“Kiss me, Rowan.” His hands come up and rest warmly on my thighs. His gaze travels down briefly to my chest and I glance down to see what has caught his attention. My shirt is soaked through and my nipples are pushing hard against the material. When I look back at Flynn, he runs his tongue over his bottom lip while he stares at my breasts.
When he looks back to my eyes, he merely says, “Please” and it’s all over for me. I lean forward, bringing my hands to cradle his face. When my lips meet his, his mouth is already open and waiting and my tongue dives straight in. The kiss is instantly molten and desire rockets through my body.
Proving that Flynn’s workouts clearly focus on strong abs, he sits straight up, bringing my weight up with him. Without breaking the kiss, he wraps my legs around his waist and pushes me down onto his lap. I’m met with the thick bulge that is pressing against his fly and I can’t stop myself when my hips move to run myself against his hardness.
Flynn answers my move by gripping my waist and pushing me down even harder against him, all the while ravaging my mouth. My head is spinning, lost in the sensation of this kiss, the way our hips moving against each other causes moisture to flood between my legs.
Tearing his lips off mine, Flynn pushes his nose into my neck and whispers his lips against me, “Fuck, Rowan... I want you so bad. Tell me you want me to.”
Somewhere—deep down in my brain—something is yelling at me to stop. I push it away from me, refusing to listen. My body is taking over and my brain has no business butting in.
“I do,” is all I say and then he’s kissing me again.
Flynn’s hands grab the bottom of my shirt and he peels it upward. Our faces break apart so he can get the offending material up and over my head. He throws it carelessly aside but rather than kissing me again, he merely leans back and looks at my breasts. Bringing his hand up, he lightly runs his knuckles over the swells and valley. “Christ... you’re perfect. Absolutely perfect.”
His voice is so reverent I have to close my eyes so I can just revel in it for a moment. No man has ever looked at me with such worship.
My eyes snap open when I realize Flynn has leaned forward and flicked his tongue over my nipple. I gasp in surprise and pleasure. He peeks up at me with a mischievous smile, his hazel eyes barely showing through his lashes, and places his lips back against my breast.
“You’re so responsive,” he says, while his lips graze my skin. It causes a ripple of pleasure to shoot through me. I’ve never been this reactive with a man before, but with the barest of touches or a few sensual words, my body almost explodes in pleasure.
I remember the dream I had about Flynn—the orgasm that fired through me with him just kissing behind my knee, and I realize that I’m responsive to Flynn because there is a deeper connection there than any I’ve ever felt before.
It is born of a relationship that was forged under very unique circumstances, and then cemented due to the fact that Flynn is a genuine soul. He’s been about the most perfect friend I could ever wish for.
And that thought douses me with cold water. Because it all comes flooding back to me. Flynn is my friend, and that is all I want him to be.
Right?
Yes, right. That is all he can be. If we make this sexual, then friendship is excluded. I think that is the way things work, at least to my limited knowledge.
Even though Flynn’s mouth is working at my nipple and I want nothing more than him to fuck me into oblivion, the voice in my head is now screaming so loud, I can’t ignore it.
Grabbing Flynn’s head, I gently push him away.
“I’m sorry,” I say, as I scrabble up from his lap. Grabbing my t-shirt, I hold it in front of me. I look down into Flynn’s confused expression. “I can’t do this.”
Then I turn and run for my bedroom.
14
I’m sitting in the driveway outside of my parents’ house. We’re having an impromptu family dinner to which I invited Rowan, but she declined. It’s been a tiny bit awkward between us for the last few weeks, and I’m awash in frustration.
Closing my eyes, I lean back against the headrest and think of the kiss we shared in the kitchen. It was filled with as much passion as the first kiss but with added sexual intensity. There is no doubt in my mind that we were headed for a full-blown fuck-a-thon when Rowan pulled away from me.
