Reckless, p.5
Reckless, page 5
"People aren't born good. We're brought into this world, screaming and demanding that others sacrifice themselves to sustain us. We don't care how it affects others. Society teaches us not to be selfish and to be kind, but for most people, it's a facade. It's not real. You're different. You are inherently good. Our dance team knows to come to you if they have any problems, with dance, school or even family. You don't like hurting or upsetting people. You put everyone above yourself, even when it's harmful to you. Girls like you are scared of Finn. He needs inherently good to balance out the bad he inherited—to help him be the person he's supposed to be. He needs you. He just doesn't know it yet."
Sorcha seems to have formed some kind of idea about me and Finn that she shouldn't.
"Have you forgotten that I have a boyfriend?" Maybe? I don't know anymore. After today, we might've broken up. I have no idea if I have a boyfriend anymore. And I have to admit, it doesn’t have the devastating effect on me that it should.
"No, I haven't, and I like Duncan. He's a good guy, but even I can see that you have one foot out the door. I know you're just waiting for him to step out of line to walk away. You're avoiding hurting him by not telling him you don't love him. Walking away to be happy isn't something that will make you a bad person," Sorcha says.
I groan loudly. "What is with you O'Reilly's and thinking I'm not happy with Duncan? I'm happy! Duncan is good and kind and decent and…" I trail off, not sure what else to call him.
"And not Finn?" That's true. Duncan isn't Finn, and Finn will never be the type of man Duncan is.
I recall the horrible things Duncan said to me and realize that Finn may never be like Duncan, but Duncan's issues with Finn will end up turning him into something worse than Finn—worse than any of the Bastards.
"All I'm saying is you're good, Francine, and you deserve true happiness—more than what you have with Duncan. And the best advice anyone can give you is to look out for your own happiness. Don't settle for something mediocre."
I don't know how to respond. I can't say she's right and I can't say she's wrong either, because I've never been in love. I have no idea what it feels like. Will I consider it mediocre when I find it? Am I meant to be half satisfied for the rest of my life?
"Thanks for the ride," I say before exiting the car and waving goodbye to Sorcha.
She really is such a nice girl, even if her insistence makes me want to rip my hair out. I know she wants to help. As a sister, she wants what's best for her brother, and for some reason, she thinks that's me. As a friend and a sister, her objectives seem to line up, but I don't know if that’s what I want.
I definitely don't want Finn, of all people.
Well, my mind doesn’t want him. My body is a different story. I reflect on the storage room when he touched me and my senses exploded into a white hot inferno. The clock, my breathing, my heart—everything—was louder. The lights were more vibrant, my thoughts a kaleidoscope of fuzzy images. The warmth from his closeness clashed with the chill in my skin. And all this with my clothes still on.
It was wrong and right and everything in between.
But it can't happen again. Finn screwed me over and things between us are over for good. Maybe this is for the best. I always wondered about the what if's concerning the possibilities I created in my childhood brain—made up scenarios between Finn and me. Now, I know he's just a big jerk who only cares about himself.
The house I once thought of more as a jail, keeping me and the secrets about my family, is now more like a sanctuary. After eating a quick meal of leftover chicken caesar salad, I pad upstairs to my large tub and take a nice, hot bath. Nothing else seems to have the same calming effect. What's wrong with me? Why does my mind keep meandering back on Finn and Duncan and everything that’s happened today?
A nagging voice in the back of my mind keeps screaming that I shouldn't have left school and immediately dealt with my problems. It was the wrong move, but I needed space from everyone and everything.
The strong scent of acetone wafting around my bathroom tickles my nose. I’ve decided to remove the ruby red nail polish from my fingers and toes. It's the color of love and passion, which I can't stand to see right now, so I switch it out for a berry blue. It's a sad color, more representative of my mood.
I’m blowing on my wet nails when my phone chimes.
