Covered In Lace

chapter SIX

Flynn arrived at the Fleet Center just after four o'clock as planned. Hundreds of fans already lined the sidewalk in front of the main entrance to the building. He slung a backpack over one shoulder and worked his way through the gathered people, then took the corner to walk alongside the building. He followed Lacy's instructions and entered through the back doors. Two security guards stopped him before the door had even closed behind him. One man took Flynn's backpack and unzipped it, doing a quick visual search of the contents. The second officer, asked Flynn for his identification.

“I'm on the guest list for Lacey Sheridan,” Flynn said, handing the man his license.

“Well, my friend, I'm looking at the guest list and I don't see your name,” the guard said, then he turned and shouted at the other guard. “Miller, get Lacey's manager on the phone and verify this guy.”

Lacey was pacing a crease into the Oriental rug on the floor of her dressing room. She expected Flynn to arrive at any minute and nerves were eating at her. She walked to the wall mirror and adjusted the short, floral pattern silk dress she was wearing, wondering if the deep crimson color made her face appear washed-out. She twisted her hair up in a knot, only to untie it and let it fall around her shoulders.

“What the hell are you so nervous about?” Paul asked her. He was sitting atop a table pushed against the wall watching her. “You might think this was the first show of your career!”

Lacey tugged on the cap sleeves. “I'm not nervous about the show, you idiot!”

Paul was about to ask another question when his phone rang.

“We've got a guy here at the back door claiming to be a guest of Lacey's,” the guard said to Paul. “Says his name is Flynn.”

“Is that a first or a last name?” Paul asked.

Lacey froze and looked at Paul. “Is he here?” she asked.

Paul set his phone in his lap. “Are you expecting a guy named Flynn?”

She was out the dressing room door and racing down the hall before Paul could catch up with her.

“You can't go down there by yourself,” Paul said.

“Watch me,” she said.

“Who the hell is this guy?” Paul asked.

Lacey ignored Paul's question and took the last corner toward the back entrance. And then she saw him; tall, formidable, and oh so very male. Lacey stopped in the hall and stared at him. Her hand went to her mouth.

His tight black jeans accentuated long legs, narrow hips, and an ass she swore one could bounce a dime off. Lacey's eyes moved up the muscled length of his back. A crisp, white dress shirt outlined a set of impressively broad shoulders and soft waves of his walnut-colored hair curled over the collar.

She was almost beside him when he turned. She watched his eyes flare with interest and slowly scan the length of her. His lips tipped into a sensual half-smile.

“Jesus,” she sighed. “You look delicious.”

He dropped his bag to the floor and pulled her against him. She inhaled his scent; felt his arms tighten around her, and heard a soft moan escape his throat.

“I look delicious?” he asked. “Have you taken a look at yourself?”

Lacey eased her hands around the column of his neck and tugged. His mouth fused with hers; their tongues teased, then Flynn took control of the kiss and plunged deeper. Lacey felt his cock jerk to life in his jeans and press into her stomach, then he pulled back and set his forehead to hers; his breathing erratic and hard.

“You do realize what you're doing to me, right?” he asked.

“Acutely,” she said. “And I'm guessing you want to stop.”

He rolled his head to the side and saw the two security guards looking their way, along with various other personnel from the back-stage road crew that had stopped to take notice.

“You're used to having an audience, Lace. I'm not.”

“They've seen much worse,” she said.

“I'm not doubting that.”

Lacey took his hand and led him to the security desk. She grabbed a guest pass off the table and slid it over Fynn's head.

“Mr. Beckett is my guest tonight,” she said. “Please make a note of that.”

From there, Lacey tugged him down the hall, introducing him first to Paul and then she headed toward Annie's dressing room.

“We might as well get this over with now,” she said, and knocked on Annie's door.

“Get what over with?” he asked.

Michael opened the door. His eyes hit Lacey, but quickly bounced to Flynn. A smile formed on Michael's face, then he held out his hand for Flynn to shake.

“Flynn, I'd like you to meet Michael Wade,” Lacey said. “Annie's husband.”

