Finn's Shot (Eden's Odyssey Book 1) (9 page)

The only other occupants are
two men sitting further down the row of chairs from Finn. I’m still standing
behind him with my hands on his shoulders watching the scene unfold in front of
me. I graze the back of his neck with my fingertips to find his muscles are bunched
up, tense and his skin is so hot it’s like he’s on fire.

I lean over into his ear and
whisper, “Take off your coat.”

He leans forward and removes
the coat. I take it from him and lay it over the empty chair next to us. Then I
manipulate the muscles in his neck and shoulders the best I can. His pulse is
thundering in his neck, and when I lean forward slightly, I can see the
enormous bulge in his pants as his gaze remains glued on the couple in the room.
I skim my nails lightly down his chest over his shirt and circle his nipples
through the fabric. His lips part and a sigh escapes as I watch his thighs flex
and his hands white knuckle the handles of the chair.  

As the girl turns over, and
her amazing body is fully on display, I saunter around the chair and sit on
Finn’s lap. Spreading my legs wide over the top of his, I face the scene. My
feet lock behind his calves leaving easy access to my center. I lay my head
back against his shoulder and kiss his jawline the smooth hair of his short
beard soft under my lips.

The masseur squirts oil
across both berry-tipped nipples, her belly button and down along the line of the
lips at the junction of her thighs. Rubbing briefly along her collar bones, he
shifts his attention to her amazing rack, running oily thumbs across her nipples,
causing the already hard points to bead further. She squirms, rolls her hips
and whines for him. His expression is stoic, like he’s unaffected as he
continues to rub. Its obvious torture for him to ignore her as his cock is
tenting the drawstring pants so tightly that I’m afraid the string might give
way on him. His lack of facial reaction turns me on more. The fact that his
physical self gives away what his facial expression refuses to is so sexy to
me.

Slowly he works his way to
the pink petals between her legs and takes his time spreading her open and locating
her g-spot. Standing on the side of the table he seems to be shifting his
attention between what his hands are doing and her facial expression. Her back
arches and her hand strays from her side to grip him through his pants. His
groan is loud as his hips punch forward at the contact. She’s now on a mission
to kill his reserve as she strokes him though the pants. The wicked grin on her
face makes it obvious.

I’m so turned on I might be
able to come without any help, but I want Finn’s hands on me even if it’s the
very last time. I grab his right wrist and guide it up my thigh to my soaked
panties and pray he’ll take over. Zero coaxing is required from me once his
fingers find me wet. He strokes over the panties with slow thumb pressure, building
me more slowly than I like.  

“Finn.” It comes out a
breathy plea.  

“What do you want, baby?” his
voice grumbles in my ear.

“Your fingers inside me. I
need to come. I need
you
to make me come.”

His hand fumbles with my
panties as he frantically searches for the exact spot I need him. As his first
finger enters me, I squeeze my nipple through my shirt and bra as hard as I can
and grind against his hand. I positioned myself so that every time I move
against his fingers my ass strokes his cock. So to keep me moving, he has to
keep his fingers moving inside me. This goes on for a few minutes as we watch
the man drop his pants, climb on the table, roll a condom on and penetrate the
girl in one hard, quick thrust.

She cries out and wraps her
legs around his hips as he pushes into her over and over and over. She’s
stunning to watch with her head thrown back, mouth open as she moans, and her
beautiful breasts pressed against his skin. He’s equally sexy as his tight ass
flexes with each stroke. Every muscle in his body is taut and shaped to
perfection.

I’m almost lost to the vision
in front of me, to Finn’s hand in my panties, and his hard on behind me when he
growls out in my ear, “You’ve got to stop or I’ll come in my pants.”

“I’ll stop moving if you put
your thumb on my clit,” I whisper back, capturing his earlobe with my teeth.

His fingers shift and the
second his thumb connects I go off, bucking and moaning against his thighs and
body as he holds me. Intense pleasure rolls through me in waves. Delirious from
my orgasm, I drop to my knees in front of him with no thought to where we are and
release his throbbing cock. His eyes are glazed as they watch my mouth swallow
the swollen head. I bob a total of five times before he tries to pull me off. I
refuse to move, now wrapping my hand around his shaft, sucking harder until he
shoots his hot, sticky liquid down my throat. I continue sucking and bobbing more
slowly now until the pulsing ceases. Then I clean him with my mouth and tuck
him back into his clothes. The couple in the scene room are still going at it.
Her cries growing louder by the second. I step back behind him and go back to
rubbing his shoulders until they finish.

Once the scene ends, I tug
him by the hand back to my office. As soon as we are through the door he throws
the lock, undoes his pants, and let them hit the floor around his ankles. He snatches
me against him and kisses me with a force I’ve never felt. Before I can say a
word, he spins us and pushes my back against the door. He drags my skirt up to
my waist and rips the panties clean off me. The burn from where the fabric tore
on my tender skin does little to distract me.

