by Paige North
“Listen, it’s pitch black out, and this street is full of drunks. But tomorrow, I’m all yours,” he whispers to her. Then he motions to me. “I’m going to take that one to see my place, and then I’m going to drive her home, because she’s got an early day tomorrow, okay?”
Livvie nods excitedly, then runs to me and gives me a hug. “You should come rollerblading with us,” she says.
“Uh . . . well, I’ll see about that.”
“Yeah, why don’t you?” Flynn asks me, giving a pointed look.
Maybe because he’s obviously a really good skater, and I’ve never even tried on a pair of skates before? I hedge, “Well, I may have something to do for Professor Morgan,” but Livvie’s eyes are as blue as Flynn’s and twice as big and pleading. “But I’ll see.”
I say good-bye to the rest of the family and we step outside into a night that has become decidedly frigid. In fact, the first snowflakes scatter through the sky as we climb up the narrow, steep staircase to his place. He pushes open the door, flips on the light, and says, “Ta-da.”
Well, my fantasy was right with one thing: It is bare and in need of a woman’s touch. But it isn’t bare in that medicinal, modern way. In fact, it looks like a seedy motel room. The only thing that gives it the slightest bit of personality is the pile of hockey equipment in the corner, right next to the doorway to the dated kitchenette. “Nice,” I muster.
He chuckles. “Right. I was out on my own for a while, but I moved back when my dad quit his job to help my mom after her amputations a year ago. Diabetes.”
I walk inside and look around. “Well. It’s not very personal, is it?”
He shrugs. “We used to rent it out to people. Guess I still think of it as the rental place.”
I walk deeper into the living room and peer around the wall to the opening of a small dining nook, and that’s when I see it.
He has a bookshelf, filled from floor to ceiling with books.
“Are these yours?” When he nods, I wander closer to it, thinking it must be all hockey books. But no, it’s Tom Clancy. A lot of history books. Science textbooks. Dickens. I whirl around and look at him, surprised. “You like science.”
“Yeah. Was going to major in biochemical engineering at BC.”
I blink. That’s not the easiest of majors to pursue. “Why did you make fun of me for all my books?”
“I don’t think I did,” he says simply, and I guess he’s right. Now that I think about it, maybe I assumed he was making fun of me, just because everyone else I knew always did. “And I don’t like Austen. I’m more of a Dickens fan.”
I turn around and gaze at him. “Why did you never take any girls to meet your family?” I ask him.
“Who, Melissa?” He smirks. “Melissa and I were together for about two weeks, but the media blew it up into the world’s greatest love affair. According to them, she was having my baby. She came to see one of my games and there was this big rumor I had a ring in my pocket and was going to jump the stands at the end of the game and propose. When I didn’t, they said I was cheating on her with a stripper. All of it’s better fiction than what’s on those shelves over there.”
“Oh,” I say. I pull my bottom lip into my mouth and suck on it, feeling a pang of jealousy that I try to push away.
“So I do what I can to keep my family out of the press. But more than that, do you blame me?” He shrugs. “If it was up to my mom and dad I’d be married with three of their grandkids by now.”
I shake my head. “But you shouldn’t feel ashamed, Flynn. I love your family. I loved being there, eating a normal, home cooked meal. In fact, I don’t think I’d rather be anywhere else in this whole city.”
He digs his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Most other girls would have a problem with it.”
“Guess I’m a cheap date.” I shrug. “You told your mom I was your girlfriend.”
He reaches over and wipes a bit of imaginary dust off a scratched table. “That okay? I didn’t think she’d approve of ‘girl I’m fucking.’”
When he says it aloud, my insides drop. I don’t know why I allowed myself to get hopeful, that maybe this meant something more. I try to nod, like I understand. It’s all about appearances to him, fine. I mean nothing. This means nothing.
He touches the side of my face. “But you get it. This. No one else does. That’s why I brought you here, Savi. You’re not like those other girls. You get me.”
It’s cliché, but damned if it doesn’t wiggle its way straight to my heart. I swallow as he stares into my eyes, and even if this means nothing, I want to be a part of it. Whatever role he wants me to play in his life, however small, I want it. I lean into his touch, opening myself to him. He doesn’t notice, though, because suddenly he’s distracted, looking back at the door, listening. He lowers his voice. “I don’t put it past Livvie to be listening at our door right now.”
