We’re in the jetted two-person tub in the enchanting penthouse suite when Finn finally asks me the obvious question on his mind…
He was mostly silent on the walk over here. He was distracted in his thoughts as he retrieved our keys from the concierge and took the elevators to the top floor. He only smiled at my shocked expression when I walked into the room and saw it decorated as if it were our honeymoon suite.
With rose petals everywhere, it looked picturesque. The scent of sweet amber and vanilla filled the air. And the view…
From the balcony, it’s a bird’s eye view of the lit-up, dancing fountains. We’re on top of the world tonight. But Finn’s mood is deflated.
When we first arrived, after unbuttoning his dress shirt, he immediately filled the tub, even going as far as throwing a handful of loose petals on top of the water. He stripped me down, careful not to rip my dress. He took his time peeling off my lace thong and matching strapless bra before he ushered me into the tub, assuring me this was only part one of his apology. Stripping down naked, he joined me, but made sure to take his seat across from me, keeping the distance between us.
“How much of that conversation did you hear?” he asks, his eye fixed on the water line.
“What conversation?” I play dumb. I’m already uncomfortable. Finn’s guilt for something he didn’t do or say makes it ten times worse. I want to comfort him, but I’m still licking my own wounds.
“Avery,” he grunts out.
“From the moment your dad informed you that you can pull a much hotter girl than me.” My laugh is harsh and bitter. “He’s not wrong.” I try to wink playfully, but Finn is not remotely amused.
“He’s an ass—”
“Finn, it’s fine. If I was upset, it was because of something that happened in the bathroom.” It’s a half-truth. Emma’s antics hurt my feelings. Mr. Harvey’s words obliterated them. It’s one thing for a jealous woman to be cruel when she desperately wants what you have, but Finn’s dad’s disapproval… Especially over the way I look? I don’t know how to process that…
“What happened in the bathroom?” He cocks one eyebrow.
I lean back, letting my head rest on the ledge of the deep tub. “One of the waitresses wanted your number. I overheard. Apparently, she does butt stuff.”
Finn tries to control his smile but fails. A snort breaks free from his lips. “I’m sorry. I think I momentarily blacked out when you said butt stuff. Where did we land on that subject, by the way?”
“Oh yeah, let’s go for it.”
His eyes perk up, not understanding my sarcasm. “Really?”
“No. Are you crazy? That’d be like shoving an ear of ripe summer corn into a cocktail straw. You’d have two fake girlfriends to bury when you literally split me in half, Finn.”
“Fake?” He pokes my shin with his toe under the water.
“Wasn’t all that for show?” I ask but can’t hide my hopeful tone. “I’m not sure if our situation would make sense to anyone else. I suppose it’s easier to say ‘girlfriend.’”
He licks his lips and stares at me with a gaze so seductive I swear the water surrounding us grows hotter. “Maybe I was testing the waters. Maybe I called you my girlfriend all night because I wanted to see how the words tasted.” He blows out a long breath, leaving my nerves on the very edge of their seat. “It’s been on my mind…has it been on yours?”
“Well, yeah. Of course,” I say honestly. “It’s natural. We spend a lot of time together. We’re sleeping together but…”
“But what?”
“There’s just the small matter that I don’t actually live here.”
“But your job is remote, right?”
I nod slowly as I run my hand across the top of the water. “True. But it’d be sort of crazy to move your entire life based on the feelings you have for a few weeks.” I squint one eye. “Right?”
Finn shrugs. “It’d be sort of crazy to move back to a life you hate if you have other options.”
I pinch my fingers together under the water, trying to control the nerves. It’s not the worst thing in the world to know that Finn might have real feelings for me. Would it be so crazy to tell him that I have real feelings for him too?
I mean…is it too soon?
My relationship with Mason was over long before I realized it was. I’m single. This is no crime. Life happens when it happens and I’d be stupid to refuse a gift from the universe like Finn. But there’s just one thing that has me worried and it’s not the geographic distance between us.
“Do women always hit on you so openly and aggressively?”
Finn blinks at me, his lips flattening into a firm line. Clearly, he wasn’t expecting that question. “Uh, honestly…I’m used to getting attention. But I wasn’t looking at anyone tonight besides you—”
“No, no, of course not. Finn, we’re fine. I wasn’t accusing you of anything.” There’s nothing to accuse him of. We’re not together. “I’m just curious. Do you like the attention or does it get exhausting?”
