“Honestly, I’d rather do you first.”
Jesus Christ,this woman. “Aren't those supposed to be my lines?”
“Look, I don't know what you’re expecting. I thought it was kind of obvious by now that I speak before thinking, and I think like a horny male.”
“I’m down with that, honestly. I thought maybe you wanted a few dates first, or at least one pretend date.” He could put in the time for that, but it sounded as though all she wanted was his dick. Which was okay with him.
“I’ve been waiting for you to call since I came on pretty strong last time. I’m doing my best not to scare you off, but I’ll be happy to put in the booty call from now on so you know how serious I am about fucking you.”
“Well.” He cleared his throat. What the fuck was he meant to do with a woman as straightforward as this one? Fuck her, right? The answer was to fuck her senseless. “Your place or mine?”
“I know you offered yours the last time, but that was mostly because I can’t get as far as letting men come to my place when I’m on the job. But you’re welcome here if you want.”
Did he want? His place was not only small, it was sized like a dollhouse. And it was in a shitty part of town. “Your place sounds better by a long shot, if only by the tiny bit of information that you have a balcony. I barely have a working fire escape.”
“Aw, baby.” That voice was sending him into overdrive, all pouty and low in his ear as it was. “I’ll text my address.”
“I’ll be there soon. Do I need to bring, I mean should I—”
“I have condoms, big boy, unless you’re Herculean in size and need something special.”
And there he went, choking to death on his tongue. “Fuck’s sake, I was trying to be polite and ask if you wanted wine or beer or something. Flowers, candy? I don't know.”
She laughed again, and soon he was joining in. There was something infectious about the way she laughed, and he couldn't help it.
“If you have something you’d like to bring, that’s fine, but don't go out of your way.”
Bristowe might just be his dream woman. Quickly, they said goodbye so he could shower and get dressed. He tried not to overdo it with cologne and tried to remember the last time he’d let himself enjoy a woman’s company. It had been a little bit, he had to admit. Especially since he couldn't remember exactly when it had been. Right out of the foster house, he’d been a crazy man. Doing whatever and whoever he wanted because he could. Trying out freedom like it was a superhero cape. Oddly juxtaposed between ultra responsible and wildly careless, it was his first taste of adulthood. Working and his brothers came first, always, but then he’d done whatever he could get away with for a long ass time. It was only when a girl he barely knew had a pregnancy scare that he straightened up.
Once he was ready, Flynn looked around for something—anything—he could bring. But he had nothing. Those words brought him up short. More true than he liked to admit, he had nothing. Nothing to give, to bring to the table, to offer another human being. Bristowe said she didn't care, so he wasn't about to second guess it. Grabbing his keys, he locked up and headed down the noisy metal stairs.
She was close, closer than he’d originally assumed. Her place was a few blocks south, in a nicer part of town but still in a lower middle class area. It wasn't a competition, he reminded himself. She wasn't pretentious, that was the important part. By the time he made it there, the sun had begun a slow descent over the horizon until a beautiful sunset outlined her apartment building. It was one of those things he was determined to notice, not to ignore it with the expectation of seeing one tomorrow. No one was promised another tomorrow, and he knew that all too well.
Her unit was on the first floor, another perk above his place. Knocking and stepping back, he waited with his foot tapping. Soon, she opened the door, looking like a siren meant to tempt him to his death. He couldn't bring himself to give a good goddamn, not when she’d painted her mouth like aged red wine and framed her face with her thick sable curls.
“I guess if I’m about to crash against the rocks, at least I’ll enjoy the journey.”
A brief frown creased her forehead before she smiled and stepped back to let him inside. “I promise, no mermaid of death here. Or whatever they were.”
Briefly, he looked around her living room and appreciated how much of herself she’d infused into the space. “Nice place.”
“Thanks.”
The sound of the door closing and the lock clicking was his cue, he figured. Turning back to her, he raised his thumb and ran it lightly over her bottom lip, watching her eyes dilate. A second later, he dragged it, allowing her lipstick to smear. When she raised up on her toes and crushed her mouth to his, he reciprocated. Hands on her waist, he lifted her enough to match their height. Her tongue circled the seam of his lips before plunging in, finding him more than willing to exchange the balance of power with her.
Pulling away, she said, “Bedroom’s that way.”
Following her pointed finger, Flynn grabbed her hand and nearly forgot to give her time to walk without stumbling.
“Your eagerness is either a bad sign, or a very, very good sign,” she said.
Stopping right inside the doors, he turned to her again. “It’s been some time for me, but I promise it still bodes well for you.”
“Thank God.”
Before they moved too far along, she stepped to the nightstand and withdrew a multipack of condoms.
“Looking to earn a scout badge with your preparedness?”