“Nice to meet you, Flynn,” Michael said. “We've heard a lot about you.”

“That's not true,” Lacey said. “He's heard little to nothing about you.”

Flynn shook Michael's hand and glanced at Lacey. Then Annie shoved her way past Michael and said hello to Flynn.

“Good to see you again,” she said, and smiled approvingly at Lacey.

“We were just about to head down to get something to eat,” Michael said. “Care to join us?”

“We could do that,” Lacey said, and took Flynn's hand.

They followed Annie and Michael down the hall to the VIP restaurant overlooking the arena seating area.

“You could have given me a little advance warning on that,” Flynn said.

“On what?”

“Meeting Mike.”

“Don't tell me you're star-struck over him,” she laughed.

Flynn looked at her and smiled; the warmth of his hazel eyes meeting her blue. “I didn't have time to think of anything to say.”

“Well, you passed the first test without even knowing it,” Lacey said.

“What test was that?”

“You didn't say how you've been a fan of his your whole life. He hates that,” she said. “I like hearing it, but the sentiment gets lost on Michael. He says he's too old and hardened by the business to give a shit.”

Lacey led Flynn into the restaurant and pointed out the buffet table, heaped with roasted turkey, a steamship round of beef, salads of every variety, and trays towering with sweet desserts.

“Do you get this before every show?” he asked.

“Certainly not, but this is a charity event and the promoters take very good care of the performers.”

They walked to the food table and filled their plates, then found a table to sit at to eat. Lacey and Annie excused themselves to use the ladies room and left Flynn alone with Michael.

Michael took a swig of his iced tea and looked across the table at Flynn.

“So you're the new boyfriend?” he asked, but it came out sounding more like a statement.

“Friends,” Flynn corrected.

Michael tossed his head back and laughed, then leaned forward over the table. “If you were 'just friends', you wouldn't be sitting here. You'd be outside waiting in line with a few thousand of Lacey's other friends.”

Flynn grinned at that and reached for his bottle of beer. “It sounds like you're about to ask me what my intentions are with her.”

“And what would your answer be?” Michael asked.

Flynn couldn't hold back his laugh. “You have history with Lacey,” he said. “I get it, but I have no intention of hurting her. I can assure you of that much.”

“We have more than history together,” Michael said. “We're family. And although she likes to come off as being a tough girl, she's really quite the opposite.”

Flynn held Michael's gaze for a long moment. It was clear Michael meant business but he also knew it was coming from the heart and he wasn't trying to sound like a hard-ass making a threat. Michael was simply trying to protect someone he cared deeply about and Flynn could respect that.

Flynn looked at his plate and the remaining uneaten food. “I really like her,” he said. “And I'd like to try and make something work.”

Michael nodded, seemingly pleased with Flynn's answer. A commotion by the door distracted their attention. They both turned in time to see Lacey being lifted off the floor and spun around in a bear hug by a very burly looking man.

“That's Annie's band manager, Bruce Ingram,” Michael said. “He used to be Lacey's manger until a few years ago.”

Michael watched Annie and Lacey approach them and smiled. “In one way or another, we've all known each other for years,” he said. “Isn't that right, babe,” he said to Annie, kissing her lightly on the lips as she sat down beside him.

“What kind of crap are you filling Flynn's head with now?” Lacey asked.

“I was telling him how we're all just one big, twisted family,” Michael said.

“Dysfunction with a capital D,” Annie said. “But it works and we're happy, and that's all that matters.”

After eating, Lacey and Flynn retreated to her dressing room where she spent some time warming up on an acoustic guitar and doing scales with her voice. Flynn sat on the couch, silently watching her; his arms folded behind his head, his thighs spread wide. Lacey glanced over at him and nearly dropped her guitar. She could clearly see the outline of an erection in his pants. The expression on his face said it all.

She set her guitar down in its stand and walked over to him. Her eyes held his; her breath came quicker, her fingers went to the hem of her dress and slowly lifted. Flynn's gaze dropped to the movement, hungrily canvassing her bare skin. She saw him swallow hard, then his hands reached and slid around the backs of her thighs; fingers fanning over her warm flesh.

