Flipping His Script: A Loathing to Love Romance
Page 31
I hadn't always been rich. But I had been screwed over by a rich guy. Both of us had.
And I'd made him pay, whether Anna realized it or not.
"You're wrong," I told her. "I haven't forgotten a thing. I'm just saying, the world is full of assholes. If you're too nice, you're gonna get hurt."
She gave a bitter laugh. "What do you care? You hate me."
The words hit like a freight train. I stared down at her. Did she really think that? Even now? I heard myself say, "What?"
"Oh, please. Don't bother denying it. You said so yourself." With another shrug, she mumbled, "In so many words, anyway."
Yeah. I'd hated her. But not anymore. Not for a while now.
But the way it sounded, I'd done a sorry job of proving otherwise. I searched her eyes. "That's what you think? That I hate you?"
"Of course that's what I think. I mean, you haven't exactly bothered to hide it."
I shook my head. "You're wrong."
She scoffed, "Sure I am."
Her words cut me to the core. "Anna—"
"Oh, c'mon, Flynn…" She looked around the empty restroom. "Even that whole scene of you busting in to 'rescue' me. We both know it was all for show."
What the hell? "For show? You serious?"
"Of course I’m serious." She lowered her voice. "I mean, it's not like we're really together."
She was right. We weren't. But if I had my way, we were gonna be.
And now, her eyes were glistening with tears.
Again.
Because of me.
I hated that. "What is it?"
She blinked. "What's what?"
"Just now, what were you thinking?"
"I just think you overdid it. I mean, with those guys, that's all."
Fuck it. I moved closer until we were nearly touching. "Let's get one thing straight. If that happens again, you're not talking me out of it."
"Out of what?"
"Whatever it takes."
She tried for a smile. "You don't mean the camera-up-the-ass thing, do you? Because I'm pretty sure that's illegal."
I looked to the floor and had to scoff. Forget the camera. Forget the guys, too. There was only one girl I wanted, and she thought I hated her.
This was my fault, not hers. Like a dumb-ass, I'd been hoping that the last week would soften the hard edges and make it easier for her to believe that things were different now.
If I had my way, they'd always be different.
When I looked up, I didn't try to hide how I felt. I loved her. Probably, I'd loved her for longer than I'd realized.
Our gazes locked, and her lips parted. Her eyes warmed like they did sometimes when we'd been only pretending.
But I wasn't pretending anymore. I said, "It's no act."
She swallowed. "What?"
As I gazed down at her, I thought of all the things I loved – her quick wit, her good heart, and yeah, the way her sweet ass moved when she walked.
I just prayed she wouldn't be walking away.
Yeah, this wasn't the time or the place. But screw it. I was done waiting. "You think I barged in here, because I was looking to put on a show?"
"I, um…" Looking flustered now, she said, "Well, I guess it's the kind of thing you might do if we were really together. So, you sort of had to, right?"
"Wrong."
She stared up at me. "What?"
I wanted to kiss her, right here, right now. "You're not the person I thought you were."
"And you just figured that out?"
"No." Deliberately, I softened my tone. "But there's something I need to say."
"What?"
"I owe you."
Chapter 82
Anna
As I stared up at Flynn, I felt my brow wrinkle in confusion. "You owe me what? Are you talking about the money?"
He gave me the ghost of a smile. "Do I need to say it?"
"Say what?"
"Fuck the money."
Probably, I should've seen that coming. But that didn't make the situation any less confusing. "Then what?" I asked.
"You name it, and it's yours."
"What's mine?"
"Whatever you want." His gaze met mine. "As long as it's me."
Woah. I did a double-take. Was he saying what I thought he was saying?
When I made no reply, he reached out and took both of my hands in his. "I don't hate you." He gave my fingers a tender squeeze. "I love you."
My breath caught. He did?
Like a total idiot, I glanced around, wondering if he was acting out for some unseen audience.
I tried to think. Maybe he thought the guys had left a recording device or something?
His voice, softer now, reclaimed my attention. "Is that so hard to believe?"
I gazed up at him. His eyes were warmer than I'd ever seen them, and I swear, my heart skipped a beat. "Um, well, I don't know."
"Right. And you know whose fault that is?"
"Whose?"
"Mine." He leaned a fraction closer. "I want to kiss you. And I don't mean for show."
My knees trembled, and my breath hitched. I wanted to be kissed. Holy hell, did I ever. Slowly, I felt myself nod.
When his lips closed on mine, I leaned into him, trying to reconcile this kiss with the others before it.
They'd all been terrific in their own way, but now there was a new sweetness – and a new urgency – that I couldn’t ignore. Suddenly, I wanted to leave, and I didn't mean only the restroom.
Plus, why were we doing this here? I mean, talk about unsanitary. And yet, I couldn’t bring myself to pull away.
His lips were soft and warm, and oh-so perfect as his mouth moved against mine until I felt nearly too dizzy to stand.
If I fell would he catch me?
The answer came in an instant. Oh yeah. He would. In some ways, he'd been catching me for a while now.
The kiss was long and lingering. I couldn't say exactly how long it lasted, but I did know how it ended – with the sound of voices and the flash of a camera coming from the near the restroom's main door.
