Gretchen followed Finn wordlessly into his apartment. He flipped on a light as he made his way through the open living room to the sleek yet sparse kitchen. He dropped his keys in a bowl and braced his hands on the counter, dropping his head. Gretchen stood without speaking, trying her best to quiet her breathing so she wouldn’t further annoy him. She was still reeling from the way he had talked to her at the club, and she wasn’t sure either of them would survive a private confrontation now.
“Go take a shower,” he told her, turning his head toward her. “My room is through there.” He nodded to the door next to the floor-to-ceiling windows.
She only stared back at him, not moving.
“Go take—”
“Why?” she asked him quietly. “You want to pretend this didn’t happen, Finn? You want me to erase any—”
“I want you to get rid of that wig. I want you to fix whatever it is you’ve done to your eyes. I want you to wash off that whore perfume, and I want you to come back out as Gretchen,” he raged before reining in his fury. “My Gretchen,” he finished in a whisper.
“But you wouldn’t touch Gretchen,” she spat, watching him as he stalked to the shelf holding several expensive bottles of liquor.
“Do you think that’s because I don’t want you? That I don’t fucking ache for you, Gretchen?”
“But you only slept with me because you thought I was a whore.” Her eyes stared back dull, and yet full of hurt.
“Because fucking some whore couldn’t be nearly as dangerous as making love to you.”
Her breath caught, the tears she had thought she had gotten under control sprang back full force.
“Finn, I would never do anything to hurt you or…” She began moving toward him.
He turned on her and gave a swift nod of his head. “Yet here we are,” he told her softly, meeting her eyes for a moment before dropping his gaze. “Go take a shower,” he told her again and left the room.
Gretchen took an unsteady breath, listening as he retreated down the hall and slammed a door behind him before she forced herself to walk to his bedroom. As she passed his bed, she tried not to think of the women he had shared it with, tried not to wonder if he had ordered them to shower and refused to look at them afterward. She surveyed the room, trying to gain an insight into Finn she knew he would never give her outright, but there was nothing personal in the room to mark it as his except the unmistakable scent of him she would have known anywhere. She walked into the stark-white bathroom and kicked off her heels, letting the cool tile ease her tired feet.
She looked around the room at Finn’s razor by the sink and his toothbrush in the holder and bit back the tears threatening to escape her throat. She peeled off the tight, too-short black dress and dropped it on the floor, along with her thong, and went to the sleek glass shower. Unsteadily, she turned on the hot water and let it run before going back to the mirror to carefully remove the wig from her hair, pulling out the pins and letting her own long blonde hair tumble free. She ran her hands through the tresses, releasing the tension on her scalp, and leaned close to the mirror, taking out the contacts and throwing them in the wastebasket under the sink. She looked in the mirror at the girl staring back at her and wondered if Finn would ever see her as more than Brock’s little sister, the untouchable Christensen princess, and she wondered if her heart would let him go if he couldn’t.
When she turned off the shower and stepped out, she found two fluffy white towels hanging on the bar by the shower door that had not been there before she got in. She wrapped herself in them, reveling in the warmth. Her clothes and shoes were gone, so she made her way back into Finn’s bedroom. He had laid one of his shirts on the bed for her, and she smiled despite herself as she dried herself and slipped it on.
After she had combed her long hair and put away her towels and was out of any other reason not to go into the den, she warily made her way to the bedroom door. She stopped when she spotted him by the window, staring out at the lights below, dressed in gray sweats with a drink in his hand. Her chest tightened for just a moment as she watched him, all of the love she had had for him over the years converging in this moment to consume her. He turned then, meeting her eyes, and she saw that he had showered also. She tried to ignore the disappointment that he hadn’t wanted to be next to her.
“Gretchen,” he whispered and a slow smile curved his lips deliciously. She swallowed as he made his way toward her.
“Would you like a drink?” he asked, lifting his own glass, but she only shook her head. He sighed and finished his before setting down the empty glass. He sat on the arm of his large black leather couch and studied her, his hands clasped between his thighs.
