Elizabeth Finn - Unforgiven

He didn’t see her for the next three days, and he hated it. He was anxious and uncomfortable all the time. He was also certain she was angry at him, and why the hell wouldn’t she be? He was a dick. He’d gotten remarkably good at being a dick, and it was exactly what he was being.

When he was feeling exceptionally self-destructive, he’d mentally put himself in her position, and he’d let himself imagine what he’d put her through over the past few weeks. He’d asked her to stay, then he’d let her think he’d fucked Veronica, then he’d asked her to come home with him, he’d eaten her pussy, and then refused to let her touch him. Why? Because he didn’t want her to touch him? No! He was dying to feel her touch, but he was terrified. It should just be fucking, but it was never just fucking with her. It was never just touching, kissing, sucking, fucking with her. It couldn’t be. And he didn’t know what that meant and wasn’t at all sure he was ready to find out, but rather than say that, he was a dick to her.

He practically ran away from her the morning after, and again, it wasn’t because he didn’t want to be with her. He was literally the king of confusing botched signals with her. One would have thought he’d been furious with her when he’d gone to her home after he couldn’t reach her. In truth, he was nearly in a panic. The second he’d listened to her message, he had visions of her being attacked because some lunatic was there waiting for her.

The three days apart weren’t helping matters, and he was ready to be done with it. She had no idea he was leaving work early the next day thanks to being owed a few hours from one of the other ER attendings, and he had no intention of telling her. She’d avoided him enough.

He was already thinking about seeing her that morning when he ran into the coffee shop to grab a coffee on the way to the hospital when he heard a very familiar voice.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t my favorite friend who hates my other friend but wants to bone her anyway and screw up her life because he’s a twisted, disturbed asshole.”

He rolled his eyes as he turned to see Michelle stepping into line behind him as he waited for his coffee. “Tell me how you really feel, Shell.”

She studied him with a smirk firmly planted on her face for a moment. “Okay. You need to end this thing with her before I have to scoop her lifeless, emotional soul off the highway after you’ve run it down with your Mack truck-sized anger issues.” The smirk was gone, and she was studying him quite seriously. He was caught off guard too, for a moment. End it? He wasn’t even sure there was anything to end, but he was sure as hell not going to end it—whatever it was.

“Sorry you feel that way.”

“I’m guessing that means you won’t be taking my good advice?”

“I’m smacking your good advice upside the head and telling it to butt the fuck out of my life.” He smiled as he said it, but her eyes narrowed.

“It’s her life too, and that means a hell of a lot to me. Try to remember you’re fucking about with a living, breathing human with a soul, will you? You’ll answer to me if you hurt her.” She said nothing else, and he grabbed his coffee, pecking her tauntingly on the cheek as he skirted around her. She was a feisty brat for sure, but he understood that protective nature well.

His half-day crawled by, and when he finally pulled up in front of his house, her bike was there, and he breathed a sigh of relief. When he approached the house, he could hear music and barking. He was intrigued. When he entered, the hip-hop got louder and so did the barking. When he finally made it into his living room, his heart nearly stopped. She was dancing with Macy. She was holding Macy’s front legs up as they both bounced and bopped to something that sounded very Beyoncé-ish. He stood there just watching. It was kind of heaven watching her this way. She looked happy, she looked young, and he knew the woman acting like a lunatic in his living room so well in that moment that he almost felt her happiness.

She looked up, shrieked, and dropped Macy’s paws. She ran to the stereo, turning it off quickly as Macy started racing around the room in an excited buzz. They both stood panting in front of him, and he forced the smile that was tugging at his lips to calm.

“Why are you here?”

“I want to talk to you.”

“Want to? You sure? You weren’t entirely sure what you wanted to do the other day with me. Seems you have a hard time making up your mind.” She was still panting.

It was hard to take her bitterness seriously when she was standing in short exercise shorts, the sleeves of her T-shirt shoved up over her shoulders, and her hair in a high ponytail. “Well, right now, I want you to take a run with me, then I want you to stay for dinner, then I want to play with you.”