She shifted closer and allowed him to pull her to him, his face pressed to her lower belly. She heard him inhale; a low moan vibrating through the fabric of her dress. She carefully set one knee on the couch beside his hip and then placed the other on the opposite side and sat back, efficiently straddling his lap.

His calloused palms inched up the outside of her thighs and around the back to cup her bottom. His eyes lifted to hers.

“Panties?” he asked.

“Always when I'm on stage,” she said. Her fingers raked through his hair, gripped the ends, and pulled his head back against the couch.

“Glad to hear it,” he hissed, then his fingers disappeared beneath the silken material.

Lacey rocked her hips backward and teased his bottom lip with the tip of her tongue and Flynn swore under his breath.

“Am I pressuring you?” she asked, licking him again.

“You're asking for trouble, Lace.”

“Am I?” she asked, grinding herself against the thick length of his erection. “Am I playing with fire?” This time she lightly bit his bottom lip. “Lucky for me, you know how to put out fires.”

Flynn firmly squeezed Lacey's buttocks and rotated her hips over his lap. She gasped at the grip he had on her; teetering right on the razor's edge of pain, and oddly that only aroused her more. She bent to him and Flynn took her mouth, possessing it with his tongue; the heat of his breath burning her lips. Again, he twisted her hips, tipped her forward, and directly rubbed her mound over the hard ridge of his cock.

Lacey whimpered, against his lips, feeling the erotic sensations ripping through her body, her womb tightening, her juices pooling at her center. She spread her thighs wider for him and allowed the first ripples to course through her.

His fingers slipped beneath the front of her panties and found the hardened bead of her *. He applied the slightest amount of pressure to the tiny bud and sent Lacey crashing over the edge into a blinding release. When the last of her tremors subsided, she fell against his chest and closed her eyes; waiting for her breathing to return to normal.

Flynn kissed her temple and chuckled. “Did I put the fire out?”

A slow smile formed on her lips. “You think that's funny?”

“No, I think it's hot.”

“You wait until later and I'll show you hot,” she said, easing herself from his lap.

A knock on the door made them both jump.

“Five minutes,” a man's voice called to them from the other side of the door.

Flynn glanced at Lacey.

“Don't worry,” she said. “Generally speaking, five minutes means more like ten to fifteen.”

She stood up from the couch, adjusted her panties and then her dress, and fluffed her hair in the mirror. “Does it look like I just experienced the best orgasm of my life?” she asked.

“In your whole life?” he asked.

“I'll let you know tomorrow,” she said. She walked to the wall mirror and double checked her make-up in the mirror then sat in a chair and pulled off her high-heeled sandals in favor of the well-worn cowboy boots he had seen her wear on numerous occasions. She pulled them onto her feet and stood up, spinning around for Flynn.

“What'd you think?” she asked.

“Sexy as hell,” he said, his eyes glued to her long, tanned legs and the twirling fabric of the dress brushing against her thighs.

Another knock on the door, had Lacey reaching for her guitar.

“One minute!” the voice called.

“Time for me to go to work,” Lacey said, and opened up the door. They met Annie and Michael in the hallway and several other people, all with the duty of escorting them down the hall toward the stage. Flynn slid his arm around Lacey's waist and held her close.

They took a series of hallways that led to a metal walkway behind the stage. The closer they got to the arena, the louder the crowd noise became; the distinct sound of feet stomping began to pound inside Flynn's chest. Then the bass drum kicked in, thumping off a musical intro. The stage manager pulled his earphones off his head and directed Annie and Lacey to stop at the side entrance to the stage.

Flynn could see the other musicians taking their positions on stage, strapping on guitars, the keyboard player stepping up onto his platform, and a spot light traversing the screaming audience.

A heavy, thudding pulse vibrated his whole body. He had never been this close to the stage or seen all the action taking place behind the curtains. Dozens of men from the

road crew hurried around, repositioning cables and crates of equipment, making all sorts of last minute adjustments to the set. A handful more, were yelling out specific instructions. It all seemed to be very controlled chaos, and as Flynn thought, a total adrenaline rush – exactly like Lacey had described it.

