by Karin Tabke
They both dug in. Flynn nodded in approval when Pink didn’t pick at the food like most women. She ate like she did everything else, with gusto.
“So tell me what you bartered for all those years ago?” Flynn asked.
She popped a fry into her mouth and Flynn watched as she slowly chewed it. “My body in exchange for food and tequila.”
Flynn choked on the piece of corned beef he’d just swallowed. “Liar,” he croaked. He took a sip of his water. “Truth, Pink.”
“Jimmy’s son Jamie was struggling with his math. Since I was a starving student, I tutored him.”
“The same Jamie who just mauled you onstage?”
Laughing, she dunked an onion ring into ranch dressing. “The same.”
“So what kind of math did a molester such as he struggle with?”
“Statistics.”
Wow. “What did you major in?”
“I double-majored. Art and legal studies. I start law school in the fall.”
You could have knocked Flynn over with a feather.
“Where did you go after your mother died?” he asked.
“The foster system. I booked the day I turned eighteen.”
“You put yourself through college?”
“Yup.”
“I’m impressed.” Beyond impressed. She’d been dealt a shitty hand, and instead of allowing it to drag her down, she’d kicked its ass. Never once had she complained to him about her life’s hardships. She had just rolled up her sleeves and gotten to work. He was not worthy.
“You should be, I’m not just a ding-dong cocktail server at a strip bar.”
He reached for her hand, then retracted his, remembering her “no touch” condition. “I never thought you were a ding-dong.” He chuckled. “But I did meet you at a strip club.”
“Indeed you did, and I’m damn good at what I do.”
“You’ll get no argument from me on that.” Flynn set his fork down and asked the burning question. “Do you like it?”
She smiled, her dimple popping. “Maybe a little.”
“What parts?”
“Knowing I have something men want but can’t have. Then there’s the part of me that gives my father the single finger salute each time I put that bikini on. I make no apologies for those feelings.”
“You shouldn’t.” His comment surprised him, but he meant it. That was part of who she was. To tamp it down would be akin to trimming a bird’s wings.
“Tell me about your mom and dad,” she said.
For a long moment Flynn thought about whether he would answer her and if he chose to, how. Then he decided that if he were going to, he might as well tell her the truth. “My mother died of a broken heart. My father, who is still alive, is living as if she never existed.”
“What did he do?”
Flynn laughed, the sound caustic. “He liked his women a little on the wild side. Strippers, to be exact. He brought them home, forced my brother, sister, and I to sit at the same table with them while my mother cried upstairs.”
“Oh, Flynn, I—that’s awful.” Her head snapped back. “You must really despise me.”
Was she crazy? “Why would you say that?”
“Because we met in a strip club and I stripped?”
Flynn reached for her hand and this time he didn’t stop himself from touching her. “You’re not like those women. Those women were predators. They came on to Mal and me to get more out of my father.” Running his fingertips along her knuckles, he continued, “You’re not self-serving, selfish, or conniving.” He brought her hand to his lips. “You see the bad in people like me and yet,” he pressed his lips to her skin, “you still believe we have good in us.”
“You’re not a bad guy, Flynn,” she breathed.
“I want to do bad things to you, Isa.”
His groin tightened when her nostrils flared and her fingers tightened around his.
She swallowed hard and licked her lips. Flynn groaned. “If you let me do all the things to you that I wanted to do, I’d never let you go, and you’d hate me for that.”
Pink nodded, her eyes full and dark. Her pulse beat wildly in her neck. The urge to press his lips to it was almost overwhelming. “I’m going to pay the bill, Pink. I want to go home.”
“And then what?” she asked, a raspy edge to her breathless voice. His dick strained against his jeans.
“The bad guy wants to take you to his bed and strip you down.”
“And the good guy?”
Flynn grinned. “He wants to take you to his bed and strip you down, just more politely.”
Pink’s lips formed a silent “Oh.”
