Highest Bidder (Fanboys Book 2)

by Marie Johnston

  Flynn grunted and slammed into her one last time, his entire body an unyielding wall of man on top of her. He shuddered and groaned, but maintained contact, his kiss morphing from urgent to languid as his climax faded. He held her clit hostage with nothing but the pressure of his finger, but he released it and wrapped his arm around her.

  She was breathing like she’d run a 5K. His chest heaved as if this round had been as profound for him as it had for her. Because Flynn had blown every freaking guy off the planet. He looked as good as he did and he could conjure an orgasm from her as deftly as Dr. Strange summoned a new realm.

  Best vacation ever.

  ***

  Flynn woke to a warm body curved into him. Tilly slept as freely as she lived life, sprawled half across him and over the rest of the bed. Her mouth was slightly open as she puffed air, a thick chunk of light brown hair plastered over her face.

  Damn, she was cute.

  Despite the sun shining through the picture window and the birds chirping cheerful melodies outside, a cloud dimmed his outlook on the day. He had to run to town and meet with John Woods. Normally after spending the night with a girl, Flynn was planning two things: one last round or two of sex, and a good excuse to get the fuck out of Dodge. A work meeting was hands-down the best, but Flynn didn’t want to leave the bed.

  He should get a quick run and a workout in before he left. The sheets were tenting admirably, thanks to the sex bunny he’d uncovered in Tilly. So a good workout and cold shower were even more warranted to keep him from sprouting another erection during his meeting.

  An unbidden smile appeared on his face. Tilly had surprised both of them. She’d been an uninhibited and enthusiastic partner. No shyness, no hiding her body. She accepted herself. And she should. Curves in all the right places, she was so free with herself and him that she had the most astounding orgasms, until he thought she’d clamp off all blood supply to his dick. And she didn’t do it on purpose. No artful body positioning, no whatever the hell those vaginal calisthenics women did to fake enjoyment. Just Tilly coming like a force of nature. He was one lucky son of a bitch to have experienced it—to have been the one to cause it.

  As if his ego in the bedroom needed more stoking, but once puberty had passed, sex was just one more thing he’d had to master and dominate. And last night, he’d dominated.

  Carefully, he extracted himself from his slumbering partner. Fucking work.

  He sat up and shook his head. He never thought like that. It was always fucking time off.

  Dressing in his running shorts and a T-shirt, he made little noise, but Tilly rolled over, letting out a soft moan in her sleep. Her head popped up with a floof of hair. She rolled again to face him.

  “Morning.” She yawned and pushed her hair out of her face. He wanted to fist his hand in that hair and take her again.

  He’d gotten a pack of twelve condoms, but he’d need to pick another one up if they were going to share a bed this week.

  “Hey. I’m going for a quick run before I leave for the city.”

  She stretched her hands overhead and fuuuck… Her breasts jutted up to the ceiling, her lean legs curved at an enticing angle. A quickie instead of a run would— No. Too soon for his pride for a quickie. And since they’d had another round in the middle of the night, she could use a recharge.

  “I should try a run. Is there a nice trail nearby, or should I run on the road?”

  He should offer to go with her, but he hated missing his workout. He kept his runs short and hard because he usually had a long day of work in front of him.

  She must’ve noticed his indecision. “Don’t wait for me.” Waving him off, she sat all the way up. “I have all day to bond with nature.”

  Guilt ate at him. What had made him think sneaking away for a day of work was okay?

  He didn’t dare touch her before he left. “I’ll have my phone on me if you need anything,” he called as he walked out of the room.

  “’Kay.” Her soft footsteps faded as she went into her bedroom to dress.

  He frowned as he went down the stairs. If she was okay with him leaving for the day, then he shouldn’t whine about it.

  His run wasn’t as brutal as usual. He let up on his pace and stuck to the dirt roads that wound around the lake and its various cabins. Vibrant green trees surrounded him, rustling in the breeze. Glittering blue beckoned him. The water would be nice. Tilly wanted to go fishing. He hadn’t been fishing in forever, always had too much to do and lacked the gumption to sit on a boat with nothing but his thoughts. But with Tilly… He’d have to rent a boat in town, but he’d make it happen. He looked forward to it.

