Flynn was one of those guys who was hot twenty years ago and would still be hot in twenty more years. He was rugged, with his ruffled ebony hair, and dark maple syrup eyes to melt into. It had not escaped her notice, as she followed him out to his Jeep that he had a killer ass, too.
Which was awful of her, she supposed. But tonight was supposed to be her wedding night. A virgin no more after tonight, that had been the plan. And what good had waiting done her?
Not a damn bit. She’d been played for a fool. She needed a fling, that’s what. A romance would never work because she’d never trust a man again. Her mom had been right. After Olivia’s dad left her for his second wife—he was working on wife number six now—she said, “You can never trust a man. He thinks with his privates.”
Her mother had certainly been proved right today. Her father had cheated on all of his wives, Jared had cheated on her—all men cheated eventually.
She turned and eyed Flynn openly. He’d be perfect for a fling. Women all over town swooned for the contractor, a man who owned his own business and could please the ladies, according to gossip.
He never stuck with one long, but what did that matter to her? She wanted to have some fun and rid herself of her damn virginity. It was nothing more than a symbol of an ideal she’d never achieve: finding the perfect man and being faithful to only him.
With a sigh, she looked back at the snow falling in clumps to the ground. She wouldn’t get her fling. He was dropping her off and leaving.
He’d probably tell her dad where she was, too, who would show up, furious that he’d canceled the lavish wedding he’d paid for. Instead of great sex with a hot, older man, she’d get yelled at, like an irresponsible teenager.
“It’s pretty bad out, huh?”
“Yeah, I guess so. You might be snowed in for a few days. You sure you don’t want me to come back for two whole weeks?”
I want you to stay and teach me every single thing you know about great sex. “I’m sure. But, it’s coming down pretty hard. Maybe you should wait until morning to go back.”
What on Earth was she doing? She had all the skills of a fish at seducing men. How would she convince him to make love to her if he did stay? Just straight up ask?
It was silly. He was an experienced, sexy older man. He probably had zero interest in a night with her. Worse, he was her dad’s best friend. He’d probably laugh at her, best-case-scenario if she suggested it.
What if he told her father? Not that Sean had any right to judge her. He’d been married so many times, he needed a revolving door on the front porch.
All these thoughts crashed through her mind at lightning speed.
Flynn shook his head. “I wouldn’t want you to not be comfortable. It’s only a one bedroom cabin. It’s a loft bedroom, above the living room. I’m sure having a man you hardly know there would be strange, at the very least.”
“I’d much rather you stay and make it home safely.” She looked out the window. A man she hardly knew—that would be perfect. It both shocked and excited her, at the same time, to think of what might happen if they spent the night together.
She wasn’t a child. She was twenty-three and she’d grown up in a time when teenagers sent each other naked selfies for fun. Not that she’d ever done such a thing, but Tara certainly had.
In fact, most of her sexual education came from things Tara had shared with her. That and television. She should’ve gotten suspicious when Tara stopped reporting in about her hook-ups and bootie calls.
But, she didn’t want to think about that anymore. Jared and Tara had betrayed her, humiliated her. She closed her eyes, trying to put it out of her mind. That horrible look Tara had given her right before she slapped her—pure, unadulterated jealousy and rage.
“You okay?”
Olivia looked down at her lap, where her nails pressed into the palms of her hands. “I’m fine. Just a little shook up. It’s been a crazy day.”
“So… how’d you find out? About the affair?”
“My wonderful best friend told me. It was… quite a scene.” Her hair, with the million bobby pins holding it in place, itched her scalp. She looked at the clock in the dash. By this time, she’d have been Mrs. Jared King and be dancing the evening away before dashing off to her honeymoon. Now what did she have to look forward to?
Not marriage. She’d never trust another man again.
They pulled up to the cabin, a rugged two-story with silvered cedar siding. On the porch and all along the side, there were stacks and stacks of firewood. She’d be okay.
“You didn’t bring any clothes.”
She turned to Flynn and he was eyeing her huge taffeta gown. She could hardly rewash it—that would destroy it—and it wasn’t practical enough to wear around the cabin. “I wasn’t exactly thinking all that far ahead.”
“I should’ve taken you to your place, let you pack a bag.”
“Oh, no.” She put her hand over his on the gearshift, and heat pooled in her belly. “I’m sure I surprised you. You can’t blame yourself. I should’ve thought.”
“Well, let’s get you in without destroying that dress.” He opened his door and the cold struck her like a blow. Snow drifted in through the briefly ajar door.
He came around, opened her door, and before she knew what he had planned, he’d picked her up, an arm around her waist and one under her knees.
Olivia clung to him, her face turned into his neck, as the wind whistled around them. He smelled spicy, like leather and citrus, and something else altogether. Something masculine, like pure sex. As if she’d recognize such a thing.
He carried her through the snow, a foot deep in places, to the door and sat her down. He dug around on his key chain for a silver key and unlocked the door.
“Your home for the next two weeks awaits.” He turned the knob and gestured inside.
***
It had been hell carrying her like that. She smelled expensive and unattainable. Like rose water, something altogether too good for him to have in his arms. But, she’d have destroyed her dress trying to make her way through the snow drifts.