When I think about the look she had on her face, my stomach twists into a painful knot. It was filled with longing and sadness but even worse, there was fear.
I followed her back to her bedroom to find her sitting on her bed, hands by her side, head hanging down. She had put the wet t-shirt back on and didn’t look up when I walked in.
“Rowan... what’s wrong?” I had asked.
She shook her head, refusing to meet my eyes. Not to be deterred, I stepped right up to her and knelt at her feet. Placing my hands on her knees, I asked again, “Please tell me what’s wrong. Did I do something to upset you?”
I held my breath while I waited for her answer, because honestly, the only thing I could think of—the most terrible thought that was running through my head—was that Rowan had suffered from some type of sexual trauma.
Her eyes met mine and they were still sad, but there was no longer fear there. I’m assuming because there wasn’t an ounce of sexual tension between us right at the time. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Did I misread your signals?” I asked, wanting to know fully why she pulled away.
Again, she shook her head. “I wanted you as much as you wanted me.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
Rowan brought her hands up and placed them over mine. She looked at me with such sincerity I knew that whatever she was getting ready to lay on me would be a belief so rooted into her very fiber, that there would be no swaying her from it.
“Flynn,” she said, her voice filled with resolve. “I can’t risk my friendship with you. Turning this into something sexual would do that. It would ruin our friendship and frankly, you’re the first real friend I’ve ever had. I don’t want to lose that.”
“But it wouldn’t—” I started to insist but she cut me off.
“It would. Things always change when sex is involved.”
They get better, I wanted to shout at her. It would be fucking fantastic if we could build this relationship higher.
But Rowan wasn’t having any of it. She just leaned forward and laid a very chaste kiss on my cheek, and murmured, “I’m sorry. But I can’t.”
Rowan woke up the following morning, and greeted me with exuberance. She chattered away about being excited to start working for Nix, and that we were out of laundry detergent but that she’d pick some up on the way home, and that she appreciated me looking out for Capone during the day while she was gone. It’s like nothing had ever transpired between us and the kiss was forgotten.
The only small measure of satisfaction I got was from throwing the friend card out and slapping her in the face with it. We had a small argument the next morning when she got ready to leave. I grabbed my keys off the counter and tossed them at her.
“Take my car,” I had said.
She caught them deftly and then tossed them right back. “No way. I’m taking public transit.”
“Rowan,” I warned, tossing the keys back to her, “as your friend, I am offering you my car and saving you forty-five minutes on your commute. Don’t be an ass—be a friend. Just take the damn car.”
She caught the keys and opened her mouth to argue, but then she snapped it shut. “Fine. But I’m filling your car up with gas each week.”
“Fine,” I muttered and turned away to go take a shower.
Opening my eyes, I look out the windshield to my parents’ house. I’m looking forward to seeing everyone so I need to shake off my morose thoughts. I need to accept things the way they are between Rowan and me.
She’s absolutely right. We have a great friendship, and while I’ve known the joys of close friends throughout my life, I
’m honored that I’m her one true friend.
The only problem is, I want to be more than friends, and I know she does too... she’s just too scared to take the risk.
“How’s it going with your new roommate, Flynn?”
I swallow the last bite of apple pie before I answer my mom. “Going great. We get along well.”
And I want to get her naked and worship her body for hours on end, but I don’t voice those thoughts out loud.
“Next time we get together, you have to bring her.”
I smile as I relish the faint Irish lilt my mom still bears, even though she’s lived in the States for the last twenty-seven years. Nora Caldwell, with her fiery red hair and vivid green eyes, is forever gracious and has always opened up our family home to my friends.
“I will, Mom,” I assure her, hoping she drops the subject.
“Nix told us all about how you met her.” This from Nick Caldwell, my dad.
I glare over at Nix, who is staring hard at his empty plate. Emily is sitting next to him and tries to suppress a grin.
“He did, did he?”
“It’s kind of romantic, don’t you think?” my mom asks.
