Page 35 of Kissing Flynn

When we’ve finished eating, we all head up to our rooms to change. A minute after I close myself inside my room, there’s a knock on the door that connects mine to Flynn’s. I can’t curb my smile as I rush over to swing it open. Flynn stands there in board shorts and a t-shirt, a frown marring his face.

“Please tell me you have a different bathing suit than that bikini you wore to the pool.”

“What?” I ask, rearing back. “Why?”

He huffs a sigh as he steps into my room. “I’ll never be able to play it cool with you in that thing. Too damn sexy. Do you have some basketball shorts and a hoodie you can wear instead? Fuck, I don’t even think that would work.”

A laugh barks out of me, and I shake my head. “Sorry. I only brought two suits, and the one you saw is the more modest of the two.”

“Jesus. Fuck,” he whispers, and I don’t miss the way his cock is suddenly pressing against the material of his shorts.

A thrill rockets through me at knowing just the mere thought of me in a bathing suit makes him hard. My clit throbs in response, and I have a sudden urge to push him back against the wall and have my way with him.

“Maybe I can help you take care of that, first,” I say without a second thought, nodding my head toward his crotch.

Without giving him a chance to respond, I fulfill my fantasy, pushing him until his back hits the wall beside the door. Dropping to my knees before him, I quickly untie the string at his waistband and yank his shorts down to his knees.

“Max, you don’t have to––”

The words cut off with a loud groan as I lick the underside of his cock from base to tip. Not wasting any time, I grip the base and push the tip between my lips, sucking lightly as I take him in as far as I can. I smile inwardly at the sound of his head knocking against the wall behind him as another groan rumbles from his chest. Gripping his cock tighter, I grab his hip with my other hand to hold myself steady as I bob my head, fucking him with my mouth as my tongue licks against the delicate skin.

Flynn’s hands tangle in my hair, not to guide me, but to simply hold on while I work him over, and less than a minute later, he grunts, his cock throbbing as his release fills my mouth. I swallow hungrily before letting him slide from my lips, then yelp as he pulls me up and sweeps me into the cradle of his arms.

“My turn,” he says, taking a moment to kick his legs free of his shorts before carrying me straight to my bed and tossing me onto it.

I laugh as I bounce against the mattress, but the sound dies when he grips my ankles and jerks me toward him. The skirt of my sundress bunches up around my waist with the motion, and Flynn lets out a feral growl as he yanks my underwear down my legs and tosses them aside.

My thoughts scatter the second his mouth lands on me, licking and sucking like his life depends upon it. His tongue finds my clit and teases it mercilessly. He hums his own pleasure as he sucks it between his lips, then releases it to move down and push his tongue inside me.

“Oh, God,” I groan, my fingers tangling in his hair and gripping it in tight fists.

Moving his lips back to my clit, Flynn’s moan vibrates against it as he thrusts two fingers deep inside me. My hips buck in response, driving them even deeper, and his fingertips brush against a spot I’m sure has never been touched before.

A shout rips its way up my throat as I come harder than I ever have while some heretofore unknown floodgate opens, releasing a rush of fluid that squirts past his fingers to the bed beneath me.

“Holy shit,” I gasp as soon as I regain the ability to speak.

“Holy shit is right,” Flynn grumbles, sitting back on his heels and pushing his wet fingers into his mouth to suck them clean with a deep, satisfied moan.

“That’s never happened to me before,” I admit, watching him with heavy-lidded eyes.

His fingers pop out of his mouth, and he looks at me with hungry, determined eyes. “Then it’s now my life’s mission to make it happen every…single…time.”

It’s a promise. One I know he’ll endeavor to keep while enjoying every second of it.

Damn.

I think I might love Flynn Nightingale.

Twenty-Two

Flynn

I have to force myself to keep my eyes off Max during the cart ride down to the marina. I’m sure she was intent on torturing me when she chose the bikini I hadn’t seen yet––two scraps of burgundy material that barely conceal all her private bits and make me want to throw a potato sack over her so no one else can see.

We’re in a cart with two bench seats that face each other with Max sitting between Peter and me while Lars and Barnard occupy the opposite seat. It’s good that Max is beside me, because if she was in front of me, there’s no way I’d be able to keep my eyes off her.

I pass the time by trying not to glare at Lars, who has exactly zero qualms about watching her like that wolf in the old cartoons whose eyes pop out of his head. And now he’s biting his lip? Jesus. I think this dude has been watching too many online thirst traps. Not everyone can pull that off without looking ridiculous, man.

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