Текст книги "In a Bad Way"

Автор книги: Karin Tabke

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 23 страниц)

Izzy smiled.  “Tell Jimmy thanks for the reminder.”

Grinning, Izzy opened the menu, holding it up so that Flynn couldn’t see her face.  She giggled when Flynn’s finger pushed the menu down, forcing her to look at him.  “What deal?”

“Just some bartering we did a few years ago.”

“Out with it, Pink.”

Setting the menu down on the table, she said, “You know far more about me than I do you.  Do you think that’s fair?”

“You Googled me, you know everything there is to know.”

“I want to know what’s going on inside there.” She tapped his forehead.  “And here.” She pressed her hand to his heart.  It beat strong beneath her palm.

He stopped himself when his hand reached for hers.

Giving him no quarter, Izzy kept it there.  “Why have you closed yourself off to love?”

“You don’t mince words, do you?”

“You know me well enough by now to know that I don’t.  Now answer me.”

“I don’t have an answer.”

“What are you afraid of, Flynn?  Of loving and not being loved in return?”

“My life isn’t conducive to a relationship.”

Sitting back, she considered his answer.  It was lame. “Why not?”

“I move around.  I could be transferred halfway around the world at a moment’s notice.”

“So?”

“So it wouldn’t be fair to leave someone.”

“Did it ever occur to you that the person you would be leaving behind would love you enough to go with you?  To follow you to the moon if that’s where you were assigned?”

“I wouldn’t do that to someone.”

“That’s not your call.”

“Yeah. It kind of is.”

She frowned. She supposed it was, in a way. If he guarded his heart fiercely enough, he’d drive anyone away. It had worked easily enough with her.  Almost.

Dolly approached, cracking her gum and carrying Izzy’s shot. “You decide whatcha wanted?” she asked as she set the tequila down in front of Izzy.

“How about one of Jimmy’s famous meat samplers?” Izzy said.  Men loved meat, and so did she.

“Sides?”

“All of them.”

“For reals?”

“For reals.”

“Okay, girlfriend, you got it.”

As Dolly sashayed away, Izzy raised her glass to Flynn.  “Slainte.”

His brows furrowed.

“Stop being such a bore, Flynn,” she said after she drank it.  “Loosen up.  Have some fun.  You’re always so serious.”

“I want you to slow down.”

She stood up and bent down, pressing her face close to his, and said,  “I’m just about to rev it up, Special Agent.” Then gave him a quick peck on the lips. She laughed at his stunned look. “Priceless, Special Agent, priceless.”

With that she headed for the bathroom just as the DJ announced, “It’s open mic tonight, lads and lasses. Check out the updated playlist, Jimmy the tightwad finally sprang for some new tunes!”

Izzy smiled. She loved karaoke even though she couldn’t carry a tune to save her life.  Maybe Flynn could sing.  She’d give her right arm to see that happen.

Chapter Twenty-eight

Sitting back in his chair, Flynn kept a sharp eye on the hallway Pink had just walked down.  The pub was loud and crowded, but Berkeley was a college town and the place was full of college students.  His lips quirked.  Pink was just full of surprises.

“We’re going to do things a little different tonight,” the DJ announced over the throng.  “I’ll announce the track, first warm body to the mic gets to perform.”

From the spattering of applause, the crowd didn’t seem interested.

“Let’s give it up for some ‘Uptown Funk’!” the DJ announced holding out the mic toward the tables.

Flynn shook his head and sipped his water.  No takers.  He perked up when Pink emerged from the hallway.  As she passed the stage, the DJ reached out and grabbed her.  “We have our first singer!”

Pink laughed, shaking her head. Not taking no for an answer, the DJ pressed the mic into her hand and drew her up to the stage.  Flynn watched with keen interest. If she refused again, and the guy insisted, he’d intercede, but if she was cool with it, so was he.

The music started.  Looking at Flynn, Pink smiled and shrugged like, here-goes-nothing. Grinning, Flynn gave her the thumbs-up.

