Page 119 of Love Overboard
IN-BETWEEN CHARTERS 7 AND 8
FINN PEARSON: HEAD CHEF
PRODUCER
Are you alright?
FINN
Oh, I’m absolutely grand.
PRODUCER
Really? You’re not… I don’t know, feeling any certain type of way right now?
FINN
Can’t imagine what you mean.
PRODUCER
You don’t feel guilty or bad or worried or…?
Finn smirks, wipes hand over jaw and leans forward, elbows balancing on knees.
FINN
There’s a reason guilt is subjective, isn’t there, mate? All depends who the judge and jury are. And I’m curious… have you asked anyone else on this boat if they feel guilty?
PRODUCER
Should I?
Finn shrugs, sits back.
FINN
Guess that depends. Have you already made up your mind about the narrative for the show?
PRODUCER
We don’t spin a narrative. We just capture what happens.
Finn laughs, stands to leave.
FINN
Right. We’ll go with that.
I was on fire.
Finn slid his fingers under the silk hem of my top and bunched the fabric, dragging it up slowly in a silent request for me to lift my arms. As soon as I did, he peeled the shirt over my head, my hair gathering in the neck hole before it fell over my shoulders in waves as the silk was flung somewhere behind me.
A groan and his hands were on me, each palm testing the weight of my breasts as I arched into the touch. My hands wove into his hair and Finn took me in his mouth, his tongue swirling around one nipple before he kissed his way over to the other one.
“I’m so fecking torn right now,” he groaned, thumbing my nipples as he bit his lip and watched me squirm under the touch. “I don’t know if I want to spend the whole night worshiping these perfect tits and kissing every inch of your skin I’ve missed for the last two years…” His hands moved to my hips again, fisting the silk there. “Or if I want to shred these shorts and bury myself inside you right fecking now.”
A wave of chills broke over me at the raw edge of his voice, and I rocked against him until my clit sparked to life enough to make me tremble.
