Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

FINNIGAN

With my chest heaving as I stagger back from Catlin, the warmth of her lips on mine and her hands splayed across my chest still lingers. Her heavy words ring in my ears.

You should go.

Leaving is the last thing I want to do. The taste of her and the way she felt against me didn’t just affect my—ridiculously hard again—cock. Kissing her was… different. I felt her everywhere . Her lips pressed to mine, and her body against my hands caused my stomach to flutter. The electricity between us tingled in my fingertips as they dragged along her skin. I want— no, need —to pull her back into me and kiss her until we’re both completely lost in each other again. Until the need to claim every inch of one another is so unbearable that we’re left with no choice but to give in to our desires.

“Cat,” I exhale as I step toward her and outstretch my arm to drag her soft body against me again, but she shakes her head and shuns my reach. She lifts her stare from the floor, and the usual emerald sparkle of her gaze is gone, replaced with trepidation and a tinge of sadness.

Her breathing is ragged as she struggles to hold my stare. Her gaze falls to the floor again, and her pained voice crackles between her labored breaths, “I’m sorry.”

Clouded with my arousal, I didn’t see it at first. But it was written all over her face when she pushed away from me; what she felt was as terrifying as it was arousing. I could feel her need like it was my own— because it was my own. She needed more of me as much as her next breath. If not more. This thing between us is palpable and has an urgency that swells far beyond her innocence.

She’s scared.

“Oh, Cat. You don’t need to be sorry,” I reassure her, watching as she tries to hold herself together for me.

My gaze wanders past her as I give her a moment to collect herself, and I take in her modest living arrangements. Spanning the room, I count the religious artifacts hanging on the walls and collecting dust on the shelves. One painting, two figurines, and four—no, five—crucifixes.

Fuck.

Closing my eyes, I let out a deep sigh and solemnly shake my head.

I’m such a fucking idiot.

“Quinn warned me… that you were a good girl… Fuck. I just didn’t… didn’t realize…” I mutter as I close the distance between the two of us. Slipping my finger under her chin, I tip her distressed face up to mine. “Fuck, Cat, if anyone should be sorry, it’s me.”

Tears well in her eyes as she holds my gaze, and her lower lip begins to tremble. “I can’t do this... With you.” Her words are so soft that they’re barely a whisper.

“Tell me why,” I gently demand, swiping my thumb over her flushed cheek to catch a rogue tear.

“I’m not that kind of girl, Finn.” She lets out a heavy sigh.

“No, you aren’t.” Cupping her face in both hands, I stare down at her and confess, “As much as I want to kiss you and taste those sweet lips of yours for the rest of the night, you don’t have to be that kind of girl for me.”

Dipping my head, I place a soft, comforting kiss against her forehead.

“There have been… I’ve met a lot of women in my life, Cat, and you aren’t like any of them.” I continue to stroke my thumbs over her ruddy cheeks. “And I don’t want you to be like any of them.”

There’s something different about her, and it isn’t just her sweet innocence.

“You scare me, Finn.”

“You don’t need to be scared of me.”

“I’m not afraid of you ,” she clarifies, shaking her head. “I barely know you. It’s what I think about doing when you touch me that worries me.”

“Then I won’t touch you.” Dusting my fingers along her jaw, I slide my hands from her face as I whisper, “Not until you ask me to.”

Taking a few steps backward to place more distance between us, I find my back pressed to the door. I reach for the knob behind me and turn it to begrudgingly honor her request. I pull open the door and step over the threshold into the unseasonably brisk night air. Without breaking the gaze between us. I whisper, “However long you need.”

A faint smile spreads across her face, and the emerald of her eyes regain a bit of their beautiful flicker when she softly purrs, “Good night, Finnigan.”

“Good night, Cat.” I hold her stare through the narrowing gap in the doorway until it clicks shut. Even once it’s closed, and I’m standing exposed in the courtyard, I struggle to bring myself to leave.

Heading to the perimeter, I leave the same way I got in. I scale the brick wall and drop to the concrete sidewalk on the other side. Safe from the threat of being caught in the convent by Father O’Flaherty, I lean against the cool bricks and take a moment to collect my thoughts.

Did I really just promise to be abstinent for a woman I barely know?

“Fuck, Cat,” I mutter to myself as I push myself from the brick wall behind me. “You really are going to fucking ruin me.”