He’d be naked, strong and lithe, his hands sure, his body unflagging, as he took her to heights she’d never experienced.
Her palms tingled, her fingers tightening as if needing to reach out and touch.
It took far too long to dispel the erotic images he’d stirred.
‘Surely I’m the best judge of that.’ Her voice sounded throaty and full, disturbingly needy. ‘You shouldn’t have just walked out.’ Too late for pride, but her feelings for Flynn made pride seem insignificant. It was honesty she craved.
‘I know.’
He brushed her jaw in the lightest of caresses and she swallowed hard. Only indignation kept her from swaying into his touch.
‘It was appalling behaviour. My only excuse...’ his voice dropped to a deliciously deep whisper ‘...is that if I hadn’t walked out there’d have been no time for scruples. I’d have had you fast and hard and very, very loud up against the wall, pounding into you with all the finesse of a horny teenager. I wouldn’t have been satisfied until I had your legs around my waist and you were screaming my name in ecstasy.’
Ava felt her eyes widen, her heart stuttering at the graphic image. She sucked in a searing breath, watching him watch her absorb his words.
‘What would have been wrong with that?’ She didn’t bother to hide her pique.
His lips curved in that smile she knew so well. His huff of laughter dispelled the shadows in his eyes.
He stepped in till she was encompassed by him, barricaded from any passing pedestrians.
‘Nothing.’
Flynn’s smile held that hint of wildness she’d always associated with him. Now, turned on her, it produced a frisson of doubt, the unease of a deer spying a hunter.
‘It would have been glorious.’
His gaze dipped to her breasts, peaking against her colourful cotton shirt. Ava wanted to wrap her arms around her breasts, hide their burgeoning response. She wanted even more to revel in his hot hunger.
Suddenly his eyes meshed with hers. ‘Except you would have regretted it later. When it came time to disentangle our bodies and straighten our clothes you would have been uncomfortable—especially knowing everyone on the floor had heard you come apart in my arms.’
He was right. She would have been uncomfortable. But she couldn’t imagine for an instant regretting making love with Flynn. Not when she regretted so much not making love with him.
Flynn’s hand settled at her waist, making her soften despite herself.
‘I want our first time to be perfect. I want to pamper you and make you feel special. Not like some cheap one-night stand after a hot and heavy date.’
Hot and heavy would do it for her right now, but there was magic in the picture he painted. He wanted to make her feel special. No one had ever wanted that.
Ava was entranced by the idea as much as by the determination stamped on his dark features.
He wanted her. Her doubts had been ridiculous. She saw desire branded on his face. Excitement stirred like a whispering summer breeze, riffling through her.
‘Besides...’ He leaned in, his breath caressing her ear, sending shivers of delight through her primed body. ‘I want your first time to be memorable in the very best way.’
It took a moment to absorb his words. Ava jerked her head back, shock stiffening her body. He couldn’t know. No one but she knew that she’d never had sex. It wasn’t branded on her forehead!
‘What do you mean, my first time?’ she hissed. Mortification hovered at the thought that she’d given away her inexperience—she who’d learned to project sophistication so early.
Flynn regarded her steadily. ‘Virginity is nothing to be ashamed of.’
‘I’m not ashamed,’ she bit out, too late realising she’d confirmed his suspicions.
He nodded. ‘Good.’ He trailed his knuckles down her hot cheek, his stare once more proprietorial. That look did strange things to her internal organs. It felt as if they were melting. ‘I find the idea utterly entrancing.’
His palm settled at the base of her throat, his fingers caressing skin turned suddenly hyper-sensitive.
‘You have a thing about virgins?’ The words shot out, terse and abrasive. Did his look smack of the sick gloating she’d seen years ago, that last fateful night at Frayne Hall? Then she’d been slavered over like some tasty morsel. A thing, not a person.
‘Ava? What is it?’ Flynn’s voice was sharp.
The air clogged in her throat, depriving her of breath.
‘Talk to me.’ It was an order, and it worked, jerking her out of sordid memory and into the present—the quiet street, the big, charismatic man with concern written on his wrinkled brow.
‘It’s nothing.’
It was a lie, but the alternative—spilling that ancient secret—was untenable. It made her feel tainted.
Ava dragged in air to fill her lungs. ‘I don’t like the idea it’s my virginity you’re interested in, not me.’
‘That’s what’s bothering you?’
His face cleared. He captured her hand, lifting it. His tongue laved the centre of her palm, right up to her wrist, and she shivered as her body caught alight.
‘Believe me, virgins per se don’t tempt me. It’s you I want, Ava. And not just in bed.’
Sincerity blazed in his face, and she felt her doubts crumble.
‘What do you want, Flynn?’
Last night she’d felt on the brink of something—not just sex, but understanding this man who’d transformed her life from ordinary to heady and exciting. If she’d been prone to fantasy she’d have likened him to Prince Charming, sweeping all before him. But Prince Charming with an earthy edge and, despite his suave cloak of wealth, a hint of the maverick about him still. And, just occasionally, a hint of ruthlessness that gave her pause.
Flynn straightened, glancing over his shoulder, reminding her they were crammed against a wall in a nearly deserted street.
‘Come with me.’ He clasped her hand in his and took a half-step back. ‘I have something organised that I think you’ll like. We can discuss this then.’
Ava stood her ground. She needed answers. With Flynn she teetered between absolute certainty that they were two halves of a whole, made for each other, and the rare but unnerving idea that she’d missed something vital. That their relationship wasn’t the wildly romantic affair it seemed.
She had to know.
‘Tell me now. I need to understand.’
Night-dark eyes scanned her face, coming to rest on her mouth. Was her bottom lip sticking out? Her father had accused her of ugly pouting if she ever showed a hint of rebellion.
But Flynn didn’t look at her as if she were ugly. The heat in his stare sent tingles through her. The air between them fizzed with energy.
‘Please, Flynn.’
Did he hear her yearning?
He smiled ruefully, shaking his head. ‘I had it all planned. It wasn’t going to be like this.’
‘What wasn’t going to be like this?’
There it was again—that look in his eyes that told her Flynn wasn’t like the city suits her father had mixed with. Despite his designer gold watch, expensive clothes and high-powered business meetings there was something elemental about Flynn.
To her amazement, he dropped to his knees on the cobblestones. To one knee,