Highest Bidder (Fanboys Book 2)

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Highest Bidder (Fanboys Book 2) Page 7

by Marie Johnston


  Now, irritation bloomed that John wasn’t satisfied with a verbal conversation and emails, that he insisted on meeting with Flynn in person. Flynn would bottle-feed him the data as fast as he could and get back here before Tilly dunked herself again.

  He left Tilly to jog upstairs and change into trunks. He’d love to wear absolutely nothing in the hot tub, but that’d only get him where he shouldn’t be.

  Back downstairs, he couldn’t find her in the kitchen. Swearing under his breath, he headed straight for the patio that held the tub.

  She was sighing, her arms thrown out to the sides, luxuriating in the swirling water.

  That girl didn’t wait for anyone.

  He slipped in and she didn’t move. Either she didn’t care, or she hadn’t heard him over the jets. He was content to watch her pleasure.

  She wiggled and floated her legs up, expressing her delight as freely as she had when eating.

  With a long exhale, she opened her eyes and yelped. “When’d you get here?”

  He chuckled and eased farther into the water. Heat seeped into his bones, and the long-standing stress that kept his muscles tight oozed out of his fingertips. Never had he relaxed so fully.

  “I might just fall asleep,” she murmured, her lids drifting shut.

  They soaked for a few minutes before she zeroed her gaze back on him. “I’m really sorry about earlier.”

  Dangerous territory. He gave her his most dazzling smile to take her mind off earlier. “Don’t worry about it.”

  She didn’t return his grin but seemed to consider him. “I won’t go in the lake without telling you again.”

  He shoved off the bench and floated over next to her. She straightened, brows raised, her gaze sweeping his shoulders and chest. She wasn’t going to drop his reaction about her swimming alone. He’d expected her to be curious; the accident had happened before high school and no one remembered he even had a sister.

  Settling next to her, he threw an arm across the back. She scooted a few inches away so she could face him without burying her face in his shoulder, which he wouldn’t have minded.

  When had cuddling Tilly Johnson become an idea?

  “When did it happen?”

  She was asking about his sister’s accident of course, and she probably assumed Lynne had died. He’d rather let her. His own feelings for that nightmarish day sixteen years ago hadn’t been resolved and nothing he’d done since then had helped. “Some summer before you changed your name.”

  She frowned and narrowed her eyes. He could’ve stayed evasive, but she was just as averse to talking about herself as he was.

  She licked her bottom lip and looked away. “Before high school then?”

  “Yes,” he whispered, gazing at her strong profile. The ends of her hair were wet from the water, baring her graceful neck, a neck he wanted to nibble.

  But it bothered him. Why had she changed her name? And why wouldn’t she tell him? When they were sixteen, he could’ve snapped his fingers and she would’ve written a damn book to answer any question he had. Was he losing his appeal?

  Anxiety churned in his stomach. After the deliberately atrocious sex, he should be happy. But what if it had worked? What if he had stomped out her crush on him?

  Suddenly, knowing the reason behind her name change became the most important thing ever. No—her telling him the reason was what counted.

  “Who all knows about why you changed your name?”

  A moment of panic rippled over face and she clasped her hands together under the water. “A few people, I guess.”

  She was getting nervous. Afraid she’d bolt, he edged closer, kept his voice low, steady. “Like your friends now? Or friends from school?”

  She cast him a droll look. “There were never any friends from school.” Her breath caught, and she tensed.

  He turned enough to snake an arm around her and pull her to him. She tilted her head up and he dropped a kiss on her mouth.

  “Mara?”

  “What?” She exhaled, her body going molten against his.

  He dropped another kiss along her jawline. “Does Mara know?”

  Tilly dropped her head back to give him more access. “No. I haven’t known her very long.”

  “So it’s deeply personal?” He nibbled down her neck, relishing her tiny shiver.

  “It’s private, yes.”

  “And you don’t talk about private things?” He feathered his hand along her torso, fighting the urge to rip away her swimsuit. But he liked it too much.