Maybe she could sell it or something, recoup some of the money her father had invested in the wedding. Regardless, she wasn’t exactly tall. She came up to his shoulder and the snow would’ve been knee-deep on her. It was really the only thing to do.
Now that they were inside, he went about starting a fire as quickly as he could to warm the cabin up some. “Here,” he said, shrugging out of his leather jacket. “Put this on while I try to warm this place up.”
She put the jacket over her bare shoulders. That cleavage was a sight, and he made himself turn away and get back to work laying a fire. He struck a long match to the kindling and stepped back. It was a huge stone fireplace and could warm the whole cabin once it got going.
He caught himself staring at her breasts once more as she came down the stairs. Damn it, he had to stop thinking of her this way. She was his best friend’s daughter, a much younger woman, and there was no way she’d be interested in him, regardless.
Flynn didn’t do anything but one-night-stands and brief affairs. He was always honest—they’d be together as long as it was fun and then they’d both move on when one of them got bored. It had worked out quite well for him over the years.
It wasn’t that Flynn wouldn’t have liked to fall in love, start a family. He just knew, after his parents had abandoned him and he’d spent years in the foster care system, love wasn’t in the cards for him. When a kid’s own parents don’t care—no one does.
At any rate, it wasn’t love he was thinking about, not staring at the luscious bride poking around the cabin. It was pure lust rushing through his veins, making his dick stir to life.
“Oh, hey. I think I might have a solution to at least one of your problems.” He went to the hall closet and shifted heavy winter coats and a pair of hunting boots around until he could reach a box in the back. He tugged it out and held it out to her. “Clothes.”
>
She quirked an eyebrow at him and pulled out a skimpy purple tank top. “Why do you have women’s clothes in a box in the back of your closet?”
“Well, uh… a friend left them here last summer. She got mad, left in a hurry. I boxed them up in case she asked for them back, but we didn’t talk again.”
She smirked at him, the first time he’d seen her smile. Even laughing at him, it lit up her face and made her more beautiful. “Okay, well, I’m not planning to go out. You said there’s plenty of firewood and food. These will be just fine. Thank you very much. You’re a really thoughtful person, Flynn. You saved me today and I won’t ever forget it.”
He listened to her melodic voice, transfixed. He almost preened with pride that he’d been able to help her when she’d been at her lowest, in the direst of circumstances. He shook his head, trying to break the spell. He was in a state of arousal now, and he might as well immerse himself in the snow and cool off. “I suppose I should get going.”
She followed him to the door and they looked out together. It seemed impossible, but another six inches had fallen while they’d been in the cabin.
“Oh,” she said and slipped his jacket off. He wished she wouldn’t do that because then it was a struggle not to stare at her breasts. “You’ll need this.”
Flynn tried to see the road from here, but it was obscured by the drifts and still falling snow. “You might be right.”
“About what?”
“I might have to wait until morning. That road can be treacherous, especially at night. If I wait until noon tomorrow, hopefully, some of the snow will have melted off some.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re staying?”
“Is that a problem? I understand if you’re not comfortable with—”
“No, no. It’s perfectly fine. I’d enjoy the company, to be honest. Otherwise, I’m just going to think about what an awful day this was.”
Flynn took his coat and put it back around her shoulders. “Why don’t you just keep that on until you get changed. You must be freezing.”
“Actually, I’d love to get out of this dress, but I might need some help. Normally, the maid-of-honor would undo the back of the dress, but she’s a cheating whore. And not here, in any case.” She turned around to show him the way her wedding dress laced up the back like an old-fashioned corset.
“So…” He ran a hand through his wet-from-snow hair. “You want me to loosen you up.” God, that made him think of bondage. He’d love to tie her to the four-poster bed upstairs and have his way with her.
“If you don’t mind.” She looked over her shoulder at him. Her back was creamy perfection. “I never want to see this dress again, much less wear it for another minute longer.”
Once he finished pulling the laces loose, the dress gaped in the back and she had to hold it, molding it to her breasts. The bumps on her spine made him want to run his tongue over them. “You should go up, get out of these clothes, and get some rest.”
“Oh, I couldn’t take your bed.” She turned to face him, holding the dress up with one hand. God, all it would take is one little wardrobe malfunction and he’d see her in her perfect lacy wedding lingerie.
“I insist. Go get some sleep, Olivia.”
She grabbed the box with her other hand, fumbling to keep the dress up and carry the clothing up the stairs. It took her a full minute to get up there.
He laid down on the couch and pulled the blanket off the back. It made him crazy to know she was upstairs, taking all her clothes off, and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. Who took advantage of someone when they’d been through something that awful? Much as he wanted her, he wasn’t that guy.
Chapter Two
Olivia rolled over in an unfamiliar bed the next morning, covered in blankets, and looked out upper windows level with the loft bedroom. There was so much snow, the tree branches dipped with the weight.
She’d given up on everything when she’d finally gotten out of the dress and her underclothes. She’d burrowed under the covers in her panties and nothing else. The sun was high in the sky—it was probably about ten in the morning. Flynn had likely already headed out.