Lacey turned to him and hugged him tightly, burying her face into his chest.

“You nervous?” he asked, pressing a soft kiss to her eyebrow.

“Hell no,” she said. “Excited, yes, but not nervous.”

He used his fingers to comb through her long hair. “Shall I wish you good luck or tell you to go break a leg?”

Lacey smiled at him then leaned in for a kiss. It was short and very sweet because the stage manager was gripping her by the elbow and pulling her away.

She gave Flynn a wave, then stepped out beyond the curtained area and into the stage lighting and all hell broke loose in the crowd. The cheering noises were deafening. Michael offered Flynn a headset to wear but he turned it down. He didn't want to miss a single note, even if it meant his ears would be ringing for days after the concert.

Michael showed Flynn to an area at the side of the stage where they could stand or sit and perfectly see the show while remaining hidden from the audience. Flynn's heart was racing wildly. He had never experienced anything with this much intensity. Michael pointed to the white tape positioned on the floor.

“We're fine as long as we stay behind the white tape lines,” he said. “Go beyond that and you'll get way more than you bargained for.”

Flynn wasn't exactly sure what Michael meant by the comment but nodded in agreement, then sat up on an empty crate of equipment beside Michael. A drumbeat later, Annie and Lacey ripped into their first song and Michael started clapping, then put his fingers into his mouth to whistle his appreciation.

“Now, that's my idea of a wet dream,” Michael said, mesmerized by the women performing before him on stage. “Best part though, for us it isn't a dream. We actually get to go home with them later.” He laughed at his own joke.

Flynn looked back at Lacey. She literally came to life in front of him, spinning around and playing guitar with fire like no one he had ever seen – except for Michael. Before Michael had taken a bullet for his friend and band mate, Brian Lofgren, Michael was considered one of the world's best guitar players. The injury had sidelined him in more than one way.

“I see Lacey's wearing her lucky boots,” Michael commented. “You should ask her about the history behind those boots and how many beds they've been under.” He chuckled again and glanced at Flynn, who wasn't smiling. “They weren't her boots when the history was made,” Michael said.

Two and half hours later, and after three encores, Lacey and Annie were finally able to leave the stage. Michael and Flynn were the first to congratulate them on a show they'd surely be talking about for a long time to come. Flynn moved behind Lacey and slid his arms around her waist; kissing the back of her head.

“Oh, my God – I need a shower,” Lacey said. “I'm dripping with sweat.”

“Michael and I are headed downtown later. Maybe you'd like to join us?” Annie asked.

Lacey looked at Flynn from over her shoulder and smiled. Was it her imagination, or did his cock just poke her in the hip? She giggled at the thought, then turned back to Annie.

“I think I'd rather head back to the hotel and...shower,” Lacey said.

“Shower? Oh, right. Because the showers here no longer work,” Annie winked.

“I'll call you tomorrow,” Lacey said, and kissed Annie on the cheek.

Within the hour, Lacey was pushing open the door to her suite. “Here we are,” she announced, tossing her garment bag over the back of a chair and moving into the living room.

“Holy shit,” Flynn said, looking around. “Nice dump.”

Lacey sat down on a plush couch and pulled off her boots, then padded her way toward the bathroom. When she reached the doorway she stopped and looked at him.

“Make yourself comfortable,” she said. “Kitchen is that way. Bedroom is through the double French doors and I'll be right out.”

Flynn nodded and watched her close the door. His heart began to race again, but this time it wasn't in anticipation of a rock concert. It was racing for Lacey; nearly busting out of his chest at the thought of being with her - in bed; tangled in the sheets and drowning himself in the touch and taste of her. How many times in the last few weeks had he fantasized about this, then jerked himself to orgasm at the thought of it?

Now he was alone in a hotel room with her and he had never felt more insecure about himself. The things she made him feel scared him. She tapped into that carnal spot inside that he had managed to keep buried; never feeling comfortable exposing it - until Lacey. She was pushing buttons he wasn't aware he had and he feared the passion she ignited might consume them both.

