Finn's Shot (Eden's Odyssey Book 1) (18 page)

18 months later

I roll to my left and allow
my eyes to travel the full length of my bride’s amazing body. Her skin glistens
in the Caribbean sun as I trace her spine starting near the two little dimples
above her ass with my fingernail watching as goose bumps break out in it’s
wake. Her cheek is laying against the blanket and her new tattoo peaks out from
right under her hair line. It’s a small replica of the the hockey stick, puck
and number seventy-seven on my arm placed on her neck. It’s fucking sexy as
hell. She rolls to her side and flips her hair over her shoulder effectively
hiding it from my sight.

“Hey, honey,” I greet her as
I place a kiss on her lips and lean in further to place the next one lower. She
arches her neck back so I can access the sensitive skin. The faint taste of
sweat and suntan lotion crosses my lips, but I don’t care. I keep going because
I love the reaction I get from her. I scoot a little closer on the blanket and
slide my knee between her legs and hook the top one over my hip.

“We can’t do this on the
beach, Finn.”

My voice is muffled by her
skin, “Yes, we can. This is the only reason I booked our honeymoon in a house
with a private beach.”

“What if someone flies over?”

“My little exhibitionist is
worried about who will see us when I fuck her? I don’t believe it,” I tease.

I pull the string behind her
neck and watch as the triangles fall away from her breasts. Then I lean forward
and suck one rosy nipple into my mouth using lips and teeth. She moans in
response. I shift my attention to the other breast and ask, “Do you want me to
stop?”

“No,” she moans.

I lap at the beaded peak of
her breast as I tug on the string of her bottoms by her hip and it falls open.
I pull the other string partially trapped under her next. When it’s loose I
yank the whole piece of fabric and toss it in the sand behind us. My lips
return to her neck and my fingers slip into her velvet center. Her moans are
sweet breathy sounds that send every ounce of blood in my body to my cock. Her
fingernails scrape their way down my chest, over my abs and under the waist
band of my board shorts. Her little hand wraps around my throbbing dick as I
groan, loving how it feels. She strokes the best she can a few times and then
tugs my shorts off. Then she pushes me to my back and straddles my hips. The
heat of her pussy drags along my shaft as she grinds against me. She’s teasing
me.

I lift her hips and instruct
her, “Grip my dick, baby. I want you to slide down and ride me. Start out
slow.”

She does as she’s told,
crying out as her heat engulfs me. “Finn, you feel so good.” She rolls her hips
setting a perfect rhythm as perspiration runs down between the heavy swell of
her breasts.

“Ride me harder, Darcy.”

She changes tactics utilizing
gravity in a rise and fall motion. Her thighs flex while I dig my fingers into
the flesh at her hips and power into her. Her tits bounce with the impact as
her head falls back. I can feel the moment her orgasm hits. Her pussy clenches
around me, milking me with the strong inner muscles. I explode with the force
of an atom bomb and hold her tight to my chest as she catches her breath.

She’s my perfect fit, my
better half and I guide her mouth to mine kissing her with deep solid strokes
of my tongue. I pull back enough so I can speak but still have our lips
touching to tell her, “You bring so much color to my life. I love everything
about you and I’m so glad I can now call you my wife.” Her smile is radiant when
she responds, “I love you too, Finn. Not a day goes by that I’m not thankful
for you.”

****

Darcy

Almost six years have passed
since I met Finn. He’s always told me I brought vivid color to his dull life
when I came along, but I think these little guys have taken over that job and
are now making both of our lives brighter and more interesting. My once taupe
walls are now colored with black marks from flying pucks and swinging hockey sticks.
Small grey hand prints can be found at various locations throughout the house. During
a visit from my mother-in-law six months ago she mentioned the hand prints on
the wall so I grabbed a wash cloth, prepared to wipe them from the walls, but
quickly put it away deciding that the little grey marks told a portion of the
story of our family. After explaining to her why I was keeping them she smiled
and shook her head. Someday she’ll come to understand my creative way of
thinking.

The once royal blue tile in
the bathroom is now covered in red, yellow and green bathtub crayon pictures
and the walls of our living room now have full color family photos of us from
the day they were born until last week when we celebrated their third birthday.

 In my head I see
sunshine yellow in their smiles and the ocean in their blue eyes. When they’re
happy the blue replicates the tranquil Caribbean waters, by which they were
conceived, and when they’re angry or sad the blue is deeper, darker like the
water in the north Atlantic Ocean during a storm. Right now, I’m looking at
their tiny red Blizzard jerseys and their toddler sized blue jeans while
thinking how much I love the shock of wild blonde hair against the red. Color
to our lives.

Because the boys are so tall and
coordinated for their age everyone around us has encouraged us to start them on
ice skates early, but I made Finn wait because I’m a little nervous. Our boys
are rough and tumble little boogers and even though they’re only three years
old, Grady has had a broken arm from a failed attempt at flying from the top of
the stairs and Killian got stitches for a somersault gone wrong head first into
the hearth. I can’t begin to imagine what will happen when their little bodies
meet the unforgiving ice. I don’t want to add anything that might bring child
services knocking on our door.

