All of the frustrations and irritations that had been bothering me since returning to Wellston didn’t seem so important anymore.
I reached out and pulled Flynn toward me. He resisted at first but then came closer. His hands came out of his pockets and he buried them in my hair, pressing slightly into my skull.
“I like your hair. It’s so pretty,” he said softly. My throat felt tight and I couldn’t speak.
Behind closed eyelids I could see everything. Flynn. Me. Our future together. Jobs. Vacations. Holidays.
Children.
I was all there.
This was my life.
The one I had always wanted.
And it was finally here, ready for me to reach out, grab it, and never letting go.
I needed to remember this moment, this exact feeling, when the inevitable second-guessing surfaced from where it always resided deep inside me.
The smile on Flynn’s face. The butterflies in my stomach when he touched me. This knowing that we belonged together.
It would get me through the bad times. Because with me, I had to expect them.
Flynn leaned down and kissed my forehead and I sank into him. My body gravitated towards his.
I tilted my head up and he kissed me slowly and softly at first. The hesitant meeting of lips.
Careful.
Perfect.
“You taste like sugar,” Flynn murmured against my mouth and I smiled.
And then he wasn’t tentative and unsure anymore. He was hurried and desperate.
He yanked my shirt up over my head and dropped it on the floor, his fingers fumbling on the clasp of my bra. In all the time we had been sleeping together, he had never quite gotten the hang of getting it off without inflicting bodily harm.
I took over, sliding my bra off my arms. Flynn pulled back and stared down at my breasts, his normally placid expression fervent and adoring. I loved it when Flynn looked at me like that. Like I was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
He palmed both of my breasts, letting out a low groan as my flesh filled his hands. Flynn was definitely a boobs guy.
Soon his hands were replaced with his mouth and the only sound in the room was the rustle of our clothes as we made quick work of getting naked.
And our frenzied pants and the sound of skin on skin.
Flynn practically carried me to the bed and lay me down. He covered my body with his, touching and kissing me everywhere.
For a time there was nothing else in the world but the two of us. Nothing but the way he made me feel. Nothing but the sound of my name on his lips.
“I love you, Flynn,” I gasped as he entered me, arching my back off the bed.
Flynn answered me in the only way that he knew how. He kissed the hollow of my throat, his mouth lingering there as we moved together. His hands professed their love in a way that his lips never could.
And when we were finished, Flynn held me, his fingers idly playing with my hair.
He hated the sweat and the feeling of sticky skin so I knew it was only a matter of time before our moment of post-coital bliss would end. So I enjoyed it while I could.
“We can do that anytime we want now,” Flynn said, his voice a little loud in the quiet.