Gretchen vaguely registered the sound of music floating around them and she turned her head, trying to decipher the tune, when suddenly he stood and came toward her again, his hand outstretched.
“Dance with me,” he directed, but she shook her head. “Come on,” he urged, taking her hand lightly in his own and tugging her toward him. She stumbled only slightly as she went to him, but her breathing stopped completely when his arms went around her waist, pulling her against him so that her breasts, bare but for the fabric of his shirt, pressed against his naked chest.
“We’re good at this,” he whispered, and his breath on her neck was pure agony.
“Finn, please.” She tried to pull away.
“What? I thought you wanted me to touch you, Gretchen, to hold you and fuck you.”
He felt her flinch at the harshness of his words and tears pricked at her beautiful green eyes. He wondered when they had changed from reminding him of childhood meadows to fertile Irish fields where a man could get ensnared.
“That’s not what you want?” he asked, breathing in the scent of her and noticing, not for the first time, a faint hint of her arousal. “Because I know you want me,” he told her.
She trembled in his arms, the hard pebbles of her nipples pressed against his chest.
“Why do you have to make it sound so vulgar?” she asked him, and he wondered at that himself, because even he knew that as he had driven into her earlier, he hadn’t been merely fucking her as he would another woman. The moment that he had realized she was Gretchen his desire had deepened, his need to please her had overridden every other desire within him. He had wanted to hold her afterward, to tell her the things he knew he could only ever tell her.
“I can’t love you,” he told her, “not like you want me to.”
She stopped moving, and he stopped as well, releasing his grip only slightly.
“Because I’m a child?” She glared at him and he shook his head.
“Jesus, Gretchen, you don’t let anything go, do you?” He pulled away from her, angry that he immediately missed her touch. She had become like a fucking drug since he had seen her at Brock’s wedding. He constantly craved just the taste of her, but with each taste the need only intensified, until he was sure it would kill him. He stared out the window, trying to regain his control. He thought he had until he turned back around and saw her again, and she was like a sledgehammer to the careful facade of self-control he had spent years perfecting. She had done just as he asked—she had come back out as Gretchen, his Gretchen. He tried not to think of the way her hair would smell if he buried his face in it or how it would feel if he entwined his fingers in the blonde curls. He didn’t want to think of how she would taste on his tongue or feel wrapped around the most sensitive part of him.
“Sit down,” he told her softly, bending his head toward the couch.
“I’m not a child for you to—”
“Sit down,” he repeated. “I assure you I don’t intend to treat you like a child.”
He saw the small tremble that shook her body before she slid to the couch.
“Tonight,” he promised her, “tonight I’ll try to be what you want, Gretch, but tomorrow…” He shook his head sadly.
She fought her tears. He knew what she was thinking. Just like him, she knew if he touched her tonight the way she wanted him to, if he loved her the way she thought he could, one night would never be enough. And like him, she wasn’t willing to forfeit that night to save herself from future pain. She nodded and he stalked toward her like a powerful tiger after his prey. He went to his knees in front of her, and Gretchen’s breath hitched once again. His hands pushed on the insides of her knees, and she shivered as they slid up her thighs, parting them as they went. His lips followed his hands, and he stopped at the apex of her thighs, breathing in the sweet smell of her before smiling up at her.
“My Gretchen,” he whispered, his voice deep with too much emotion. He lowered his head again, and took his first taste of her. His senses immediately inundated with the spicy taste of her.
“Finn,” she half squealed in shock.
“Mm hmm,” he replied, his lips tingled at the vibration and she flinched before her head fell back against the couch and her hands fisted in his dark blond hair. She held him to her as her hips moved involuntarily. He slid one finger inside her, and she gripped his hair tighter, sending waves of pleasure pain through his scalp and straight to his balls. He watched her from between her thighs as she lifted her head and met his eyes. The look there assured him that he was igniting parts of her she had never felt before. He added another finger, and she opened for him as his tongue licked and his lips sucked at her. He could feel her orgasm building in the tightening of her slick muscles around his fingers.
“Come for me,” he whispered against her, his eyes bright and commanding her as his fingers pumped and twisted. Her head fell back, and her hips jerked against his mouth as her body exploded in pleasure.