Throwing her head back, she laughed and started to tap her foot to the beat.  When her hips began to swing back and forth to the doo-wop sound and she ran her fingers through her hair, Flynn’s blood stirred.

When she started to sing, he sat up straight.  Her clear breathless voice struck straight to his groin. It wasn’t perfect, a little off key, but a hell of a lot better than he could sing. It was her smile and the way she danced, throwing her chin out, shaking her head, and turning with the tempo that hit every one of his buttons. She was having fun with it. The crowd started to clap, cheering encouragement.

Some random guy jumped up on stage and began to dance with her.  If Flynn wasn’t the jealous type, he’d enjoy the way they moved in sync as if they’d practiced the moves.  But he’d discovered he was the jealous type.  When Pink spun around and sang the words, “I’m too hot,” and touched the tip of her index finger to her ass, then pulled it away like she was burned and shook it at her singing partner, the guy grabbed her hand and blew on her fingertip. She looked right at Flynn when he did.

The quick beat didn’t give room for mistakes and damn if she didn’t look like she was a natural.  He found himself thoroughly enjoying her moves.  Especially when she did a few James Brown spins. Wasn’t like she hadn’t picked up a few moves watching the dancers at Surf’s Up.  He didn’t let that thought irk him.  He had been working hard to get past the fact that dozens of men had seen her half naked and dozens more still might.

As the song ended, the crowd erupted.  Laughing, Pink made her bows, handed the mic to the DJ, then curtseyed to her partner. He was in the same age range as Pink, tall, clean-cut, good-looking kid. The adoring lap dog type. The polar opposite of Flynn’s hard dog.  Flynn didn’t like the way the little lap dog casually slung his arm around Pink’s shoulder. The gesture was familiar.  Something Flynn wasn’t allowed to do.

Grabbing his hand, Pink raised it up over their heads and called to the crowd, “Give it up for my man, Jamie O’Grady!”

“Pinky and the J man!” the DJ said, “Let’s get it on with some ‘Blurred Lines’!”

Pink laughed, shaking her head and moving toward their table.

“Hey, hey, you know you want it!” Jamie said, slipping his arm around her waist and guiding her back onto the stage.

Retrieving the mic, she looked over her shoulder to the crowd and said, “Do you want it?”

The pub erupted.  Flynn couldn’t help whistling encouragement with the rest of her adoring fans.  She was something else.  She owned every person in the place.

Pink turned the prompter toward the crowd and held out the mic toward them. “Only if you all sing with me!”

The crowd roared and when Pink turned around and shook that sweet ass of hers to the beat, Flynn squirmed in his chair.  Shaking his head, he couldn’t help but whoop-whoop along with the crowd.  She was beautiful, and lush, and knew how to work it.  As Jamie belted out the provocative lyrics, Pink strutted around him like a peacock, shaking her finger at him each time he reached out to touch her.  Playing the suffering male, Jamie rolled his eyes and grinned, following her helplessly around the stage.

The lyrics were apropos.  Pink was a good girl.  But when Flynn had unleashed the animal in her, she had shocked them both.  Domesticated she would never be.  She was a wild spirit who needed to stay free.  The man who tried to cage her would lose her.

Flynn swallowed hard.  In his way, he had attempted just that.  Put her into a nice neat little package, selfishly releasing her when it suited him.  He wasn’t lying to her when he told her she deserved a better man than he.  A better man wouldn’t even think about holding her back.  He’d let her fly, stoking her wild fire, confident in her love for him.

Flynn wasn’t that man.  He refused to suffer the way his mother and sister had.  The way his sister-in-law continued to.  He’d seen it happen so many times, he didn’t give infidelity a second thought. It was just what people did.

Flynn loved his life.  He loved his job and he loved that he had no ties or accountability to anyone but himself.  There was no one to tell him what he could and could not do.  How to behave or what to wear. No one to hurt him. No one for him to hurt. He was free to be himself.