I pulled away and whirled to look. In the now-open doorway, at least a dozen faces stared back at us. One of those faces belonged to that Ronnie guy – the photographer who'd followed me into the steakhouse restroom, however many weeks ago.
Seriously, had he no shame?
But then it hit me. If anyone should be ashamed, it was me. This was a public place, a public restroom in fact, and I'd been monopolizing the whole thing for an obscenely long time.
Were all those women waiting?
Oh, crap. The way it looked, they were. I should've realized that. But I'd been so lost in the drama – and then Flynn – that I hadn't even stopped to consider.
I was horrid.
And happy.
How crazy was that?
Not as crazy as Flynn, that's for sure. When he made a move toward the photographer, I dove for his arm and held on with a death grip while I apologized like crazy to all the women who'd been waiting.
But of course, they all ignored me, staring at Flynn like he could fix their pipes any time.
I gave a confused shake of my head. Had I really just thought that?
I was losing it, definitely.
But for once, I didn't mind.
Within ten minutes, Flynn and I were in the parking lot, with our food wrapped up to go. Twenty minutes after that, we pulled into his driveway, where things got even more interesting.
Chapter 83
Anna
"You know what you need?" he said.
We'd just pulled into his driveway, and I was already breathless with anticipation. Oh, I knew what I needed, all right.
Him.
Still, I replied, "What?"
He grinned. "To be ravaged."
I stifled a giggle. A few days ago, we'd been talking about his first movie, and I'd mentioned a favorite scene, where his character had carried a certain female conquest up his castle's main stairway
and into the master's chambers, where he'd totally had his way with her.
And she'd loved every minute of it.
As a viewer, I'd loved it, too. In fact, I'd watched the scene on disc at least five times in the dark. Alone.
But I wasn't alone now. I was with Flynn Archer for real. And I didn't see him as an actor, or as the brooding character he played in the movies. I saw him as something more than I ever could've imagined.
And the way he was looking at me, like I was the only girl who mattered, sent a warm shiver up my spine.
Over an embarrassed laugh, I admitted, "Well, I've never been ravaged before."
"Good."
"Why is that good?"
He held up a hand. "Hold that thought."
"Why?"
But already, he'd cut the engine and pushed open his car door. I watched in growing anticipation as he strode around the front of the vehicle, opened the passenger's side door, and pulled me up tight against him.
He kissed me right then and there, running his hands through the tendrils of my hair as I sagged against his hard, muscular body. Already, I could feel my own body responding, growing wet and ready for whatever he had in mind.
As for myself, I had plenty of things in mind, too – things I'd been thinking about for way too long.
I was nervous. And excited. And beyond eager. My heart was hammering so loud, I swear I could hear it over the sounds of crickets and the rustle of the wind in the trees surrounding the estate.
When he nibbled on my bottom lip, I gave a little whimper. His erection pulsed against my pelvis, and I ground against him, feeling more desperate with every passing moment.
His hands slid leisurely down my back, leaving a trail of need in their wake. Just as they reached my ass, I was suddenly slung, laughing now, over his shoulder.
I felt so light, and so happy that I could hardly believe it. In the back of my mind, I wondered how long it had been since I'd felt this way.
The answer came in an instant.
Never.
With a bump of his hip, my car door was shut with a final thud. A moment later, he'd turned and was striding toward his house, up the front porch, and soon, through his front door.
I gave a little gasp. "But wait. What about Jack?"
At this, Flynn's tone grew teasing. "If you think I'm gonna share, forget it."
"Oh stop it," I laughed. "That's not what I meant. I just mean—"
"He's gone, flew out early."
Thank God. "But why?"
"Ask me tomorrow."
"Why tomorrow?"
"Because we're done talking."
Slamming the front door behind him, Flynn made straight for the stairway, where he took the steps two at a time as I laughed in pure giddiness. The truth was, I'd fantasized about this more times than I'd be willing to admit, at least in the light of day.
But now, it was blissfully dark, and his stride was long and easy as he turned at the top of the stairway, heading toward the room at the end of the hall.
His room.
All this time, and I'd never been inside.
How crazy was that?
With me over his shoulder, he pushed open the door and made straight for the bed. More easily than I might've thought possible, he adjusted my position until I was cradled in his arms. He held me close for just a moment until, with one easy sling, he tossed me laughing onto the center of his bed.
The room was mostly dark, illuminated only by pale moonlight filtering in through the oversized windows. As I gazed up at him, I caught my breath.
Standing at the foot of the bed, he looked dark and dangerous, just like the character he played in the movies. And for a split second, I wondered if all of this was just a dream, an imaginary scene come to life just because I'd willed it in my own mind.
He gave me a long, lingering look and said, "You're beautiful, you know that?"
I wasn't half as beautiful as the actress he'd ravaged in my favorite scene. And compared to Felicity, I was so ordinary, it was laughable.
But you'd never know it from the look in his eyes as his gaze raked my body from head to toe.
I whispered, "I'm not nearly as beautiful as you are."