He heard his name on her lips, a silent scream as she panted, and he rose from the floor, pulling down his sweats with one hand as the other continued to pump into the wet depths of her. She tasted so sweet, as he had known she would. He could have spent hours between her thighs, relishing in the treat she held there, but now he had to be inside her. He had to love her slowly, the way that he hadn’t been prepared to do earlier. He kissed up her body, sliding his shirt that she wore up her torso as he went, licking her bellybutton and the soft curves of her hips. He slid his hands up her rib cage, and then her breasts, so plump and slightly swollen for him, the pink nipples already standing at attention, waiting on his touch. He licked the underside of her breast, kissing it gently before nipping it with his teeth. She jerked, and he smiled against the side of the lush mound. He pushed his shirt farther over her head and left it, her arms still in the sleeves above her head. She struggled against the restraint as he took her nipple into his mouth, rolling his tongue over the sensitive bud as her body lifted, forcing more of it into his mouth, and she moaned his name. Every cell of his body was demanding that he take her now, that he slide between her thighs and take what he knew she wanted to give him. But he had promised that tonight he could be different, and God, just once he wanted that. He wanted to make love to her, to please her and hold her. As experienced as he was with women, he had never made love to one, and if only for tonight, he was determined to do just that. He watched her eyes, watched the need building in the emeralds sparkling there.
“Finn,” she gasped, her hips rising and rubbing her core against the rigid plane of his abdomen. She slid so easily against him, her body already so ready for him. “Please,” she whimpered, struggling to pull her arms free so that she could force him to her. He smiled and moved to her other nipple, letting his rough hands slide over her body.
“Finn,” she cried again, her voice gaining strength as she worked to free herself. He chuckled against her nipple as he watched the fire dancing in her eyes, and her hips bucked against him again.
“Dammit, Finn,” she started but his mouth was on hers now and she quieted, taking his tongue into her mouth and tasting herself as he used his hands to pull the shirt from her arms.
“You’re so sexy, Gretchen,” he whispered against her lips as he moved between her thighs, stopping just at the entrance to her center.
“Please,” she whispered. “Finn, I need you, please.” His resolve was no match for her sweet pleading, and he began pushing into her tight center.
“Jesus, Gretchen,” he bit out as she gripped him, and he worked himself farther into her. “You’re so tight, so…” He couldn’t speak as she lifted her hips and forced the rest of him inside her. Her body arched beneath him, and he moved slowly over her. He had never felt anything as good as being inside Gretchen, feeling her snug pussy around him, squeezing him, her hips rising, urging him deeper within her. If he thought being with her earlier had been good, then there weren’t words to describe the way it felt now looking down into her emerald eyes and seeing her for who and what she really was. A woman, a woman with needs and wants, a woman who needed him and wanted him, and a woman who, if he wasn’t mistaken, may even love him. His hand fisted in her blonde curls, and he pulled her mouth to his, taking it as he was taking her body. She moaned against him, pushing her glorious breasts against his chest, the feel of her nipples against him causing his hips to jerk harder and faster into her.
“Finn,” she screamed, breaking away and throwing her head back, her blunt nails digging into his hips as he felt her orgasm starting to build around him. He slid his hand up her thigh, lifting her leg and wrapping it around his waist as he gripped her hip and drove her over the edge. He felt her tightening around him, as she screamed his name, her head thrown back, and her body squeezing him uncontrollably. He tried to wait, tried to hold on to the pleasure that they were both feeling, but before he knew it he was falling over the other side with her.
Gretchen moaned as Finn lifted himself from her body, rolling to the couch beside her and pulling her with him so that she could rest against his chest. She smiled against his chest and placed a chaste kiss on his nipple. He laughed and kissed the top of her head, lying back.
“You’re going to kill me, Gretchen,” he told her. “I’m too damn old for this.”
He liked the sound of her giggle as she ran her hands over his body.
“You appear to be in pristine condition to me, Mr. James, but we could play like you’re old if you want.”
