Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Devin
“Your bath is ready,” Flynn says, opening the bathroom door and inviting me in at long last.
I’m surprised to find a spacious room with a clawfoot tub filled with bubbles. The skylight overhead casts a soft glow of moonlight smothered by the overcast sky. The main light is off, but half a dozen candles flicker with soft light.
“I have to admit, when you said this cabin had a bathtub, this was not what I was expecting.”
“What were you expecting?”
“I don’t know. A metal cattle trough?”
“That’s out back.”
“You’re making that up.”
“Grandpa likes to soak directly under the stars.”
“Where did all the bubbles and candles come from?”
“Grandma.”
“Thank her for me when you see her next.”
“Do you need anything else?” Flynn asks, moving toward the door.
“Yeah,” I say, grabbing him by the wrist. “Your help getting into the tub.”
“Devin—”
“And, since you were so concerned about my ankle that you had to carry me to the cabin, I’ll need help while I’m in the tub, too.”
His eyes darken in the candlelight, and I drop his wrist to unbutton the flannel shirt I purchased at the lodge’s gift shop this morning.
I consider making a joke about the stripper thing, but the eye contact is so intense it’s all I can do to keep undressing.
I slowly pull off my tank top next, then peel down my leggings.
Flynn doesn’t say anything.
He doesn’t have to.
That hungry gaze says it all.
Wetness pools between my legs as I finish undressing.
My dirty, mud-stained clothes sit in a heap in the corner of the room, and I wait for him to make the next move. Several charged seconds pass before he undresses, tossing his clothes onto the pile with mine.
So many tattoos.
I want to memorize them all.
With my tongue.
When he drops his boxers, I gasp.
I don’t mean to, but fuck.
That cock.
That’s the cock dreams are made of.
“That’s a pretty bold statement,” Flynn says, making me realize I said the quiet part out loud.
“I’m not taking it back,” I say, tempted to use that steel rod as a handle to help me into the clawfoot tub.
It’s certainly sturdy enough. I already pegged Flynn Conners for a man who would know how to thoroughly fuck a woman, but damn.
That cock is certainly capable of destroying me in all the best ways.
But before I can get my hand around his length, Flynn scoops me into his arms once again, setting me into the warm bubbly water.
“Leave some room for me, baby,” he says, climbing in behind me. He spreads his legs wide so I can sit in between them, and I rest my head back against his chest. His rod of steel presses into my back, but I’m too relaxed to reach behind me to stroke it.
There’ll be time to play with it later.
“How’s the water?” Flynn’s breath tickles the shell of my ear.
“Perfect.”
“And your ankle?”
“Still hurts, but you know.”
“Keep it elevated,” he insists.
“Pretty sure I’m the RN, but I’ll let you boss me around just this once.” I hook it over the side of the tub, and I’m rewarded with his big, calloused hand sliding down my hip and along my thigh. His fingertips graze my knee before his hand moves backward.
I whimper in anticipation.
“You want me to touch you, Devin?”
“Was that part not clear when I invited you into the bathtub?”
His low laughter vibrates against the side of my neck as his thumb skims dangerously close to my center. Another inch or two and my clit would be very fucking happy right about now.
“I’m not going to make it that easy for you, baby. I want you to beg for it a little.”
“I’m not above that,” I tell him.
“You haven’t heard all my terms.”
His thumb continues to stroke me beneath the water, moving a millimeter closer with each caress.
“What are your terms?”
He kisses my temple, sliding his other hand from my neck down to my pebbled nipple poking out of the bubbles. Ever so gently, he traces the peak with a single fingertip.
“I’ll show you pleasure like you’ve never known. All weekend long if that’s what you want.”
He gives my nipple a quick squeeze, and I arch forward into his touch.
I moan as his hand cups my breast, so fucking turned on by the sight of my nipple poking out between two of his splayed fingers.
His tanned hand is so much darker than my milky-white, never-seen-the-sun boob.