He rubbed his forehead and walked to the windows overlooking the Public Gardens. The view of Boston at night was simply breathtaking but not nearly as stunning as the sight that was waiting for him when he turned around.

Across the room, Lacey made her way to him; wearing only a short, powder-blue satin robe loosely tied at her waist. Her smile was breathtaking.

Steam from the bathroom shower rolled into the room behind her, curling up toward the ceiling. Flynn could smell her fragrance hanging in the mist.

“Did you enjoy the show?” she asked.

“Watching you perform like that was incredible,” he said.

She took another step closer and he reached for her; pulling her against him. Barefoot, she fit easily beneath his jaw line. Flynn set his chin on the top of her damp hair and wrapped his arms around her. Lacey pressed her cheek to his chest and listened to the sound of his heart. Then nuzzled her nose in the open vee of his shirt collar. Soft curls of chest hair tickled her face.

“I need to get off my feet,” she said, and took his hand, guiding him through the open French doors and into the dimly lit bedroom.

She climbed onto the king-sized bed covered in a thick, cotton quilt, then slid on her knees up to the dense pile of pillows positioned at the headboard.

“We can talk in here and I'll be a whole lot more comfortable laying down than I would be standing,” she said. She tucked her legs beneath her and settled herself; the robe slipped off one shoulder and almost fully exposed her breast. She did nothing to fix it.

Flynn moved to the side of the bed and studied her form; warm, smooth, and he imagined, wet where it mattered most. The knot in his groin began to tighten.

“Can I ask what you and Michael talked about?” Lacey asked.

“Mainly you,” he said. “He wanted to make sure I understood the 'family dynamic' you all have and he doesn't want it messed with.”

“Michael's being over-protective and he doesn't need to be,” Lacey said. “I'm a big girl.”

“I can see that,” he said.

Lacey patted the empty space beside her on the bed. Flynn sat down on the edge and took off his shoes, then rolled over to face her. He rested his head on the pillows and their eyes met and held. He inhaled slowly, noticing every minute detail of her face. Her liquid eyes sparkled, cheeks flushed, and lips so full and wanting. Then his gaze dropped to the exposed curve of her breast and the perfect dusty-rose colored nipple, hardened and waiting for his touch.

When his eyes rose again to hers, she saw hesitation in them. “You're not sure about being here, are you?”

“It's not that,” he said.

“Just be honest, Flynn,” she said. “Tell me what you're thinking.”

She reached out and ran her fingers through the hair at his temple. Flynn caught her hand and turned it over. With his eyes never leaving hers, he slowly kissed the soft pulse-point on the underside of her wrist; his tongue drawing liquid circles. Then she felt the sharp nip of his teeth biting into her skin and the silky texture of his lips quickly removing the sting of the bite. Lacey heard herself moan.

“Right there,” he said. “That's what I'm talking about.”

Lacey shook her head. “I'm not following.”

Flynn eased his fingers around the back of her neck and gently pulled. Lacey

arched to him; her lips were so close to his now, but he continued to hold himself back

from taking her.

“I've never felt anything this powerful,” he whispered. “You make me feel things I have no right to feel.”

Her fingers stroked his face; her thumb skimmed across his lower lip and his tongue licked the tip of it.

“The chemistry we have is crazy good,” she said. “I don't want to walk away from it - I don't think I can.”

Flynn jerked at the robe tie and felt it release in his hand, then pushed away the satiny fabric, completely exposing her to him. His eyes quickly raked over her bare flesh; a noise sounding like a low growl escaped his throat. Lacey's fingers diligently began undoing the buttons on his shirt. While she did that, Flynn worked on removing his jeans and boxer briefs.

He had never felt such urgency to be naked in all his life. The need to be pressed to her; bare skin against bare skin, was killing him. When the last button on the shirt released, he slouched it off his shoulders and pushed the jeans and boxers to his feet, then tossed all the garments to the floor in a ball.

