by Marie Force
For a moment, I’m too stunned by the raw desire in his voice to formulate a reply. But then I realize he’s waiting for me to say something. “All that from a kiss?”
Nodding, he touches his lips to mine in a tentative caress. “And that’s just the sneak peek. There’s so much more where that came from.”
“I want that. I want all of it. I want to be the woman you described. I want to be her with you.”
“You can have anything you want from me. Anything at all. You only have to ask.”
“That’s the hard part for me.”
“Tell me what you want, sweetheart. Tell me so I can give it to you.”
“What we did the other night…”
He cups my breast and runs his thumb back and forth over the nipple. “This?”
I nod because he’s stolen my words with the subtle gesture that sets off a firestorm inside my body.
“You liked that?”
“Yes,” I say, covering his hand with my own when the sensations become too intense. After a deep breath, I remove my hand, hoping he’ll continue.
“More?”
“Yes.” I’m finding I don’t possess more than that one word to tell him what I want. I’ve never had to say the words before.
Flynn runs his finger along the top slopes of my breasts. “Bra on or off?”
I look up to find him watching me in that intense way that has all my walls crumbling down around me. “Off.”
He reaches behind me to release the hooks, and my breasts spill free of the tight confines of the cups. Leaving a trail of goose bumps in his path, Flynn pushes the strap down my arm.
My only goal is to get through this without having another meltdown. I want to be like any other woman being touched by a man she’s come to care about. I don’t want to be a victim. Not anymore. But then he cups my breast, dragging his thumb back and forth over the sensitive tip, and my mind is wiped clean of every thought that doesn’t involve the sublime sensations that spiral through me. I arch into him, wanting to be closer.
His lips close over my nipple, drawing it into the heat of his mouth as his tongue swirls around it. The sensory overload is intense, but I stay focused on the present rather than spiraling into the past the way I did the last time we got this far. I want more. I want everything, but I’m so afraid I won’t be able to follow through when the moment is upon us.
“Why did you just get all tense?” he asks.
“I… I don’t want it to happen again.”
“Do you feel like it’s going to?”
I draw in a sharp deep breath. “No, but I’m still afraid.”
“If it happens a hundred times, we’ll keep trying until it doesn’t.”
Here, in my arms, looking at me with affection and tenderness and desire, is the man I never expected to find. He’s patient and kind and understanding. Despite my intense desire to get through this without them, my eyes fill with tears anyway.
“Hey! What’s this? What happened?”
“It’s… It’s you. What you said. It was perfect.”
“So these are good tears?”
“The best kind.” I close my eyes, keeping them tightly shut until the tears are contained. And then I open them to find him watching over me. “Could we…”
“What, sweetheart? Just say it.”
“Could we keep going?” I told him I wouldn’t have sex with him unless we’re married, and I meant that. That’s been my rule for eight long years, a rule I’ve hidden behind because I never expected to get close enough to any man to actually consider marrying one. But now… Now, everything is different, and he’s the reason.
“Help me out here. How far are we talking?”
“A little further?”
“I can do that.” He arranges me so I’m lying flat on my back and settles between my legs, leaning over me to give my other breast some attention.
I grasp a handful of his hair, needing to hold on to something as he sets off another frantic wave of desire. Then his hand is on my leg, moving from my knee to my inner thigh, opening me. I hold my breath, waiting to see what he’ll do next.
“Breathe, sweetheart. Try to relax. I promise I’ll never hurt you. Not in a million years.”
I do what I’m told, drawing in greedy breaths as his hand creeps closer to my core. I don’t know whether I want to pull him closer or push him away. While his hand tortures me with the slow slide, his lips pull and tug on my nipple, splitting my focus squarely in half. I suspect that’s his intention, to scramble my brain so completely there’s no possibility of going to the bad place. There’s only pleasure and desire.
“Doing okay?” he asks gruffly as his tongue swirls around my nipple.
“Mmm.”
“Words, Nat. Give me the words.”
“Yes! I’m okay. Flynn…”
“What, honey?”
“Touch me. Please touch me.” I’ve never been so desperate for anything in my life as I am for his touch.
His hand is warm and large as he does exactly what I want, pressing his fingers against the place that throbs for him, with only the thin silk of my panties between us. He knows exactly where I need him most, and I cry out from the pleasure that scorches me.
Lifting my hips, I silently ask for more, but he distracts me with another deep pull on my nipple. The combination has me climbing toward some sort of summit, something dark and mysterious and altogether out of reach until right now. He doesn’t do anything more than press rhythmically against me as he continues to torment my nipple. The pleasure builds and grows until I feel like I’m going to explode from within. “Flynn…”
“It’s okay, baby,” he whispers. “Let it happen.” He doesn’t stop until I’m crying out from the overwhelming pleasure that detonates from between my legs and travels through my body like a lightning strike. “God, that was amazing. You’re so beautiful. I can’t wait to be inside you when that happens.”