"Wrong," he said, prowling closer as his eyes smoldered into mine. When he reached the foot of the bed, he grabbed both of my ankles and yanked me downward, making the skirt of my dress hitch up nearly to my hips.
I was so breathless, I was nearly panting. How could that be? Both of us were still fully clothed – me in my red dress and him in his dark slacks and black button-down shirt.
His bed was higher than average, putting me within easy reach. His gaze slid to my pelvis, and he smiled. "Nice panties."
I suddenly recalled which ones I'd worn – lacy red ones to match the dress. I'd just bought them a couple of weeks ago. Had I known this might happen?
No. I couldn't've.
Or maybe my body had known, because even now, it was responding with such yearning that I literally ached.
"Don't worry," he said with a wicked grin. "I'll replace them after."
"After what?"
Taking his sweet time, he leaned closer. "This," he said, reaching one hand into the side of my panties and giving the fabric a quick twist and yank. With a sudden ripping sound, the panties fell aside, making me gasp in blissful surprise.
The air felt cool, and my skin felt hot. Still looming over me, he ran his hands over my hips and down the inside of my thigh.
When his thumbs brushed closer to my aching need, I gave a little whimper. I wanted his touch so bad, I felt like I'd die if I didn't get it.
When my hips rose, he smiled like he knew something that I didn't.
And boy, did he ever. With sweet deliberation, he ran his hands up and down again, ever closer to the center, but never close enough.
When his thumbs finally brushed that special spot, I gave a soft moan and let my eyelids flutter shut.
His voice drifted over me like a warm caress. "You know what I'm gonna do, don't you?"
My mouth felt almost too tingly to speak. "What?"
"I'm gonna make you mine." As he said it, he slid a warm finger inside of me, soon followed by another.
I whimpered in mindless bliss. Oh, I was his, all right. Probably, I'd been his for longer than either of us knew. Breathlessly, I said, "I know."
"No," he said. "You don't. Not yet. But you will."
As he talked, his fingers stroked me like I'd never been stroked before. Inside and out, I wasn't even sure how he did it. I just knew that it felt achingly good.
I gazed up at him and whispered, "I want you."
With a smile in his voice, he replied, "I know."
I stifled a giggle. "Hey—"
"But not as much as you will."
"What does that mean?"
But soon, he showed me. His fingers kept on moving, teasing and coaxing, bringing me just to the cliff and then back again. He kept me there on the edge longer than I might've thought possible, and soon I was a quivering, breathless mess.
In a blissful haze, I recalled the scene from the movie. Through most of it, his character had been almost fully clothed, and so had she. But he'd played her like a violin, making her want him so bad she was practically crying.
Now, I knew how exactly she felt, because if I didn't have him, like this instant, I was pretty sure I'd die of longing. There was only one problem. I was loving what he was doing far too much to object.
He was driving me crazy. And I was loving every second of it.
Just when I thought I couldn’t stand it another minute, he reached for the button of his pants.
I made a move to push myself up. "Here, let me."
But he shook his head. "Not a chance."
"But why?"
"Because I want you just the way you are."
And I wanted him, any way I could get him.
When he slid down his pants and freed himself from their constraints, I sucked in a nervous breath. He w
as massively hard and even larger than he'd been in my fantasies.
And that was saying something.
He yanked me further down on the bed until my pelvis was right at the edge, and then, after one long moment of anticipation, he entered me, slowly at first, and then with a certainty that felt like heaven on earth.
A breathless moan escaped my lips, and just like that, I shuddered with a long, quivering release. "Oh, my God. Yes." Suddenly, I felt nearly too limp to move, too sated, too happy. And best of all, it wasn't even over.
Sounding nearly breathless himself, he replied, "I know." His hands cupped my ass, keeping me steady as he filled me nearly to the breaking point over and over until I shuddered yet again. This time, he shuddered with me, telling me yet again that I was his, and only his.
And I was.
But the night was far from over. After that first time, we undressed each other slowly and showered together in his huge bathroom suite. Afterward, we went downstairs where he had our long-delayed dinner, microwaved, but ten times more delicious when flavored with the happiness I felt deep in stomach and down to my toes.
We made love again afterward, this time slowly and gently. It was so different from the first time, but just as amazing in its own tender way.
I fell asleep in his arms, wondering if it was all just a dream. If so, I decided, I never wanted to wake up, because some things were simply too sweet for this world.
And this was one of them.
Chapter 84
Flynn
She was adorable even when she slept. I was propped up on my elbow, lying beside her on the bed. I'd been watching her for at least a half-hour as the morning sun filtered in through the bedroom windows.
Her hair was a tumbled mess, flowing over her naked shoulders and onto the pillow, just like it had last night when I'd taken her for the second time, naked and sweet, like she was now.
Her breasts were exposed, and her nipples were rosy in the filtered light. So were her lips, so pink and so sweet. I wanted to kiss her, but I held back, knowing there'd been plenty of time for that later.
I loved her.
I'd told her only the one time, back at the restaurant. She hadn't said it in return, but she didn't need to. Last night, I'd seen it in her eyes and heard it in her voice.
She was a goner, whether she realized it or not.