  “I don’t like to talk about it.”

  He clamped his mouth over a pulse point on her neck and swirled his tongue around it. She squirmed, her legs moving farther apart. He used the move to slide his fingers along the seam of her leg until he reached her sex.

  “Flynn…”

  He smiled against her skin. “Tell me, Tulip. Why’d you change your name?” Her body went rigid again until he licked a path back up to her mouth. She groaned when he caught her mouth at the same time he dipped under the fabric to spread her folds and circle her nub. He pulled back. “Tulip.”

  “Don’t call me that!” Her flare of frustration rocked her against his hand and her eyelids fluttered. “It…it makes me remember how cruel my dad was.”

  Flynn jerked back. Not the answer he’d expected. He cursed himself for never having considered she might have such a serious answer.

  She gripped his wrist and brought it back. “Can you help me forget?” Her other arm threaded through his hair and shoved his mouth back to hers.

  Yes. He’d help her forget. Picking up where he left off, he massaged her clit. She rode his hand, sending gentle laps of water up to the edge of the hot tub. His erection throbbed, begging for more each time her hip nudged it.

  Their tongues twined. He couldn’t break the kiss if he tried, she had a ferocious hold on him. She drew her knees up as he tightened his hold on her with his other arm.

  Their bodies bumped and she bucked. She wanted more. He moved his hand lower, hitting her clit with his thumb and threading a finger inside.

  A low moan escaped them both while they kissed. She was as soft as velvet and burning hot. Her hand was still clamped on his wrist. Thrusting was difficult, but he didn’t have to do much. She clutched him and her sex squeezed. How he wanted his cock inside, but he owed her this—for insisting the story of her name and for leaving her unsatisfied the night before.

  He stroked her in sync with his tongue and his hand. Chicks seemed to like that move, but Tilly more than liked it. She writhed like it was his superpower. He totally needed that after his reputation-destroying performance.

  She broke their kiss with a gasp, her body arching back. He lined kisses along the cleavage bared by the water.

  “Flynn— I— Yes!” Her body went tight with another cry, and his hand flooded with her heat as she shuddered her orgasm.

  He lifted his head to watch his handiwork. Her eyes were squeezed closed, her mouth dropped open, her legs spread wide. Damn, what a fine sight.

  She released him and sat up. He mourned the loss of her body heat, even in the steaming water.

  “Whoa…that was…that was nice.” She laid the back of her hand against her forehead. “Wow, it’s really hot in here.” Blinking at him like she’d forgotten he was there, her red, kiss-swollen lips formed a timid smile. “Now that was more like it.”

  “More like what?” Of course. “Oh.”

  Her eyes flew wide. “Oh. I mean—”

  He chuckled. Leave it to Tilly to actually feel bad for pointing out his failure to pleasure her, though she didn’t know he’d set out to do just that. “I know what you mean. About last night—”

  “I didn’t mean it was bad. It was…”

  “Bad.” If by bad, he meant losing his load after a few thrusts. “For you.”

  Her expression was perplexed. “It wasn’t bad for you? Oh, shit, I mean—”

  “Tilly.” At least he wasn’t the one stumbling over
his words this time. “It looks like I need to prove my sexual prowess.” He stood, the water splashing around them, but he stopped. “Um, Tilly, if we do this…”

  How could he say it? He’d never had to before. The girls he was with before might hope for more, but they had understood their temporary place in his life.

  “I’m not asking for a marriage proposal.” She shuddered like it was an awful idea. Shouldn’t Crazy J be overly zealous about the prospect? “We both want to have sex. If it’s only for this week, so be it. Let’s take it one day at a time.”

  He gawked at the goddess who offered him a no-strings-attached week of sex. That meant he wouldn’t have to tell her his dark family secret, which meant she wouldn’t think he was a worthless asshole, which meant he could fuck Tilly all week long.

  He held out his hand and when she clasped it, he yanked her to him. “I might have to pick up another box of condoms.”