Flynn stood, dug for his wallet, pulled out several bills, and tossed them onto the table. He grabbed her hand, and said, “Don’t let either one of them near you.”
Chapter Twenty-nine
Izzy didn’t. Let Flynn’s angel or devil near her. Saying good night to him and walking down the hall from where he stood at his bedroom door watching her had been ridiculously hard. That it was so hard confused her. Her yo-yoing feelings, should she or shouldn’t she, confused her. She accepted how she felt about Flynn, God help her; she wished the attraction would lesson, but no, every minute she spent with him made her want to spend more minutes with him. Intimate minutes. She craved his hands on her. She wanted him to smile for her and her only, and tell her he would lasso the moon and give her the stars if she but asked for them. She was, she realized, falling head over heels in love with a man who refused to feel.
She was hopeless, and yet, hopeful. Afraid. If she threw herself at him, he would take what she was offering, just as her father had taken from her mother. Flynn never gave her what she wanted in return. Not even a crumb. Izzy couldn’t, wouldn’t, live like that; in a constant state of yearning for a man who didn’t care enough to give part of himself to her.
Flinging the sheet from her restless body, Izzy listened to the wind build outside. A March storm was rolling in. The winds had begun to pick up as they rode home from Jimmy’s. A branch scratched along the glass of the French door. Izzy started. The dark shadow of it looked like a large arm reaching over the railing. The scratching grew louder, rain pelted the glass. Mesmerized by the gyrations of the tree branches as they were tossed around by the wind, Izzy’s imagination ran wild. What if the guy in the van had followed her here? Did Flynn have an alarm system? Yes, he did; there was a large control pad just inside the garage door and one at the top of the wide stairway. Had he armed it? Of course he would have. Flynn was diligent that way. He probably slept with a loaded gun.
A loud thump against the French door shook it, the handle moving up and down as if someone was on the other side, trying to force it open. Izzy leapt from the bed and ran down the hall to Flynn’s room.
“Flynn,” she cried as he came walking out of what she assumed was his bathroom. “I think there’s someone on my patio!”
Wordlessly, he grabbed his gun and phone from the nightstand and ushered her into the bathroom. Before handing her the phone he pulled a number up on it. Handing her the phone, he said, “Lock the door. If I’m not back in two minutes, call this number.” He turned without waiting for a reply and headed out into the hall.
Izzy shut the door and locked it, then counted down the seconds.
With five seconds to spare, Flynn called to her. “It’s me, Isa, open the door.”
Relieved, she unlocked the door and stood shaking, unable to move. She wasn’t cut out for this stuff. “What was it?”
“Branch broke from the big eucalyptus out back and landed on the door, jamming the handle from the outside.” He caught her chin in his hand and notched it up to look at her. “If anything you’re safer now than ever. No one is getting into your room via the balcony.”
Still shaky, she nodded, not trusting her voice. She wanted to cry. Like a little girl. If she had a blankie and a stuffed toy, she’d want them, too.
“Do you want some water or something?” he asked.
As she moved past him, he reached out and gently took her arm, pulling her back toward him. “You didn’t disturb me.”
“Okay.” She didn’t know what to say.
“Come on, I’ll walk you back to your room.”
When he moved past her, Izzy stood rooted to the floor. Suddenly, she didn’t want to go back to her room.
Flynn set his gun down on the nightstand and continued toward the door. He stopped at his doorway and turned around to face her when he realized she wasn’t following him. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m afraid,” she blurted.
His features tightened, but he nodded and approached her. “How about if you sleep in here tonight?” he quietly asked her.
“In your bed?”
“Yes.”
“Where will you sleep?”
“I’d like to sleep in my bed, too.”
“But—”
“Look, Isa, I’m not an animal. I can keep my hands to myself if you promise to keep yours to yourself.” His eyes twinkled playfully. Problem was she didn’t like either one of those scenarios.
“Okay.”