“Play?”

“Stop asking questions and go get changed.”

She nodded, but just as she grabbed her running bag from under the entryway table in his foyer, she turned back. “So, are you going to be rude to me again after we . . . play?”

He walked to her calmly, leaning to her ear. “I said I’m playing, you’re coming, and if there’s any question what I mean by coming, I’m referring to that incredibly tight pussy of yours trembling while all those amazing little nerve endings in your clit explode in pleasure.” He pulled back, watching her cheeks blush her beautiful shade of pink. “I’m not intentionally being rude to you. I’m trying.” He turned. He didn’t want to give her defenses a chance to react. He dressed quickly, meeting her back at the front door. Macy bounced between them as they left.

She hated it when he let her take the lead. All she could think about was how big her ass looked in her running shorts and just how much more jiggle there was now than there was when she was young. When she made the mistake of glancing back at him, she was mortified to see he was focusing on exactly what she was hoping he wouldn’t notice.

“Turn around before you run into a tree.” He smirked. She took his advice as he edged up beside her. “Would you like me to take the lead so you can stare at my ass?” It was her turn to smirk. He passed her and took off, pushing her just a bit harder than the pace she’d set.

He was remarkably better at ignoring her, and he charged on, not the least self-conscious of where her eyes might be roving. She made the mistake of thinking she could handle the pace and check out his ass at the same time. She learned quickly, she couldn’t. She stumbled over nothing at all, and as the pace of her feet fell behind the pace of her upper body, she started falling forward. She pumped her feet, barely getting them back under her in time to keep herself from going down.

He looked back, catching her stumble, and as soon as she was righted and moving the right direction, she could hear him chuckling in front of her. She kicked her ass into gear, gaining on him slowly, and when she passed him, she smacked the incredibly nice ass that had nearly caused her to fall on her face. She didn’t bother looking back, partly because her little victory would lose something if she did, and partly because she didn’t want to tempt fate. Knowing her luck, she’d run smack into a tree and give herself a concussion.

By the time they reached the rock outcropping, she thought she might pass out. She walked in circles with her hands on the top of her head, and he did the same. She was sweating like a pig, and her face was on fire. It took a good ten minutes for her heart rate to slow and for her face to cool. When she felt his hands on her waist, she panicked. She was wet. Every ounce of fabric on her skin was saturated in sweat, and she could imagine no worse time to be touched by a man.

“Darren, I’m so sweaty.” She was still breathing deeply as she spoke.

He leaned to her neck, pulling his body up close to hers, and when he pushed his groin against her bottom, she groaned. It was half pleasure, half mortification. When he licked her neck from her shoulder up to the incredibly sensitive spot behind her ear, the half-mortification turned to all-out pleasure. “I’m not worried about a bit of sweat. Take a walk with me.”

“Isn’t that what we’re doing?”

“Down to the water.”

He led her down the steep hillside, winding them through thick trees until they came out at the water’s edge. It was a cove, small and quiet, and it was surrounded with a sandy beach. The cove was a hidden gem on this lake, and she was guessing few knew about it. There was no real access except for the water or the fairly impassable path through the woods.

“You do remember you’re an exceptional swimmer, right?” He was behind her again, crowding against her body enticingly as he spoke against her ear. “I used to enjoy your swim meets as much for your ass in a swimsuit as the actual swimming itself. Now how about you show me that ass? Take your clothes off.”

Her heart raced and her body coursed with warm need that far exceeded the heat of the day. “Not sure you aren’t going to grab my clothes and take off so I’m forced to run home naked.” She was stalling.

“Taking off implies I’d be in front of you, and stealing your clothes would only be fun if I got to watch you run home naked—a difficult thing to accomplish if I’m ahead of you. Now, take your clothes off.” His voice was warm and seductive, and she was very easily falling prey to his moves.

She slipped her shoes and socks off, and he took them from her hands, tossing them farther up the beach so they were well away from the water. She did the same with her shirt, sports bra, running shorts, and eventually, though she stalled for a moment, her underwear.