I cling to him, breathing hard as he brings me down with gentle strokes of his fingers. His words permeate the fog that has invaded my brain, and for the first time since I was attacked, the thought of allowing a man inside me doesn’t make me cringe with horror or disgust. It makes me burn with longing, especially as I feel him hard and throbbing against my leg.
“Talk to me, sweetheart. Tell me what you’re thinking.” His voice is rough against my ear, making me shiver.
“I think you’ve wiped my brain clear of all thoughts that don’t involve you.”
“Excellent,” he says, chuckling. “Then my work here is finished.”
I push my pelvis against the hard thrust of his erection. “Not everyone got to finish.” Running my hand down the muscular contours of his chest, I summon the courage to take what I want. “Could I… Would it be okay…”
“Natalie,” he says through gritted teeth, “Christ, do whatever you want to me. Touch me anywhere. Any time you want.”
“Any time?” I ask, smiling up at him.
He responds with a savage kiss, seeming to pour every ounce of pent-up desire into one blistering kiss. I’m so distracted that, for a second, I nearly forget what caused him to kiss me this way. Then the insistent press of his erection against my leg reminds me of what I wanted to do. Without breaking the kiss, I slide my hand down over the front of his well-worn jeans where I find him long, hard and thick.
Groaning, he comes up for air wearing an agonized expression I’ve never seen before. He covers my hand with his and shows me how to touch him, his eyes rolling back in his head when I follow his lead. I’ve never willingly touched a man there before, and it’s a revelation to watch such a strong man become powerless because of me.
Then he pulls my hand away. “I can’t.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all.”
“Why did you stop me?”
“I can’t take any more.”
Suddenly, I’m swamped with regret and dismay. How long can a vital, virile man like him de
ny his desires? How long before he loses interest in the traumatized woman who can’t give him what he needs?
“Whatever you’re thinking right now, knock it off.”
His terse tone takes me by surprise, and I try to pull away from him.
He holds me closer. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it that way. I can tell you’re putting thoughts in my head that simply aren’t there. I’m not thinking about anything other than how much I love being with you. I swear.”
“But you want more.”
“Of course I do, Natalie. You’re sweet and gorgeous and sexy and smart. I’m only human. I want you. I’ll never deny that. But I’m on your schedule here.”
“How long will you wait for me to get over my issues?”
“I don’t expect you’ll ever completely get over what happened to you. Who would?” As he speaks, he runs a finger over my cheek. “There’s no timetable. We’ve known each other a week, and I’ve loved every second I’ve gotten to spend with you. The physical stuff is only part of it. I like talking to you as much as I like kissing you. I can’t wait to introduce you to my family and to spend this weekend with you. I can’t wait for everything with you. It doesn’t matter if it takes a week, a month, a year… I’m not going anywhere for as long as you want to be with me.”
I have so many emotions swirling around inside me—and so many questions. “Could I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“You told me not to believe everything I read, and I’m trying to do that.”
“But?”
“You’ve had a lot of girlfriends, women…”
“I like women. I’d never deny that either.”
“You like to have sex with women.”
“Yes.”
“A lot of sex.”
“Sometimes.”
“But not with me?”
He leans his forehead against mine, his chest hair tickling my breasts. “I hope someday you and I will have a lot of sex. I hope someday you and I will start and end each day wrapped in each other’s arms. I hope maybe someday, you’ll be able to do whatever you want with me any time you want to do it and know that you’ll always be welcome and safe in my arms, in my bed, in my life. And because I know when all that happens it’ll be extraordinary, to say the least, I’m willing to wait. For as long as it takes, I’ll wait.” He kisses me. “I’ll wait for you.”
“Flynn… How can you say that? You have no idea what a mess I am.”
“You’re not a mess. You’re beautiful, and I adore you. Something terrible happened to you, but that doesn’t define you.”
“It has. For the last eight years, it’s defined me.”
“That doesn’t mean it has to forever. There’s so much more to you than that one incident, and I’m going to help you see that. If it takes the rest of my life, you’re going to see what I see when I look at you.”
I reach up to caress his clean-shaven face. “Does it scare you to feel that way about someone?”
“It scares the hell out of me, but not for the reasons you think.” He pauses before he continues. “It scares me that you don’t feel the same way, that you’ll try to leave me rather than trusting that I’m sincere when I tell you I truly care about you and I can see my life unfolding with you by my side. I can see it.”
“I do feel the same way, and it scares me, too. How is that possible when we just met six days ago? If you had told me last Friday, I’d be on a private plane, half-naked with a guy—any guy—I would’ve said you were crazy. But now… Now it doesn’t seem so crazy.”
“No, it doesn’t. Sometimes these things just happen, Natalie. Does it make sense? Not really, but does it matter if it makes sense when it feels so good?”
“Has this happened to you before?”
“Never. Not like this.”
My heart beats faster in light of his confession.
“What else do you want to know?” he asks with a hint of amusement lighting his eyes.
