Sierra slapped her palm against the counter and threw her head back on a scream. At the same moment, Flynn plunged even deeper and jerked his hips against hers as he came so hard his vision blacked out. Or did his eyes shut? However it happened, the orgasm fucking decimated him in the best possible way.
When his ears stopped ringing, Flynn heard their ragged breaths fall into sync. He pulled out, lifted her into his arms, and then dropped onto the couch. Sierra curled up, hands right over his heart, face tucked against his collarbone.
“I was wrong,” she murmured sleepily. “Sex does live up to the hype.”
“I’m not sure I was in on the first part of that conversation, but I’m damn glad to hear it.”
“I meant what I said. Before. About having faith in you.”
“Goes both ways, babe.”
Sierra lifted her head. A single tear glistened in the corner of each eye. “Knowing I can trust you means everything. I didn’t believe I ever would again. You don’t just physically make me feel safe. I trust you to keep my heart safe, too.” Then she tucked her head back down.
Flynn was gutted by her statement. Once he’d watched a fisherman on the shore run his knife up the white underbelly of . . . well, some kind of fish. All the bloody entrails tumbled out.
Yeah. That was exactly what he felt like. This woman who life had bitch slapped, over and over again, hadn’t lost faith. No, she’d put it all in the man who lied to her about who he was every single damn day.
And that’s what made Flynn realize he was pretty sure he was falling in love with her.
What the hell was he supposed to do about that?
Chapter Fourteen
Sierra sprawled on the floor of the elementary school gym, breathing hard. Her elbow stung where it’d knocked the floor. Her head ached a little from where Karen had accidentally yanked at her hair before they’d both lost balance and toppled over.
She felt great.
Who knew that a self-defense class would make her feel that way? On a bunch of levels?
First of all, she was proud of Flynn for how quickly he’d pulled it together. He’d only come up with the idea eight days ago, and here they were finishing the first class with ten people in it.
She was proud of herself for drawing the brochure. She’d sketched Wonder Woman in a bunch of kicking, fighting, awesome poses, but with the faces of Mollie, Norah, and Lily. Anyone who drank coffee, went to the doctor or had a kid in school would recognize them. This week she planned to draw something to pull the tourists in. Because after today, she knew that even attending just one class would make a difference to a woman’s safety.
Sierra felt great for attending the class, not wimping out in fear of a few bumps and bruises. Which she’d definitely garnered. As had everyone else. But it was fun and empowering as all get-out to realize that, thanks to gravity and physics and a little centuries-old Eastern martial arts mysticism, a woman could take down a man a foot taller than her. Or at least put him out of commission long enough to run for safety, screaming at the top of her lungs.
Even the screaming had felt great. Primal. It came from deep in her belly, and seemed to have released some of the tension and fear and, yes, anger about her situation that she’d carried around like a turtle lugging a backward shell.
And, truth be told, she tingled just about everywhere after watching her muscled boyfriend demonstrate moves barefoot, in just a tank and gym shorts. That body was her playground, now. It had been for a week. Sierra still could barely believe it. Could hardly believe all the different ways they’d explored and enjoyed each other.
She couldn’t get enough of him. Not just Flynn’s body, but being with him. Hanging out, walking on the beach, laughing over dinner with his brothers before watching a movie. Ordinary dating stuff that felt extraordinary.
Flynn laced his hands together behind his back and then straightened his arms. “This will open up your chest muscles. Every move has a counter move; every muscle has a set of muscles that balance it. You’ve got to be sure to stretch so you don’t stiffen up.”
Sierra tried to mimic him. She got her fingers laced, but her elbows stayed bent. Glancing around the room, the other women were having the same problem.
When Flynn noticed some grimaces, he unpretzeled himself and held up one hand. “Don’t force it. You can only do what you can do. Take ownership of that. Be proud of your achievements. Don’t focus on your limitations. Not just in this class, but in life.” Then he shook his head. An almost . . . flustered look had his lids flashing down, and his lips pursing. “Sorry. I’m used to teaching kids. You guys probably don’t want a side helping of a life lecture with your self-defense.”