He juts his chin toward me. “You tell me.”
I snort in response. “If and when I get endless waves of beautiful men throwing themselves at my feet, I’ll let you know if the attention becomes tiresome.”
Finn chuckles, but it falls flat and I’m slightly worried I hurt his feelings. Was I supposed to offer to move to be with him? I just… How? We’re not ready. I’m not ready. Plus, I feel like I’d need a full suit of body armor to survive the attacks I’d get for dating Finn. There’s nothing more vicious than a confident woman with her eyes fixed on a prize.
Finn finally breaks the lull by saying, “I like the attention from you. Sexy is great, but I also need genuine. You’re the first woman I’ve met who seems to be both.” He licks his lips and bends his fingers, beckoning me closer. “Come here.”
I show him my slyest smile as I slowly lean forward, eventually crawling onto his lap. I’m relieved to be on top of him. I was worried his sex strike was legitimate. “I knew you’d cave.” Both of our bodies jostle as he chuckles. “I like the attention from you too, Finn. I’ve been ignored for a really long time, and it feels so good to be seen. Thank you.”
My lips find him urgently. I suck in his bottom lip and run my fingers through his hair as I try to inch forward on his lap, just the idea of his erection kicking up the tingling sensation between my thighs. But Finn, his lips still intertwined with mine, grabs my hips and holds me in place.
“Slow down,” he murmurs into my mouth.
I try to wiggle forward again, but he holds me firmly in place at least two inches away from his dick. “What’s wrong?” I ask. “Are you still upset about your dad?”
“Yes,” he says, “but that’s not why we’re not going to have sex. I thought I told you earlier.”
I flatten an irritated stare at him, but he isn’t dissuaded. He brushes my hair away from my shoulders and presses his lips against my collarbone. “I’ll compromise. Kisses are fine.” His breath feels cool against my damp skin.
“Seriously? You’re going to reject me when I’m wet, naked, and on top of you? Is that a smart move?” The edge in my voice isn’t from anger, it’s from agitation because all I can think about is sliding on top of him and riding until I’m thoroughly sated.
His stupid huffs of laughter at my nonintimidating threat only irritate me further. “I’m not rejecting you. I’m showing you I’m a man of my word. But you’re in control of this, baby. Promise me you’ll get in the studio…” He wraps his hand around my neck and guides my ear to his lips. His voice becomes low and grumbly. “Promise me, and I’ll fuck you so hard right now you won’t know what you’re swimming in, this tub or your cum. You know I can hit that spot that makes you explode.”
Damn, I love his dirty mouth. I’m weak when he talks to me like that. He warned me he’d play dirty. And it almost works as the aching urge between my thighs almost answers for me. Yes. Whatever you want. I’m tempted until the shrill cackle of a woman’s laughter pops the fantasy bubble in my mind.
Who? Ms. Piggy?
That’s adorable.
I didn’t mean to interrupt you and your ‘friend.’
The mean girl chatter is all I hear before I wiggle off of Finn’s lap and back to my side of the tub. “Fine. We won’t have sex.”
“All right,” he says, “no worries.” He stands in place, the water plunging off his body as he rises from the tub. Finn’s gargantuan dick is fully erect and right in line with my eyes. He makes a meal out of raising his arms above his head to stretch as if flexing his taut six-pack is simply natural. He reaches for a towel as he steps out of the tub. Leaning down, he plants a kiss on my cheek. “Just let me get dressed. We can”—he smirks—“talk…or whatever else you want to do tonight.”
Just take some damn pictures, Avery. It’s not that fucking hard.
But it’s always been my kryptonite. I’ve been camera-shy since the day I hit puberty and I started hating what I saw in pictures. Junior high is when I really noticed the stark difference between Palmer and me. My mom took a picture of us on the bus with our matching puffy paint T-shirts we made for the first day of school that read “Grown Girls,” because everyone knows at twelve years old, you’re totally equipped and ready to take on the world.
I was so excited for Mom to get that picture developed. But the day she brought it home, my whole world changed. I ignored our big smiles and the bright pink T-shirts we spent hours making for the first day of school. All I could see was how much thicker my arms and thighs were than Palmer’s. My chin was soft, and my cheeks were far fuller. I spent every waking minute with Palmer. She ate way more than I did. I actually enjoyed carrot sticks and cucumbers with ranch dip. Palmer’s version of healthy was baked Lays, fruit-flavored gummy bears, and Diet Coke. Yet we were growing so differently, and I seemingly had no control over it.