He looked down just in time to see her wiggle her eyebrows. He laughed. She was right, he wasn’t old, but he was six years older than her and a world away. She should be running around with boys barely out of college, boys with no baggage, no demons.
“Can I tell you a secret?” she asked, her fingers drawing lazy circles over his torso.
“Um hmm,” he managed, her fingers and sweet voice lulling him into a peacefulness he didn’t recall ever feeling.
“I have imagined doing that since I was sixteen.” He could feel her lips curve against his chest.
“Well, I’ll only admit to imagining it since you were eighteen.” He chuckled without opening his eyes, warmed by the sound of her laughter as he drifted to sleep.
* * * * *
The mattress dipped as Gretchen moved to the side, placing her feet on the floor. Finn opened his eyes to see her sitting on the side of his bed, slipping on one of his shirts before standing and making her way to the bathroom across the room. He rolled to his back and looked up at the ceiling. The bed already felt cold without her in it, and he worried he had made a terrible mistake asking her to stay the night with him. Only a small number of women had ever been to his apartment, and none of them in his bed. He knew though that it would never feel empty because one of them left, not the way that it did now without Gretchen. The thought of her had him smiling. He had always liked Gretchen. She had always seemed much older and wiser than her years, and she had been fiercely independent even as a child. Which was why he couldn’t understand why she would be dancing in Carlisle’s club. Gretchen didn’t need money, and with her body and her brain, she could afford to be picky about her partners. He knew there was something else going on, but he’d be damned if he could figure it out.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and made his way to the bathroom, knocking then pushing open the door.
Gretchen turned as he entered. He noticed that she had had her hands braced on the countertop and her head had been lowered.
“Everything okay?” He came to a stop beside her but didn’t touch her.
She bit the inside of her lip as she dared to look up into his face, her gaze landing on his gray eyes.
“Yeah.” Her smile was forced. “I’m great.”
His eyes narrowed fractionally, and he stepped closer. Her hand went up between them, pressing against his chest.
“There are some things I need to tell you,” she whispered.
He brushed her blonde hair away from her face.
“Not right now.” He bent to kiss her lips lightly before tangling his hands in the mass of curls and deepening the kiss. God knew there were things they should talk about, but he didn’t want to do that now, not when he had no way of knowing how long he could keep her here with him, separate from reality.
A whimper escaped her throat as he pulled her forward and lifted her, sitting her on the counter. She flinched, giggling as her bare ass came into contact with the cold granite, and he laughed against her mouth. He kissed down her neck, following the opening of the shirt she wore, loosening the buttons as he worked his way down her chest to her belly button.
“Let’s take a shower,” he suggested as he began kissing back up her now naked body.
“Are you going to go to another room again?” she asked him, a small amount of the hurt from the night before creeping into her question.
He knew she had been offended when he sent her to shower then disappeared down the hall instead of joining her. He didn’t know how to articulate that he had needed time to get his shit together before facing her. He had known his words and actions at the club had hurt her, but he couldn’t truly explain why he had said the things he had, because that would mean admitting to her things he wasn’t ready to admit even to himself. He knew it was unlikely that she could understand what she had meant to him over the years. Finn rose and looked into her green eyes.
“Only if you would prefer the other one.” He lifted her against him so that she wrapped her legs around him and carried her to the shower, only letting her down when they were under the spray of the water.
He turned her, pulling her back against his chest. His cock hardened against the seam of her ass as he slid against her, reaching for the soap.
“I can wash myself,” she teased.
He ran his soapy hands over her soft curves.
“I’m sure you can do a lot of things yourself, baby,” he whispered at her ear before taking it between his sharp teeth, “but doesn’t it feel better when I do it for you?”
Gretchen’s breath caught as his hand dipped between her thighs, his fingers sliding over the sensitive bud of her clit. Her already hard nipples tightened, and her hips arched against him in a silent plea for him to enter her now wet pussy. She reached up, wrapping an arm around his neck and bringing his face to hers as she twisted to kiss him. His tongue swept into her mouth before he pulled away, biting playfully at her swollen lips.
“Finn,” she breathed harshly as he slid one finger inside her, curving it against the bundle of nerves deep within her. “Oh God,” she cried, letting her head fall against his chest.
