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“Your guests are having a good time.”
I smile, knowing it doesn’t reach my eyes, and I’m doing my best not to fidget or look in the direction of Flynn’s new room.
His grin spreads, making it evident I’m not fooling anyone. He knows why I’m down here and exactly where I was heading.
“Are you going to join them?”
My brow furrows.
“The people you invited tonight?”
“Umm, no. Actually, I was headed down here to ask Fly—I mean Mr. Coleman to ask them to leave.”
“How do you know he’s in his room?”
One eyebrow hitches as the corner of his handsome mouth twitches. He’s wearing a shirt now, but it doesn’t hide his muscular frame when he crosses his arms over his chest as he leans against the center island.
Because that’s where he always runs to when he rejects me.
“I… umm… is he out by the pool?”
I turn around, ready to run and come back later even though there’s a good chance I’ll lose the bravado I’ve managed to build since he walked away from me.
“No, he’s in his room, but I’ll get the help of the other guys to send everyone home.” He crosses the room, and just as I think I’m free, he turns back around to face me. “Still wanting to party at that club tomorrow night?”
No. “Of course, just have a headache right now is all.”
He nods once before walking away.
Tapping my bare foot against the marble, I consider my options. I could go back upstairs and act like nothing happened. That’s what a mature adult would do, right? Act like a sexual experience is no big deal when even just the thought of his hands on me makes my skin heat. Or, I could go in there and give him the piece of my mind I psyched myself up to do earlier.
The injured, insulted part of my mind wins out, but that’s no surprise. It always does.
With one last quick look over my shoulder to make sure Ignacio isn’t lurking, I make my way to his room.
I don’t bother knocking, simply throwing the door open, a little surprised it’s not locked.
I don’t hear him startle. I don’t hear a gun get cocked. And both of those things mean he’s still awake. It’s been less than thirty minutes since he left me, so I knew it was unlikely, but I didn’t expect to shut the door and encase us in complete darkness.
“I just…”
I swallow a lump forming in my throat. I came in here with the intent of telling him off, getting answers and storming away, but the thought of walking out, even after saying my piece, makes me feel lonely.
“I’m feeling vulnerable,” I confess, the darkness making it easier for the words to slip off my tongue. “I don’t want to be alone.”
He doesn’t tell me to fuck off. He doesn’t flip on a light and demand I leave.
And when I find his bed in the darkness, he’s holding the covers up to make it easier to climb in beside him.
Like it’s the most natural thing in the world, I wrap my arm around his waist, pressing my nose into his throat. He pulls me closer, both arms around me as he plays with my hair. I should’ve put on more clothes. Coming down here in my bikini isn’t leaving much between us.
I wiggle, wanting every inch of my bare skin pressed against his, but I don’t shove his boxers down like my head is trying to convince me is the best idea ever.
He squeezes me until I settle, much the same way he did when I was sick. This, us holding each other, feels like the most natural thing in the world, and a calm I didn’t feel until I was touching him again washes over me.
As my eyes drift closed and my breathing levels out, he whispers, “You’re fucking driving me crazy.”
I smile against his warm chest and fall to sleep.Chapter 21Flynn
The temptation of her body keeps me in bed for an hour after I actually wake up. Not because the lure is so great, but because I’m afraid if she wakes up, I won’t be able to resist.
I didn’t hesitate last night when she walked in here, and I know if she tried anything, ran her hand down my stomach or kissed me, I would’ve given in. I’m on a hair trigger, and all it’s going to take is one twitch of her finger for me to forget all reasoning and end up inside of her.
So, I breathe shallow breaths, and I make sure not to twitch even though the fingers of one hand are resting against her lower back, inches from her ass, and the other is holding her thigh.
That hand isn’t as much of an issue as the leg resting on my erection.
It’s not morning wood. It’s not I-need-to-get-up-and-piss wood.
