Page 95 of Shattered Hearts
She’s planning to sleep on the couch. With just a pillow and blanket, Riley Brennan is telling me to fuck off.
I don’t know what I expected, but I guess I deserve this.
We obviously can’t sleep together again. It wouldn’t be wise for a whole slew of reasons. As proven by Bri, any woman who gets close to me dies. And I don’t deserve Riley anyway. Even for a short time. Besides, I’m still technically supposed to marry her sister. The list goes on.
Fuck. Unwise or not, as long as Riley’s under my care, she won’t be sleeping on my couch. She’ll be in my bed, nice and close where I can protect her, even if I’m not allowed to touch her.
My libido wars with my sense of logic. Once I find her, I just want to rip her underwear in two, drive into her until she’s screaming my name, and continue to fuck her until we?—
Stop, Finn. Stop right there. Riley’s in danger, and so is Harper. You need to have a serious talk with her, not lust over her like a sixteen-year-old at prom.
A sharp gasp catches my attention.
Behind me, hand over her heart, Riley stands barefoot and bare-legged, newly emerged from the bathroom and obviously headed to bed. Bandages cover her cuts and bruises. A fresh round of guilt stabs me in the chest like a pitchfork.
I guess she wasn’t expecting me to find her here. I startled her, but nowhere near as much as she startles me standing there and looking likethat.
A tsunami of lust draws up inside me. So much for my little pep talk.
About-to-go-to-bed Riley arouses me. Enormously.
Her freshly washed hair, a blond wave breaking over her slight shoulders. Her soft, soapy skin, her braless breasts peaking beneath an oversized t-shirt.
A wild heat makes my neck and shoulders ache. My cock throbs awake.
How am I supposed to have an important conversation with her when all I want to do is bend her over the couch and fuck her into next week?
Setting my jaw, I shift my weight. “We need to talk.”
Chapter 22
Riley
Those four little words strike fear in my heart.
I can’t even look at him. When I remember the concern in Finn’s eyes after Cian brought me home and the sweet way he kissed me, careful of my cuts and bruises, my heart squeezes. He didn’t have to go that far to uphold our charade.
So why did he?
His hot and cold, make love to me one minute and ignore me the next act confuses the hell out of me.
“Okay.” I choose my words carefully. “But can it wait until morning? It’s been a long day.”
Maybe I’m imagining the way his muscles bulge and flex all over his body when I say that. I’m too scrambled up inside to do or say anything else.
Even though I spent ninety-five percent of yesterday naked with Finn, my bare legs make me feel self-conscious. My anxious fingers curl around the hem of my nightshirt, subtly pulling it farther south.
My heart thumps hardin my chest. I’m so hyperaware of Finn’s every move, I don’t feel like myself at all. Every terrible thing he does and says still hurts me, but I also have to sit with the knowledge that when those Red Hill guys came after me, therip current of terror that tore me apart the most was the fear I’d never see Finn again…
I had that same fear the night Troy attacked me.
God, I’m pathetic. Even in what could have been my last moments, I pine over someone who doesn’t care to be with me. Someone I can never be with.
“No.” The depth of Finn’s voice yanks my gaze toward him. “It can’t.”
I had planned to fall blissfully asleep before Finn got back.
His brown eyes lick me up and down while I stand here exposed, craving his touch.