Page 52 of Play the Last Track
“Not all the time,” he says gently, releasing my chin to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear.
“But not never? You can sometimes.”
“Most of the time, yes. I feel like I can figure out what you’re thinking.”
“It makes me mad that he could never do that. That he never tried. And then, I just get sad because I wasted four years with the asshole, just waiting for him to get it.” I sniff and close my eyes.
I feel Flynn’s fingers trace down my cheek, brushing along the lines of my facial features, waiting patiently for me to open my eyes. When I do, I’m met with swirling green-blue storms.
“Sorry,” I whisper, dropping his intense gaze. “You must think I’m insane.”
“No. No, I don’t. It’s a valid feeling.” He smiles a little. “To be honest, makes me pretty fucking happy knowing I can do something that douchebag never could.”
I laugh. It comes out watery and breathless, but my shoulders relax and I sag into the wall.
“You okay now?” he asks, tapping under my chin, prompting me to lift my eyes back to him. We both stare, our bodies going still. I swear, I can hear his heartbeat in the silence that’s fallen around us. It’s in sync with mine.
I lean forward, closing the gap and gently pressing my lips to his. I barely touch them, barely kiss him, before I pull back, meeting his eyes again. I’m trying to read him like he reads me, but I can’t figure out what he’s thinking. He said he wouldn’t kiss me again, but I’ve kissed him.
There’s a beat, and then another. And then, his hands sink into my hair, and he pulls me forward, his mouth covering mine.
Chapter Fourteen
Katie
Histongueslidesovermy bottom lip before his teeth sink down, biting me. His hands are tangled in my hair, and he tugs on the strands, keeping my head angled up and toward him. Our mouths move furiously against one another, fighting for dominance. He wins.
He sucks on my bottom lip, one of his hands dropping from my hand to press into my back. I arch into him, trying to get closer than I am. The satin fabric of my dress sticks to my curves, the slit down the leg falling open as my knee hitches up and against his waist. I feel his hand on my back slide over my waist, down the curve of my hip, and under my ass. His grip tightens, and he tugs, pulling me closer. I curl my ankle around his thigh.
I roll my hips against him, and I can feel the impressive bulge tightening under his suit pants. Fuck, but I missed his cock. Flynn is blessed. All the memories that I put away in a box and locked up from that night in Italy come crashing back in.
His lips move down my neck, using the grip he still has on my hair to angle my head so he has access. He sucks on the sensitive spot at the base of my neck, and I moan. The noise echoes into the empty corridor, and we both pause.
Flynn removes his lips from the spot, gently pressing kisses as he draws a path to my ear. He grazes his teeth across it, and his hot breath sends a shiver down my spine.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asks, sounding as breathless as I feel.
“I will kill you if you do.” My eyes close and my head rolls back, falling against the wall. Flynn’s hand softens the blow, still tangled in my hair. I feel his smile pressing against my skin as kisses along my jaw line, pressing one last peck against the corner of my mouth before he pulls back again.
He stares at me, his hand leaving my thigh and letting the leg that was curled around his body and hitched at his hip slowly drop to the ground. When he pulls the other hand from my hair, he takes a minute to smooth it out. I watch the green flecks swirl in his eyes as he studies my features. His hand cups my cheek, a thumb running over my bottom lip.
He steps back from me, glancing down the corridor. I follow his gaze, my head lolling against the wall. A few hundred people sit in the room just down the hall, drinking champagne in fancy dress and pushing food around their plates while they pretend not to judge each other. But not us.
No, we’re hidden from view unless someone were to walk down the corridor directly toward us. The prospect of getting caught, of someone seeing me being crowded against a wall by Flynn Reed, sends my head spinning and my stomach clenching.
Do I want to get caught?
Maybe?
He smiles at me again, dropping his lips to mine, kissing me. It’s not urgent, more like he’s taking his time. He’s exploring, allowing his tongue to feast on mine.
“You’re gorgeous,” he murmurs against my lips. “Stunning. I’ve been fighting an erection since you came down the stairs.”
I huff out a laugh, and he silences me with another kiss.
“You know, I never considered myself a jealous man.” He kisses down my throat again, his lips wet and hot on my skin. “I’m not sure if it’s because I never cared all that much for my partners because they were temporary, or whether it’s because they weren’t you. You, though. You make me a jealous man.”
He runs his tongue along my exposed collarbone, pressing his lips into the bare skin on my shoulder. “I make you jealous?”