I lift one of my legs to curl
around his hip; the other balancing precariously on my sky high heels. He
shoves his boxers down and enters me roughly, taking me hard and fast. His arms
holding me close, he pumps into me with a fervor I’ll never get enough of.  His
grunts echo in my ear as he sucks and nips on my neck. He’s clearly lost
control of himself and is fucking me so hard we may make a dent in this door. I’m
sure my whole staff and some of the members can hear my screams as I come not
just once, but twice. The grooves in the design of the door are going to be
permanently etched into my skin and while painful as I bang against them, it
also brings about a different sort of pleasure. This is a wild hedonistic
pleasure born from need and overwhelming desire. Our skin continues to slap
together carrying a rhythm all its own.

As I draw closer to my next
orgasm, he must feel it, because he increases his pace.

I chant, “Finn. Oh god. Finn,
Oh god. Finn!”

He comes inside me on a fiery
rush and collapses against me, pinning me harder to the door as my muscles
clench around him. The wood is cool against my overheated skin, and I’m spent
as my legs slips from his hip, foot landing on the floor. Boneless like a jelly
fish, my legs struggle to hold me up. He pulls out slowly, and jerks his boxers
and pants back up over his flaccid cock.

In a soft voice I mention, “The
bathroom is behind you through that door if you need it.”

I point to the open door
across the room. He leaves me standing there without a word, so I snatch my
ravaged panties from the floor and toss them in my wastebasket.  He comes
out a moment or two later and won’t look me in the eyes. I walk around him to
the bathroom where I clean myself up. Then I return to face him.

The tortured look he gives me
is not one you’d expect from a man who just came for the second time in less
than an hour. My stomach rolls at the realization of his regret. It’s obvious
that’s what he’s feeling.  

“I hate myself for what just
happened. That’s not me. I can’t believe how rough I was with you.” Instead of
enjoying what we did, he feels guilt, and my heart plummets at his confession.

I step forward close enough to
touch him again. “I loved every second of it. If not, I would have stopped it.
You enjoyed it. Why are you questioning yourself about this? We did nothing
wrong.” 

“I let you suck my dick in
front of strangers. I fingered you to orgasm so the people around us could
watch. What the hell?! That’s not me, not who I want to be. I’m sorry for all
of it.”

He strides around me and leaves
my office, while I drop to one of my chairs and fall apart, sobbing so hard I
can’t see two feet in front of me. Not even five minutes later James is there
on his knees between my legs, arms wrapped around me as I cry. He doesn’t say a
word; he just holds me. This should be Finn holding me, not James, but I’m
needy enough in this moment to take the comfort from a friend. Once I’m calm,
James drives me home and tells me to take the next night off, so I do. I spend
the next couple of days holed up in my studio painting away my heartbreak.

Finn walked out on me over a
week ago and I’m still not sleeping well, so when my phone rings at 6:30 a.m., I
groan with exhaustion as I answer it.

“Darcy. It’s Agnes.”

“Hi, Agnes. Is everything
okay?”

“Not really, dear. Georgia
had a rough night. The doctor would like to meet with you this afternoon if you
are able to be here.”

“What time?”

“Around five o’clock if you
can.”

“I’ll be there. Agnes, thank
you for calling. Tell Georgia I love her and I’ll be there today.”

“Okay, dear. I’ll still be
here when you get here. Oh, and don’t bring her anything to eat. She hasn’t
been swallowing so well. I don’t want you to waste your money.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” I quietly
respond. I always bring Georgia meals or treats when I come. I love to see her
eyes light up when she realizes I brought one of her favorites. For her to not
be eating, it must be getting worse.

After the phone call, I roll
out of bed and prepare for my day. Then I drive to my office to sign off on
time sheets so I can leave town. I inform James and Charles where I’ll be and
drive the two hours north to see my sister.  

I arrive early and walk to
the community room. This is usually where I find her during the day, doing some
kind of craft, playing checkers or watching television with her friends. She’s
not there and none of the other residents have seen her, so I go to her room.
As I cross the threshold, my heart drops. My sweet Georgia is lying in bed
watching cartoons. She’s not out of her pajamas, and she’s very quiet. On a
normal day cartoons make her giggle non-stop. I can usually hear her down the
hall as I approach.

“Hey, baby sister!” I croon,
trying to get a rise out of her.

Usually, this is when she huffs,
I’m not a baby, don’t call me that
. Instead, her eyes turn to me briefly and
back to the television, and she doesn’t give me a hello.  

“Georgia,” I say this time as
I sit on the edge of her bed like I did when she was a little girl. I run my
fingers in soft strokes through the choppy bangs across her forehead. They’re
finally growing out, but I made the staff hide all the scissors so she wouldn't
cut her own hair again. Her eyes shift back to me almost as if she’s waiting
for me to talk to her.

