like this, not being able to see him, her
vulnerable position, his hands on her, pinching the nipples now, all combined
in a rush of sensation. She moaned as he let go of her breasts, flipped up her
skirt, and positioned her to push himself inside.

It should have been too soon, but she was more than ready
for him. She backed up against him as he held her, pushed into her again and again.
Heard his breath coming hard now, matching her own. When he reached his hand
around to rub her, she pressed back against him, moaning with it now.

“Please. Yes. Harder,” she gasped as he thrust into her, his
hand never stopping. She was past caring how she looked, bent over the table
like this, how hard he was holding her, the force of it. He took her higher and
higher, more and more, until she released with a wailing cry.

He needed to see the rest of her, right now. He pulled her
upright, lifted her up onto the table, pushed her down and pulled her hips
level with its edge, open to him. Stepped up to her, one hand on each white
thigh, and slowly, so slowly, entered her again. Watched her head go back, then
move from side to side as he thrust.

“Tell me,” he got out as he moved. “You need to tell me . .
. aah . . . which way you like it. When I get the right spot, the right way for
you.” He shifted position a bit, moved her legs wider apart, reached his hands
underneath her to pull her even closer, lift her into him. “Better?”

“Ah . . .” Her hips rose in his hands to meet him. “Yes. Yes.
Do it like that. More.” Her own hands went to her breasts, caressing them as he
moved in her, and his excitement ratcheted up another notch. She was moaning
again now, calling out to him. He felt the moment when she began to go up
again, and this time, when she went over the top, he was there with her, in an
orgasm so powerful it was almost painful, shouting out his release with her.  

Afterwards, he grabbed a dirty T-shirt from the laundry
basket at his feet, wiped both of them off with it. Zipped himself up again and
helped her off the table, steadied her against him when her legs wobbled.

“All right?”

She laughed shakily and let him hold her against him, rested
her cheek against his broad chest. “Not sure. I’m going to have to fold all
these clothes again, too.”

He smiled. “Tell you what, I’ll help you. Since I’m the one
who jumped you. Sorry. Not too romantic. Your fault, though. You’re too sexy. I
needed to throw you down this time. But come on. We’ll take a shower and start
over again in bed. I’ll make it up to you.”

“I wasn’t exactly complaining.”

“You were screaming, though,” he grinned. “But you’re right,
it didn’t sound like complaining.”

“Very gentlemanly of you to mention that. But I can’t. If I
don’t go to the grocery store before I go meet the kids, you aren’t going to
have any dinner. You wouldn’t want me to get in trouble. I have a very mean
boss. You should see what he does to me.”

“Bet if you made him happy enough, he’d take you and the kids
out to the pub instead,” he suggested, his hands moving to pull off her skirt
at last. “And I know how you can do that. Starting by walking up those stairs
in front of me.”

 “You already got pretty happy,” she pointed out. “And I got
very
happy.”

“Come on,” he urged. “Come make me even happier. I’ll tell
you exactly how. And then you can tell me.”

“I can’t finish, Daddy,” Sophie said with a sigh.

“No worries,” Finn answered, pulling her plate towards him. “I
have room.”

“I was wondering why you didn’t insist that she get the
kids’ version,” Jenna remarked. “Now I get it.”

He grinned at her. “They do a pretty fair steak here. But
their bangers and mash are choice. And you know how I feel about getting
everything I like.” He speared a chunk of sausage and smiled at the kick she
sent him under the table.

“What?” he asked innocently, wiping his mouth with his
napkin.

“Well. Fancy meeting you here.” Jenna turned around to see
Ben Thompson arriving at their table. “Giving Jenna a bit of a holiday from the
kitchen, eh.”

“That’s right.” Finn looked Ben over. “You’ve packed on a
kilo or two since the end of the season, haven’t you? Bit too much beer, maybe.”
He nodded to the glass in Ben’s hand. “Want to watch that.”

“Finn, for heaven’s sake,” Jenna protested. “Would you like
to join us, Ben? We’re finishing up, but sit down for a minute and have a chat.”

“Dunno.” Ben looked at Finn challengingly. “Not sure how
welcome I am.”

“Nah. Sit down.” Finn shoved a chair out with his foot and watched
as Ben levered himself into it, taking a sip from his brimming glass. “Jenna
thinks I’m rude, so I’ll try again. How’re you going? Thought you’d be in the Coromandel
for the fishing.”

“Another couple weeks,” Ben said. “Planning a trip to Tonga
too, next month.”

“Wow. That sounds great.” Jenna said enviously. “It’s nice,
I hear.”

“You’ve never been? How about the other islands?”

“Fiji once, years ago,” Jenna said. “But that’s it. Do you
go a lot?”

“Every year, at least once. Go with a few mates, do a bit of
diving, some fishing. I went to Samoa after the semifinal this year, drowned my
sorrows.”

“Yeh. I heard,” Finn said. “And I was serious. You don’t
want to come back out of condition in January. It may seem like you have heaps
of time now, almost three months out. But you’d be surprised how hard it is to
climb back if you let yourself go. Want to make sure you’re getting the running
and the gym time in, too. You’re looking a bit soft around the midsection.”