When The Rain Falls

35. Somewhere Safe

35 SOMEWHERE SAFE

AIMEE

"How was your day, Ruby?" Finn asks from across the dining table, where we are all seated around what’s left of dinner.

Ruby shrugs and pushes her last baby carrot around with a fork.

"How was the movie? What did you and Rocky see last night?” Finn has one hand propped on his hip, the other resting around a can of sparkling water. I can feel the tension in the air running between Finn and Ruby like an invisible game of tug-of-war.

"Fine," she says quickly.

"That's all I get? Fine?"

"What? You want me to give you details so you can criticize me?"

Finn rotates his can a quarter turn and takes a deep breath. Ruby and Finn are both still learning to navigate her slight increase in freedom. And I think the process is making both of them a little crazy.

“I was just asking, Ruby,” Finn sighs as he fiddles with the pull tab of the can. Ruby stares him down from across the table. There's a pattern between these two. When Finn wants to interrogate, this makes Ruby clam up. And the more Ruby clams up, the more Finn wants to interrogate. A perfect Catch-22.

“There’s never just asking with you,” Ruby mutters. The look she gives him could slice a watermelon. Finn just glares back, matching her expression, facial feature by facial feature. Sometimes, I swear they are the same person.

And then Ruby stands from the table. Her chair nearly toppling backwards as she rises. She maneuvers around the chair and storms away.

"Come back and clear your plate!" Finn calls after her.

"I will later," she shouts from down the hallway.

“Goddammit,” he mutters and tosses a crumpled paper napkin onto his plate. He rubs his temples and there’s a watery shimmer in his eyes.

I rest my hand on his back, glide my palm over the smooth muscles below his shoulder. The moment I touch him, I feel the tension in his body go slack. “Let her cool off. Then you can try again later,” I offer. I remember being her age. When my emotions were so big and so heavy that they would color the world around me. It’s hard to see good intentions and genuine concern when your mind is flooded with insecurities and you’re desperately grasping for independence.

Finn collects himself. He turns to face me. He takes my hand in his and presses a kiss to my wrist. He doesn’t say anything. But there’s a thank you on his face.

“I appreciate it,” he says softly. “Everything.” Everything. I’m not exactly sure what he means by everything . But still, I gather his praise like a bouquet of flowers. It makes me feel warm. Like a smooth stone being washed in the rays of the sun. He runs a hand down my thigh. His hand is weighty and warm. When he gives me a squeeze, I’m reminded how large his hands are and how good he is at wielding them.

"Want to sit on the back deck?” He nods to the sliding door. “The porch swing?”

"Sure,” I tell him. “That sounds nice.” Suddenly, I have to swallow around a new layer of thickness forming in my throat. This is everything I imagined a real relationship to look like. Cooking side by side and enjoying quiet moments on a porch. How is this man giving me everything I ever wanted?

Finn tells me not to worry about the dishes, that he’ll get to them later. He takes my hand and guides me out the sliding back door, but not before stopping to grab a blanket from the hallway closet. When we step outside, he gestures for me to take a seat on the swing. When I take a seat beside him, he wraps the fleece around my shoulders. I rest my head against him and we both stare up the trunk of the large fir trees in his backyard, the tips of the trees disappearing far above us. The sun sets low through the thick boughs of the trees, casting light against the side of the house in diffused, orange glows against the dark grey siding.

"I don’t sit out here enough,” Finn says. He pushes off the deck with his feet and we sway gently forward. I nestle up against him and he moves his arm to make room for me next to his heart.

“So,” I prod. “What was up with earlier? Why were you so mad?” Finn doesn’t answer. He just keeps caressing his fingers against my waist.

"Bear," I prod.

He’s quiet for a moment and then he finally answers. "There was a bar complaint against me," he starts. “It was a bit ago. I thought it would be no big deal. Hoped it would go away. But it didn’t." He pauses before continuing. "On the way home, my lawyer called. They're offering a deal. A stipulation."

"Ok,” I say tentatively. “Is that good?"

"If I agree that I violated rules, they're going to give me a light sanction. Or punishment. Whatever you want to call it.”

“What kind of punishment?" I look at him again, but he keeps his gaze fixed low on his lap or his feet. It's hard to tell which. His face is expressionless.

"A sixty day suspension." He turns his hand over and picks at his palm. "And anger management."

“That's not so bad."

"It's fucking ridiculous,” he mutters, running a hand along his thigh.

"You don't think you need anger management?"

He sighs before taking my hand in his. His thumb brushes across my knuckles and then traces the veins on the back of my hand.

"I never imagined that it would be worth it,” he confesses. “To work on myself. Until now. Until you.” I look down at our hands. Where he’s caressing me. And my heart skips at his words. At the thought that I’m worth something to him.