Still glaring at Nix, I answer, “We’re just friends, Mom. Nothing more.”
“Oh,” my mom says, clearly disappointed I haven’t found the love of my life yet. Although who knows if that’s Rowan. She won’t give me the time of day to see if we can have more than a friendship.
Nix raises his head up and catches my glare, which is still aimed his way. He does nothing more than give me a smirk before he says, “Well... Emily and I have some news.”
Everyone goes silent and turns to stare at them. They had gotten engaged a few months ago while visiting Linc and Ever in Phoenix. I assume we’re getting ready to hear about their wedding plans, and I’m not disappointed.
“We’ve decided against a big, formal wedding. In fact, we only want our immediate family attending. And we want to do it on December 25th because Linc only has a small break in his season where he can come.”
Everyone breaks into talk around the table, excited that the date has been set and it’s a little less than three months away. Nix holds his hands up to get everyone’s attention. “There’s one more detail I need to mention. We’re going to have it in the U.S. Virgin Islands... St. John to be exact.”
“Oh, a destination wedding,” my mom says as she clasps her hands to her chest, her eyes getting misty.
“Don’t cry, Aunt Nora,” Nix says as he steps from his chair and gives her a hug.
I smile at Nix’s uncharacteristic display of affection. It comes so easy to him nowadays and it’s a damn sight better than the grumpy-ass attitude he wore after returning from the war.
Once Nix rose up from his chair, it was like open season. We all stand up, pushing our chairs back, and hugs and kisses are passed around in congratulations.
I step up to Nix and we clasp hands, pulling each other in for a manly hug/back-slap combo.
“I’m happy for you, man.”
Nix looks over at Emily, who is standing there with her arm wrapped around Uncle Hank’s waist. “I’m a lucky guy.”
The tenderness in his eyes pangs my heart, and I feel envious. I want to look at someone like that.
Emily glances over at Nix and gives him a smile. It is full of love and devotion.
“Emily is a lucky girl,” I tell him.
“She’s my everything,” he says, and my green-eyed monster starts roaring. I’m still able to pull out a happy smile for Nix as I head over to Nix’s dad and Emily to give my congratulations.
Emily steps into a hug. After giving her a squeeze, I turn to Uncle Hank and clap him on the back. “You’re losing your babies,” I tell him.
Uncle Hank chuckles but then looks over at Emily. “Nope. I’m gaining a daughter and a damn fine one at that.”
It tickles me but Emily blushes a pretty pink over the compliment. She gives him another hug. “And I’m gaining another dad.”
“Okay, you two,” I say. “You’re making me sick. Stop it already.”
Uncle Hank chuckles. “You’ll understand it one day, Flynn. When you find that someone. Everything changes.”
God, I hope so. I really do.
“So, Emily... have you already talked to Linc and Ever?”
“Yeah, we had to find out when Linc could make it before we finalized the date. He has a game against the Sabres on the 23rd and he’ll fly out that night to St. John. Then he has to be back in Phoenix on the 28th.”
I nod in understanding. Linc’s schedule is crazy during the NHL season. “What about Renner? Have you talked to her?”
Emily shakes her head. “We were going to call her in the morning. It’s past midnight there.”
My sister, Renner, lives in Dublin with her rock star boyfriend, Cillian. “You don’t give my sis enough credit,” I admonish Emily. “She’s living the rock-star life. She’ll be up.”
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I hold it up to Emily and ask, “Do you mind?”
She smiles and shakes her head. “Go for it. She can yell at you for waking her up.”
I hit Renner’s name from my Favorite list where she resides at the top because my sister is my most favorite person in the world. I talk to her a few times a week in addition to almost daily texts because, hey, I’m her brother and I worry about her. I don’t know this Cillian dude very well and although he seems to make her happy, it’s my duty as an older and over-protective brother to make sure she stays that way.
