“Are we doing this? Really? Out in the open, for real?”
His hand cupped my cheek. “We are, Barrett.”
I sighed. “Then use the keys, okay? But maybe you could warn me before you come over?”
“I can do that.” He pulled me close to him and pressed my face to his chest and wrapped an arm around me. “You don’t trust me.”
“I do.”
“Really?”
“You took care of me the night I was drugged.”
“You remember?”
“Bits and pieces,” I admitted. “It’s hazy. But you were there, and you held me while I thrashed around in your bed.”
“It was the least I could do.”
“You take care of things,” I said suddenly. “People. That’s what you do. I didn’t realize…”
“Realize what?”
“Realize that whenever you do something and I find out about it later, it’s because you want to take care of things. You want to take care of me.”
His fingers ran through my wet strands. “I wonder…”
“Yeah?”
“I wonder if you’re the only person who sees me.”
I stared into his eyes. Lust brewed between us until it was ready to combust.
He claimed my mouth. Our tongues dueled, battled, engaged. My nails bit into his shoulders as I dragged him closer. He covered me with his body, bathing me with desire and yearning.
“Flynn,” I whispered against his lips.
“Don’t ask me to stop.”
“Wasn’t planning on it,” I panted.
He pressed his forehead against mine. “Don’t ask me to slow down.”
“I don’t want slow.”
Flynn lifted himself off me and shook his head.
“What?” I asked, reaching out to stroke his jaw. My chest rose and fell in rapid breaths, my throat dry, my body aching for his. At the moment, I didn’t care about anything except my desire for Flynn Campbell.
“You want this,” he stated. “Me.”
“Yes.”
“You sure?”
“No.”
He laughed. It was a rough, gritty sound, branding me with desire all over again. He swept me into his arms and carried me into the bedroom. “I had plans to come up here and ask if I could take you to dinner tonight. Out in the open.”
