The First Crack

Finn's POV

Three weeks.

Naomi had announced it so casually, like she wasn't handing me the keys to my own destruction. Three weeks of location shooting. Three weeks of Grant and me alone in this mansion with nothing but the memory of that kiss between us. I watched her pack. She was dramatic while talking a mile a minute about the script, the director and her co-star. She kissed Grant on the cheek at the door, promised to call every night, then she left.

The door clicked shut.

Silence.

I stood in the foyer, my heart pounding against my chest. Grant was still at the door, his hand on the handle, staring at the wood like it held all the answers. He didn't turn around.

I took a step forward. "Mr. Grant."

He didn't move.

Another step. "Grant."

His shoulders tensed and slowly, he turned. The look on his face made my breath catch. It was raw, hungry and terrified. He looked like a man standing on the edge of a cliff, trying to decide whether to jump or not.

"Finn." His voice was rough. "This is…."

"Don't." I stepped closer. "Don't say it's wrong. Don't say we can't. I'm so tired of hearing you say that."

"Because it's true." He ran a hand through his hair, a rare sign of agitation. "Your mother….."

"She doesn't love you." The words slipped out before I could stop them. "She never did and you know that, Grant. You know you married her for appearances and she married you for your money. Don't pretend like this is some great love story we're destroying."

His jaw tightened. "That doesn't make what I feel for you right."

"What do you feel?" I stepped closer. "Tell me. Say it. I need to hear you say it."

He looked at me for a long moment. His grey-blue eyes searched mine, and I saw the battle raging behind them. The control and the fear. Then he broke.

"I can't stop thinking about you." His voice cracked. "Every night. Every morning. Every time I close my eyes, I see you on your knees, looking up at me. And I…." He pressed his palm against his forehead, like he was trying to press the thoughts out. "I've never wanted anyone like this. I've never needed anyone like this. And it terrifies me."

I closed the distance between us. I reached up and touched his face, tracing the line of his jaw. He closed his eyes, leaning into my touch like a starving man.

"Then stop fighting it," I whispered. "Stop fighting me." He opened his eyes.

"I can't," he breathed. "I can't lose everything. My company, my reputation, everything I've built….."

"I'm not asking you to lose anything." I stepped closer. Our bodies were almost touching. "I'm asking you to trust me, to trust this, to trust yourself."

I ran my hands through his jaw, feeling the tremor in his breath, then he kissed me. Harder, then softer, savouring every reaction he pulled from me. His hands fisted in my shirt, yanking me against him. His mouth was hungry, devouring, like he was trying to consume me.

I kissed him back just as desperately. I had waited a long time for this. He pulled back, breathing hard. "Finn….."

"Shut up." I grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the stairs.

He didn't resist.

I led him to my room. My room, not his. I wanted him here, i wanted him in my space, on my bed, surrounded by everything that was mine. He stood in the doorway, watching me. I turned to face him, my heart pounding. "Tell me you want this," I said. "Tell me you want me."

He crossed the room in three long strides. He pushed me against the wall, his body pinning mine, his mouth claiming mine. His hands were everywhere, in my hair, on my hips, under my shirt.

"Of course I want you," he growled against my lips. "I've wanted you since the day you walked into this house. I've wanted you so badly it's been driving me insane."

I gasped as his mouth found my neck. "Then take me"

He pulled back, his eyes dark with desire. "You're sure?"

I laughed, breathless. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

And he took me.

It wasn't gentle, It wasn't slow. It was raw and desperate and everything I'd ever dreamed of. He pinned me against the wall, his hands gripping my hips, his mouth on my skin. He was relentless and consuming and I gave myself to him completely.

When it was over, we lay tangled together in my bed. His arm was wrapped around me, his chest pressed against my back. I could feel his heart beating fast and uneven, just like mine.

"Finn…." His voice was soft.

"Don't say you regret it." I turned to face him. "Don't you dare."

He looked at me. For a long moment, he didn't speak. Then he reached out and traced the line of my jaw, his touch featherlight. "I don't regret it," he said. "I just don't know how to do this. I don't know how to be what you need."

"Just be here," I whispered. "That's all I need. Just be here with me."

He pulled me closer, pressing a kiss to my forehead and in the silence of that room, surrounded by the scent of him, I let myself believe this could work.