His gaze narrowed on the innocent temptress who captivated the entire place with her sexy moves, her sweet breathless voice, and the simple joy of what she was doing.  Singing and dancing, not one inhibition keeping her from just being who she was.  He might love his freedom, but he longed for the free spirit singing and dancing before him.  He was a better man when he was with her.  Because of her.

Pink turned, shook that ass he loved at him, and over her shoulder blew him a kiss as she sang the chorus, “You know you want it.”

Flynn grinned, nodding, and pointed to himself as he mouthed the words, “You know you want this.”

With each turn and twist, each shake of her bottom, Flynn envisioned himself up there with her, laughing and carefree, not a goddamn care in the world. His world was fraught with life-and-death scenarios.  There wasn’t a place or a time where he could let his guard down. Not when he knew the danger that lurked around every corner.

The song ended, and for the second time, Pink bowed to the cheers of the crowd.  Jamie took her hand and kissed it then exited the stage.  This time when she tossed the mic to the DJ, Pink ran from the small stage across the dance floor to their table, where she plopped breathless into the chair beside him.

Beaming happily at him, she grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “Note the day and time! Special Agent Ryker is smiling!” He scowled and she pouted.  “Aw, I knew it was too good to be true.”

Controlling the urge to pull her onto his lap and lay a big wet kiss on those pink bubble gum lips, claiming her in front of her adoring crowd, Flynn switched gears. He’d been so captivated by her performance, he hadn’t noticed the table was covered with food.  Brisket, corned beef, pulled pork, hot links, fries, onion rings, slaw, and fried pickles.  “Let’s eat,” he said.

They both dug in.  Flynn nodded in approval when Pink didn’t pick at the food like most women. She ate like she did everything else, with gusto.

“So tell me what you bartered for all those years ago?”  Flynn asked.

She popped a fry into her mouth and Flynn watched as she slowly chewed it. “My body in exchange for food and tequila.”

Flynn choked on the piece of corned beef he’d just swallowed.  “Liar,” he croaked. He took a sip of his water.  “Truth, Pink.”

“Jimmy’s son Jamie was struggling with his math. Since I was a starving student, I tutored him.”

“The same Jamie who just mauled you onstage?”

Laughing, she dunked an onion ring into ranch dressing.  “The same.”

“So what kind of math did a molester such as he struggle with?”

“Statistics.”

Wow. “What did you major in?”

“I double-majored. Art and legal studies.  I start law school in the fall.”

You could have knocked Flynn over with a feather.

“Where did you go after your mother died?” he asked.

“The foster system.  I booked the day I turned eighteen.”

“You put yourself through college?”

“Yup.”

“I’m impressed.”  Beyond impressed.  She’d been dealt a shitty hand, and instead of allowing it to drag her down, she’d kicked its ass. Never once had she complained to him about her life’s hardships.  She had just rolled up her sleeves and gotten to work.  He was not worthy.

“You should be, I’m not just a ding-dong cocktail server at a strip bar.”

He reached for her hand, then retracted his, remembering her “no touch” condition.  “I never thought you were a ding-dong.”  He chuckled.  “But I did meet you at a strip club.”

“Indeed you did, and I’m damn good at what I do.”

“You’ll get no argument from me on that.” Flynn set his fork down and asked the burning question. “Do you like it?”

She smiled, her dimple popping.  “Maybe a little.”

“What parts?”

“Knowing I have something men want but can’t have. Then there’s the part of me that gives my father the single finger salute each time I put that bikini on. I make no apologies for those feelings.”

“You shouldn’t.” His comment surprised him, but he meant it. That was part of who she was.  To tamp it down would be akin to trimming a bird’s wings.

“Tell me about your mom and dad,” she said.

For a long moment Flynn thought about whether he would answer her and if he chose to, how.  Then he decided that if he were going to, he might as well tell her the truth.  “My mother died of a broken heart.  My father, who is still alive, is living as if she never existed.”

“What did he do?”

Flynn laughed, the sound caustic.  “He liked his women a little on the wild side.  Strippers, to be exact.  He brought them home, forced my brother, sister, and I to sit at the same table with them while my mother cried upstairs.”