  Chapter Seven

  Tilly’s belly fluttered with delicious nerves. She’d just orgasmed, but her body was already primed for another round. Even if Flynn wasn’t any better at sex than their first time, if he could work that kind of magic with his fingers…best vacation ever.

  She dried off. They were going to do this. But she doubted he had any protection down here since he was just wearing his swim trunks. Would they make their way upstairs in awkward silence? Would he expect her to say sexy, coquettish things, whatever those would be? As he bent over to dry his legs, an evil idea formed. She wound the towel and snapped him, the fabric cracking in the air just short of his ass.

  He snapped straight. “What the—”

  With a devilish grin, she used her Harley Quinn imitation. “Race ya!”

  Spinning on one foot, she darted for the stairs. The clamber of Flynn racing through the door spurred her hysterical laughter and she took the stairs two at time, not caring one bit how much her butt jiggled.

  His deep laughter was supremely satisfying. She streaked down the hall, about to go to her room, but he likely had the condoms in his, so she veered into his bedroom and dived onto the bed.

  Bouncing, she was still laughing when he landed on top of her on his hands and knees. His mouth was stretched wide and he was breathing hard from the quick sprint. His impressive erection caught her attention. Broad from tip to base, he was hard and straining for her. She’d wanted more of it last night and she’d make sure that happened tonight.

  “When’d you take your trunks off?”

  His green eyes gleamed with intent. “That was the reason I didn’t catch you.”

  “I’m getting your bedding wet.”

  “You will be,” he growled, sending a wave of heat through her core. He wove his fingers through her straps and dragged them down, staring at her breasts when they bounced free.

  Her nipples were painfully erect and when he lowered his head and dragged his tongue across one, she whimpered. “More.”

  He seemed to forget about her swimsuit as he tongued her nipples, first one, then the other. She cradled his head, shivering at the air wafting over her wet skin and the fiery sensations he was sending through her body. She arched her back. He released her nipple with a pop to peel the rest of her suit off. Tossing it aside, he dropped his body down, his lips on her stomach.

  She was giddy with excitement. So…no wham, bam tonight—she was getting the royal treatment.

  He kissed and licked his way down to the apex of her thighs. “Flynn?”

  He raised his head enough to cock an eyebrow at her.

  How did she even… She didn’t want to dissuade him, but if he failed again, she wanted him to know it wasn’t his fault. “I just got off.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Say I do it again while you’re…down there. Then I probably won’t when we…”

  His smile sent a wave of lust through her. He wedged himself between her legs, her knees up, feet on his shoulders. “Tilly, baby, let me show you what I can really do.”

  His hot mouth cupped her nub and his tongue attacked her. She wrenched off the bed with a gasp of ecstasy. That felt good. He worked her until she was needy, rocking herself with him for more, before he inserted first one finger, then two. Only, the intrusion was slow and steady, unlike his tongue on her clit. The dichotomy was too much for her nerves. She wanted to be filled with him, but for the love of all things sexual, she didn’t want him to ease up with his tongue. A second orgasm was imminent. Sure, that’d happened before—when she’d done it herself after a date that’d ended in mediocre sex, and it had been mostly to see if it could really happen.

  He set a steady, slow rhythm with his fingers. Then he tilted his head and oooh… Was he sucking on her clit?

  With little warning, she exploded. She would’ve jackknifed off the bed, but he held her in place until she fell limp. He could impale her and go about his business and she didn’t care to move a muscle, but she’d miss being an active participant.

  He reared over her, his gaze intense, his chin glistening from her juices, but he didn’t rush to don the condom, hadn’t even pulled out the box.

  “What you’re saying is,” he planted his hands on either side of her body, “that you’ve never had three orgasms in one night before.”

  “Truth. Have you?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “Eh, maybe.”

  Not the response she expected. “How could you not remember? Did you have more?” She sounded shrill; she snapped her mouth shut. When she got shrill, Flynn started to stutter.