Just watching him leisurely fondle me is intoxicating.
“The catch?” I ask, my words mostly a pant.
“If you want me to make you come, you have to keep an open mind.”
“An open mind?” I ask, momentarily concerned that I misread this situation.
Maybe he is an axe murderer. Or maybe this cabin is really his secret sex dungeon.
I haven’t seen the bedroom. For all I know, it could be filled with whips and chains.
It’s fun reading about all that, but I’ve never actually tried BDSM.
“Yes, baby. I want you to keep an open mind about where this could go with us—beyond this weekend.”
Oh. Well, that was…unexpected.
“I’m not looking for anything serious right now,” I say, my words missing half the gumption behind them I intend. Probably because the tip of his thumb just grazed my clit so softly I’m not entirely sure I didn’t imagine it. But damn, it has me on the best kind of edge.
“Why not?”
His thumb applies a gentle pressure against my button, stroking me once.
I whimper, shocked by the intensity of him doing so very little.
“If you want me to keep pleasuring you, Devin, you have to open up to me. Tell me why you don’t want anything serious.”
“You really want to know?”
“I want to know everything about you, baby. The more you share, the more I’ll make you feel so fucking good.”
To prove his point, he pulls his thumb from between my legs when I get quiet.
“You’ll still touch me, even if my answer is pathetic and embarrassing?”
He strums his fingers through my folds, as though he’s playing a guitar cord. How the fuck does each and every touch feel like its own pleasure experience?
“Sweetheart, if you’re honest with me, I’ll make you come so fucking hard you’ll leave your body.”
He inserts a fingertip into my channel, refusing to plunge farther in until I talk.
“Because I’m tired of getting my hopes up,” I admit.
He pushes his finger all the way in, and I my eyes roll backward as I arch into his touch.
“And?” he asks, stilling his movements.
“And the last date was so awful that it cost me my job.”
He swirls his finger inside me, hitting that special spot.
“What happened, baby?”
“I went on a date with a stupid patient.” This is humiliating, but also, right now I’d tell him damn near anything if he just keeps hitting that spot. Fuck, it feels so good to know a man is capable of finding that spot.
“You’re not allowed to do that?”
“Not at the hospital I work at,” I say, moaning halfway through the sentence as he keeps strumming the delicious spot inside me. I rock my hips to meet his rhythm, both desperate for release and desperate to hold onto this feeling forever. “Worked at, that is.”
“Keep talking, baby.”
“My Director of Nursing caught me on a date with him. The least the jerk could’ve done was pretend to go to the restroom before my boss showed up at the restaurant.”
“What’s his name?”
“Why? Are you going to hunt him down or something?” I jest, wondering if Flynn Conners has a touch of morally gray hero in him after all.
He pulls his finger from inside me so suddenly it shocks my system.
“Tell me his name,” he insists in a way that leaves no room for argument. My body tingles with desire at the protective tone.
“Jerek with a J,” I say, shaking my head in shame.
I’m so embarrassed that I fell for the whole thing.
Jerek played me from the moment I stepped into that exam room.
“I don’t remember his last name. I could find it on that post I made to warn other women about him, but Bella punted my phone downstream. ”
“He’s an idiot,” Flynn says, his words a low growl against my ear as he plunges two fingers into me.
I cry out and sink into the instant pleasure.
It’s as though his magic fingers have shut my brain off entirely.
I can no longer remember the idiot’s name, and I don’t fucking care.
All I care about is being in this tub with Flynn.
There is nothing else—no stupid lost job, no failed dates, no worries at all.
There is only this pleasure bubble I never want to leave.
Flynn retracts his fingers slowly, then pushes them back in with one quick, hard thrust. He repeats the motion over and over until I explode.
I see stars everywhere—behind my eyes, in the skylight, in the dying bubbles. The wave of pleasure is brutal yet delightful. I’ve never in my life experienced anything like it. Probably because until tonight, I’ve only ever been with boys.
And Flynn Conners is all man.