All They Need(70)

And she’d survived. Lying in his arms the morning after, she had no regrets. Not a single one. But it had never been the sex she’d been worried about. It was what came after the sex that scared the hell out of her.

Flynn stirred behind her, drawing her closer. She tensed. Even though she knew it was completely irrational, she still felt hemmed in and suffocated. She needed some breathing room.

Moving slowly, she eased Flynn’s arm from around her waist and rolled away from him. She padded quietly into the en suite and shut the door. She took care of business, then washed her face, wishing she could wash away the shadows of the past so easily. She studied herself in the mirror. She looked tired, her mouth a little swollen. Her eyes were anxious. Worried.

She pulled her hair back from her face and took a deep breath, letting it out. She reminded herself that this relationship was new and fresh, untainted by the dynamics that had ruined her marriage. For starters, Flynn was a far more secure man than Owen had ever been. And, of course, she and Flynn weren’t married. They didn’t share a bedroom or a home, she didn’t answer to him, her fate wasn’t tied to him. She was her own person, and Flynn his.

These were all good things to remember, good things to remind herself of.

Drying her face, she opened the bathroom door, ready to slip into bed.

“Good morning.” Flynn was propped against the pillows with his arms behind his head, his hair mussed, his eyes heavy from sleep. He looked warm and sexy and interested, his gaze roaming over her body.

Her hands twitched with the instinctive desire to either cover herself like Botticelli’s Venus or grab something to hide behind. Last night, she’d ogled him shamelessly and he’d done his little catwalk thing, but she didn’t feel nearly as brave in the cold light of day. For starters, there was a lot more natural light in the room this morning than there had been last night. Then there was the fact that it had been a while since she’d done a sit-up or an ab-crunch and even longer since she’d subjected herself to a bikini wax. A few hours ago, none of that had mattered, but with Flynn staring at her so openly, every flaw, every feature, felt as though it was under the microscope.

Somehow she resisted the impulse to scuttle into bed. Instead, she squared her shoulders and looked him in the eye.

“Good morning,” she said. “Would you like coffee?”

He dragged his gaze to her face, looking rather gratifyingly distracted.

“You should probably know that if you told me you had an invisible jet parked around the corner right now, I’d totally believe you,” he said, his tone bordering on the reverential.

She laughed, even as her confidence skyrocketed. “Aren’t you a little old for Wonder Woman fantasies?”

“No one is too old for Wonder Woman fantasies.” He flipped the quilt back on the empty side of the bed. “Come back to bed and I’ll let you use your golden lasso on me.”

“Make a girl an offer she can’t refuse, why don’t you.”

She approached the bed, aware of him watching her every move with focused avidity. There was so much admiration and lust in his gaze that it was impossible for her not to be flattered. She climbed onto the bed and began a slow crawl toward him. His eyelids dropped to half-mast as he watched her gently swaying breasts.

“You didn’t have plans today, did you?” he asked as she drew closer.

“Nothing concrete.”

“Good.”



He abandoned his casual posture and reached for her, pulling her into his lap.

Two hours and a shower later, she watched Flynn get dressed as she fastened the back clasp on her bra.

“You know if men had to wear bras they’d have electromagnetic catches and Kevlar cups, right?” he said as he zipped up his jeans.

“Sure. You guys would probably sneak a phone transmitter in there somewhere, too. Maybe even a miniature TV screen.”

“Now you’re talking. Not that I have anything against black lace, for the record. I wouldn’t want you getting the wrong idea on that one.”

“Noted. Thanks.”

She pulled her red sweater from her chest of drawers.

“So, where am I taking you for lunch?” Flynn asked. “We seem to have skipped breakfast altogether. Not sure how that happened.”

“Aren’t you?”

“I have a few ideas, but it’s all just a blur, really. I may need a play-by-play reenactment later on to refresh my memory.”