  After a couple of miles, he turned around and sped up. If he dithered any longer, he’d be late and John was already antsy about the project. He was only Flynn’s age and Flynn suspected that was why he was so skittish about trusting such a big project to him. But Flynn had come highly recommended, and even he could tell the dude was all about image.

  The cabin came into sight and so did the swaying, scrumptious behind of Tilly. He started covering the distance between them. Startled, she whipped around to look at him—and skidded over a loose patch of gravel. His chest froze as she went down, sprawled on the ground. That had to have done some damage.

  “Oh, shit.” He sprinted the rest of the way, but she was already on her feet, brushing herself off.

  “I’m so clumsy.” She threw him a smile and started jogging.

  He fell in next to her and peeked down at her knee. “You’re bleeding.”

  “Just a little road rash. Wow, it’s really gorgeous out here.”

  Her breathy tone reminded him of sex, but he glanced back down to her knee. She hit a good pace, one he honestly hadn’t expected of her, but a rivulet of blood ran down her leg. He’d gotten enough road rash to know how painful it was, but she’d barely paused.

  “Do you want to stop and take care of your wound?” He wanted to stop and take care of her wound.

  “Nah. We don’t have anything for it here anyway. It’ll wash off in the shower and I’ll slap a bandage on it.” She passed him a smile when she caught his perplexed stare. “Really, it’s okay. I’m a big girl.”

  With a high pain tolerance. He’d been known to limp home after a wipeout. They were a few hundred yards from the cabin when she punched him on the shoulder.

  “Race you!” She sped off.

  He could only shake his head before he raced after her. He passed her—sort of—easily and reached the cabin first.

  He stopped to stretch, but she darted up the porch and ran inside, her laughter filtering out. “I’m going to shower,” she yelled from inside. “Wanna conserve water?”

  He’d been about to drop for some pushups, but the inner debate over whether to finish his workout or fuck a hot chick in the shower was over in a heartbeat. Rushing in the cabin and up the stairs, he was about to detour for a condom when he spied a trail of foil packets leading to the guest bathroom.

  When had she…

  He didn’t care. Snagging one on his way, he was naked before he hit the bathroom.

  Chapter Eight

  “I think we should go out to eat tonight.”

  Tilly dipped her fishing rod, hoping to entice a bite. No luck. “Sure.”

  Their fishing boat rocked with the waves. They were in the middle of the lake, and instead of nervous tendrils twisting her gut, Tilly was as relaxed as she’d ever been. She still didn’t know how to swim, but Flynn had bought her a life jacket and refused to let her pay him back. It was already Saturday and he’d been treating her to her bucket-list vacation all week.

  Stellar sex—a few times a day. Hiking, done. Fishing, done. Fishing out of a boat—she hadn’t caught a damn thing, but done. Swimming in the lake. Flynn had worked with her on some swimming strokes, then given up, but he was determined to teach her something. He’d made her promise to take lessons when she returned home. She’d only accepted because now she wouldn’t be saving every penny for
the adult resource center.

  “I don’t think they’re biting today. Let’s head back.” Flynn packed up. He fished and maneuvered the boat like he came out here every weekend.

  Maybe he did. After almost a whole week together, she still didn’t know much about him. But she knew him. He was a perfectionist, for some reason she hadn’t figured out yet. If he found any tiny task to be done in the cabin, he was on it. That giant truck of his carried a massive tool box in the back. She loved watching him tinker. The subtle tension in his face eased as he lost himself in the task. He liked to take care of himself, but she’d noticed more carbs sneaking onto his plate and he was no longer killing himself with every morning workout. He’d even worn athletic shorts and a performance T all day yesterday instead of his usual jean shorts and polo.

  His job must be stressful for him to have so visibly relaxed since arriving a week ago. When she’d first seen him at Arcadia, he’d worn his suit like a second skin—or so it had seemed at the time. But she bet if she crossed paths with him again, Flynn would be pulling at his collar or twitching his cuffs like he couldn’t wait to shed his apparel.

