and being strong or unique doesn’t make you less feminine.’
She didn’t see all women as weak. Did she? Then again, she’d never known many women. Only her dad’s bits of fluff, and they all seemed desperate somehow. Serena had watched them, thinking how bizarre they all were, flitting to and fro, trying to make her dad happy, in the idiotic assumption he would keep them. Desperate. Weak. But wholly feminine. Had she subconsciously knitted the two together?
Finn had told her she was feminine. His words, ‘Of course you are… In your own unique way…’ came back to her. She’d taken them as a kind of insult, but at the same time had longed for him to mean it. Despite or perhaps because of the shoe-slipper debacle.
Finn saw far more than what met the eye. Behind the celebrity persona he had a depth of intensity and an intelligence that astounded and intrigued her.
‘People underestimate you, Finn,’ she murmured, and the show continued all around them, just as the world still spun, ignorant of the seismic shift inside of her.
Seismic since she suspected that he was not only right but that her issues ran far deeper. Too deep for her to delve into that gorge right now.
‘Always a bad idea,’ he said, with an arrogance that made her smile.
With her gaze glued to the sinuous, serpentine movements on stage, she could feel him staring at her.
‘It’s enthralling, don’t you think?’
‘Absolutely mesmerising,’ he said, still watching her.
‘Provocative,’ she whispered.
‘A unique kind of sensuality.’
Her heart did a trapeze artist flip in her chest. In Monaco he’d said similar words to her.
Unable to resist a moment longer, she turned to look at him.
Face flushed, he licked his lips, as if his mouth was over-dry.
‘Finn…?’ she breathed. ‘Aren’t you going to watch?’
‘I am watching, baby. The only thing worth looking at.’
Whoosh. Her heart did another flip. Three somersaults and a free fall. And just like that she struggled to breathe.
Before she knew it her eyes had closed and she leaned forward, needing his mouth on hers so badly her entire body ached—and that was nothing compared to the flood of moisture low in her pelvis, the incessant clench demanding satisfaction.
French vocals drifted on the air—a sultry line that enhanced the suggestive notes pluming around them:
Would you like to sleep with me tonight?
Another Serena might have asked—a braver version, one who was confident enough to know she could satisfy a man like him, one who knew she’d feel no regrets in the morning. The real Serena couldn’t guarantee any of that.
His warm breath trickled over her lips, yet intuition told her he wouldn’t close the ever-so-small gap—a virtual Grand Canyon, considering the past that lay between them and all the reasons for them to rebuff this weird and wonderful attraction and simply walk away.
Just the thought that he might take the decision from her kicked her doubts to the kerb and she prised her eyes wide.
His eyes were as dark as midnight, glittering like the stars above, and from nowhere she found the strength to move in, close that gap, lick over his full bottom lip and then bite down to tease with a gentle tug.
Lust…
Finn growled.
Heat…
‘Back off, Serena.’
More. Another lick. Another soft suck. Another tender bite. He returned it with sharp yet gentle teeth, then kissed away the sting, causing her to shiver and the deep ache in her body to spike.
‘You really want me to take you right here?’ he rasped.
That stopped her.
Visibly shaken, her hand trembled as she brushed the hair from her sticky nape and leaned back in her seat. Her sensitive breasts chafed against the cotton of her plain bra and she had to stifle a whimper.
Who knew how long she sat there, her lower body contracting around thin air, while a surge of mortification because she couldn’t control her own body inched her anger levels up the charts?
Intermission hit and, unknowing what to say, what to do, feeling seven kinds of stupid that she couldn’t make light of the fact that she was teetering on the edge of an orgasm or handle it in some practised feminine way, she launched to her feet.
‘I’m going to the Ladies’.’
And she shot through the crowd at a fast clip.
She had to cool off and there was only one way to do it. As far away from Finn St George as she could possibly get.
‘DON’T GET A fright,’ Finn murmured, taking a tentative step closer to where she stood in the dark corridor that led to the plush offices at the rear of the tent. How she’d found her way around here he wasn’t sure, but for the six minutes it had taken to find her he’d never felt so ill in his life.
Seemingly ignorant of the shadows enveloping her, Serena faced the wall, her head bent forward, brow kissing the evocative red plaster, as her supple body shook violently.
His heart hammering, his insides writhing in a chaotic mess, Finn braced his hands on either side of her head, then buried his face in her neck and inhaled a sweet burst of summer fruits—a scent that pacified, a taste that he’d come to associate with her. One he would never forget. One he wanted to lap right up.
He nuzzled up to her ear. ‘Let me take the edge off, baby.’
He shouldn’t have brought her here. She was burning. He’d never seen anything like it. Or felt anything like it. He was going insane with lust. Yet he had no intention of taking his pleasure from her. For once in his life he was going to be unselfish. Give instead of take. Douse her fire well and good.
For a second he thought she’d refuse, and despite knowing it was probably for the best he felt his guts twist tight. And then she turned and, bam, her mouth was on his, and she was twining her arms around his neck and thrusting into his mouth.
Just like that his largesse slipped a gear. Aw, man, this was not good. This was going to be harder than he’d thought. Much, much harder if the erection that strained against his zipper was anything to go by.
Grateful that she’d found her way round to this section of the tent, Finn picked her up, wrapped her legs round his waist and carried her straight into his friend Zane’s office, thanking fate that he’d passed the man only moments ago and orchestrated thirty minutes of privacy.
He