“I missed you, sister. Are
you feeling bad?” She shakes her head but doesn’t say anything. Her silence
really makes me nervous. She’s a chatty girl with me most of the time.

 “Nurse Agnes told me
you haven’t been eating. You want me to go to the store and get you a sub
sandwich? I’ll get your favorite, and I’ll even order extra pickles.” She
shakes her head again and goes back to watching television. My sister is never
this subdued. She’s full of animation and energy at all hours of the day.

A sour feeling builds in my
stomach. Whatever is going on with her is not normal, and I’m afraid of what
Doc will say about this. Georgia is three years younger than I am. She was born
with Down syndrome and a multitude of other things. It’s probably a miracle
she’s made it this far. She’s my last living family member, and I can’t imagine
a world without her.

My first memory is of holding
her in my lap the day my parents brought her home from the hospital. She was
wrapped up in a pink fuzzy blanket and had a tiny pink hat on her head and her
huge, exotic, almond shaped eyes stared up at me while her bright pink cheeks
were glowing against her pale skin. I was in love instantly. I was as helpful
as any three-year-old big sister could be. She was my shadow as we grew older,
I took her everywhere I went, so she could do everything I did. I got in more
than one fight as a kid because children were cruel and often made fun of her.
I was never embarrassed of her, and until I started dating, I wanted her with
me all the time. On dates she proved problematic, so I left her at home those
nights, but most of the time, I took her with me wherever I went.

My dad was a seeping sack of
crap and left when she was a year old. I’ve only seen him twice since. He showed
up at my graduation, I saw him as we were getting ready to line up to start the
ceremony so I had him thrown out. When he had the balls to appear at mom’s
funeral, I just ignored him. I wanted to send him packing, but I didn’t want to
make a scene and upset my sister. She never understood why she didn’t have a
dad like all the other kids.

Georgia lived with my mom in
the city and then with me for a while after Mom died. When she began having
more medical issues than I could keep up with and needed 24/7 supervision, I
had to find a facility that took care of people like her. She was in a group
home close to me in the city, but I went by one afternoon to find she’d had a
bowel accident with no one there to help her clean up. It was hours old and a
huge mess. I flipped out and pulled her that day.

Doctor Jessup, better known
to us as Doc, has been her doctor all of her life and also happens to be a
client of the club. When I pulled her from the facility that day, I called Doc
right away and he recommended Happy Faces Care Facility two hours north of town.
I wasn’t happy with the idea of her being so far from me, but the reviews were
amazing and the residents were all clean and happy when I visited the next day.
Professional, friendly staff made it easier to forego my selfishness and place
her there. Doc promised to continue with her care and make monthly visits
unless otherwise needed. That helped a lot. The only issues I could find with
Happy Faces was the distance from me and the monthly price tag. It was three
times the cost of the last facility. After much discussion with Doc and Tanisha,
I decided to do whatever was necessary to give my sister the very best. She’s
been here and happy ever since.

I migrate over to a recliner
in the corner and sit in silence waiting for Doc to arrive. My sister never
says a word to me the whole time. Not too much later the sixty-year-old
handsome doctor strolls through the door with a smile on his face. He gives me
a wave and addresses Georgia first. “Hello, Miss Georgia. How are you feeling
this afternoon? Did you eat your lunch like I asked?”

She glances at him but
doesn’t say a word.

“Miss Georgia, I’m going to
take your blood pressure and check your pulse, okay?”

Again she turns her attention to him but doesn’t say a word.

“I’m going to listen to your
heart and lungs, too, okay?”

When he’s done he brushes her hair back over one ear and
kisses her forehead before leading me into the hall. 

“I don’t know why she’s stopped eating, but she has. She’s
lost six pounds in the last two weeks, so the nurses are calling me several
times a week with updates. I think we need to consider a feeding tube for now.
Maybe if we get some vitamins in her she’ll perk up. If not, we may have to run
some tests. What do you think, Darcy?”

Tears pool on the rims of my
eyes. “Will it hurt her?”

“No, we’ll put her under so she won’t get upset. It’s an
outpatient procedure. I’ll schedule it for some time this week. Can you meet me
here a week after we do it? I want to recheck. I know it’s a long drive.”

“Of course. You have my cell number. I’ll come anytime you
think I need to; the drive is not too bad. I like seeing her. Not like this,
but I love to visit her.”

“Okay, I’ll have my staff let you know what’s going on. I’m
going to do my best, but I can’t guarantee anything. Sometimes the body decides
it’s done and we can’t do anything about it. You’re a good sister.”

 He pats my cheek with affection and leaves me standing
there. I kiss Georgia goodbye and promise to come back over later in the week.
She never says a word; she just watches me go.