I raise both eyebrows in surprise and I straighten, leaning away from him. So much for that romantic evening, spending time in his bed.
He lifts my chin with his finger and kisses me gently.
“You want a proper date, right? Well, I’ll do you one better. Let’s get out of the city,” he says suddenly. “Away from all these prying eyes and shit. Somewhere we can be alone. I know a place my mom and dad used to go.”
Like I could say no. “When?”
“I promised Livvie I’d help her with her skating this weekend, and I have home games. Next weekend there’s a break in the games. Okay?”
I nod. It sounds perfect.
When I get home, he kisses me at the front step and lets me go inside. When I do, I fall back against the door, taking deep breaths. I’m leaving Boston in just under a month, and now my biggest problem isn’t whether I can prove myself to Professor Morgan before the semester ends.
My biggest problem is that I’m pretty sure I’ve fallen head over heels in love with Flynn Taylor.
Chapter 18
The first weekend of December, I can’t help gawking with my nose nearly pressed against the window as we drive over the bridge into Gloucester, this cute little New England fishing town. It’s so darn adorable, like something out of a movie. Despite the frigid temperatures, I roll down the window and breathe the clean sea air.
“You’d think you’d never saw the ocean,” Flynn says, draping his arm over the steering wheel of the car he borrowed from a friend.
“I have,” I say. “When I landed at Logan. For a minute or two. It’s amazing.”
“You don’t have to tell me that. And yet you’re moving back to Ohio, huh Freckles.”
I look at him, thinking that he has so much power over me, all he’d have to do is say the word and I’d stay. Scary, but it’s true. And would that be so bad? I could defer Case Western, get a job around the area. Maybe even apply to schools around here. Perhaps Professor Morgan would even help me, considering he’s been very complimentary of my work of late.
We pull up to the bed and breakfast, and it’s everything I imagined- a gray shaker-shingled home with gingerbread details and a large wrap-around porch, directly overlooking a harbor filled with fishing boats. I climb out of the car, and stand on the sidewalk, my mouth open. I rub my mittened hands together and squeal. “It’s so perfect, Flynn!”
He comes around the car and stands next to me, a smug little smile on his face that says I done good. Then he points across the street.
It’s a little mom-and-pop bookstore, right next to a cute little bakery.
“I think I’m in heaven,” I say.
He opens the trunk and pulls out our luggage. I try to help him but he gives me a firm tap on the ass. “Go tell them we’re here.”
Inside, it’s more perfection. There’s a little set-up with fresh-baked cookies on doilies and hot tea in little china cups. There are delicate wing-backed chairs surrounding a roaring fireplace in the lobby, and a Christmas tree decked out in Victorian décor. An old lady at the check-in counter welcomes us, and reminds me
ever-so-much of my grandma, she’s so sweet.
She ushers us up three narrow flights of stairs to the upstairs loft room, saying, “This is the seascape room, our most special room. I hope you like it.” Then she opens the door as if unveiling a present just for us.
I walk in and my jaw drops. The loft is one enormous room, bordered on three sides by giant picture windows overlooking the tossing surf. I turn around, mouth agog, to catch Flynn, nodding his approval. He thanks the woman, closes the door, drops the bag and pulls me close. “I thought she’d never leave,” he says into my skin as he kisses my neck.
I squirm away. “If we have dinner reservations, I need to take a shower.”
“It’ll go faster if we do it together,” he says.
I narrow my eyes at him. Somehow, I doubt that, but the invitation sounds too good to turn down. I push his jacket off his shoulders. Kissing him, I reach for the hem of his t-shirt and pull it up over his head. He helps me, pulling my sweater dress over my head, and sinks his mouth onto my nipples. I toss my head back and gasp.
He scoops me up and lays me down on the bed. “Wait here,” he says.
I do, as he hurries into the bathroom. I hear the sound of running water. When he returns, he takes my hand and guides me into the bathroom. It’s huge, all white porcelain, and one entire side of it is a giant enclosed shower with rainfall spout. I gape at it.