“Oh, Flynn, I—that’s awful.”  Her head snapped back.  “You must really despise me.”

Was she crazy? “Why would you say that?”

“Because we met in a strip club and I stripped?”

Flynn reached for her hand and this time he didn’t stop himself from touching her.  “You’re not like those women.  Those women were predators.  They came on to Mal and me to get more out of my father.” Running his fingertips along her knuckles, he continued, “You’re not self-serving, selfish, or conniving.”  He brought her hand to his lips.  “You see the bad in people like me and yet,” he pressed his lips to her skin, “you still believe we have good in us.”

“You’re not a bad guy, Flynn,” she breathed.

“I want to do bad things to you, Isa.”

His groin tightened when her nostrils flared and her fingers tightened around his.

She swallowed hard and licked her lips.  Flynn groaned.  “If you let me do all the things to you that I wanted to do, I’d never let you go, and you’d hate me for that.”

Pink nodded, her eyes full and dark.  Her pulse beat wildly in her neck.  The urge to press his lips to it was almost overwhelming.  “I’m going to pay the bill, Pink. I want to go home.”

“And then what?” she asked, a raspy edge to her breathless voice.  His dick strained against his jeans.

“The bad guy wants to take you to his bed and strip you down.”

“And the good guy?”

Flynn grinned. “He wants to take you to his bed and strip you down, just more politely.”

Pink’s lips formed a silent “Oh.”

Flynn stood, dug for his wallet, pulled out several bills, and tossed them onto the table.  He grabbed her hand, and said, “Don’t let either one of them near you.”

Chapter Twenty-nine

Izzy didn’t.  Let Flynn’s angel or devil near her.  Saying good night to him and walking down the hall from where he stood at his bedroom door watching her had been ridiculously hard.  That it was so hard confused her.  Her yo-yoing feelings, should she or shouldn’t she, confused her. She accepted how she felt about Flynn, God help her; she wished the attraction would lesson, but no, every minute she spent with him made her want to spend more minutes with him.  Intimate minutes.  She craved his hands on her. She wanted him to smile for her and her only, and tell her he would lasso the moon and give her the stars if she but asked for them.  She was, she realized, falling head over heels in love with a man who refused to feel.

She was hopeless, and yet, hopeful. Afraid.  If she threw herself at him, he would take what she was offering, just as her father had taken from her mother. Flynn never gave her what she wanted in return.  Not even a crumb.  Izzy couldn’t, wouldn’t, live like that; in a constant state of yearning for a man who didn’t care enough to give part of himself to her.

Flinging the sheet from her restless body, Izzy listened to the wind build outside.  A March storm was rolling in.  The winds had begun to pick up as they rode home from Jimmy’s.  A branch scratched along the glass of the French door.  Izzy started.  The dark shadow of it looked like a large arm reaching over the railing.  The scratching grew louder, rain pelted the glass.  Mesmerized by the gyrations of the tree branches as they were tossed around by the wind, Izzy’s imagination ran wild.  What if the guy in the van had followed her here?  Did Flynn have an alarm system?  Yes, he did; there was a large control pad just inside the garage door and one at the top of the wide stairway.  Had he armed it?  Of course he would have.  Flynn was diligent that way. He probably slept with a loaded gun.

A loud thump against the French door shook it, the handle moving up and down as if someone was on the other side, trying to force it open.  Izzy leapt from the bed and ran down the hall to Flynn’s room.

“Flynn,” she cried as he came walking out of what she assumed was his bathroom.  “I think there’s someone on my patio!”

Wordlessly, he grabbed his gun and phone from the nightstand and ushered her into the bathroom.  Before handing her the phone he pulled a number up on it.  Handing her the phone, he said, “Lock the door.  If I’m not back in two minutes, call this number.” He turned without waiting for a reply and headed out into the hall.

Izzy shut the door and locked it, then counted down the seconds.

With five seconds to spare, Flynn called to her. “It’s me, Isa, open the door.”

Relieved, she unlocked the door and stood shaking, unable to move.  She wasn’t cut out for this stuff.  “What was it?”

