His nod was slow.Thoughtful.“Then, what are we doing?”
I could circle around it, wait for the suggestion to come from him.That felt like the sensible, respectful thing to do.What careful, cautious Oli would default to; so mindful of the status-quo, and so terrified of letting down his guard.
“You’re taking me to your bedroom,” I told him.
Chapter Eighteen
Flynn looked amused.Fascinated, and amused.
“Are you hitting on me, Oli Carter?”
I glanced down, pointedly.
Part of me was embarrassed, to be standing here so obviously aroused while Flynn - fully clothed, still - stared at me.Yet there was something powerful in that, too; something that shivered in unexpected delight, at the clear lust I could see in his expression.
“Coy doesn’t suit you,” I told him.
He grinned.“And what does suit me?”
“You looked pretty good last time, by the end of things.”
I wasn’t sure if he realized he was biting his lip.Wondered if he was remembering how it’d felt: looking up at me as I straddled his legs and stroked myself.How he’d flinched as I’d toppled over the edge, the orgasm wrenching me.
“Bedroom,” I repeated, then smiled at his shaky nod.
#
Istiffened - well, more of me stiffened, beyond the obvious - when he stood and moved closer.Thought for a moment that Flynn meant to kiss me; only to feel his arm slip around my waist instead, hugging my body to him.
A gasp, escaping me through lips I thought squeezed tightly shut: from surprise, and the press of my erection into his hip, as he lifted me.Turning us both, his shoes crunching on the shard-crisped floor, and carrying me to the relative safety of the hallway.
I stumbled back as he released me.Wide-eyed and breathing hard, as if I’d run up all the stairs in this fancy apartment building.The tension in my chest only increasing when I looked down to see the dark patch, where I’d left slick trails across his jeans.
Flynn’s eyes followed, smile spreading as he realized what I was staring at.“Is that because of me?”
It was wrong, some part of my brain screamed, for him to talk about me like this.So crudely; so bluntly.Memories bubbling up, of how he’d tease me as a child: Flynn’s confidence always feeling so brash compared to my own stillness.
