“Mate, huh?” His voice is quiet, amused, with a hint of something darker behind it.
I laugh, way too nervous. He walks past me like he owns the place.
“You need to take the camera and computer with you. It’s too much.”
I close the door and lock it.
“Let’s make a deal.” He turns to face me, still calm, still with his hands in his pockets. “You’ll pay me. Not with money.”
“Excuse me?” I cross my arms. Without noticing, I start tapping my foot on the floor.
“Easy, trouble.” His smirk is slow, cocky, deliberate.
“Easy? Is that why you gave me that stuff? So you could—”
He moves. Fast.
I step back until my spine hits the wall and his arms come up, one on either side of my head, boxing me in.
“Can you let me finish?” he says, voice low and calm like I’m the one being unreasonable. His scent hits me, clean, expensive. “You pay me by telling the truth. About that night.”
My breath catches. “I told you the truth.” I lie.
“No. You didn’t.” His voice roughens, his pupils dilate, his left hand drags slowly down my arm, the trail of goosebumps he leaves behind making me shiver.
“Do you have any idea what happens to people who lie to my face?”
I shake my head, lips parting as his hand grips my waist tight.
“Let’s just say they don’t do it twice.”
His other hand lifts, thumb dragging across my cheek to my mouth.
“The truth, Autumn.”
He presses on my lower lip, gently, almost teasing. His head tilts closer and I can feel his tongue skim along the edge of my lips and I let out a soft, helpless sound.
I moan, trying to hide it, but that doesn’t work.
He grins like a man who just won.
“Flynn,” I whisper.
“You were a virgin, weren’t you?” He doesn’t need the answer; his hand is still on my face, the other gripping my hip. His presence presses down on me like a weight.
“Y-yes.”
His lips crash into mine.
The kiss is rough, devouring. His thumb pulls my chin, opening my mouth. His tongue slides in and I melt into him without thinking. My hands reach for his neck—
He catches them and holds them, then he pins them both above my head with one strong hand.
My breath hitches.
“Why me?” he asks. He sounds like he’s barely breathing hard, while I sound like I’ve just run a mile. “Why like that?”
I let out a breath, and tell him a half truth. “I was sick of it. Sick of being a virgin, of people telling me how it should be, how I should feel. I wanted it to be mine.”