Karen blew a raspberry. “Don’t censor yourself, Sensei.” She’d also teased him with the titles of Karate-San and Master Yoda. “I’ll take a giant scoop of whatever you dish out.”
“Ewww—” Jackie, who worked at the salon and always ordered fries with a double dip of cheese to go with her Diet Coke, frowned at Karen,”—and yes, she’s right. What you’re teaching isn’t just physical. It’s about self-confidence, right? I don’t know about the rest of you, but I run low on that most days.”
Sierra nodded fiercely. “It’s so easy to assume that everyone else is better than me, more together. But deep down, on the inside? They’re probably as messed up in their own way as I am. It’s good to be reminded that I am enough.”
Immediately, she worried that she shouldn’t have spoken up. But one glance at the pride beaming from Flynn’s blue eyes told Sierra he appreciated that she got it.
Fluidly, he bent over and touched his toes. The women were much better at this move, with almost everyone trailing their fingertips on the floor. “You don’t get better without pushing yourself. But take breaks. Set reasonable expectations. Don’t book a flight to Hollywood and try to take down the Rock tomorrow with one rolled shoulder to the gut.”
“Worth it, if he’s naked,” Karen quipped.
Sierra bit back a giggle. Maybe it was true that exercise gave you a natural high. Because Karen was sure, um, loose.
“You’re all strong. And you did good work today. Give yourselves a hand.” Flynn clapped, and everyone joined in with matching grins. “Spread the word, too. Same time next weekend.”
Sierra headed for the wall where all their shoes and socks were lined up. A handful of women came with her, but the other handful fluttered around Flynn. It reminded Sierra of the end of class in art school. Kids would flock to the professor, jostling to eke out some praise for their work.
She didn’t mind one bit. Because Sierra knew he was hers, even if they hadn’t talked it through. She knew it from the tenderly possessive way Flynn cupped her face when he kissed her. The way bags of Doritos kept mysteriously showing up in her locker at the Gorse. The way he completely dropped his guard and gave those rolling, deep belly laughs she was so tickled to wring out of him.
“This was fun.” Karen screwed up her button nose as she tightened her messy ponytail. “I mean, I’ll be cursing your guy tomorrow when I’m too stiff to roll out of bed, but I’m glad I came.”
“Yeah. Some aches are good aches.” And Sierra meant all of the ones that Flynn had given her in the last week from their vigorously awesome sex. The look of satisfaction that she was responsible for putting on his face each and every time was even more empowering than learning how to take down an attacker.
“Are you being proactive? Or are you working out old demons?”
Okay. So maybe she’d visualized Rick’s face when flipping Karen over her shoulder with a satisfying grunt. Sierra didn’t want to give a dismissive lie out of the habit of protecting her secret. This class was a big gift Flynn gave them, and it was probably helping people banish bad memories. Choosing her words carefully, she said, “Um, both? I’ve been in situations I wish I could’ve gotten out of better.”
“Me, too. More than once. I’m not proud of not doing anything to help myself, either. That’s why I l
iked what Flynn said at the end. Not beating myself up about what I didn’t do a decade ago is a hard pill to swallow.”
It was like Karen was pulling words—and feelings—straight from Sierra’s head. So she’d take a chance and share a thought that had occurred to her mid-class. “What if we turn it around? Instead of trying to ignore that humiliation from not being able to save ourselves, we accept it as a stepping-stone. One that brought us to this class. That the bad feelings were the kick in the pants we needed to force ourselves to do better, be stronger.”
Karen bit her lip, considering. Her expression morphed from thoughtful to hopeful with arched eyebrows and wide brown eyes. “That’s very wise.”
“Only if it works. We both have to promise to try believing it.” Sierra stuck out her hand, with just the little finger extended. “Pinkie swear.”