  When they retired to the cabin in the evenings, they didn’t just go to bed, nor did they each talk about themselves. Instead, they had Iron Man and Captain America marathons. She’d even produced Suicide Squad and he’d requested that she put the swimsuit on again so he could rip it off—with his teeth.

  Her Puddin’.

  They reached the dock and he helped her off. She took care of the tackle while he got the boat hooked to the pickup. Tomorrow they’d go back to regular life, so he had to return the boat tonight.

  She couldn’t fight the heavy feeling of this week coming to an end. Her resolve to keep everyone at a distance was fading around Flynn. Her mission to pay back her debts had been accomplished. Well, except her school loans, but those just cut into her fun money more than anything.

  It was daunting to think about talking about her life with someone. After the hot tub incident, she’d been prepared for Flynn to ask. Only he hadn’t.

  Disappointment sat like lead in her belly. Like her, he seemed to be making the most of their time together but not digging too deep so they could part ways.

  Did she want to go back to a Flynn-less life?

  What about him? He didn’t seem worse for wear after spending a week with Crazy J. Other than being more relaxed, he laughed more every day they were together. Each superhero movie they watched spurred conversations about what they’d played with as kids. It was a safe topic and they didn’t venture beyond their experiences with the toys.

  She’d tried to learn his favorites. Candy? He didn’t eat candy. She’d die without Hot Tamales. Color? Whatever he stripped off her. Hers? As if she could pick just one. Pet? She’d said cat and changed the subject.

  After everything was put away, she went into the cabin and up to her room. Well, his room. Her stuff had migrated over by Tuesday, when it had become apparent they were tearing through the stash of condoms.

  She dug through her clothes to find something suitable for eating out. Flynn’s footsteps landed behind her and a smile twitched her lips. He liked her bent over, and she liked that he liked it.

  She straightened with an armload of clothing. “What kind of place are we going to? I need to know what to wear.”

  He kissed her neck and she leaned into him. “Wear whatever.”

  Eying her linen shorts and plain shirts, she was grateful she’d packed something without an emblem of some kind. Standing out in a crowd was her thing, but with Flynn, she didn’t want to be Crazy J.

  He backed up and she missed his heat. With a light touch, he spun her around. “What’s wrong?”

  She looked into his green depths, eyes she loved gazing into, then back down at her plain-as-hell clothing. “I don’t know what to wear.”

  He chuckled. “There’s nothing fancy—it’s a lake resort town. There’ll be pizza places and bar and grills. We’ll go someplace fun to celebrate our last night here.”

  “Okay.” The faint churning in her belly was back. Last night with Flynn. Did it bother him, too?

  The cabin was his, though. He could come back anytime he wanted…with anyone he wanted. She worried her lower lip. Wow. That thought fed the acid boiling in her stomach.

  “Tilly, what’s really wrong?”

  He stood in front of her like a wall and his voice was full of concern—for her. How long had she wanted someone to care about her? And Flynn genuinely seemed to. When she went back home and spent her nights alone, at least she’d have that.

  She answered with honesty, but not full disclosure. “I’m sad my vacation’s coming to an end.”

  His eyes dimmed. “Yeah, me too. I needed it.”

  “Maybe we’ll have to do it again sometime.” Her tone was light, joking, but the words fell hard between them.

  “Maybe.” They said nothing for a moment and she shifted her feet. He wasn’t looking for a wife and she wasn’t looking for a husband, but the silence made her feel like she’d asked for a lifetime commitment.

  He dug in her bundle of clothing and withdrew a gauzy blue top. “Wear this. It brings out your eyes.” He tossed it on the bed, went back to her clothing, and snagged a pair of white shorts. “And this because they make your legs look a mile long and I want to peel them off of you.”

  She giggled as she shoved the rest of her armload in the suitcase. “That’s, like, the plainest outfit I’ve ever worn. If I see one of my students, it’ll be like I’m Clark Kent with the glasses. They won’t recognize me. They’d be so disappointed if they saw me this week.”

