Page 43 of Catching Flynn

Flynn let out a dry little laugh and reached for the coffeepot.

In the kitchen, he grabbed two mugs from the cabinet while Zavier moved in behind him, close enough that heat pressed along Flynn’s back again. He poured carefully, mostly because being hemmed in by a nearly naked man first thing in the morning made motor skills optional.

Steam rose between them. The mug warmed his fingers.

“He made a comment,” Flynn said, quieter now.

Zavier took the mug from his hand. “I heard.”

Flynn leaned his hip against the counter and took a careful sip. The coffee was hot and bitter. “I handled it.”

“You did.”

The simple agreement settled something in him. He padded toward the kitchen, cold tile under his feet. The rich smell of coffee had deepened. Flynn filled two mugs, turned, and headed back to bed.

Chapter Ten

Flynn was dragging ass as he entered the bookstore, Zavier right behind him. He hadn’t been able to go to sleep, no matter how hard he’d tried. Zavier’s offer to help involved lube, a stepstool, and Flynn’s hands against the wall. He’d loved every second, shouting like an unhinged idiot. Twice Zavier had to cover Flynn’s mouth. Sex hadn’t help him fall back to sleep, but it most likely woken up everyone in the building. Maybe even the next block over.

“Gonna make it, kitten?” Zavier wore the goofiest grin, like wrecking Flynn was a proud achievement.

“If I don’t, just place a wet floor sign over me and let me sleep for ten hours.” Flynn winced and muttered as he walked crooked. Fantastic. Zaveri had fucked Flynn into an old man’s body. “I need a walking cane and a case of pudding.”

“Are you really that sore?” Zavier was at his side before Flynn had seen him move. He scooped Flynn into his muscly arms and carried him to the counter. “I can help customers. You just take it easy.”

“You’re not getting a cut of my pay.” Flynn leapt onto Zavier’s shoulders, groaning in appreciation, while squeezing Zavier’s flexing biceps.

“I thought you were sore.” He set Flynn gently on the stool.

“I can be sore and horny at the same time,” Flynn huffed.

With a smug little glance, Zavier braced both hands on the counter. “Need a cushion?”

“Need to go back to bed, but actually sleep this time.” Flynn adjusted carefully, which somehow made things worse. “Unless you get an overwhelming urge to plow me with grapes and wine. Honestly, either route leads to the same outcome. Actual sleep or drunken sleep, makes no difference to me.”

“Is that a hint?” Zavier chuckle.

“Hint, request, whatever you want to call it. We can stop at the grocery store after work.”

Zavier squeezed Flynn’s shoulder. “Make a list. Call if you need me.”

“That sentence means nothing when you’re standing three feet away.”

“Want me to make it six?” Zavier took a few steps back. “Now I’ll have to shout.”

Flynn was falling so hard. “Dork.”

“Only for you, kitten.” He winked.

“Stop, before I turn so red I’ll need a fire extinguisher.” Flynn pressed his hand to his cheek, groaning when his palm instantly warmed.

“It’s a gorgeous look on you.” The deep timbre in Zaveri’s voice drew Flynn farther into his orbit with every beat.

“I told you I don’t know what to do with compliments.”

Zaveri kissed Flynn’s forehead. “You will.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Flynn muttered as Zavier headed toward the other side of the store.