I can’t help but notice that even though the mood is gloomy, there's a brightness on his face that didn't used to be there. Like after days of darkness, the sun is promising to finally rise again.

“Twenty-seven, huh?” he breaks the silence. His heartbeat thumbs soothingly in my ear, his legs brush against mine as they rock us.

I curl my arm around his. “Does it matter?”

“Only that maybe you should stop calling me Daddy now.” I think he’s joking, but I can’t exactly be sure.

“Make me,” I tease him, clearly acting all twenty-seven years of my age. Finn blows out a quick, warm laugh into my hair.

“That’s how old I was when Ruby was born,” he says, almost wistfully, like he’s reaching for a memory. “Sorry, I should probably keep my trips down memory lane solo-ventures,” he adds quickly.

“No,” I correct him. “It’s ok. That’s all part of you.” I look up at him and from my spot nestled up under his arm, I can see his thick neck, strong jaw, and long eyelashes. “It’s hard to imagine, though,” I add. “That at my age, you had a career, and a marriage, and a child. Probably a mortgage.” I look away from him now, trying to hide the edge of sadness threatening to push in. “And a favorite spatula,” I give a hollow laugh.

“Aimee.” His voice is soft. “That’s your fake laugh. I don’t like your fake laugh,” he continues. “What is it, darling? What’s going on in that pretty little head?” How does he see through me every time? Through my attempt to always brush the heaviness away?

“I just feel like I’m so far behind.” I absentmindedly slip my hand under his shirt and trace squiggles along his skin. “It’s like years of partying have set me back. I should have been living. Like, really living. And not just doing keg stands and trying to see how many free drinks I could get. At my age, you had so much compared to me.”

“You might not have what I had. But you have other things.”

“ Sure I do,” I humor him. The thickness in my throat squeezes my voice into a whisper.

“Speaking of laughs,” Finn offers, “yours is the most obnoxious one I’ve ever heard. But don’t worry, I kinda love it. I didn’t know a human could make so many animal sounds.” I can hear the smile in his voice. And that invisible smile makes me feel a little bit warmer. “Let’s see. You have sass. You have curiosity. You told me yourself it was your best feature. You have kindness. Gentleness.”

“I am neither kind nor gentle,” I snort with a laugh.

“You are with me,” he says solemnly. “And you don’t take yourself too seriously.” I snort again because Alicia would probably say that’s the source of all my problems. “And you see things other people can’t.”

“Like what?”

“Like whatever the fuck it is that you see in me.” I feel his fingers caress the curve of my waist. The swing continues to sway gently beneath us. The orange light on the house turns a chilly blue as darkness sets in. And pressed against Finn and his warm body, with his sweet words still in my ear, I feel shielded from it.

“I don’t see anything that isn’t there,” I assure him.

“And,” he adds. “Maybe you also have…something else.”

“What?” My eyes search his face.

Finn plants two feet on the ground and stops the gentle swaying of the swing. “I'll be right back.” He pulls away from me and wraps his end of the blanket around my shoulder. He disappears into the sliding door only to reappear half a minute later, a stack of papers in his hand.

He sits down next to me, leaning into the back of the swing and slinking comfortably against me. “For you,” he says, as he hands me the stack of papers. I take them and flip through the pages quickly. There are several pages of small block text.

"Is this a sex contract?" I ask suspiciously.

Finn's entire body begins to rock from the inside out as a warm chuckle passes over his body. And I will never get used to the way that sound fills me up.

"No," he finally hisses out of a wide grin. “They’re articles of incorporation," he explains as he flips back to the first page. He weaves his arm behind my neck again and his thumb flicks across my shoulder.

"Ok…" I say, trying to summon gratitude that I don’t feel. I have no idea what any of this means.

"For your own company." My eyebrows wrinkle together as I find his face. His eyes catch a beam of light from the kitchen window. It softens his grey irises, painting them the color of the sky during a light drizzle.

"There are still some blanks. I'll walk you through it all to get your input before we finalize everything. Assuming you'd want to do it."

"Want to do what? What company? I don’t understand.”

"Go out on your own. You mentioned it was intimidating and overwhelming. It’s not really that hard. I'll help you. I'd recommend an LLC to start. You can freelance and be your own boss. I can introduce you to my accountant if you'd like. Whatever you need."

I don’t answer right away. I can’t. My brain is not capable of forming an intelligent response. It’s too busy swirling with the overwhelming realization that he thinks I can do something as important as run my own business.

"So? What do you think?" He raises my hand and presses his lips to my knuckles. The contact feels like it could send my heart floating into the atmosphere.

"I think…This is…Thank you," I choke out. Because now I’m able to focus on the gift itself. My own company? Could I really do it? Could I actually pull my shit together enough to follow through on something? I fight back the prickle of emotion teasing my eyes.