“You got it.” They shook, and Sierra felt about twenty pounds lighter. She’d never be able to fully remove the weight of her secret past. But she wasn’t letting the fear of it control her anymore.
Yep, this new life of hers in Bandon was pretty great.
And as she savored that thought, melting into her brain with the sweetness of a chocolate truffle melting on her tongue, Sierra felt a kiss on the top of her head. Excellent. It had been a whole hour since they’d last kissed, and she was desperate for Flynn’s lips.
She didn’t even finish the bow on her shoelaces before swiveling around. Sierra looped her arms around his neck and pulled him down into a deep kiss. Well, it started out as just a kiss, but their tongues were magnetized or something, because they just twined around each other at every single chance.
Karen gave a soft tug on her ponytail. “Hey, lovebirds, this is an elementary school. Keep it clean.”
Flynn straightened up, arms in the air. “Not my doing. The woman’s insatiable for me.”
Oh, he’d pay for that later. Because she’d discovered last night that the big MMA fighter was particularly ticklish on the soles of his feet. Her vengeance would be brutal. Sierra whacked Flynn lightly across his shin before standing. “Hey, don’t throw me under the bus. You kissed me back!”
He ran the back of his knuckles lightly along her jaw. And paired the motion with an utterly heart-melting smile that crinkled the corners of his oh-so-blue eyes. “That’s because I’m equally insatiable for you.”
“Ugh.” Karen scrunched up her face and shook her head, like she was clearing an Etch A Sketch. “This undiluted romance is harder to watch than the PDA.”
“Sorry. We’ll take it in the hall.” Flynn grabbed her hand and pulled Sierra at an almost jog toward the door. “That wasn’t a kiss. That was a taste. A tease. I need more.”
Laughing, she tried to slow him down, pointing back at his sneakers. “What about your shoes?”
He took her other hand, too. Pressed swift kisses along each of her knuckles. “I don’t need shoes to kiss you, beautiful girl.” He pushed against the horizontal metal bar that opened the door with one hip. Flynn didn’t bother to turn around the last few steps. His eyes were locked on Sierra’s, with a single-minded focus that she loved.
Flynn’s hands ripped from Sierra’s. “What the fuck?” Except the last word was more of a whooshed exclamation, as he fell sideways and hit the floor, hard.
A child in ridiculously huge football pads clutched his belly and laughed. Sierra couldn’t believe that he’d run out of nowhere just to take Flynn out at the knees. Well nobody, not even a nine-year-old, would get away with taking out her man.
Sierra bent over, bracing her hands on her knees. She didn’t yell, but she did use her stern voice. She’d babysat for extra money for almost a decade. A good, stern voice could be wonderfully effective in producing both guilt and confessions in anyone younger than a teenager.
“Why did you deliberately run into Mr. Maguire and push him over?”
The voice did the trick. His laughter cut off. And he started shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “To test the teacher. Mommy took his class while Braden and me practiced our throws outside. If he was good enough to teach Mommy this stuff, then he should be ready for the element of surprise.”
“You know what? That’s an excellent point. If we were still in class, it would’ve been a good thing to try. But now that class is over, you just knocked him down for no reason.”
He didn’t need any prompting. After tugging a few times to get his helmet off, he turned to Flynn, now sitting with his knees raised and arms circling them. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just want to be sure you were a good teacher.”
Flynn nodded slowly, his lips pursed and squeezed to the side in an overly dramatic “thinking” look. He sized up the kid slowly, from the jet-black hair sticking up to the grass sticking out from his cleats.
Finally, he sucked in a long, loud breath. “You’re looking out for your mom. I get that. We’re square. Knuckles.” The two bumped fists, the sides of their hands, and then fake-spit. “What’s your name?”
“Matthew Tanaka.”
Sierra wanted to make friends with him, too. Just without the spitting. “What grade are you in?”
“I’m gonna be in fourth when we start back.”
She pointed at his pads under a Seahawks jersey that almost hung to his knees. “You’re going to be on the football team?”