He had her against the mattress and was on her before she had a chance to drink in the sight of him, but she could feel him. Good Lord, could she feel him; every flat, muscled plane and throbbing inch he had was was rubbing all over her. His mouth

hovered over hers; hot panting breaths heating her face.

“I'm not sure I can give you gentle, Lace. I'm borderline out of control right now.”

Lacey smiled up at him and forcefully dragged her long finger nails down his spine; leaving thin red lines on his skin. Flynn closed his eyes and cursed, then arched in her arms when her fingers dug into the flesh of his butt. She felt his cock flex between their bodies and suddenly realized what really got Flynn's heart racing.

And then he kissed her and Lacey nearly blacked-out from the pleasure. His mouth moved to her throat and to the soft bend of her shoulder. He sucked then bit his way to her breasts. His tongue swirled over one pointed peak, while his hand massaged the perfect roundness of her other breast. His mouth covered every inch of her firm mounds, then focused on the soft bulge on the side of her breast, sucking until he knew he had branded her.

Lacey combed his hair with her hands; hugging his head to her chest. The attention he was giving to her ultra-sensitive nipples was on the verge of hurting, but the friction his lower belly and groin created when he rubbed himself in loose circular patterns across her pelvis and hips was sending her to heaven. Her insides were boiling. She could feel the pulse from her center beating in her ears; her sex, swollen and saturated with juices, had started to ache.

Another shift of his body and Lacey felt her womb clench. She was close, so very close, if she didn't have him inside her soon, she was certain she would die. He levered himself above her resting on his elbows; his lips brushed hers, nipping, licking, while his hips pushed forward, sliding the full length of his cock up and down the slit of her moist folds and directly over her *.

Lacey's fingers dug into his shoulders. Her neck arched on the bed; eyes squeezed shut, and her mind exploded into thousands of white, fiery flashes of light behind her lids. Her whole body tightened, as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed through her.

The next thing she was conscientiously aware of was him kissing her; his tongue sparking new flames inside her. His fingers rolled a condom over his cock and he settled back between her legs, never breaking the seal he had on her mouth.

The thick head of his penis pressed at her center, separating the folds and stretching her open. Her arms draped loosely around his neck.

“You have me in knots, Lace,” he whispered beside her ear. He eased the first couple of inches inside her heat. Slick and so tight, he could already feel the gentle spasms of her muscles clenching him and he nearly lost it.

“F*ck,” he hissed. “You feel too good, baby. I can't do easy right now. It'll have to be hard and fast.”

All she could do was whimper his name. One thrust and he was deeper than he imagined was possible. He didn't allow time for her body to adjust to his size; he had no control over his lust at all, just a fevered need he hoped she could quench.

He lifted the back of her thigh and draped it around his hip, then drove into her again. He expected her to deflect his full thrusts; hold him off for fear of being physically hurt. Instead she seemed to fight to get him deeper and keep him snug against the spot he was certain he could feel the pounding of her heart.

Then her body clamped around him with a force he'd never felt before, barely allowing him room to move. And there it was before him; melting all his nerve endings, a rush so strong and hot, it lifted all the tiny hairs on his body as it raced up his legs, circled his groin until his balls started to ache, then shot from the tip of his cock in an orgasm that was as necessary as his next breath of air.

When the tiny quakes in his body finally started to subside, Flynn looked at her and saw confusion in her eyes and the bliss he had felt moments before faded.

“Jesus, I hurt you,” he signed, pulling himself from her body, then wrapping his arms around her. “I'm so sorry, Lace. I've never felt that crazed before.” He kissed her temple and felt a shiver rock her.

“Me neither,” she said softly.

“What'd you say?” he asked, tipping back to see her face.

She raised her eyebrows and smiled at him. “I liked it, Flynn. I liked it so much it scared me.”

“I should have guessed you'd like it rough,” he said with a smile.

“Not necessarily rough, but it's nice to finally be with someone that's a bit assertive,” she said. “I like sensitive, but not to the point I'm treated like glass. I won't break.”

He started laughing and laid back into the pillows. He draped his forearm over his eyes and said, “You and I together could be dangerous.”