“Aimee?”

“Hmmmm?” I ask, staring dumbly at the papers in my hand. Papers that have my name listed as the sole member of an unnamed company. My name.

“Babe?” He tips my chin to his face and pulls my face closer. I can see the swirl of grey in his eyes and the faint stubble across his jaw. I give him a watery smile.

“Get on my lap and thank me properly,” he whispers.

“Yes, Daddy ,” I whisper right before I press my mouth to his. I set the paperwork down and ease myself onto his lap, facing him. He’s already hard, straining against his joggers.

I pull the blanket over my shoulders and drape it around us. We’re nestled in a cocoon of body heat and hunger as Finn sways the swing gently beneath us. Finn’s hands slide into the back of my jeans and he cups my cheeks in his rough palms.

“Are you wearing panties?” he asks, his hands sliding along my waist, searching for a band.

“Why, so you can just tear them off?” I tease. “Do you know how much a nice thong costs?”

His face falls into a naughty grin as he raises an eyebrow. “I’d be more than happy to buy you panties, baby, so long as you let me tear them off you.” He kisses the base of my neck at the shoulder, pulling me deeper into him. His mouth travels up the side of my neck, causing my body to break out into hot, shameless tingles. He gets to my ear and lands a gentle bite on my earlobe. His kisses wreak havoc to the space between my thighs where I’m growing heated and wet.

I lock eyes with him as I ease off his lap and stand up. He watches, spellbound, as I unzip my pants and slide them down my legs before stepping out of them. His mouth all but falls open as I slide my shirt off. I unclasp my bra and drop it ceremoniously to the floor. And I’m completely bare. Cloaked in the cool night air. A breeze flirting across every inch of my skin. Finn’s attention is suspended on my body. And it’s absolutely freeing.

Suddenly, Finn snaps out of it. “Aimee, fuck.” Finn looks behind me to check the windows into the house. “Goddammit, you can’t just strip down naked in my backyard. Are you insane?” He wraps the blanket around me and holds it in place.

“Yes,” I tell him. “I’m insane, bear. I’m insane for you.” I settle back down on his lap as Finn keeps the blanket wrapped tightly around me. I grip the edges and bring him into the blanket with me. And then it’s my bare skin against his soft joggers, which are tenting hard beneath me. My nipples teasing his face. And my hands sliding under his shirt and up the delicious, muscular curves of his chest.

I bring my head to his and whisper in his ear, “I want you, bear.” I keep my voice low so that it doesn’t travel past our faces. “Right now. Like this.” The swing keeps swaying softly as Finn’s hands find the curve of my waist and the curve of one breast at the same time. He flicks a thumb across my nipple.

“Aimee…” The hand travels from my waist to my thigh and I feel his fingers dig in. “I need more time.”

“You don’t need more time. You just need to stop thinking. It’s just like the other morning. I promise, you’re safe.” I know it’s all just in his head. And I think I know how to help him. I need to fill his head with something else. “Turn off the worries,” I whisper. “Just be here with me.” I guide myself onto him, where he’s rock-hard and even thicker than I remember. His desire is unmistakable. Heady, potent, intoxicating. I free him from the layers that separate us. I grip the head of his cock and slowly roll my wrist down the length of him, his extra flesh sliding down with my hands.

I’m filled with longing to take him in. All the way. My pussy aches for him. I feel myself growing hot and wet. As I stroke him, I imagine what it would feel like to ride him. To be filled with him. When his breathing quickens, his eyes fall closed, and his head tips back, I guide him to my entrance. That’s when he jolts back to attention and we lock eyes. There’s a hint of fear there. In his eyes. As his pupils shrink and his brow furrows.

“It’s ok,” I soothe him. But when the fear doesn’t leave his face, I release my grip and use the weight of my body to rock over his cock. I try to satisfy my desire by grinding against him. But it only makes me want more. His hands find my ass, his fingertips dig in, and he grips me like he’s hanging from a twenty-story building.

I want to brush away the fear. To make him feel safe. To guide him out of the darkness in his head. To give him what he’s given me, the sweet and simple feeling of being cherished.

Is this what they mean by love?

“Don’t think about it,” I tell him. “If you need to think, think about my lips,” I suggest. “What do they feel like?” I take his mouth into mine, exploring the crease of his lips with my tongue, and when I pull back, I run my teeth across his skin. I feel his cock jolt beneath me.

“Warm,” he says. “Tender.” His hands are running up my back and they slide past my waist, finding their way to my shoulders. Greedy fingers grasp at the ends of my hair as he presses me forward and steals another kiss. I clutch his shirt in my hands and hold on for dear life. Because this kiss is powerful. Full of pent-up desire and need. I bring my hips down lower. His tip is at my entrance and I’m aching for him to fill me. But not yet.

