Page 43 of Kissing Flynn

And when we come, we come together in glorious synchronicity, and we don’t even bother to get cleaned up before we snuggle together and fall into a deep, sated sleep.

Twenty-Five

Max

My eyes blink open slowly, and I push my arms out as a yawn stretches my lungs. I’m on my back, and a quick glance left shows me Flynn is still asleep in my bed, stretched out on his stomach with his face turned toward me.

Slowly and careful not to bounce the bed too much, I turn onto my side and brace my cheek on my bent elbow. Flynn looks so peaceful like this, his face slack with sleep and his long, dark eyelashes fanned against the tops of his cheeks.

I hold my breath as his brow wrinkles, then his lips curve upward slightly before he says, “I can feel you watching me sleep, Creeper.”

“What?” I groan like I’m in the process of waking up, myself. “What are you talking about?”

“Mm, hmm,” he hums just before his eyes pop open.

Lifting his head and shoulders, he leans in as if to kiss me, but I rear back as I slap a hand over my mouth. “Nope. Haven’t brushed my teeth, yet.”

He lunges with a playful growl, somehow rolling me onto my back, landing on top of me, and pinning my arms down above my head in a single move. He pecks at my sealed lips over and over, but I refuse to open my mouth. Lifting his head and shooting me a look of consternation, he reaches down and grips my knee. He lifts up, and his lower body settles more fully between my thighs. He rolls his hips, and his hard length drags over my clit to notch at my entrance.

My mouth pops open with a gasp at the shock of it, and he strikes, sealing his lips to mine and driving his tongue inside with a groan of pleasure. I forget my morning breath, completely as I kiss him back, and I buck my hips, driving the tip of his cock inside me.

We both freeze when a knock sounds at the door, and Flynn lifts his head as a valet calls out, “Excuse me, Miss Nolan. Mr. Roxberry would like everyone to meet him for breakfast in thirty minutes.”

“Thank you,” I call back. “I’ll let Mr. Nightingale know.”

Flynn’s eyes snap to mine, and I giggle as the valet calls back, “Very well.”

Flynn drops his forehead to my shoulder with a groan, then pulls his hips back to free the head of his cock before rolling off me to land on his back beside me. I turn my head to look at him, but he keeps his gaze on the ceiling as he sighs again.

“I guess we should shower and get dressed.”

“Yes, we should,” I say with a teasing lilt, and he turns his head to look at me.

“I meant alone,” he replies like he hates the idea. “If I don’t leave right now, we’ll be late.”

I try to imagine the two of us walking into the dining room to find the others waiting, knowing what we’ve been up to since we were both running behind. The thought makes me flush hot.

“You’re right,” I say, sitting up. “As much as I want you deep inside me right now, we’d better get ready.”

“God, Maxine,” he groans, throwing an arm over his eyes. “You can’t say stuff like that when I’m trying to be the responsible one.”

I laugh at his theatrics, then lean over and press a kiss to his bare stomach before hopping out of bed. With another loud groan, Flynn does the same, then walks naked toward his room before looking over his shoulder to shoot me a heated glance.

“To be continued,” he says, then turns back and saunters through the doorway.

“Hell, yeah, it is,” I murmur to myself with a smile, then move to the closet to grab some clean clothes before shutting myself in the bathroom.

When I finish showering and getting ready, I poke my head into Flynn’s room, but he’s already gone. I swallow the twinge of disappointment creeping up my throat and head downstairs, alone. When I get to the dining room, I pause in the doorway, spotting Flynn at the table by himself, a secret smile gracing his lips.

I smile back and move toward my usual seat. I stop again, however, when I notice the bright pink flower resting in the middle of my plate. I move forward, sliding into my chair before picking it up and holding it beneath my nose. Breathing deep, I exhale with a smile and meet Flynn’s gaze.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

“You’re welcome,” he mouths back, and the moment is broken when Lars strolls in with a loud, obnoxious yawn.

“These early-morning summons are bullshit,” he mumbles as he sides into the chair next to me.

I feel myself automatically scoot to my left, putting another inch or so between us. I look across the table to see Flynn’s jaw twitching, proof that he’s grinding his molars together as he stares death rays at Lars.

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