“Yeah. Just like Braden.” Those black eyes sparkled with obvious hero worship of what she assumed was his big brother. “He’s teaching me to throw a spiral. I’m not good at it yet.”
Flynn blew a raspberry. An unnecessarily wet one that sprayed everywhere and brought the smile back that had slipped from Matthew’s face. “Dude, it’s not even the Fourth of July. You’ve got time. You just keep practicing.” Then he cocked his arm back and mimed a throw.
“That’s what Mommy said.” He shuffled closer to Flynn, and looked between him and Sierra. “But what if Braden’s not teaching me right? What if he knows as soon as I learn, I’ll be better than him?”
“Brothers are sometimes sneaky like that. How much older is he?”
“Five years. He’s in high school.” The awe conveyed in those two hushed words was eight kinds of adorable.
Flynn scrubbed a hand across his mouth. “My big brother’s only three years ahead of me. He can be bossy and a pain in the butt.”
“Yeah.” A big, long-suffering sigh. “That’s Braden.”
Sierra would’ve given anything to be able to hop in a time machine, go back about fifteen years and watch the younger versions of Flynn and Rafe hassle each other. It was probably hysterical. She’d also bet that Flynn held his own from whatever point their height differential disappeared.
She’d also bet that despite the bossiness, Matthew and Braden loved each other fiercely, just like the Maguires. “But if Braden’s that many grades ahead of you, you two would never be on the same team. So I’ll bet that he’s teaching you right.”
“Tell you what. I’m more of a baseball guy, but I can throw a football. What if I come out and toss it around with you two, just to be sure he’s on the up-and-up?”
“Really? That’d be great.”
“Go ask your mom for permission.”
Sierra seized at the opportunity to make a new friend. She’d only met Beth Tanaka today. “Tell her that I’ll hang out and wait with her.”
Flynn went flat on his back, then rolled his knees up to his belly, planted his feet and magically rose to his feet without using his hands at all. Sierra had seen the move in about a zillion vampire shows, but always assumed the actors were helped with wires. Omigod, it was sexy. “Give me ten minutes to scoot my class out the door, and I’ll meet you outside.”
“Thanks, Mr. Maguire.” He only made it one step over the threshold before Sierra stopped him.
“Hey, Matthew.” Before he finished turning around, she drilled her fingers into his ribs, dissolving him into giggles. “You have to learn the same lesson as everyone else did today. Be prepared for that surprise
attack.”
Once he raced off, Sierra slid her arm around Flynn’s waist. “I can’t believe he got the drop on you.”
“Me, neither. For a good cause, though.” He swiped his hand from his forehead down to his neck, and then back over. “I was exactly his age when my mom died.”
Oh, no. She hadn’t realized their mother had been gone for so long. Sierra’s heart broke all over again for him. For all the Maguires. She circled her other arm around his stomach and leaned in to squeeze him tightly. “That’s so young for such a loss.”
“Yeah. I remember how I spent weeks wondering what I could’ve done to protect her.”
“How did she die?” At that age, it was probably either cancer or a drunk driver. Both equally horrible.
The door opened and closed twice, women walking out with a wave and thanks, before Flynn answered. “She died from a gunshot wound.”
There simply was no response to that. So Sierra just pressed her face against his chest and listened to the overly fast, hard thump of his heart. Was it wrong that she felt lucky for not having memories of her parents? For not having that pain of someone so integral being ripped from your life? Obviously the wound had scarred over by now for him. But it was fresh for Sierra, and she ached to comfort him, to figure out a way to make it better.
He stroked her arm, back and forth. “They said it was an accident. Wrong place, wrong time. But that’s too hard for a kid to process, you know? Too random. So I worked through a million scenarios where I could’ve protected her. Including a bunch of superhero stuff, because . . . nine.”
The age right before you went from believing in magic to scoffing at it. Sierra would bet he’d stopped believing faster than was fair, or right. “Of course.”
Never Been Good Page 18