He walked her to the right side of his king-sized bed and pulled the covers down for her. She was wearing a pair of pink thong panties and a white midriff T-shirt. Flynn looked up at the ceiling when she pulled her legs up and in, then he covered her up to her chin.
Her predicament wasn’t much better. He was bare-chested, wearing a pair of light gray drawstring pajama bottoms. The thick outline of his penis clearly visible. He turned the lamp off and slid into the bed. A soft glow from the outside lights illuminated the shadows. The only sound other than their breathing was the storm raging outside. It didn’t come close to the one raging in her lower extremities. If there were no consequences, Izzy would slide over and take a ride on Flynn’s wild side.
As she lay staring at the ceiling, Izzy’s heart thudded wildly against her chest. Blood pumped through her veins. Her nipples tightened. “If we had sex tonight what would happen tomorrow?” she asked.
“We’d probably want to do it again.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Long minutes passed. Rain hit the windows like bullets. The wind howled furiously. The tempest inside of her whipped itself into a frenzy. Squeezing her eyes shut, Izzy fought the battle between her body, heart, and brain. She was not her mother, she told herself. Sex with her had strings. Without them, she would end up in an emotional free fall.
“So we’re not having sex?” Flynn asked.
Izzy punched him.
“So that’s a no?”
Angry, she rolled over facing him. “Why do you bait me like that?”
“Me bait you? I was minding my own business when you asked me what would happen if we had sex tonight.”
“Okay, you’ve got me there.”
He smiled, his white teeth glowing in the dimness of the room. “It’s not where I’d like to have you.”
Izzy stepped over her self-imposed line. Knowingly. Willingly. In a court of law she could not claim coercion. “Tell me where you’d like to have me?”
He scooted toward her. Barely a foot separated them now. “Are you sure?”
Swallowing hard, she nodded.
“On one condition,” Flynn said.
“What’s that?”
“You take off your panties and shirt.”
“Okay,” she whispered. The sharp intake of his breath when she agreed, stirred her blood. Arching, Izzy pulled the shirt over her head. Her nipples were already stiffly aroused. Turning to face him, she caught her breath at the hunger in his blazing eyes.
“You’re fucking gorgeous.”
Warmth spread through her at his praise. When she lifted her bottom to slide her panties off, she watched his jaw tighten. Laughing, she sling-shotted them across the room.
Flynn’s gaze slowly trailed up from her smooth mound to her belly, over her breasts to her lips, then her eyes. “You’re not getting those back.”
“I have more.”
Moving toward her, he lowered his head to her belly, not touching her but close enough that she felt his body heat. As he moved lower, Izzy parted her legs just enough to give him a peek. She was a wanton. So what?
“You smell good enough to eat, Isa,” he breathed, his hot breath teasing her mound.
She squirmed, the movement catching the edge of his chin. Izzy groaned at the contact. Flynn moved back and on his side, with his hand holding up his head, and said, “If I could touch you, Isa, first I’d slide my fingers through your hair. It’s so soft. I love the feel of it against my skin.”
Izzy slowly ran her fingers through her hair like he described. “Like this?”
“Yes. Then I’d trail my fingertips across your brows, then your eyelids, over your nose to those lush pink lips I could kiss all night long.”
She trailed her fingertip along her brows, then her eyelids to her nose and down along her parted lips. “Like that?”
“Just like that.”
“Then what would you do?”
“Lower my lips to yours, slide my tongue into you, taste you.”
Sliding her tongue along her bottom lip, then her top lip, parting her lips, begging for his. “Like that?” she breathed.
“Yes, just like that.”
“I like it when you kiss me,” she admitted.
“I like kissing you, too.”
Izzy’s eyes closed as she imagined Flynn moving over her and kissing her deeply.
“As I was kissing you, my hands would gently stroke your breasts, tugging at your nipples, making them hard. Making you arch and beg me to suck them.”
