Page 13 of Praised
“Has anyone told you that being with you is about as easy on the stomach as a ride on a tilt-a-whirl?” I turned again to face him, dropping my head back so I could see his face.
Bad idea.
All of the lust he’d made me feel during the kiss was painted across his features, clear enough even under the rainbow-colored disco lights to take my breath away.
Again.
“It’s your fault,” he murmured, eyes half closed and mouth half open.
“As much as I’d like to believe that…” I trailed off as Flynn angled his face toward mine, whiskey and want all over his breath.
“Tell me I can kiss you again.”
He was practically already there, but I managed a nod and he sealed his lips against mine one more time.
What was it about this man that had me absolutely upside down over him?
Drake had dragged me out to Rapture to distract me from my cheating fuck boy of an ex and I’d tripped and fallen right into the mouth of another one. Sure, Flynn was better dressed and definitely had more money and more expensive taste in alcohol, but I knew the type.
I was actively trying to remind myself I knew his type when the hard rod of his erection flexed against my stomach and I immediately forgot absolutely everything in my brain besides my own name and the wordplease.
Flynn’s tongue invaded my mouth, his hands groping their way down my sides and pulling our bodies flush. He was such a big man and his fingers trembled against my waist, the tension coiled through his whole body like a snake, and for as much as I didn’t…I really wanted to know what he would be like when he let loose.
In the pocket of my shorts, my phone started to vibrate, a sharp and unexpected splash of cold water. I leaned into the kiss a little longer, ignoring the insistent buzz against my thigh, but eventually Flynn smiled against my mouth and pulled away for a breath.
“I don’t think I’ve ever activated a vibrate feature with just my mouth,” he said, kissing the corner of mine.
“He’s got jokes,” I muttered, because it was positively insane that he could crack a joke when I was less than a minute from crawling out of my clothes—and my skin—for how much I wanted him in bed.
“Is someone looking for you?” he asked, glancing down at the outline of my phone against my leg. “Do I need to be jealous?”
“It’s either my best friend or my ex.” I wiggled my phone free and found Drake’s name across the screen, a single text message followed by enough eggplant and peach emoji’s to start a fruit stand.
Drake: The best way to get over someone is to get under HIM.
Heat burned my cheeks and I shoved my phone back into my pocket, hopefully before Flynn could read the message.
“The ex then?” he asked.
“The friend.”
“Is this your emergency out?”
I rubbed at the bridge of my nose, giving him a quick shake of my head.
“Not at all.”
As if he could sense my distress, Flynn placed my drink into my hand.
“How much have you had to drink tonight?” he asked.
“This is my second. Why?”
The icy tequila was refreshing and did enough to calm my nerves that the need to crawl out of my skin had finally started to subside.
“Are you drunk?”
“Not even close.”