“Branch broke from the big eucalyptus out back and landed on the door, jamming the handle from the outside.”  He caught her chin in his hand and notched it up to look at her.  “If anything you’re safer now than ever.  No one is getting into your room via the balcony.”

Still shaky, she nodded, not trusting her voice.  She wanted to cry.  Like a little girl.  If she had a blankie and a stuffed toy, she’d want them, too.

“Do you want some water or something?” he asked.

Shaking her head no, she dropped her gaze.  “No thank you. I’m just going to go back to my room.  Sorry for disturbing you.”

As she moved past him, he reached out and gently took her arm, pulling her back toward him.  “You didn’t disturb me.”

“Okay.”  She didn’t know what to say.

“Come on, I’ll walk you back to your room.”

When he moved past her, Izzy stood rooted to the floor.  Suddenly, she didn’t want to go back to her room.

Flynn set his gun down on the nightstand and continued toward the door. He stopped at his doorway and turned around to face her when he realized she wasn’t following him.  “What’s wrong?”

“I’m afraid,” she blurted.

His features tightened, but he nodded and approached her. “How about if you sleep in here tonight?” he quietly asked her.

“In your bed?”

“Yes.”

“Where will you sleep?”

“I’d like to sleep in my bed, too.”

“But—”

“Look, Isa, I’m not an animal.  I can keep my hands to myself if you promise to keep yours to yourself.”  His eyes twinkled playfully.  Problem was she didn’t like either one of those scenarios.

“Okay.”

He walked her to the right side of his king-sized bed and pulled the covers down for her.  She was wearing a pair of pink thong panties and a white midriff T-shirt.  Flynn looked up at the ceiling when she pulled her legs up and in, then he covered her up to her chin.

Her predicament wasn’t much better.  He was bare-chested, wearing a pair of light gray drawstring pajama bottoms.  The thick outline of his penis clearly visible.  He turned the lamp off and slid into the bed. A soft glow from the outside lights illuminated the shadows. The only sound other than their breathing was the storm raging outside.  It didn’t come close to the one raging in her lower extremities.  If there were no consequences, Izzy would slide over and take a ride on Flynn’s wild side.

As she lay staring at the ceiling, Izzy’s heart thudded wildly against her chest.  Blood pumped through her veins.  Her nipples tightened. “If we had sex tonight what would happen tomorrow?” she asked.

“We’d probably want to do it again.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Long minutes passed.  Rain hit the windows like bullets.  The wind howled furiously. The tempest inside of her whipped itself into a frenzy.  Squeezing her eyes shut, Izzy fought the battle between her body, heart, and brain.  She was not her mother, she told herself.  Sex with her had strings.  Without them, she would end up in an emotional free fall.

“So we’re not having sex?” Flynn asked.

Izzy punched him.

“So that’s a no?”

Angry, she rolled over facing him.  “Why do you bait me like that?”

“Me bait you? I was minding my own business when you asked me what would happen if we had sex tonight.”

“Okay, you’ve got me there.”

He smiled, his white teeth glowing in the dimness of the room. “It’s not where I’d like to have you.”

Izzy stepped over her self-imposed line.  Knowingly. Willingly.  In a court of law she could not claim coercion. “Tell me where you’d like to have me?”

He scooted toward her.  Barely a foot separated them now.  “Are you sure?”

Swallowing hard, she nodded.

“On one condition,” Flynn said.

“What’s that?”

“You take off your panties and shirt.”

“Okay,” she whispered.  The sharp intake of his breath when she agreed, stirred her blood.  Arching, Izzy pulled the shirt over her head.  Her nipples were already stiffly aroused.  Turning to face him, she caught her breath at the hunger in his blazing eyes.

“You’re fucking gorgeous.”

Warmth spread through her at his praise. When she lifted her bottom to slide her panties off, she watched his jaw tighten.  Laughing, she sling-shotted them across the room.

Flynn’s gaze slowly trailed up from her smooth mound to her belly, over her breasts to her lips, then her eyes.  “You’re not getting those back.”