Carefully grabbing my phone with stiff fingers, my eyes narrow in on the name. It’s Finn. He’s calling me on Messenger. I roll my eyes and ignore the call and continue blowing. Why would that asshat be calling me? I wait another minute before applying the clear coat, then my phone beeps again. I know it's not a voicemail because Messenger doesn't do that, and Finn doesn't have my real phone number.
I do yet another round of blowing on my nails to make sure they're dry before returning to my phone. It's a message from Finn this time.
I pull down the notification to look at it, so Finn doesn’t get a read receipt. I don’t want to talk to him, but I can’t deny that I do want to know what he has to say.
Finn: Open the door, Princess.
What the fuck? I almost drop my phone. Is he at my front door? How dare he show up here after what he did? Did he not think I was serious when I said I'd have him arrested for stalking?
I open my Messenger app and type out a quick response.
Francine: No! GO AWAY!
Then, I click on his picture and push the block button. He'll get the message that I'm done with him and his childish games.
Childish games? What do you call blocking him on Facebook? That seems pretty childish, too. I know my conscience is right. I am being childish, but he started it.
Started it? Case in point. Childish.
He didn't want me to have a boyfriend, so he made sure Duncan assumed that I was cheating on him.
I leave the bathroom and amble my way down the stairs but pause at a loud banging noise. It sounds like the swat team is at my front door, but then I realize it’s merely Finn’s fist. Should I call the cops? Why won't he just go away?
This is supposed to be my sanctuary, where I can hide. I slump onto the stairs, hugging my legs against my body. I want to cry. I might seem angry, but I'm more frustrated and hurt than anything. Finn hurt me and it still stings. How can that be when he's been back in my life for only a few days?
"Francine, please, open the door," he begs as he stops his onslaught of slamming fists. I bite my lip to keep it from trembling. Wait, is he really begging? I doubt very few people have ever heard that coming from Finn. "If you want to call the cops, call them. I deserve it. I know I hurt you and I fucked up. I understand if you hate me," I hear him sigh deeply, resignation heavy in his voice.
I don't hate you. I'm scared. I’m scared of what someone like you can do to someone like me. My conscience speaks up again as tears well up in my eyes.
Is that what this is? Am I scared?
I've never been scared of Finn, and I won't let myself be now.
I wipe away my tears and stand. Shoulders back and head held high, I march to the door.
He must sense my presence because I hear a soft whisper, "Please, Francine."
I haven’t even finished twisting the lock before the door bursts open coming within inches of hitting me in the face.
In front of me is a frantic Finn, his icy eyes wild with fear. Once they focus on me, he kicks the door shut. "Hey," he murmurs huskily as he cups my face in his hands, pushing the tears away with the rough pad of his thumb.
"Hi," I whisper brokenly.
His eyes search my face as my brain does somersaults. I need to push him away. That's the only option to keep my sanity intact.
No, look at him! He's so worried. It's romantic.
What? No, it's not. That's insane.
You're ridiculous.
And you're reckless!
I'm fighting with myself. One part of me wants to slap him and kick him out, while the other part wants to kiss him for coming to check on me.
It's not like Duncan will have anything to say about it. He hates me now.
I can't listen to this stupid, hopeless romantic side of me. I need to think logically.
Finn is a player. He's only trying to reinstate the bet to make me love him so he can get in my pants. After that, he'll toss me off to the side. It's not like he'll love me back when it's all over.
"You need to leave," I utter sadly.
His face shows a level of despair that can't be real.
"I told you to leave me alone, and I meant it." My lip trembles because the stupid side of me is dying from the heartache it feels. The heartache of saying goodbye to the little boy I once knew and the saying goodbye to the man he is now.
"No, just please listen to me," he pleads, as his thumb glides across my bottom lip.
"Why would I? You only want to get into my pants," I cry.
For the first time, Finn flinches painfully.