  An odd expression swept through his features. “You dress up for them?”

  She shrugged. “It’s fun.”

  “What was your excuse in high school?” His question sounded like a joke, but all humor drained from her.

  She snapped the shorts from his hands. “I wore what I had available.”

  Stepping around him, she went to the bed and picked up her shirt. Wacky clothes plus jaw wired shut plus social awkwardness equaled Crazy J. She refused to apologize for being herself. And Flynn—

  “Tilly, I was kidding.”

  She spun, holding her shirt and shorts close to her chest. A part of her argued to keep her mouth shut, but she never listened, not even when it’d earned her a broken jaw. “You were. But here’s the thing. I’m still Crazy J.” She’d started to hate that name almost as much as Tulip. “I can’t change how I dressed then, or how I acted, and since I’m standing here, a survivor of my childhood, I don’t want to.” Stop talking! “I liked you a lot, that was no secret. But you were one of the few guys I never caught laughing at me. You even helped when the mean girls ganged up. You seemed to not mind how I was. So I’m a little hurt to find out that I was a freak to you, too.”

  He stared at her for a second. “What exactly happened when you were a kid?”

  “I don’t want to talk—”

  “I know, but you’ve told me enough that I can deduce what went on.” He folded his arms and sat on the edge of the bed. “I’d like to hear it from you.”

  “Why? After tomorrow, are we going to talk again?” Her frustrations from the week welled and she let them roll off her tongue. “Are we going to hook up or are you actually going to take me out?” She laughed and brushed a stand of hair behind her ear, his gaze tracking the move. “I can see it now. You in your suit and expensive truck, taking me out after Wacky Monday at school.”

  “Wacky Monday?” Understanding dawned and he nodded. “That was why you were—”

  “And the rest of the week isn’t much better. The kids love it and I do, too. I quit caring about what people thought of me when it was obvious they didn’t care about me in the first place. Unless I have some pretentious bitch as a client who won’t pay me unless I dress to the lowest of her standards, then I dress how I want and fuck what others think.”

  “That’s a freedom not all of us have,” he muttered.
She was about to ask him what he meant when he kept going, his voice low. “Why’d you drop out of school, Tilly? Why’d you change your name? Why did you bid such a specific amount?”

  She stomped to her luggage and dropped her items on top. Going out for dinner was no longer appealing. Tears burned the backs of her eyes because the thing was, she wanted to tell him. She wanted him to care about her, but he didn’t. He was only asking for the story, and she had no idea why.

  If she let her past spill out, maybe she could just pretend that Flynn cared, that the emotions she unleashed wouldn’t scare him off. If they did, then he wasn’t the guy for her. An easy platitude, but after the last week with him, she couldn’t imagine another man in her life. “My dad was abusive and my mom was passive and afraid of losing him. When he’d rage, she wouldn’t step in. After each episode, her depression got worse until she quit buying groceries, quit buying food. Clothes shopping? Forget it. I pilfered money from both of them and when I got caught…” She paused to gulp because she’d never admitted this to anyone. “Well, I might’ve talked funny with my jaw wired shut, but it was harder to talk with a broken jaw.”

  Color leeched from Flynn’s face, but she continued. “I should’ve left home after that, but Mom actually stepped in to care for me. I like to think she felt guilty, but she’d never admit it. Why’d I drop out? I left home after Dad caught me feeding a stray cat our precious milk that he’d bought from a gas station because Mom never picked any up.”

  Tilly’s throat swelled and she blinked rapidly, but the tears rolled down her cheek.

  “He beat the cat, then he started on me.”

  She sniffled and looked around for a tissue. There were none.

  “But I got away.” She swiped at her eyes. “Why the specific amount? That’s how much of my hospital bill the Center for Abuse Victims covered. I didn’t even count the supplies and food they gave me while I stayed there. Or the support I got to get my GED. I owe them more than I can ever pay, but it was the least I could do.”