  But this time, all he did was lift the side of his mouth. “I guess if I did, they weren’t worth remembering.”

  She nodded. “I get that. An empty orgasm.”

  His gaze stuck on hers. “Yeah. Empty.”

  A girl could take those words the wrong way. Like she’d be an empty orgasm for him, too. But the stark realization in his gaze chased those thoughts away.

  Her body was recovering from round two, but her goal wasn’t to get herself off. She wrapped her arms and legs around Flynn and pulled him down to her, seeking some way to deepen the connection between them. She’d wanted Flynn forever, but that was with the fervor of a young girl who’d made her crush out to be everything she’d needed him to be at the time. Today, he was just Flynn, a man who needed his bed partner to care about him. And she did, even if she couldn’t share all of herself with him. They weren’t the same kids they used to be, but Flynn would always be special to her.

  Their mouths met for a languid kiss, his erection pressed between them. He shifted until he stroked her wet folds. One little tweak and he’d be at her entrance. He broke their kiss to nip along her neck as he reached for the nightstand. While he took care of the condom, she ran her hands over his broad shoulders. A few scars marred his hands and wrists.

  He noticed her tracing them with her fingers. “Hazards of the trade when you don’t do things right the first time.”

  She loosened her legs to give him room to roll the condom on. “I like them. The rest of you is…”

  He paused. “Is what?”

  “Too perfect.”

  His gaze swept her body where it held his. She was spread under him, completely naked and more open than she’d ever been with a guy, but she wasn’t embarrassed. No negative emotions were allowed to rain on her time with him. But there was no denying who ate right and got a lot of physical activity in this bed. Defined abs, firm pecs, and solid legs. He was nothing but muscle.

  “See. Your body’s sick.”

  The corners of his mouth kicked up. “And you were holding out on me with yours.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ll show you.”

  He placed himself and her breath caught. Don’t let me down. She couldn’t ignore that she’d fantasized about how Flynn would shame all her former lovers.

  He didn’t shove in and get down to business, he fed himself inside of her, so slowly she almost started begging.

  Rolling her hips up, her voice came out whiny. “Flynn.�


  He jerked forward and impaled himself. She closed her eyes and sighed. The only thing that had kept their first time together from sucking was how well he’d filled her. Just being seated within her, he hit so many of the right places.

  The air rushed out of him and he collapsed to his forearms. “Tilly.”

  Wrapping her legs back around him, she twined her arms around his neck. He slid out, then crashed back in, his ass clenching under her calves.

  A whimper escaped. Shouldn’t she be too sensitive or too numb for it to feel this good already?

  Another lingering slide out, then he swiveled his hips and teased his way in.

  His forehead touched hers. “Tilly, you’re killing me. It’s all I can do to hold back.”

  “Don’t then.” Just fuck me!

  “No, I need to prove myself.” Another leisurely thrust, belied by all the desperate tension in his body. He set an unhurried pace, goading her sex into desperation.

  “I think you’ve proved yourself enough. I need more.”

  A low chuckle vibrated through his chest into hers. “I told you to let me show you what I can do.”

  He claimed her mouth again as he claimed her body. His shaft stroked her desire to violent flames, until she was panting at the effort of keeping up with him. A third climax built, and he hadn’t even had one.

  He’d proved himself, so thoroughly.

  Then what had last night been?

  Before the question could burrow in, he wedged a hand between them. His finger landed on her clit. She twitched. Too much, that was too much!

  But he just rested his hand there as he rode her, his tongue licking her senseless and his hips plunging into her over and over again.

  She squeezed her legs and wrenched back, but his other arm was a steel band that anchored her to him.

  The orgasm crested and she cried and moaned, but he didn’t ease up. She shook, her legs clamping down hard, then falling loose as she rode out the massive wave of ecstasy. Her core was coiled so tight she feared she’d create a void within herself, then fly apart, only to collapse in on herself again. Over and over until she was dizzy with release.

 

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