"It's not like you need me. I'm just a fucking conquest. You have girls falling all over you at school. You just want to be able to say you deflowered the only virgin left in the senior class and stick it to Duncan because I haven't given it up to him. I'm not stupid. It's not like you actually want me to fall in love with you. You just want to fuck me, you asshole." I force my eyes to the floor as more and more tears fall.
I can't look at him anymore. Finn is such a handsome man with his shaggy hair and icy blue eyes, but right now, he's ugly with emotion. His face is distorted, and I can't look at that anymore.
"I don't know what yours and Duncan's issues are with each other, but I want no part in it," I conclude as a sob falls from my lips.
I expect him to leave without a word and never look back.
But I'm wrong.
He grabs my chin between his thumb and pointer then lifts it, forcing my eyes to his. His sad, guilt-ridden expression is gone, replaced by a serious look, his thick eyebrows pulled together.
"I only have one problem with your boyfriend," he rasps before winding my hair in his hand and holding me exactly where he wants me. I can't pull back. I can't push forward. Finn is an unstoppable force, and I'm completely at his mercy. "He has something I want. It kills me because he has it and I don't, something I've been obsessed with for months, Princess," he continues.
"Really? What's that?" I whisper, ashamed to admit I'm turned on by how he manhandles me. He could easily push me against the wall, rip off my clothes, and fuck me. I'd be powerless to stop it. The strength he possesses twists my insides into something awful and my knees feel weak.
Even as hurt as I am, I still want him.
"You," he groans, never breaking eye contact.
My heart sputters. What? No, that can't be possible. Finn said he'd been obsessed for months. He only noticed me the other day!
"You keep me up at night, Princess. You and your fucking gorgeous red lips." A deep, rumbling moan slips from him as he leans into me, barely a breath away from kissing me. "And your beautiful green eyes. They're so dazzling, like mint green with a dash of lime." His eyes aren't icy blue anymore. No, they're a sapphire color. So dark and dangerous, just like him. "Not to mention, your hypnotizing voice. I've been listening to it on repeat for three months," he rasps again.
A sharp breath leaves my lips. "How?" I whisper.
His thumb skims over my bottom lip again. "Right before summer, the school play," he confesses.
I practically swoon. He watched me in the play? "Anne Frank. I played her mom," I say as I study his face.
I didn't want to be in the play, but Nyla wanted me to try out with her. She got the part of Anne Frank, and I played her mother, Edith.
Knowing Finn was there watching me fills me with something strange. A tingle runs through my body, and I feel like I'm going to faint.
"I've been stuck on you since then." Suddenly, my back is against the wall and Finn’s body is pressing me into it. Any other time, I'd push him away, but not now. Not when he's confessing how he feels. His hand moves from my chin to my throat, holding me in place. He thrusts his hips against mine, the rigid thickness in his pants pressing into my stomach.
Oh, god. He's so big... even his…
I whimper as an aroused snarl plays on his lips.
"Not only are you the center of my dreams, but you're all I think about when I stroke my cock."
My face flushes, but it's not with embarrassment. It’s arousal. "Finn," I moan.
His lips are barely out of reach. I'm craving it—the feel of his lips against mine—and the place between my legs is begging for him. This is new for me. My core has never wept like this before.
I'm losing my mind—begging and pleading for him to touch me without saying a word or moving a muscle.
"Yes, Princess?" He murmurs.
I realize that I'm not standing on my feet anymore. My legs are around his waist and the reason my core is weeping is because I'm grinding my hips against his hardness. How did that happen? Did I pass out from lust? Is that even possible?
"Damn it, babygirl," he whispers as he stares at where our bodies meet. I should stop, but my pussy is tensing more and more.
No one has ever called me babygirl, and it turns out that it makes my body purr when he does it.
"Do you want some help with that?" he presses.
I groan in frustration. My self-preservation voice isn't there. Only the aroused, needy part of me.
"Please," I finally give a voice to my inner pleading.