I noticed we were different. And I haven’t been able to stop noticing since that day.
Getting dressed became my main sense of contention through junior high, and then high school. Curvy wasn’t always cool. Rail thin was all the rage when I was at my most vulnerable in adolescence. Clothing stores like Abercrombie & Fitch and American Eagle made all their cutest clothes in size double-zero. So I learned to shop elsewhere. I learned to enjoy the beauty of comfort. I wasn’t about to play a game I knew I couldn’t win. I played to my strengths. I was smart and a hard worker and kept my head down in the arena of dating outside of a few awkward dalliances, until one day…
I met Mason.
He had a clear choice in the bar that day. The wild child beauty, Palmer. Or me.
And for the first time in my life, a man chose to pursue me. And not by default. Palmer was flirting pretty heavily that night. Mason didn’t seem to notice. He kept his eyes on me.
I thought I’d made it through my awkward, uncomfortable, camera-shy phase unscathed until at age thirty I was catapulted right back into the shaky, fragile waters of insecurity and singlehood.
And here’s what Finn can’t get through his sexy, beautiful, thick skull: what if he sees me in a picture and notices too? The bus picture was almost twenty years ago, but that pudgy pre-teen is still ingrained in my brain. What if Finn notices how mismatched we are? Everyone else seems to. Once he sees it…
He’ll never be able to unsee it.
The spell will be broken and I’ll lose him before the summer is over.
Finn stands in front of me, the waistband of his briefs hugging his hips tightly. He holds out a fluffy white hotel towel and I reluctantly drag myself out of the tub. It’s so cozy I could sleep in here. But Finn pats my body dry and drapes an oversized satin robe over me that feels cool and silky against my skin.
The only flaw to Finn’s grand romantic gesture with this room is that I have no change of clothes. There are complimentary toiletries—makeup wipes and a disposable toothbrush, but I’m forced to put back on my thong and uncomfortable strapless bra from earlier this evening. Finn probably wasn’t worried about it, assuming we’d be naked all night. When I’m situated, I join him on the private balcony, the gust of warm Vegas air filling my lungs.
“Do you like champagne?” he asks, right before a loud pop makes my heart jump. “Whoops.” We watch the heavy cork fly over the balcony rail and fall endless stories down. Both of us look concerned until a solid minute passes by and there’s no slew of cuss words from the pedestrians below.
“Not really,” I finally answer. “I drink it for toasts, mostly. I prefer beer or fun cocktails. Anything with flavor.”
“I get that.” But he pours two glasses anyway.
I settle into a cushioned patio chair next to him before he hands me the skinny glass flute. For a moment, we’re silent as I watch the Las Vegas Strip beneath us send me straight into sensory overload. The faint smell of smoke and a variety of different restaurants is still potent, even up this high. The bustle of foot traffic and punctuated shrieks and giggles are loud from below. The neon lights cast a hue on the dark sky above us, making me think there’s a different measurement of time out here. There’s day and night, dawn and dusk…and then there’s Vegas. The sinful, sleepless city full of dreams I’ve never dreamed before.
“I’ve been here about three times before this summer but have never really seen Las Vegas. Not like this.”
“Really? Why not?” Finn asks, touching his glass to his lips.
“I was always just passing by. Once for work, another time for a conference, another time after that to rescue Palmer.”
Finn rolls his eyes. “Oh, Palmer.”
I get the impression Finn doesn’t like my best friend much. I’ve told him a few stories here and there and I’m not sure if I gave him the best impression. I don’t mean to make Palmer sound selfish, flighty, or catty in conversation, but somehow, it’s how she comes across.
“Why did Palmer need rescuing?”
“There’s a fancy strip club off the Strip that way, I think.” I point to my left. “It’s called Ruby’s. Palmer went with some random guy and the bachelor party he was attending. Well, he ditched her and took home the stripper who was giving them lap dances all night. He stuck her with a bar tab for the entire party that was well over a thousand dollars and she couldn’t pay it. She got mouthy and was swinging punches, so they locked her in a stripper cage—like a little jail. When Palmer called me, I talked to someone from security and begged him not to call the police. I hightailed it out to Las Vegas to collect Palmer and pay the stupid tab. They probably could’ve arrested her that night, so I owe Ruby’s one.”
Finn presses his lips together in a flat line like he’s debating his response.
Okay, once again… Palmer is not coming off great.