The boys adore their father
and watch every single thing he does and love going to the hockey games to see
him play. I take them to as many home games as I can. Killian likes to watch,
he won’t take his eyes off the ice for more than a few seconds at a time. I’m
not sure if he understands the game all the way, but the interest is there.
Grady will watch for a bit and then eat for a bit, alternating all night long.
It seems the vendors are his favorite part of the experience.

Today was the first full day
of practice for this season so Finn arranged for me to bring the boys after nap
time following practice. Lenny, the old security guard, lets us in through the player’s
entrance and gives high fives to the boys as they run past. He chuckles to
himself as he comments, “Got your hands full honey!”

He can say that again. Laughing,
I agree and keep walking.

Thank goodness I got them
into painting too. At least once a day for the last year I took them into the
studio to slap paint onto canvas for a half an hour of calm time. The rest of
the time they’re full throttle. My in-laws say Finn was the same way.

Killian likes to paint, but
doesn’t show much natural talent which is okay as long as he’s having fun.
Grady’s a different story. I swear the kid already looks at the world from a
different angle and it comes through in his little boy art.

As I round the corner I hear
squeals before I see them both dangling upside down in the arms of Vlad, the
team goalie. Originally from Russia, his English is broken so it’s tough to
understand him sometimes, but he’s a great guy and the boys love him.

“Hey Vlad. I see you found my
boys.” I laugh.

“Yes, they was running so I
snatch them up and hang them by feet!” He gives a sinister chuckle and the boys
squeal again as their arms swing attempting to free themselves.  

Before I can say anything
else Finn emerges from the tunnel leading to the locker room wearing a black
Henley and jeans. His once long hair is shorter now, cropped close to his head
almost all over. For a while the boys pulled on it too much so he chopped it
off afraid if he didn’t he’d end up with bald spots.

His eyes are a little tired
today. He told me last week he thinks this will be his last season. His body is
growing old and the hits he takes in this sport don’t help. He’s been
approached about hockey commentator positions with two major networks but
refuses to discuss them until he’s made a decision.  

He engulfs me in a hug,
kissing me sweetly and I think about how I’ve never

been happier to be wrong in
my life. If I hadn’t been on that street corner five years ago I never would
have met Finn, or made it though Georgia’s death with my sanity in tact. I
wouldn’t have the twins and this crazy life we’ve created together. I’m glad he
fought for me even when I was certain we wouldn’t work.

Some days I’m still sad it
cost me my friendship with James, but if he’d been honest all along it wouldn’t
have been an issue. I hear he’s engaged and living somewhere outside the city.
I hope he’s as happy as I am, but I’ll probably never know. We haven’t spoken
in four years. He returned to the club briefly after Finn knocked him out and
confessed he couldn’t watch me make a life with Finn. He seemed to understand
before I did that Finn would be it for me. With his letter of resignation in
hand he kissed my cheek and said goodbye. I haven’t seen him since. Tanisha ran
into him at a club downtown sometime last year and said he seemed to be happy
but still asked about me.

Finn’s excitement for today
is palpable and the wide smile on his face shows me just how happy he is. When
it comes to the boys and all of their firsts he’s emotional. Right before we
take the boys on the ice Finn pulls me into his chest and leans down to my ear,
“I’m so glad you gave me a shot, honey. You make my life worth living. I can’t
think of anyone who is happier than I am. I love you and our boys.”

His continued appreciation of
me and our life together never gets old. All I can do is smile through my tears
and hold him tight to me, exactly what I plan to do for the rest of our lives.  

The
End

Also
by
Tiffani Lynn

Strangers
at Sunset (Betrayal to Bliss: Book 1)

Coming
Soon! 2016

A beautiful woman, a sexy photographer, a
spicy tryst by the sea

When newly widowed Lisa
Browning discovers her late-husband has fathered a child with another woman,
she abandons that vat of ice cream with her name on it and flies off to Florida
for a job interview with hopes of a new life. Lured by the sunset and lulled by
the sound of the waves, she becomes the focus of a sexy photographer on and off
camera. He’s the perfect substitute for her vat of ice cream…until her heart
gets in the way.

Freelance photographer Garrett Kline is
looking for the perfect subject for his latest job. When he spots the sensual
siren on the beach, he’s found what he is looking for…and then some. His inner
playboy is good with a short-term fling, but something about Lisa makes him
want more than being just strangers at sunset.

About
Tiffani Lynn

Tiffani Lynn has put down
roots on the west coast of Florida with her husband and three daughters. She’s
a former Hospice social worker who now spends the majority of her days writing
spicy romance novels. In her free time, you can find her reading or glued to
the television watching the Tampa Bay Lightning, the Tampa Bay Rays or the
Chicago Cubs play. If she’s lucky enough to get out of the house she enjoys hanging
out with her friends & family, watching hockey and baseball games live or attending
a variety of concerts. You can find out about her upcoming releases, other
available books, sign up for her newsletter or contact her by visiting
www.tiffanilynn.com
. She loves to hear from her readers!