tricks since I was fourteen.”
“I think you might have.”
He smiled, but his eyes remained serious. He was waiting for her to answer him. To tell him to go—or to stay.
“I don’t know what I want,” she said.
“Don’t you?”
His gaze was steady on hers as he took one step toward her, then another. Her heart clamored against her breastbone as he stopped a scant few inches away. She could feel his body heat, could smell his aftershave and the faintest hint of good, clean sweat. She could see his five-o’clock shadow and the small scar at the very tip of his left eyebrow.
Her gaze slid to his mouth, tracing the sensuous curve of his lower lip. She’d been too confused, too conflicted to allow herself to even think about kissing him before. Now she let herself go there, wondering how it would feel to press her mouth to his, to feel his tongue inside her mouth, to taste him and breathe the same air as him.
Hot desire unfurled inside her, foreign and familiar at the same time. It had been so long since she’d kissed and been kissed.
“You have the most watchable face,” Flynn said, his voice very low and deep. He laid his hand on her face, his thumb brushing along her cheekbone, his fingers cradling her jaw.
She swallowed, awash with nerves and lust and anticipation and fear as his gaze slid to her mouth and he drew closer. She closed her eyes and forgot to breathe as his lips met hers and his free arm came around her, pulling her close.
He was strong and warm and male and his mouth moved gently against hers, his kiss provocative and soothing at the same time. Her hands found his shoulders, her fingers gripping muscle and bone. She felt the brush of his tongue against her lips, then he was inside her, hot and wet and demanding, and a part of herself she’d pushed down deep inside came roaring to life.
It had been so long. Too long. And he felt good.
She angled her head to deepen their kiss, her fingers clenching into the fabric of his T-shirt, pulling him closer. She slid her tongue along his, tasting him, giving as good as she got. Her other hand slid down his back, exploring the broad planes and angles en route to his waist. When she arrived, she fumbled blindly for the hem of his T-shirt, sucking on his tongue, pressing her hips forward, desperate to touch him skin-to-skin. Finally she slid her hand over his belly. She made an approving sound in the back of her throat as she felt the flex of his stomach muscles beneath her hand. She needed more from him. Much more.
She caught the hand cupping her jaw and pulled it to her breast, closing her own hand over his. He took the hint, his thumb sweeping across her nipple, and she let out a low moan.
She’d forgotten how good this felt. How needful. How beautiful and powerful a man’s body felt beneath her hands, how different the textures of his skin were from her own.
Wet heat throbbed between her legs as he plucked at her nipple through the layers of her sweater and bra. She wanted him. She wanted him very badly.
The press of his hips against hers, the silken rasp of his tongue in her mouth, the beautiful friction of his fingers at her breast, the feel of his hard body beneath her hands, the smell of him, the taste of him—she was overwhelmed by sensation, utterly lost.
Her shaking hands found the waistband of his jeans. She popped the stud free and had his zipper down and her hands inside his boxer briefs in seconds. His erection was thick and hard and hot in her hand, his shaft silky smooth. She stroked him, rubbing herself against his thigh at the same time.
She imagined what he would look like naked, how he would feel on top of her, sliding inside her.
She couldn’t wait. She couldn’t.
She started pushing his jeans down, her hands frantic. He smiled against her mouth.
“Slow down, babe. We’ve got all night,” he murmured. His tone was light, but his words hit her like a slap.
Suddenly she could hear Owen’s voice in her head, cold with condemnation and disgust.
Did it ever occur to you that maybe I’d like to take the lead now and again?
It’s not a porn shoot, Mel. Do you have to make so much noise?
Could you at least try to pretend you’re not