“I have more.”

Moving toward her, he lowered his head to her belly, not touching her but close enough that she felt his body heat.  As he moved lower, Izzy parted her legs just enough to give him a peek.  She was a wanton.  So what?

“You smell good enough to eat, Isa,” he breathed, his hot breath teasing her mound.

She squirmed, the movement catching the edge of his chin.  Izzy groaned at the contact.  Flynn moved back and on his side, with his hand holding up his head, and said, “If I could touch you, Isa, first I’d slide my fingers through your hair.  It’s so soft.  I love the feel of it against my skin.”

Izzy slowly ran her fingers through her hair like he described.  “Like this?”

“Yes.  Then I’d trail my fingertips across your brows, then your eyelids, over your nose to those lush pink lips I could kiss all night long.”

She trailed her fingertip along her brows, then her eyelids to her nose and down along her parted lips.  “Like that?”

“Just like that.”

“Then what would you do?”

“Lower my lips to yours, slide my tongue into you, taste you.”

Sliding her tongue along her bottom lip, then her top lip, parting her lips, begging for his.  “Like that?” she breathed.

“Yes, just like that.”

“I like it when you kiss me,” she admitted.

“I like kissing you, too.”

Izzy’s eyes closed as she imagined Flynn moving over her and kissing her deeply.

“As I was kissing you, my hands would gently stroke your breasts, tugging at your nipples, making them hard. Making you arch and beg me to suck them.”

Izzy’s hands slid up to her breasts, cupping their heavy firmness.  Her back lifted off the mattress when she pinched her nipples, eliciting a low moan from her and from Flynn.  “Like this?”

“Yes, baby, just like that, I’d squeeze and lick and suck those beautiful tits of yours until you cried for me to stop.”

“I’d never want you to stop,” she rasped.

“My mouth is sliding down to the dip in your belly, your pussy is dying for me to give it some attention. “

Imagining him doing just that, Izzy’s hips rose as her hands slid down her belly.

“When my lips lock on your clit, you can’t stand the pleasure of it.  You cry out, begging me to suck you harder.”

Izzy made a small animal sound of pleasure at his words.  Her fingers swept to her clitoris.  In a slow swirl she touched it, biting her lip as shards of delight riveted through her.

“Flynn,” she breathed, “like this?”

“Yes, baby, just like that.”  His breath brushed along her belly and the top of her hand.  “Spread your thighs, I want to look at you.”

Swallowing, Izzy parted her thighs, and as she did, her fingers slid down her slick cleft.

“You are so wet and pink. I want to kiss you there. Lick you, suck you, slide my fingers deep into you.”

Arching again, Izzy slid a finger into herself. Her body clenched around her. “I wish it was you,” she gasped, slowly moving it in and out as her other hand rubbed her swollen clitoris. There was something insanely erotic and intimate, knowing as she gave herself pleasure she was giving him pleasure, too.  In many ways, baring herself this way was more intimate than intercourse.  If only he would do the same…

Opening her eyes, she caught Flynn’s fiery gaze.  By his movement, she knew he was stroking himself.  Unable not to look, her gaze dropped. His big hand was wrapped around his thick erection.  The veins of his hand were as pronounced as the thick veins of his penis.  Heat sluiced through her veins like quicksilver.  “That’s so hot.”

“You make me this way, baby.  I can’t look at you without getting hard.”

Biting her bottom lip, Izzy pushed back into her pillow and stroked herself faster.  Her eyes locked with Flynn’s. A thin sheen of perspiration glistened on his forehead as his hand moved faster.  Izzy’s kept pace with his. The air became heavy, her breathing labored as frissons of desire built within her.

“Scream my name when you come, Isa,” he commanded softly.

“I’m coming,” she gasped and closed her eyes.

“Open your eyes, baby.  I want to see you come.”

Izzy opened her eyes. Flynn bit his lip, sucking in a deep breath.  “Fuck, I’m there.”  His body tightened and Izzy couldn’t help it, she looked down and watched his big beautiful cock erupt in his hand.  The muscles in his arms and neck corded as semen poured from him.  “Isa,” he said roughly. “Damn you.”