“I’m going to fuck you, and then I’ll wash you from head to toe,” he whispers to me, nuzzling my neck. “And then I’m going to fuck you again.”
“And then wash me?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“Whatever you wish,” he says with a grin.
It doesn’t matter. All I want is to get him inside me. I suck in a breath, reach behind my back, and unfasten my bra, and toss it to the floor. “Your turn,” I tell him, as his eyes travel the length of my body.
I reach for the shower door, but he stops me. “Wait.”
He brings me close, covering each breast with his palm, running the pad of his thumb over each nipple as if seeing them for the first time.
I draw in a breath, waiting, wanting him to put his mouth on my skin. He lowers his head to one breast and pulls the nipple into his mouth, sucking lightly, flicking his tongue over the tip. I totally lose it.
“Oh,” I murmur, tensing, every muscle clenching. He moves his hands around to the small of my back, right over the curve of my ass, holding me there. My body trembles and I let out a long, almost animal-like moan. I press closer to him.
Something has changed. Maybe it’s the feeling of freedom, being here, together, away from the rest of the world. Maybe it’s something else. But for the first time, as I tremble with need for him, I can feel him trembling back. I help him take off his clothes, and when we’re both naked, he opens the door and lets me inside, then watches the water sliding over my body in almost reverent awe.
He joins me, closing the shower door and sealing us in together. He wastes no time, picking up where he left off. He kisses across my breastbone, licking hungrily at the dip between my breasts as the water slides down over them. His hands slide up and down my sides, over the curves of my hips, coming to rest on my ass. He cups it, tempting me closer, until I can feel his cock against my lower abdomen, hard and ready for me.
I grip it in my palm, pumping it, feeling its enormous length. I lift a leg and hook it around his waist, pressing my heat against his eager cock, and he lets out a growl. I stand on my toes and letting the water course over my body, whisper, “Fuck washing. I want you in me, now.”
He nudges me back against the shower wall, and this time, I lift my leg higher, fastening it around his hip, rocking my pussy back and forth against his cock. The rest of the blood leaves my head and rushes south, and now my core is positively aching for him. He closes his eyes and I feel him shaking under the sensation . . he loves it.
I’m driving him wild, I think, as just then he lets out a guttural growl that confirms it. “What are you doing, you dirty girl, humping me like that?”
“Tell me you want more,” I whisper into his ear, sucking his lobe into my mouth.
A low, deep chuckle. “I want everything you’ve got to give me, Savi girl. Keep it up.”
So I keep going, wriggling, writhing on him, sliding my warm wet heat back and forth over his shaft, moving faster and faster, my motions growing more frenzied by the second. The feeling so amazing, I have to throw my head back and wrap my arms tighter around him as we move, in perfect sync, together.
He slides his free hand down my ass over the back of my thigh and hoists me up so that both legs are wrapped around my hips. Then he steps forward, pressing my back against the shower wall. It’s cold, but almost a relief against the heat from the water, so I comply willingly, urging him closer, pressing my breasts against his chest so that I can barely breathe.
I can feel him pause with his cock at my entrance. Then he slips his tongue into my mouth, mirroring the movement with his cock, which he slides between my folds, just the very tip, hitting just the right spot, at once.
My body tenses suddenly, because this isn’t the hard, rough Flynn. This is something so different. Tender, sweet. He kisses me gently as he eases in slower, taking it inch by excruciatingly sublime inch, and I cry out. The pleasure is almost too much.
I let out a ragged breath as little by little, he pushes in, the last few inches, burying himself in me to the hilt. And there we stay, with his heart beating against mine, our eyes locked. “Oh,” I murmur.
He presses his forehead to mine. “Oh, good, or oh, bad?”
“Oh, amazing,” I murmur, feeling him so deep inside me. I could truly stay like this forever, feeling his cock stretching me. I tighten my hands around the back of his neck, savoring my inside wall pulsing with the feeling of him. “I love this. I love feeling you everywhere, Flynn. Everywhere inside me.”
He kisses my neck. “I love it too, baby.”