“Ruby’s is that way,” he says, pointing to the right. “And it’s not a strip club, it’s a gentleman’s club.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Dress code and budget,” he answers dryly.
I smirk at him. “Oh, and you’re very familiar with Ruby’s, huh?”
“Yeah,” he says. “I’ll own it one day.”
“What?” That was certainly not the answer I was expecting.
“Just on paper,” Finn says defensively. “I won’t be managing it. It’s part of my inheritance. Ruby’s makes a lot of revenue for the Harvey family.”
I vaguely remember walking into Ruby’s and thinking it looked more like a luxury Four Seasons than a strip club. It makes sense.
“Hm, Finn Harvey, a gentleman’s club owner. Who knew?”
He turns his head, watching my eyes intently. “I could sell it one day. Gramps would be pissed, but once it’s mine, it’s my decision.”
I show him a pinched look. “Why would you sell it if it’s making you good money?”
Finn turns his gaze back to the scenic overlook. He lifts and then drops his shoulders. “Let’s say, hypothetically, I ended up with a girl who wasn’t really into the Vegas thing and didn’t love the idea of me owning a club where women dance fully nude for money. I wouldn’t object to getting rid of it if it made her unhappy.”
“Fully nude?” I can’t help but squawk in surprise.
“Well, technically, no. We wouldn’t be able to serve liquor in that case. But what’s a tiny flesh-colored G-string really covering, you know?”
“Wow. In Vegas, it’s cocktails or full frontal. Okay, well, now I know. You can’t have both.”
Finn chuckles, but his laugh falls flat. “I’m not trying to play games, Avery. If I’m in love, I just want the person I’m in love with to be happy. My ex was wildly jealous of every woman with eyes and a pulse. It’s what broke us. I stopped seeing my friends. I stopped going out. There were even certain clients she wouldn’t let me photograph. If it was past eight o’clock, my ass was in the house, on the couch, with her. I thought I did everything to make her feel secure, yet it was never enough.
“But the point I’m trying to make is I was willing to do anything to make her feel secure. That’s the kind of man I am, and will always be. For whomever I’m with.”
My heart aches. It physically aches. What screw would a woman have to have loose to drive this man away with petty jealousy?
“Well, what if you ended up with a girl who was admittedly a little insecure but didn’t think it was your responsibility to fix? What if you had a girl who wanted you to have friends, have fun, and be passionate and happy and whose trust you had blindly until you broke it?” I bring my fingertips to my lips and blow him a sweet kiss. “Hypothetically, of course.”
Okay, bold. Bold move. But Finn started it. He said a relationship was on his mind back when we were in the tub. I want him to know he’s not alone. Even if I don’t know how to make sense of it, I certainly feel the same way.
Finn’s gaze snaps to mine and his face relaxes into an awestruck expression. “Can you please, please just agree to a boudoir session so I can take you inside and bury you into the mattress right now? It’s what we both want.”
I grumble in agitation. “No. To the photo shoot. But I’ll get naked and grab the headboard right now if you want to end your strike.”
He lets out a low whistle. “Not a chance.”
“Why is it so important to you, Finn? Come on. Is this a kinky thing? Like a voyeur thing? Because you can watch me without the camera…”
“No, it’s not a—” The corner of his lip twitches as a mischievous smile claims his face. “Wait, I can watch you do what?”
I shrug and bat my eyelashes suggestively. “End the strike. I’ll show you just how wet I am right now, and when I’m done playing solo, you can join in.”
His jaw slackens and his bottom lip drops slightly. “Listen to that dirty mouth. I created a monster.”
“Are you proud?”
“Very. And I’m going to take you up on that…as soon as you get in my studio.”
“Finn—”
“It’s because of my mom.”
I suck in a breath and hold it. I’m not sure if I should be extremely curious or completely put off. “For the love of God, please elaborate.”
He holds his chest through his rich and melodic laugh. “It’s not what you’re thinking. I have never, nor will I ever photograph my mother like that.” He shakes his head like he’s shaking off the shudder-worthy thought.
“Thank goodness. So what does any of this have to do with your mom?”
He pulls the bottle of champagne from the ice bucket and fills his glass before topping off mine. “What did you think of my dad tonight? Before the drama and the dickhead things he said about you.”
I try to remember before my heart bottomed out of my ass. It was such a pleasant dinner that ended so cruelly. “He was honestly so charming and charismatic, it blinded me to how deeply shallow he is.”