“Combustible, maybe,” she said. “But I doubt dangerous.”

Lacey rose up on an elbow and studied his form. Swirls of dark chest hair lay matted to his breasts with sweat. A long thin line started at his chest bone and led her eyes all the way to his groin. His cock was still engorged and pulsing. Lacey couldn't believe the size of it. Her womb clenched again at the thought it had just been inside her.

She tossed the arm off his face and his head rolled to her. A smile lifted one side of his mouth, his green-hazel eyes glistened. She touched his cheek, then ran an index finger along his jaw line and across his lips. His tanned skin, tiny laugh lines around his eyes, and a thin layer of beard stubble, created an amazing palette of rugged facial features. Lacey pinched his chin between her thumb and index fingers.

“You're beautiful,” she sighed.

He pulled her down to him, her breasts pressing to his chest. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. Their tongues met and gently stroked. His fingers moved up the back of her head and massaged her scalp. Her long blond hair fell around his face and shoulders; veiling him.

Flynn moaned and eased her onto her back, his lips holding hers. His palm circled over the sweet peak of her nipple and Lacey arched.

“And you...take my breath away,” he whispered.

He kissed her chin and the soft spot beneath, then drew a long, wet line down her throat with his tongue. His mouth moved to her breasts and thoughts of eating her alive flashed through his head. The physical response she gave him with every spot his mouth touched was driving him crazy. Soft whimpers, moans, and sexy little humming noises greeted him at each new location his mouth gave attention to.

His tongue swirled around the rim of her navel, dipping inside, and again, Lacy vocalized her appreciation. His fingers found the wetness at her center, and this time, he was the one to moan his approval. He eased a thick finger inside her and Lacey's hips lifted off the bed. He brought the finger to his lips and pushed it into his mouth. Lacey watched him lick his finger; the desperate look on her face a perfect match for the feeling he had simmering inside himself.

“I have to taste you, Lace,” he said. “Think you can handle that?”

“I'll hurt you if you don't,” she said.

The smile he flashed her was filled with mischief. He used his shoulders to spread her legs wider; then rubbed his face over the neatly trimmed, light brown strip of hair at her vee. His tongue reached out and stole a quick taste, just before the heat of his mouth covered her mound. Her hands grabbed fistfuls of his hair.

His tongue separated her wet folds and erotically lapped. Painfully slow, his tongue explored, swirled over her *, then gently sucked the stiff, little bud into his mouth. He couldn't get enough of her taste on his tongue, his fingers; the scent of her arousal all over his face. He glanced up at Lacey, saw her head thrashing on the mattress and wondered which one of them was deriving more pleasure.

“Oh, my God, Flynn – please!”

He kept his eyes on her and watched her become unglued beneath him; saw the color pitch in her face, her hips rising to press her moist center firmly to his mouth. It was hotter than anything he had ever seen and once again, she took his breath away.

Before the last of her spasms had finished, Flynn had his cock sheathed in another condom and the head pressed against her opening; his eyes gazed down at her, as if waiting for permission. Her heat was scorching him, fluid silk, coating every inch he slowly fed to her. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to bury himself inside her. If it killed him, this time he would give her slow and easy.

Lacey's fingers slid over his smooth, muscled shoulders, then skimmed the hardened planes of his back and settled on his hips. She gripped him there, fascinated with his subtle motion and the electricity he was creating for both of them. She bit her bottom lip and squeezed his butt.

Flynn dropped down, resting his weight on his elbows and eased two more inches into her. His lips brushed hers. He could hear her ragged breaths, feel her breasts rising to meet his.

He pushed another inch into her fiery depths and nearly lost it. She was so tight, so creamy; he wanted to drown in her. She wrapped her legs around his hips and Flynn slid more of himself inside.

“I need more,” her soft voice said.

He looked at her; inviting liquid eyes gleaming up at him, and unfamiliar feelings gripped at his heart again. He tamped the emotion down and rolled over on the bed, pulling Lacey along with him, positioning her on top. She sat back on his cock and sunk the rest of him inside, making both their breaths catch. She sat still for a minute, adjusting; wrapping herself around him, loving the ache of having him so deep.