She dug around in the closet upstairs, located an old men’s t-shirt out, and pulled it over her head. It fell to mid-thigh on her. It was soft, and comfy, and smelled a little like Flynn.
If only she’d had the nerve to try to seduce him last night. She’d wanted to, more than she’d ever wanted anyone—including her former fiancé, but she just didn’t have the guts. Flynn was so experienced. What would he want with someone like her, who knew about as much as one could learn from watching nighttime soaps and HBO?
She yawned as she walked down the stairs. He sat at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of coffee and she almost yelped. She’d assumed she was alone in the house. She didn’t even have a bra on.
Of course, there was no real privacy in the cabin, aside from the bathroom. He’d been asleep just down the stairs from the open-air loft all night.
She rubbed a hand over her hair. She’d yanked and tugged on bobby pins for a full half-hour last night to get the entire updo down. It must look a mess now, after sleeping on it. She could only imagine how frightful she must appear to him.
“I thought you’d be gone already.”
“Yeah, there was a flaw in my logic.”
“Is there any more coffee?” She eyed his with open envy.
“In the pot beside the fireplace.” He gestured with his mug that way.
She grabbed a cup from the cabinet and poured herself a cup of black coffee. Normally, she drank expensive coffee bar stuff, five dollars a cup, but this tasted better than anything she’d had at home. Maybe because it was already turning into a hell of a morning after the worst day of her life. “What was that?”
“Hm? What was what?”
“The flaw in your logic.” She sat down on the stone hearth and crossed her legs. It came up about two feet from the floor and the fire warmed her back.
“There’s about four feet of snow, deeper in some places. I couldn’t even tell you where the road is out there.”
“What do we do?” She felt bare and vulnerable in the harsh light of the morning. The old hardwood was rough against her feet.
“Do? There’s nothing to ‘do.’ We’re both stuck here for a few days, maybe a week.” He crossed over to refill his cup and sat down beside her. “Sometimes I think if it weren’t for bad luck, I wouldn’t have any luck at all.”
She gazed at him, her eyes going wide at hunky, sexy Flynn stuck here with her. She tried to put on a normal face. “Right. Maybe a week?”
“Yeah. I turned on the radio. There’s not much reception up here, but enough that I could hear the weather. We’re scheduled for more snow tonight and all day tomorrow. I couldn’t leave if I tried.”
“Well, I mean, it’s your cabin. You should take the bedroom. I only agreed because I thought you’d be leaving.”
Flynn shook his head. “Not a chance. The couch is plenty for me. I feel awful for you. You’re supposed to be on your honeymoon and instead, you’re stuck with me.”
“Oh, yeah. Poor me, stuck with the attractive man who rescued me from my doomed marriage.” Damn it, she’d said that out loud. She hadn’t thought before she spoke. Her cheeks burned at the slip-up.
He gave her a half-grin as he lifted the mug to his lips. After he took a sip, he frowned. “And I’ve been waiting to hear about a work contract. I was so worried about it, that’s what I was doing outside the sanctuary. Now, I’m stuck here and there’s no way to know if I got the job. And, if I did, there are contracts to sign, seal the thing up.”
Olivia finished her coffee and let the cup dangle by two fingers. “I’m so sorry, Flynn. It’s all my fault that you’re not home to take care of your business.”
“Oh, hell. I didn’t mean that. I’m glad I was there to help you and I had somewhere for you to hide out until you feel like dealing with the repercussions.”
�
�Yes, the ‘repercussions’ will be plenty and awful. Jared will be furious—but screw him. My parents are going to be humiliated and angry. And Jared’s dad. He’s such a generous, sweet guy.” She shook her head, her heartbeat swishing through her ears. “I’m so pissed that Jared put me in the position of calling everything off. He’s the one who wanted to screw around. I can’t believe I waited for him.”
“Waited when for him?” Flynn tilted his head and gave her a curious look.
“No, I mean… never mind. It’s embarrassing. Especially after he cheated. And Tara tried to say it was my fault because I wanted to wait until we were married.” Olivia ran a shaky hand through her hair. She literally could not shut up today.
“You mean…” Flynn set his cup on the hearth and gazed into her eyes. “You’re saying you’ve never had sex.”
Olivia nodded, miserable at the turn the conversation had taken. He must think her a foolish, childish girl.
***
Flynn crossed his legs, hoping to hide the erection growing in his jeans. It was damned uncomfortable and he should move away from Olivia.
He couldn’t believe her words. She was a virgin. No one had ever touched that delectable body and Flynn wanted to be the one to teach her about carnal knowledge more than anything. Especially as she sat beside him, nipples peaked through the t-shirt and her legs bare.
Why, she was either freezing—unlikely with the roaring fire at their backs—or just as aroused as he was. He considered kissing her. Her face was less than ten inches from his own.
What would it be like? Flynn had never been with a virgin. When he was young and knew nothing, he’d been with older women who taught him how to please them. He’d been with younger women since he’d hit thirty, but never someone so innocent.
Olivia’s eyes fluttered closed and she leaned toward him. His desire must’ve been stamped on his face. The voice of reason inside of him screamed, “Don’t do it!” He’d always been shit at listening to reason.
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