“Exactly.” Finn lets out a sharp breath. “I’ve never been able to explain it so eloquently. That’s exactly it. And my mom found out when it was far too late. My dad cheated on her unapologetically. She was reaping the benefits of his income and inheritance that he felt he had the right to disrespect her left and right. He was gone so much that I think she tolerated it. But also, I think she really loved him and hoped he would just grow up. But he never did and my mom didn’t want me to know that side of him, so she kept everything hush-hush from me. It wasn’t until I left for college that she finally filed for divorce. Soon after, I found out I had two half-sisters, both in their twenties, only a couple of years younger than me.”
“Oh, Jesus.”
“Yeah, and to top it off, after over twenty years of marriage and supporting him and his career, my mom asked for the bare minimum. She just wanted enough to live by and to finish paying off the mortgage. We’re talking she wanted pennies on the dollar from my dad’s fortune, but he was ready to fight. He didn’t want to give her anything. He hired some hot-shot lawyer to drag her through the mud, making her out to be money-hungry and cold-hearted. He said it cut him when she asked for a divorce. Can you believe that shit? After everything he did to her, and yet he was brokenhearted.”
“I get it,” I mumble.
“What?” Finn actually looks offended. His face is twisted up with indignation.
I sigh, unbothered. He’s misunderstanding my message, so I clarify. “Sometimes you don’t see that you’re a monster until the people you love most won’t tolerate you anymore.”
Finn sits on my words for a moment, letting them saturate. “Oh. Okay, yeah. I guess.” He nods slowly. “Anyway, Mom had a tough time for a while. I lived in the dorms but went to UNLV, so I was close enough to home to visit every weekend. I watched her crumble into depression. Then, one day, she just perked up. I remember it was after finals in my sophomore year. I brought home my girlfriend at the time for the first time, and I warned her not to be offended if Mom didn’t say much because she was in a bad place. But Mom had the entire house decorated for Christmas, which she hadn’t done the year before. She was baking and holiday music was playing.” Finn smiles at the sweet memory that’s clearly playing in his mind. “She was just alive again. I asked her what changed and she said her friend talked her into a boudoir photography shoot. She said she forgot how beautiful and powerful she was, but it helped her remember.
“From there, she started fighting back with my dad. She went to every court hearing. She sat through all the bullshit. She worked three different jobs to make ends meet. Eventually, she let the big house go and moved to Scottsdale. She even started dating again. All from seeing herself through the right lens. And that’s when I decided to start looking into what the hell boudoir was.” Finn laughs. “The descent into madness was swift from there.”
Oh damn. Of course he had to hit me with the sweetest, most sentimental bullshit he could conjure up. “Did you make all of that up just to convince me to do this?”
He smirks. “Why? Did it work?”
I roll my eyes. “Finn.”
He chuckles. “I didn’t make it up. It’s the truth. Every word.”
Taking a small sip from my glass, I let the bubbles of champagne pop on my tongue. “Lennox mentioned you got your pilot’s license.”
“Just my private. I wanted to work toward a commercial license and then one day go further and get the certs to fly for commercial airlines like my dad, but after everything came out…” He trails off before finishing off his glass. He doesn’t refill it. Instead, he turns to look at me hungrily. I know what’s going through his mind.
Just cave. Just say yes. I want you.
“You wanted to do less of what brought your dad joy and be closer to what made your mom come back alive?”
“Right. Something like that.” Finn reaches over the small patio table between us. He holds out his hand. “I just want you to have that experience, Avery. Every woman should. It’s not that I want to get off to sexy pictures of you. I only want you to see how incredible you are and be brave enough to do this, because it makes me sick when I think of you being ashamed of your body. I want to give you the gift of loving yourself. And as selfish as that sounds, I want it to be from me. You asked for my help with intimacy, and this will help.”
“Finn, you’re already doing more for me than I could’ve asked anyone.” I place my hand in his and squeeze tenderly. “I’m really tired. I think I’m going to tuck in for the night.” I rise with his hand still in mine and then proceed to kiss the tips of his fingers. “Thank you for everything. If I’m sleeping when you come in, make sure to kiss me good night.” I let go of his hand and tap my cheek where he should kiss, subtly telling him he did not get his way. The door to sex will remain locked because…
There’s no way I’m going to lose this man.
My fairy-tale man for the summer.
I’m not going to risk him seeing a few unflattering pictures of me half-naked that will surely break the spell.