“That’s it, baby,” he crooned at her ear as he continued to fuck her with his fingers, before bending her slightly at the waist. She reached out, bracing her hands on the wall of the shower before his dick slid between her thighs, nudging the opening of her aching pussy.
She pressed her ass back against his hips and his hard member began pushing into her, stretching the muscles of her cunt as it forced its way through her tight opening.
His breath quickened. He pulled back and reentered, using her pussy’s own juices as lubrication.
A part of him felt guilty standing in the shower fucking her as she was bent over, facing away from him so that he couldn’t see her beautiful face, but as her pussy clung tightly to his dick, he found himself unable to feel anything but the intense pleasure that she had managed to give him the mere fourteen or so hours since he had first touched her. Though he was buried deep within her, he suddenly missed the feel of her against him, and he pulled her up, pressing her back against him once again.
“You feel so good,” she panted as he drove into her. “God Finn, it feels…”
She reached back, and her blunt nails dug into the cheek of his ass as her pussy began spasming around his dick.
“Yeah, baby,” he whispered to her, driving harder into her with his hands firmly on her breasts.
She paused for a moment, catching her breath, and he could still feel her muscles clenching him before she began to move again, driving her hips back against him and drawing him farther into a pussy impossibly wetter and tighter than he had ever felt. She bent forward again, using the wall to push herself back onto his dick, until he couldn’t control himself anymore, and he came inside her.
He stood for a moment trying to still the shaking in his thighs, before he leaned forward and kissed her shoulder. His chest suddenly seemed too tight, and he pulled away, trying to catch his breath. He pulled slowly from her body, and she turned toward him. Her green eyes were shining; her smile was just a little mischievous, and he remembered how she had been the only person in his whole life who had ever brought him peace, the one person who had fought for him and loved him freely. He had forgotten that over the years since Gretchen had begun to grow into a woman, and he had never wondered what would happen when she finally reached adulthood. He knew now though, that he had just done the one thing he’d been sure he’d never do—fell in love.
* * * * *
Gretchen sat on the side of the bed in her towel, waiting for Finn to come out of the bathroom. She knew she had to tell him why she had been at the club the night before, it was the only chance she had of saving her case. There was no way he would let her back in if he thought she was only a dancer who didn’t mind sleeping her way through the club.
She thought back to the way he had talked to her in front of everyone before they left, and she felt the hurt and confusion all over again. If she hadn’t known better, from the way that he held her and touched her in his apartment, she could have been led to believe that Finn cared for her, but then she remembered all of the things he had said that reminded her that that wasn’t true.
She looked up when he stepped into the room, his towel slung low over his narrow hips. Her eyes followed a drop of water as it ran over the hard muscles of his chest and down the ridge of his abs before disappearing in the light trail of hair behind his towel. She was almost certain after he heard what she had to say, he wouldn’t allow her the privilege of ogling him again.
“You thinking about those things you need to tell me?” he asked her as he came into the room and made his way to his dresser.
She nodded and turned so that she faced him. “Do you go to the club often?”
“You mean do I sleep with girls at the club often?” He turned so that he could watch her face.
“No.” She shook her head. “I mean do you go there often? Should I expect to see you there again?”
He slammed the opened drawer of his dresser, causing it to shake. A small red pebble fell to the hardwoods and slid under the edge of the bed.
“You should never expect to see me there,” he informed her, barely biting back his fury. “Because you will never be there again.”
“Yes I will,” she replied quietly. “I’ll be there at six o’clock tonight. Mr. Carlisle is entertaining again.”
Finn let out a harsh laugh, though he obviously found nothing humorous.
“I thought I made it clear last night that you were done there, Gretchen. I told you—”
“You told me,” she pushed forward, her quiet voice managing to override his anger, “you were going to train me in the art of whoring. I suppose I should thank you for your choice of hole.” Her voice cracked before she could finish, and she dropped her head, staring into her lap.
Finn came to her, going to his knees at the side of the bed in front of her.
