Page 77 of The Muse
This conversation is inevitable. But I’m not sure the best time to have it is mere minutes from her parents returning. Imagine her Dad eyeing me with distrustwhileI’m in the middle of explaining how I chose my current position over going to jail—again.
“I worked for a mobile detail shop, and Rupert scheduled his car to be detailed. That’s how we met. The rest is history.” I shrug.
“So he met you and knew you’d be a good muse for Callie?”
“Yeah. I guess I remind him of himself at my age. Back when his wife found him more …” I wave my hand in the air. “Appealing.”
“Charming?”
I adjust an imaginary tie and tip up my chin. “You think I’m charming?” I back up, leaning against the door.
“I was suggesting Callie found Rupert quite charming when they were younger.” She gives me a toothy grin before laughter bubbles up her throat. “Come here.” She crooks a finger at me.
I slide the coffee table away from the sofa an extra foot and kneel in front of her, grabbing her legs to pull her closer so that I’m wedged between them. Her hands slide around my neck. They’re warm and soft.
“I think you’re charming too,” she says, brushing her nose against mine.
I close my eyes and inhale her sweet floral scent. Everything about her is delicate and soft. Seductive. A dream, really. I swear to God it feels like I’m hallucinating, on the verge of waking up in the back seat of my car with nothing but my shitty belongings and a life of loneliness.
“I’m scared,” she whispers.
I kiss her neck. “Why?”
Her fingers in my hair send waves of chills along my skin. “Because you’re right. This feels big. Like I’m sitting on the edge of a plane in a harness, and the person strapped to the back of me with a parachute is telling me to just keep breathing because when we jump, the fall might steal my breath.”
“June,” I whisper before kissing her neck a little harder. An insatiable need flooding my veins. My fingers inch up the back of her shirt and unhook her bra.
“Flynn, my parents …” she says in a breathy voice.
I steal her lips, kissing her with an open mouth, our tongues meeting in the middle.
June moans as I cup her breasts beneath her loose bra. I pull away. Her pupils are dilated, breaths heavy past her parted lips.
I guide her back, lifting her shirt to kiss her hard nipples. Her back arches, eyes heavily blinking.
“My parents,” she murmurs with wavering conviction as I kiss my way down her body.
“I locked the door.” I grin, kissing her inner thigh, one hand squeezing her breast while my other hooks the crotch of her cotton shorts and panties, exposing her flesh.
A sharp breath fills her lungs when my mouth makes contact. She claims a handful of my hair and squirms, chest rising and falling in quickening breaths, pelvis rocking in a slow rhythm. I could watch her all day like this and never tire. Her face twists, mouth open, and her breaths are not just fast; they’re explosive. I squeeze her breast and pinch her nipple, giving it a little tug. She moans, screwing her eyes shut. Then she stops breathing for a second before exhaling slowly with a shudder.
I kiss her inner thigh again and fix her shorts and underwear. June opens her eyes and gives me a shy grin. She’s so stunningwith her cheeks pink, a few locks of hair teasing her long eyelashes.
“Flynn,” she whispers.
I adjust myself. “You’re welcome.”
She giggles, sitting up straight and hooking her bra. “We should—” There’s a knock on the door.
I quickly return the coffee table to its spot while June fixes her hair and adjusts her clothes on the way to the door. Just before she opens it, she eyes me over her shoulder. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. Her eyes flare as she bites her lips together.
With a silent chuckle, I shake my head.
Her smile escapes. “This is so big,” she mouths before turning to open the door for her parents.
“Done talking?” Henna asks, stepping into the apartment first and pressing her hands to June’s cheeks as if she’s trying to erase the redness.
“Yep.” June pushes her mom’s hands away, and they exchange a look—tiny scowls but knowing grins.