Next thing I know, my feet are on the floor and he’s pushing my shorts and panties down my legs. He runs his hot and wet tongue along the inside of my thighs.
I should be embarrassed by my bottom half being naked, but I'm not. All I can think about is what Finn O'Reilly is about to do to my body.
I’ve never gone this far with anyone, even Duncan. My body trembles uncontrollably so Finn moves me to the nearby stairs. No one has ever filled me with so much undeniable need. I have never experienced this much lust, except now—with Finn.
CHAPTER 6
HER
When I wake up in the morning, reality sets in. What the hell did I do?
Did I seriously let Finn… go down on me?
Sure, I didn't cheat on Duncan because I'm ninety-nine percent sure we broke up in that fight, but still, I so easily gave my body to Finn and let him do whatever he wanted to it.
And what he wanted to do was to make me orgasm over and over again with just his tongue on my clit.
That's one of my firsts he can claim, one I can never take back from him. If I’m honest with myself, part of me doesn't want to take it back, but the logical voice in my head yells at me that Finn is using me.
He's not though. I know that. I saw the truth in his eyes. This is more than just sex for him. It might not be a relationship he's angling for, but it's more than a physical attraction.
I lay in bed thinking of last night and how sore I am down south. Everytime there’s a soft ripple of discomfort, I think back to the stairs and gazing at his dark head between my naked thighs. His hands remained wrapped around my legs, keeping them open for maximum access. His eyes constantly darted between my thighs and my face, not wanting to miss the expressions he put there by his manipulations. He was so passionate about it. He didn't even try to get me to return the favor.
I don’t know what I would have done if he asked for reciprocation. It’s shocking enough that I let him take off my pants to begin with. I’m not sure how far I would have let him get. However, I’m glad he didn’t give me the option.
The desire I felt was completely overwhelming and unexpected. Unexpected because I didn’t realize that this level of passion was possible. My body betrays me, letting me know that it wants more. I'll know when I'm ready for that again or more than that. Not yet though. Not now.
I still haven't talked to Duncan. Regardless of what happened between me and Finn last night, if Duncan apologizes, I'll go back to him without a second thought. He’s the smart choice. The reliable choice.
I might lust after Finn, but I still care about Duncan. He deserves to be happy as much as anyone else—more since he's put up with me being sexually anorexic all this time.
However the whisper of Sorcha's words play over in my head.
All I'm saying is you're good, Francine, and you deserve true happiness—more than what you have with Duncan—and the best advice anyone can give you is to look out for your own happiness.
If I look out for my own happiness, who's going to look out for Duncan's happiness? I make him happy and he makes me happy. So why is Finn even an option?
Even last night, the thought of pushing Finn away after he came to me so worried broke my heart. After everything, I don't want to push him away.
It doesn't matter how much I like Duncan and want him to be happy. There will always be Finn, like there has been since I was eight. He was an unintentional wall between us then, but now that wall is tangible, menacing.
I'm just now coming to accept that. Which means I'll be leaving Duncan at some point in the next six weeks.
I've been connected with Finn since he saved me, but it's way more intense now than ever. Even if Finn doesn't love me when everything is over, I refuse to cheat on Duncan. I'll have to officially break up with him and he'll want a reason. I'll have to tell him the truth—that it's Finn.
I'll have to be honest and reveal how I first met Finn, how I only took the bet because I was certain I would win it. He'll either accept that none of this is intentional or he'll hate me.
God, I hope he doesn't hate me. That thought is like a papercut to my soul. I zip up my gym bag full of everything I'll need for a weekend at the beach before heading to the bathroom. I brush my hair as I examine myself in the mirror.
I expect to look different. Some kind of visual evidence of what happened last night, a permanent reminder of what Finn did to me.
Either Finn has a ridiculous amount of talent in the oral department, or my clit was insanely sensitive to his tongue. It must've been talent because thinking about it this morning made me super horny, so I tried to imitate what his tongue did, with my fingers.