“When was the last time a woman made you wait to have sex with her?”
“Other than tonight?”
I poke him in the belly, making him grunt with laughter. “Seriously.”
“It’s been a while, but a little dose of humility might be good for me.”
“No one makes you wait for anything.”
“No, they don’t, but can’t you see how refreshing it is for me to have to work for what I want with you? To have to put in the time and the effort and the care to make sure that when we get there, we’re both in the right place at the right time?” He gathers me in close to him. “Stop thinking so much. Holding you this way is better than sex with other women who meant nothing to me. Try to relax and go with it. When the time is right to move forward, we’ll know.”
His words and the sincerity behind them bring me the kind of peace that’s been largely elusive in my life since I left home. Running from the past is exhausting, especially when you can never run fast enough or far enough to truly escape the demons. But here in his arms, with the low hum of the plane’s engines lulling me, I’m able to close my eyes with the comfort of knowing he’s there, and he’s not going anywhere. Not now, anyway.
Chapter 12
If a man could die from unspent desire, I’d be on my deathbed. Watching her come apart in my arms was the single most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced, particularly because I suspect I just gave her the first orgasm of her life. What an honor and a thrill it is to hold her and to feel her beginning to trust me.
I caress her soft skin in small circles as she drops off into a light sleep.
I truly meant every word I said to her, but she’s right about one thing—I’m not accustomed to denying my stronger-than-average sex drive. With my need for her still pulsing through my body, my cock hard and throbbing, I have to get myself together.
Moving slowly so I don’t disturb her, I get up from the sofa and cover her with the blanket. Her lips move as she settles into her nap, and she’s completely adorable.
In the small bathroom, I splash cold water on my face, trying to summon the control I need for her. Thinking about what she told me earlier, that she’d been attacked and raped as a fifteen-year-old, makes me crazy with rage and thirsty for revenge on her behalf. I want to find the guy and cause him twice the pain he caused her. I want to know if he ever paid for what he did. Is he rotting in jail where he belongs or living his life like nothing ever happened?
The latter possibility makes me seethe. I have so many questions but can’t ask them without venturing into territory she’s marked off-limits. I could hire someone and have the answers I crave within days, but I won’t do that either. I’d never violate her privacy that way.
The thought of her turning on me is worse than not knowing. But it pains me not to know the full story. How can I protect her if I don’t know my enemy? This is all new territory for me—these intense feelings for a woman and the knowledge that I’d kill to protect her.
I’ve always been a live-and-let-live kind of guy. I’ve created a monster career without leaving a trail of enemies behind me. My father taught me early on that ours is a small community with a long memory. “Be a gentleman in all your dealings,” he advised, “and never forget the director you disdain today could be the producer you’re wooing tomorrow.”
It was good advice and words I live by. Sure, I’ve had my detractors and people who looked on with envy as my career took off while theirs stalled. I’ve had fellow actors and others in the business snidely imply that I am where I am because of who my parents are. I’ve always shrugged off that shit. Did my parents give me a leg up when I first ventured into the business? Without a doubt. But I’ve done the rest, and I know how hard I’ve worked for everything that has come my way.
But I already know I’ll never work harder for anything than I will for the future I want with the gorgeous young woman currently sleeping on the sofa. I grip the edge of the countertop as I summon the innate control I need to manage thi
s situation. I stare into the mirror at my reflection, surprised to realize the man looking back at me seems unfamiliar in many ways.
He wears a hint of fear in his eyes, and an unusual amount of tension tightens his jaw. It’s not lost on me that I’m the last guy in the universe Natalie should be with. When you’re into the kind of sex I want and need, there’s no place for a woman traumatized by sex in the past. It’s a testament to how strongly I already feel for her that I’m willing to put aside my own needs to tend to hers. But will I be able to do that forever? I can’t answer that question, which is why I fear I’m setting up both of us for disaster.
My ringing cell phone tears me out of my uneasy contemplation. Surprised to have reception at altitude, I withdraw the phone from my back pocket and take the call from Hayden. “What’s up?”
“Where are you?”
“In the air. You?”
“Just landed. We’re hanging at the club tonight. Will we see you?”
“Not tonight. I’ve got some stuff to do when I land.”
“Not tonight, not last night, not all last week. What’s the deal, Flynn? Was it something we said?”
Well, sort of… I thought it, but I’d never say it. For all his pain-in-the-ass qualities, Hayden is my oldest and closest friend. “Don’t be stupid. Nothing to do with you. But listen, while I have you, I’ve been thinking I’d like to do postproduction in New York rather than LA.” A long pause follows my statement. “Hayden?”
“I’m here. I’m just wondering where the hell you are.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You hate the cold, Flynn, almost as much as I do. You hightail it back to LA the second you wrap a film—every single time. And now you’re telling me you want to spend the next few months freezing our asses off in New York when we could be surfing in LA? And you wonder what’s wrong with me?”