The phone rings four times before Renner answers. Her voice is heavy with sleep. “This better be good, Flynn, or I’m going to fly back to Jersey and murder you.”
“What the hell are you doing sleeping? Shouldn’t you be out partying with Cillian and his band or something?”
Renner lets out a big yawn. “Contrary to popular belief, our life isn’t all about sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll. It’s just about the sex, and I’m exhausted after the fun Cillian had with me tonight.”
“Ewwww, Renner. TMI. I don’t need to know that shit.”
“Well, then quit calling me at ungodly hours. I’m cranky,” she snaps back.
We’re silent a moment and then we both start laughing, her giggles ringing through like a charming melody.
“So, why did you call, O brother o’mine?”
“We just got done having a family dinner and Nix and Emily announced their wedding plans. I wanted to make sure that you and Cillian could come. It’s going to be on December 25th in St. John.”
Renner lets out a high-pitched squeal and I hear Cillian yelling, “What the fuck’s wrong?” I have a clear mental image of him sitting straight up in bed, looking around in a panic.
Renner whispers a, “Sorry babe. Go back to sleep. I’ll tell you all about it in the morning.”
After a moment, she whispers into the phone, “Yes... we can definitely come. Over The Edge is taking a break from their tour over the holidays.”
“Awesome! I can’t wait to see you, Ren.”
“Same here. So how are things going with the roommate situation?”
I look around the room. Everyone is engaged in conversation, but I don’t want anyone to hear what I’m about to say.
“Hold on,” I tell her as I walk through the living room and step out onto the front porch. The early October weather is chilly and I’m glad I wore a long-sleeved shirt tonight.
I had told Renner about Rowan. About how I had rescued her, how she came to live at my apartment, and I told her all about Juice. She knows Rowan is living with me on a permanent basis now, but she doesn’t know much more than that. I’m thinking I can use some girlie advice right now.
“I could use some guidance... about Rowan.”
“Shoot,” she says, matter of factly.
“Well... we’ve become really good friends over the last several weeks. I don’t know much about Rowan’s background but she says I’m really the first true friend she’s ever ha
d.”
“Awww. That’s so sweet.”
“Yeah... my teeth hurt it’s so sweet. Quit interrupting.”
“Sorry... grump-ass.”
“Anyway... we’ve kissed twice, and it was... well, it was explosive. I mean... we both have an intense attraction to one another.”
“But?” she prompts.
“But, last time, we were getting pretty hot and heavy and she pulled away. She stopped it and she said she couldn’t go there with me because she didn’t want to risk our friendship. She said sex would change everything and she didn’t want to lose me as a friend. And it’s driving me fucking nuts because I know she wants me the way I want her. And I’m all messed up about it and don’t know what to do.”
Renner is silent for a moment and I wait for a pearl of wisdom to come through the phone and save my sanity. Instead, she only says, “I’m sorry, Flynn. That sucks.”
“That’s it? That’s all you got for me? Sorry... and it sucks?”
“Well, I get where she’s coming from. Sex does change everything. It opens up a whole new level of intimacy, which will naturally bring you closer.”
“But that’s a good thing, right?”
“Yes, but the consequences if it doesn’t work out would be disastrous. You can’t go backward to friendship. If you take it to the next level, and it doesn’t work out... then it’s over. If she cherishes this friendship the way you say she does, then this would be a very scary proposition for her.”
“Bullshit,” I tell her. “We could still be friends. Besides... why wouldn’t it work out? We have a lot in common, and I really like her, Ren. A lot.”
“I hear you, Flynn. I’m just saying I get where she’s coming from. I think as women, we tend to worry about that stuff more than men do. I mean, let’s face it, you probably just want to get in her pants.”
That’s true... I do want to get into her pants. But fuck, I want so much more. I want someone to be my everything. I’ve wanted it so bad since Marney died that I can taste it on my lips... and it tastes like ambrosia.
I know Rowan will taste like ambrosia.
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