Keir and Paisley head to the carpark while Flynn and I call a cab. By some unspoken agreement that I’m grateful for, it’s seems Flynn is coming home with me.
It’s almost three in the morning when the cab pulls into my street, the tire sounds as they rumble along the road a strange sort of comfort. Flynn pays the cabbie as I shuffle along the garden path and before I can reach the door, he’s taken the keys out of my hand.
Once inside, he silently wraps me in his arms. My cheek pressed into the hardness of his chest.
‘Come on.’ His words are both a rumble through his chest and a burst of warm air on my neck. ‘Let’s get you upstairs.
I let him lead me, grateful that he seems to understand that I don’t have the brain capacity for speaking. He makes a beeline for my bathroom, flicking on the shower before coming to the doorway, curling his fingers in a sort ofcome hithermotion.
‘It’s almost three thirty and I have to be up in the morning.’ My protest is as half-hearted as I feel. Perched on the edge of my mattress, I peel off the torture devices some women would call shoes. Flynn seems unmoved, smiling indulgently at me, his shoulder leaning against the doorframe. ‘I really am too tired,’ I repeat.
‘Come on, babe. Let me wash your day off,’ he says, still holding out his hand. ‘I promise I’ll behave.’
‘I’m not sure you know the meaning of the word,’ I mumble even as I shuffle across the room.
‘She’s gonna be okay,’ he promises, his mouth pressing a small kiss to my hairline. Until I tilt my chin, offering him my mouth instead. It’s a tender kiss, yet one that still leaves us breathless. Wordless. Both of which I’m thankful for.
I shiver as he pulls on the zip of my dress, the heat of his body so compelling behind. But I don’t turn. As he pushes the lace from my shoulders, I’m conscious of the tiny catch in his breath as he loosens my bra.
‘Nice undies,’ he says softly.Noi-ce.
‘I can’t believe I went to the hospital bare arsed.’
‘Sorry,’ he mumbles. ‘Kinda, anyway.’
I chuckle at his candour as I press my hand against the wall to step from the pool of my clothes. It’s refreshing to know I’ll get nothing but honesty from Flynn.
‘I wore really pretty lingerie tonight.’
‘And I went and spoiled it all by being a caveman.’ His knuckles ghost the swell of my bottom. Despite the warmth of the room, I shiver.
‘I quite like that side of you,’ I admit, wanting to match his honesty. ‘And I can always wear them another time.’
‘I reckon it’s true what they say. If a woman wears matching undies, you’re getting lucky because she planned it so.’
‘So my underwear forced your hand, or sent you telepathic messages?’
‘This issue is, I just can’t keep my hands off you.’
My heart does a little leap—the way he looks at me and the things he says? Flynn’s brand of adoration is certainly heady.
The steam swirls around us as I turn to face him and watch as he strips from his own clothing without fanfare or words, providing me with the opportunity to just appreciate the sight of him. The pop of muscles at his biceps, and the coarse hair on his chest. The strong lines of this thighs, and the ridiculousVthat leads to places I won’t be visiting tonight.
Flynn steps into the shower pulling me in behind him, allowing the heat of the water to bite at my skin in the most delicious of ways. My muscles unlock and relax in the heat and steam, the last vestiges of tension disappearing as Flynn smooths a scented soapy sponge over my skin.
‘Head back,’ he murmurs, his finger under my chin.I was right to allow him to coax me into the shower, I think, as his long fingers massage shampoo into my hair. Eyes closed, I just allow myself to revel in his care.
Then later, I dissolve in a different kind of pleasure as I slip naked and clean between my sheets.
Flynn is solid presence behind me and though it’s dark and it’s mostly quiet, the early birds have already begun to chirp.
‘Don’t forget to set your alarm.’
‘I can’t find my phone.’ His deep voice rumbles in the quiet of the room, his fingers trailing light circles across my arm.
‘I’m sure it’ll turn up.’
He makes a noise of inconsequence, pressing his lips to my head. ‘Whatever you need tomorrow, I’m there. At your disposal.’