His words pushed her over the brink.  Pushing back into the mattress, her body exploded from the inside out. “Flynn!” she screamed as the tension shot through her. Oh, God that felt so good. Wildly her body gyrated as she came in an outrageous, wanton, uninhibited flourish.

Fighting for breath, her body twitched as residual shock waves shimmered through her.  The storm that raged outside didn’t compare to the one that raged in her heart. Her hand twitched at her side. When Flynn’s big warm one grasped it, she caught herself from rolling over to him.

“I can’t believe I just did that,” she said, breathless, gulping for air.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yes.” Turning to him she asked,  “Are you?”

He smiled and said, “I’ll let you know in a minute.”

He reached with his right hand to the box of tissues on the nightstand and cleaned himself up.  Then he pulled her into his arms.  When she resisted, he said, “I think we’ve gone a little past your conditions, Pink.”

Lifting up to look at him, she flashed him a sheepish grin.  “That’s not what I’m worried about.”  His dark brows rose in question. She elaborated. “I like it when you touch me.  Too much.”

His full lips twitched.  “I like touching you more than I ever thought I’d like touching a woman.  So we’re even.”  He pulled her against him.

This time she snuggled against his warmth.  Running her fingertips through the dark hair of his chest she said, “This doesn’t mean we can have sex.”

“Explain what just happened?”

“I don’t know, but it wasn’t sex per se.”

“I came, you came, that’s sex.”  He rolled over onto her, his warm naked body making all kinds of suggestions to her very much aware body.  “Have you ever done that with a guy?”

“Masturbate with him?”

“Yeah.”

“No!”  Her eyes narrowed.  “Have you?”

He grinned.  “No, I’ve never masturbated with a guy.”

“With a woman!”

“No.”

Izzy smiled.  “Correct answer.”  Then she asked, “How many women have you had sex with in this bed?”

His dark brows jammed together.  “Really?”

“Yes, really.”

Exhaling, Flynn rolled over onto his back.  She wasn’t letting him off the hook; she wanted to know.

“Until tonight, zero.”

“What?  I thought you were Special Agent Stud.”

“I don’t bring women to my house.”

“Afraid they won’t leave?”

“Yes.”

“Why are things different with me?”

“You’re not here under romantic conditions.”

Ouch. “I see; I’m just something to pass the time with.”

Scowling, Flynn shook his head. “Don’t put words in my mouth.  You’re here because I want you here.”

“So you can keep an eye on me.”

“It’s more than that, but yes.”

“And some mutual masturbation on the side is okay?”

He rolled back toward her.  “I didn’t start this, Isa.  You opened the door; I walked through, now you want to condemn me for it?  Why ruin this?”

Yes, damn it, she wanted to condemn him for it because it had meant something to her and she wanted it to mean something to him, too.

“I don’t want to ruin it, I guess I just want to understand it.”

“What’s to understand?  We’re two healthy human beings who happen to have a crazy attraction to each other.  When two people have a mutual attraction they act on it.”  He ruffled her hair and kissed her nose. “I get it that sex is different for women than men, but why are you so opposed to us being intimate when it’s obvious it’s what we both want?”

Izzy held her breath, deciding on how much of the truth she should tell him.  All of it.

“Cancer killed my mother, but she had died of a broken heart years before.  I didn’t know it until years after we were kicked out that up until the night before we left, my father still went to my mom.  She gave him every part of her, but all he wanted was her body.  Until she died, she hoped for what he would never give her.”

“I’m sorry,” Flynn said.

“I am, too. My mom was a good woman.  Hardworking.  Orphaned at five, she lived in the streets of Mexico City until she managed to find a way north.  At seventeen, she came to this country illegally, looking for a better life.  My father took advantage of that.”

Pressing his lips to the wild pulse in her neck, Flynn kissed her.  “I’m not your father, Isa.” His big body moved over hers. “And you’re not your mother.”