“Do you really think I’m a whore?” she asked, meeting his eyes. “Is that why—”
“God no, Gretchen.” He took her arms in his hands. “I know you’re not a whore, but I can’t for the life of me figure out what the hell you’re doing at that club.”
Gretchen took a deep breath and held his gaze.
“Can I trust you?” she asked him quietly. She watched his darkening eyes, knowing he was fighting to hold on to the last bit of restraint he was managing to force on himself.
“With your life, Gretchen,” he vowed. “There is nothing that I wouldn’t do for you.”
Except love me, she thought bitterly. Instead she forced herself to meet his eyes and her lips turned up slightly.
“Good,” she replied, “because that’s what I’m doing by telling you this.”
“I don’t understand.” He shook his head.
“I do have a job to do at the club,” she confided, “but it’s not dancing or hooking. I’m there to get information on Carlisle. I’m undercover.”
He jerked away as if he’d been struck then stood and moved back to the dresser.
“You’re a fucking cop?”
She let her silence serve as her answer. “Jesus, Gretchen. What the fuck?” He turned from her, running his hands through his hair roughly. “You have to stay away from there, if they find out—”
“No,” she told him. “You’re the one who has to stay away, at least for a while. Anyone who is there, anyone I get information on is fair game. I don’t want you in there when they come for them.”
She could see betrayal flashing clearly in his eyes. He ran a hand over the back of his neck and looked away, before returning his gaze to hers.
“You would do that?”
She rose from the bed and went to stand in front of him. She put her hands on his biceps, holding him in place, and tried desperately not to react to the feel of his warm skin on against her palms.
“I would never rat you out, Finn,” she whispered vehemently. “I swear to you, I would throw this whole case if it meant saving you. But I’m not the only one there. There are others, some I don’t know about. Whoever they are, I’m certain they are not looking out for you. You know how this will go down. You know they will raid that place and everyone there will go downtown until they figure out what to charge you with.”
Finn shrugged, but he didn’t answer. He shook his head instead and pulled away. Gretchen didn’t follow him, only watched from across the room.
“I knew you were nothing but trouble.” He laughed, shaking his head. “A fucking thorn in my side since you were in goddamn diapers.”
“You don’t mean that.” She walked toward him, sensing that the worst was over. “You loved me, Finnegan James. You adored me.”
She knew it was true, even if he could never love her the way she wanted him to as an adult, he had loved her once.
“You’re right,” he conceded. “Then you hit puberty…”
“You mean then I got boobs.” She slid her hands around his waist, pulling him against them now as her towel slid down to barely cover them.
“You did get those.” He looked down at them now. “But I don’t want anyone else seeing them or touching them. Understood?”
“Like ever,” she pouted, and he rolled his eyes.
“Like at the club.” He turned serious. “Those guys, Gretchen, the stuff they do to those girls. You have to find another cover, this is seriously dangerous shit you’re playing at.”
Gretchen nodded and began to pull away.
“Then help me,” she urged.
“I’m not a snitch.” He shook his head. “Especially not with these guys.”
She nodded, because she knew that, and she respected him for it.
“Just get me in,” she told him. “I won’t ask you for any information.”
She knew he wanted to tell her to fuck off, he had everything to lose by helping her, but a part of her hoped that he cared for her enough to help her see this through.
“Just pretend you don’t know,” she offered. “I swear I’ll never tell.”
“Fuck.” He finally sighed, his hand going to his long hair again. “You promise to follow me? To trust me no matter what I tell you to do?”
Gretchen hesitated for a moment. She wasn’t used to trusting anyone, and she wasn’t that great at following the lead of others; it was why she found herself so often working undercover instead of working cases with a partner.
“I know I embarrassed you last night, and I know the things I said hurt you,” he spoke up when she didn’t answer.
Gretchen snorted at the understatement, but he continued.
“I didn’t know what was going on, and I couldn’t let one of them touch you, Gretchen.”
She nodded slowly.
“I don’t sleep with any of the girls. So if I tell them that you’re mine, they’ll know I mean it.” He held up his hands as if in surrender before shrugging. “I can try to keep you safe.”
“OK,” she agreed, suddenly more afraid for her heart than her safety.