Izzy’s hands slid up to her breasts, cupping their heavy firmness. Her back lifted off the mattress when she pinched her nipples, eliciting a low moan from her and from Flynn. “Like this?”
“Yes, baby, just like that, I’d squeeze and lick and suck those beautiful tits of yours until you cried for me to stop.”
“I’d never want you to stop,” she rasped.
“My mouth is sliding down to the dip in your belly, your pussy is dying for me to give it some attention. “
Imagining him doing just that, Izzy’s hips rose as her hands slid down her belly.
“When my lips lock on your clit, you can’t stand the pleasure of it. You cry out, begging me to suck you harder.”
Izzy made a small animal sound of pleasure at his words. Her fingers swept to her clitoris. In a slow swirl she touched it, biting her lip as shards of delight riveted through her.
“Flynn,” she breathed, “like this?”
“Yes, baby, just like that.” His breath brushed along her belly and the top of her hand. “Spread your thighs, I want to look at you.”
Swallowing, Izzy parted her thighs, and as she did, her fingers slid down her slick cleft.
“You are so wet and pink. I want to kiss you there. Lick you, suck you, slide my fingers deep into you.”
Arching again, Izzy slid a finger into herself. Her body clenched around her. “I wish it was you,” she gasped, slowly moving it in and out as her other hand rubbed her swollen clitoris. There was something insanely erotic and intimate, knowing as she gave herself pleasure she was giving him pleasure, too. In many ways, baring herself this way was more intimate than intercourse. If only he would do the same…
Opening her eyes, she caught Flynn’s fiery gaze. By his movement, she knew he was stroking himself. Unable not to look, her gaze dropped. His big hand was wrapped around his thick erection. The veins of his hand were as pronounced as the thick veins of his penis. Heat sluiced through her veins like quicksilver. “That’s so hot.”
“You make me this way, baby. I can’t look at you without getting hard.”
Biting her bottom lip, Izzy pushed back into her pillow and stroked herself faster. Her eyes locked with Flynn’s. A thin she
en of perspiration glistened on his forehead as his hand moved faster. Izzy’s kept pace with his. The air became heavy, her breathing labored as frissons of desire built within her.
“Scream my name when you come, Isa,” he commanded softly.
“I’m coming,” she gasped and closed her eyes.
“Open your eyes, baby. I want to see you come.”
Izzy opened her eyes. Flynn bit his lip, sucking in a deep breath. “Fuck, I’m there.” His body tightened and Izzy couldn’t help it, she looked down and watched his big beautiful cock erupt in his hand. The muscles in his arms and neck corded as semen poured from him. “Isa,” he said roughly. “Damn you.”
His words pushed her over the brink. Pushing back into the mattress, her body exploded from the inside out. “Flynn!” she screamed as the tension shot through her. Oh, God that felt so good. Wildly her body gyrated as she came in an outrageous, wanton, uninhibited flourish.
Fighting for breath, her body twitched as residual shock waves shimmered through her. The storm that raged outside didn’t compare to the one that raged in her heart. Her hand twitched at her side. When Flynn’s big warm one grasped it, she caught herself from rolling over to him.
“I can’t believe I just did that,” she said, breathless, gulping for air.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yes.” Turning to him she asked, “Are you?”
He smiled and said, “I’ll let you know in a minute.”
He reached with his right hand to the box of tissues on the nightstand and cleaned himself up. Then he pulled her into his arms. When she resisted, he said, “I think we’ve gone a little past your conditions, Pink.”
Lifting up to look at him, she flashed him a sheepish grin. “That’s not what I’m worried about.” His dark brows rose in question. She elaborated. “I like it when you touch me. Too much.”
His full lips twitched. “I like touching you more than I ever thought I’d like touching a woman. So we’re even.” He pulled her against him.
This time she snuggled against his warmth. Running her fingertips through the dark hair of his chest she said, “This doesn’t mean we can have sex.”
“Explain what just happened?”