She bent forward and pushed his arms above his head and held him in place.

“I should tie you to the bed,” she said. “And keep you here forever.”

His cock flexed inside her; reaching, probing further; thickening. She rocked back on him again and he groaned.

“Being tied up appeals to you, doesn't it?” she asked.

“Tying you up has even more,” he said.

He smiled at her, his face flushing, and sweat starting to form on his forehead. Lacey rotated in his lap and surveyed the headboard. There was no way she could restrain him in this bed. Then an idea hit her, and she bent forward, pressing her breasts to his chest.

“This bed won't work, but the brass bed I've been using at your cottage would work nicely.” Her grin was wicked. “Perhaps we could try that when we get home?”

Jesus, he liked the sound of that. At home. In bed. With Lacey. Did it get any better than that? He had a feeling he was going to miss a lot of work over the next few weeks, screwing Lacey senseless in every conceivable position imaginable and in locations both inside and outside their houses.

“Spin around on me like that again and I'm going to come,” he said.

Lacey arched and slid her fingers between her wet lips. “How about I sit perfectly still and do this instead?” she asked, rubbing circles over her *. “Would that make you last longer?”

Flynn pulsed again inside her. This new visual had him teetering on the edge of insanity. “Watching you do that makes it worse – or better, depending on how long you want me to last.”

Lacey's thighs gripped Flynn's hips tighter, holding her in place on top of his massive erection. Her fingers began to work faster on her *; her other hand played with her nipples. In no time at all, her insides began to constrict and she started to climax. As soon as he felt her spasms, Flynn grabbed her hips and began thrusting beneath her, using fast, deep strokes. The added stimulus had Lacey screaming.

When it was over, she laid down on his chest and snuggled into his neck. Flynn wrapped his arms around her, his cock still sending subtle pulses to her core. There was a huge sense of peace and contentment that came from being with Flynn. The feeling was new and it confused her. Maybe her female hormones were getting the best of her, she thought, making her overly emotional over nothing. Maybe just like Flynn, she too, was feeling things she had no right to feel. The sting of tears began to bite at her eyes. She quietly rolled off of him.

He turned to face her, sliding the hair off her forehead with his index finger.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

Lacey touched his chest and ran her fingers through the soft wisps of hair swirling over his nipples. She didn't dare look him in the eye for fear her tears would spill and she'd look like an idiot.

He tipped her chin up with his finger and rubbed his lips against hers.

“Tell me what's bothering you,” he said. Each second that passed and she remained silent, he feared the worst. Maybe she'd ask him to leave. Maybe she had finally come to her senses and wondered what the hell she was doing with the likes of him.

“This feels...different,” she finally said.

“Different good or different bad?” he asked.

“Different fantastic.”

Flynn smiled against her lips and sighed. “You had me worried.”

Lacey turned onto her back and covered her eyes. She had to figure this out, had to find the reason behind these new feelings welling inside her. This wasn't about the mind-blowing sex – it went far deeper than that. She looked at him and saw the concern in his eyes and it hit her. She had feelings for Flynn. She felt a real attachment to a man she'd only known a few short weeks. How was that possible? She was one of the few females she knew that could sleep with men purely for the pleasure and happily walk away when it was over.

She stroked the side of Flynn's handsome face. There was no way she wanted to walk away from him. Certainly not this weekend or anytime soon. He had told her she was 'temporary' and had used that as an excuse not to get involved. Now she understood why. Leaving him would kill her, and yet, staying with him forever and living in east bum-f*ck Massachusetts seemed just as crazy.

“I thought you might be having second thoughts,” he said.

“About what?” she asked.

“Me coming to Boston.”

Lacey shook her head. “None at all,” she said. “How about you?”

Flynn set his cheek to her breasts; his fingers spread across her lower belly. “Feels like a dream,” he said. “And I don't want to wake up.”

She kneaded the tight muscles in his neck, then moved down to work on his shoulders and back. She heard him moan softly and a moment later she realized he was asleep.