With a tender caress to her jaw, he dropped a kiss to her forehead again. She wondered if he had any idea how much she treasured that intimate gesture. A moment later, he engulfed her in a hug, cradling her head to the crook of his neck.
“I'd never stayed the night before.”
“Before the last time you were here?” she clarified.
She felt him nod. “I liked it.”
Melting into a puddle at his feet, she lifted her face to his. “Then stay as long as you want.”
Taking her lips in a gentle kiss, Flynn answered her with his body. Perhaps the only way he knew to communicate his feelings for her, it was enough for the time being.
Chapter Eight
Spending the nightat Bristowe’s house was an unfamiliar experience for Flynn. Not only had he never stayed with a woman before, but he had never felt particularly comfortable with someone else in the bed with him. Normally, he’d get up and practically run out the door after having a one night stand. He never, ever gave them a second try, or slept in their bed, or even spoke to them again. It must have stemmed from his childhood, but the idea of someone hovering over him while he slept creeped him the hell out. The only person who’d ever stood a chance was Fischer, and only because he was a terrified little boy. No harm could come from a small child, and that helped create a sense of calm. Flynn didn't have to be on guard at all times with his foster brother, but that didn't apply to other adults.
When he first arrived at Mercy House, Flynn had spent several sleepless weeks trying to figure out how he would ever survive in a place like that. There was an older boy about to age out of the system who he didn't trust for one second. Thankfully, he’d left soon after Flynn arrived, and no one expected them to form a bond with each other. But that left him as the eldest in a houseful of scared boys, and they looked up to him whether he wanted them to or not. He didn't want the responsibility of others and their well-being, but that sort of came with the territory. Over time, he’d developed a habit of sleeping lightly, jumping awake at every slight noise to ensure the other boys were safe and secure in their beds. No one was about to come sneaking into their rooms to do unspeakable things, but it was hard to come to terms with that in the early days. Trust was incredibly difficult to earn in his world.
But with Bristowe, things were definitely not the same. Flynn never felt for one second that anything bad would happen in her presence. For one, she was tougher than a lot of men he knew. She was, after all, a police detective sworn to uphold the law—protect and serve and all that. That was secondary to something as simple as the way he felt in her house. At first, he thought it was because she lived in a better neighborhood than he did, but after the second night they spent together, he realized it was just his level of comfort with her.
They’d watched a little TV before going to bed, mostly because it seemed there was nothing else to do after they’d fucked against her front door. Flynn had enjoyed that experience immensely; he’d never done it before. After slipping in bed next to her, he made the conscious decision to wrap his arms around her to see what it would be like. It felt good. That was probably an understatement, but for him, it was the word that popped into his brain as soon as they had settled in. Good. Warm. Safe.
She’d mumbled a little, tightening her hold on him and telling him it was nice. When he’d woken a few hours later, it was to find himself on his back with her practically on top of him. Her legs were thrown over his, her arm snaked up to his shoulder, and her face was inches below his. Instead of disgusting or claustrophobic, it was satisfying as hell. Intimacy, he supposed, had its merits.
One of those merits was the chance to get her to fuck him again. He stroked the underside of the arm slung over him, but she didn't stir. Then, he shifted his hips until her upper thigh came in contact with his cock, which was quickly rising to the opportunity to get wet. When he searched for, and found, her nipple in the dark, he twisted it gently between his fingers to see what would happen.
“You’re a naughty boy,” she mumbled huskily.
Grinning, he tweaked her nipple harder. “Yep.”
Her soft chuckle went right to his gut. Her voice never failed to soothe his ears, and in the middle of the night, it sounded even sexier. Without prompting, she shifted her body until she was fully draped over him and sank down. His gasp was drowned out by the moan that quickly followed.
He gripped her hips. “Oh god, that’s it.”
Slowly, gently, she undulated her hips and took him deeper. The feeling was so fucking exquisite; it took him several seconds to realize why.
“Shit. Fuck, Bristowe.”