I tug his shirt up and he helps me pull it off. I take in his muscular chest. He’s broad and thick. And his body is real. Strong. Sculpted from life. I brush my hands across the light smattering of hair across his front, admiring the grey that’s blended in with the dark brown. “What do my hands feel like?” I ask, running my palms up his torso, over every contour of him, until I’m cupping his pecs and flicking his hardened nipples.

“Darling.” His breathing is relaxed and easy now. His grip, less desperate. “When you touch me, it feels like a promise and a confession in one.” That response makes my insides go dizzy. Because he’s right. My touch carries a promise. A promise to hold all his broken pieces together. It also speaks the deepest confession of my heart right now. I want him. I want him to be the first permanent thing in my life. Him. The only person who believes I can be more than I am.

“I do promise,” I whisper, brushing my lips against his. “I told you before. I’m not leaving.”

I slide my hand back down his abdomen, down the trail of hair that leads me back to where he’s hard and thick. I take him back into my hand and stroke him softly, admiring how he fills my palm. “Think about this,” I tell him as he groans into the back of his throat. “Think about how my hands feel on your cock.” I whisper.

His only response is a sharpening of breath.

“Kiss me,” I urge. As his lips tangle with mine, hungry and distracted, I settle myself over him again. I find his tip with my entrance and slowly bring him into me.

He grabs the back of my neck and presses our foreheads together. His eyes pin on mine and the way he locks my gaze tells me that I’m the only thing he sees. The muscles around his lids relax. A swallow bobs his throat. And all I can hear is his heavy breathing.

“See? There’s just us,” I whimper. “There’s just now.” My body clenches tightly as I slide farther and farther. His cock spreads me apart as he fills me.

“How do I feel now, bear?” I gasp out. And I can barely hear his response because my consciousness is growing dizzy with pleasure.

“Goddamn. You feel like mine, darling,” he grunts out.

With one final jolt, I take him all the way. To his base. And his deep groans mingle with my sharp gasping. And then I can’t speak anymore. The feel of his length and his thickness buried deep inside me shocks me with pleasure so strong that I can’t form words or thoughts. With each bounce, the force of him driving into me presses out moan after moan, each one hungrier and needier than the last.

And then a flip switches. Something launches Finn into a fiery throng of desperation. He moves beneath me. His hips pulsing forward, powerful and strong. His thick thighs slap the bottom of my ass as he holds me in place by my waist. Without any warning, his body takes over. He leans forward and I ring my arms around his neck so that I don’t topple backward. He stands, me still impaled on him. And that’s when I realize that his muscles aren’t just for show. He hefts me up and flips me on my back against the seat of the swing, cradling my head in the process.

He hunches his body over me, flicking my breasts, teasing my nipples. Groaning, as he rocks over my body like a hot, crushing wave. I grip his glutes, feeling them contract and tense with each thrust. I realize I’m shaking. From the rapture. The bliss of his body taking me, wanting me, hungry for me. Finally, for once, he’s not holding anything back. He’s giving me everything. And I love it.

“Yes,” I cry, the word fluttering in my throat as he pounds and pumps into me.

His fingers find my tender spot and he begins to flick, and rub, and tend to me, swollen and needy. I arch my back and moan into the air.

“I need you to come, Aimee,” he demands. “Because I’m not going to last.” His face pinches in pained concentration and I know he’s wrestling with self-control. “Tell me how to make you come like this. Because, fuck, I don’t have time to figure it out on my own.”

“Bear, talk dirty to me,” I urge. Hearing men tell me how much they want my body has always thrilled me in the past. As their desire becomes words to fill my head.

“No, baby,” he coos, rubbing me with the perfect amount of pressure as he pushes inside me again and again. “I want to tell you I adore you. I’m putting you so damn high on a pedestal, I’m afraid I’m going to set you out of my reach. And I can’t bear the thought of you not being in my reach. I don’t deserve you, Aimee. But you’re mine, darling.”

His words surprise me. Unsteady me. Tip me over. Until I’m face down in a sea of euphoria. I’m drowning in it now. And the only thing to breathe is him. The faint dewy scent of his sweat, his exertion, his skin.

He’s right behind me. I feel him tense inside me, as his abs clench and his head lowers. A feral groan rumbles free from his throat and then he’s panting. Sliding down on top of me, spent and satisfied. I wrap my legs around him and bring his mouth into mine.

After we’ve both come out of our pleasure, he wraps the blanket around us both and takes us in. He looks a bit dazed, a bit surprised, and completely disoriented. He rubs a hand across his face and lets out the loudest, wildest laugh I’ve ever heard come out of a man’s mouth.