I lift my hips up toward him, urging him along. A groan rips from my chest as he pulls out slowly and sinks in deeper. He covers my mouth with his, thrusting his tongue between my lips, fucking my mouth as slowly and thoroughly as he fucks my cunt. My breathing intensifies, becoming more and more ragged as he moves against me, and soon I’m tilting my pelvis each time to meet my thrusts, wanting more, chasing the climax that’s so near.
I moan, loud, legs hooked tight around his hips and the friction of my nipples rubbing against his chest, almost too much, igniting the first of a thousand fireworks that pulse through me.
I tense and shudder, and soon I’m bucking against him, coming apart, screaming his name as he crashes head first into my own climax, pumping hard into me, so hard that I can feel it in every part of me.
I slump against him, trembling, and he holds me there against his chest, in the stream of the shower, until our breathing returns to normal. “Savi?” he asks, and I might be mistaken, but is that concern in his voice?
“Yes?” I murmur, pressing my cheek against the smooth skin of his chest.
“You okay?”
I smile. “I think I just lost all my bones. You’re going to have to carry me to our dinner reservations.”
He laughs. “That can be arranged.”
Chapter 19
When I get out of the shower, he’s waiting for me. “Get that fine ass of yours dressed.”
I scowl at him. “What about you?”
He’s lying on the big king bed, dressed in nothing but boxer briefs. I throw his duffel bag at him.
Then I grab my bag and head for the bathroom. Twenty minutes later, I emerge in a little red dress, face made up, hair in loose curls.
He’s wearing chinos and a button down shirt, and I get a little shiver of excitement, knowing he’s going against his normal jeans and baseball cap ensemble just for me. He drinks me in, his eyes traveling from my head to my toes. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s way more than he’s used to seeing me in. Most of the time, I’m in sweats, and the best I’ve done for him
is jeans. I do a little runway walk and pose with my hand on my hip.
“Damn, Freckles. Maybe I don’t want to use our reservations.”
He reaches over, his hand finding its way under my skirt, but I swat him away.
“I’m hungry,” I tell him, grinning. “Actually . . . first I’d like to walk on the beach. Touch the ocean for the first time. Can we do that?”
He raises an eyebrow. “You couldn’t have told me you wanted to do that in August? That water’s frigid now.”
I shrug, then give him my pleading, puppy-dog pout, lip drawn in and everything.
He caves. We walk across the street to a long, narrow pier, where we shed our shoes and he helps me down to a small, deserted expanse of beach, lined with dark seaweed and tiny shells. I wiggle my toes, feeling the grittiness of the sand, then reach down and pull up a broken clam shell, holding it in my fingers like the greatest treasure. I start to put it in my pocket as a souvenir of our first “date” when he leans over and picks something up. He hands it to me. It’s the most startling blue color, almost exactly the same shade as his eyes. “What is that?”
“Sea glass,” he says.
I tuck it into my purse, along with just about every other shell I find. Then I walk with him to the water’s edge. I dip one toe in and it’s cold enough to bring physical pain. I shriek. “Holy geez! It’s cold!” I shout at him, grinning as I wrap myself around him for warmth. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He digs his hands into his pockets and shakes his head at me, an amused smile creeping onto his face. “Think I did, Savi.”
I hoist my purse, now very heavy with souvenirs, onto my shoulder. “Can we go eat? I’m starving.”
We climb back to the street and go into back toward the cluster of shops near the bed and breakfast. We eat lobster in this little restaurant, talking about everything and anything, and I feel for the first time . . . free. Like I can be myself. And I can tell Flynn feels the same way because he lets this goofy side of himself out that I’ve never seen before, making the cloth napkin into a hat and wearing it on his head. Soon, we’re laughing so hard, it’s almost enough to make me never want to go back to Boston. If I could stay here with him, in this little bubble, I think I’d be happy. Afterwards, we stroll, hand in hand, to the bookstore. We share a chocolate croissant and point out different books we’ve read, and ones we want to read. Turns out, Flynn more than just likes science . . . he is a total science geek. He picks out a book by Stephen Hawking and keeps reading me these facts about the creation of the universe. He corners me while I’m looking through the steamy romance section and says, “Did you know that black holes are neither black, nor holes?”