The Outskirts (The Outskirts Duet #1)

“What’s Nascar?”

Finn brushed a wet hair from my forehead. His lips turned upward into a small smile that made my stomach flip. I could tell that he wanted to ask me how I didn’t know what it was, but he refrained. “Car racing,” he answered.

“Oh, that makes sense.”

A palm frond was slapped up against the window by the wind, once again sending my fear into overdrive and between the possible concussion and my fear of the storm I felt myself dipping back into that dark place.

I closed my eyes tightly. Finn’s voice sounded like it was far off in the distance until he pushed me onto my back, covered my body with his and kissed me again.

This time the kiss was anything but brief. It was slow, methodical, deep. Instead of being lost in the storm, I was lost in Finn’s kiss.

And then I realized why he’d kept holding me at a distance from the waist down when something smooth, hard, and hot jutted up against my leg.

He was completely naked.

“Why are you kissing me again?” I asked, feeling a surge of sensations rushing between my legs. I felt the overwhelming need to part them but Finn’s thighs were around mine, keeping them together.

“Distraction,” he groaned against my lips, repeating his answer from earlier. His tongue parted my lips and when it connected with mine it opened up an entirely new level of kissing. I heard myself moan into his mouth.

Finn responded by rocking his hardness against my thigh. I didn’t know what was happening, all I knew was what I felt and what I felt was confused and flustered and like I needed something.

Finn.

I needed more Finn.

I lifted my hand and was about to feel Finn’s backside when there was a loud noise from the other room. A door slammed. “Finn, you in here?”

I recognized the voice as Miller.

Finn reached to the nightstand and grabbed a pair of sweatpants that he put on under the covers before getting off the bed and hopping up onto the small dresser on the other side of the small room.

He placed a t-shirt over his lap to hide his arousal.

His arousal…because of me.

If I’d felt empowered from buying new clothes, I felt downright sinfully happy knowing I had that effect on Finn.

By the time Miller appeared in the doorway wearing a dark blue EMT jacket, Finn looked completely unaffected. While I, on the other hand, was sure my face was red, my hair was mussed, and my painfully hardened nipples were so erect the blanket I was holding in front of my chest couldn’t cover them.

“Hey, Sawyer, how goes it?” Miller asked, crouching next to me and unzipping his medical looking tote bag. “Storm finally let up a bit. Just a little rain now.”

“Hey, Miller.” I returned his smile. “I didn’t know you were an EMT.”

“I wear a lot of hats.”

“You’re not wearing a hat,” I pointed out.

He touched his bare head. “Touché, oh freckled one. Touché.”

“You two know each other?” Finn asked, sounding irritated.

“Yeah, we sure do. Didn’t you know? We’re in love,” Miller said, winking at me while he fitted my arm with a blood pressure cuff. “If Josh never comes to her senses and has all my babies, this one here is next in line,” he tapped the tip of my nose. “Now be a good girl and tell me where it hurts,” he wagged his eyebrows suggestively.

Finn growled and Miller mashed his lips together, making a face Finn couldn’t see.

I couldn’t help but giggle, but when I did a pain exploded in my head. I rubbed my eyes.

“Careful now,” Miller warned, checking my pulse.

Miller took out a small flashlight and shined it in my eye. “I teach a pottery class on Wednesdays too if you’re interested plus, I am a professional medicinal herb distributor,” he said proudly.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“He sells weed,” Finn chimed in.

After a few more minutes of checking me over Miller announced that he had both good news and bad news.

“What?” Finn stood from the dresser.

“The good news is,” Miller looked up to me. “You’ll be fine. Your pulse is a little high. My guess is that you have a mild concussion at the most. You can get your head scanned at the ER in Bellville if you want a second opinion.”

“I think I’ll be all right,” I said, already feeling better.

“What’s the bad news?” Finn came around to stand on the other side of the bed.

Miller kept his eyes on me. “The bad news is that you’re in Finn Hollis’s bed when you should be in mine.”

We both chuckled. I couldn’t say the same for Finn.

Miller packed up and Finn walked him out, leaving the door open. They were talking in hushed tones by the door. Finn periodically glanced up and over to me and I found myself staring at his lips.

The lips that had been on mine.

I wondered if everyone’s first kiss felt that way. Like they were going to jump out of their skin because suddenly a simple touch wasn’t a touch anymore, but something that penetrated deep down beyond the surface.

No wonder kissing was such a big deal.

Because IT FELT like a big deal.

Finn was a lot of things. Highly irritable. Exasperating. A complete storm of negativity. But he was also selfless when it came to rescuing me and great at distraction.

So great in fact, that while he was kissing me, I’d almost forgotten that he hated me.





Chapter Twenty-One





Finn





I’ve met lot of girls in my life.

A. Lot.

Yet there was something so different, so distinctive about Sawyer.

I hadn’t slept. I couldn’t. I couldn’t stop thinking about her body and the way it fit perfectly against mine. She smelled like the lavender fields my grandfather used to own.

She was fragile but strong as nails all at the same time. There was a strength in her fear. A determination I admired.

And I’d kissed her.

Twice.

I’d wanted to do a lot more.

Her lips. Fuck. Her beautiful pink lips against mine made me ache to taste more of her. All of her.

Her slight hesitation and obvious inexperience only made me want to teach her.

Show her things.

The first time I kissed her, I told myself it was just supposed to be a distraction to ease her shaking. To keep her awake. The second time was for no other reason than because I couldn’t NOT kiss her again. When her body softened against mine, a caveman style surge of triumphant desire pumped through my veins.

I had to resist this overwhelming need to claim her. Mark her.

Make her mine.

She’s not yours. She can never be yours.

And it wasn’t just a need to take her body that I was fighting. It was a different kind of desire that made me pause.

The desire to want to live.

The connection between Sawyer and I was like this tangible thing around us. I’d never felt anything like it.

Not even with Jackie.

Jackie.

Then came the inevitable guilt that usually twisted my gut until I felt real physical pain at the thought of moving on without her.