Nick sent them a smirk as they passed by, but she ignored him, focused instead on the warmth from Flynn’s hand permeating her skin, even through the fabric of her sweater dress. His scent wrapped around her, clean and masculine, and she felt downright tiny standing next to him, despite her too-high boots.
She liked that. A lot. His sheer size made her feel petite and protected. She liked even more how he touched her as if she belonged to him, though she knew he didn’t mean it like that. He was just being polite. He had manners. Respect. His mama had taught him well, and Aubrey appreciated that, really she did.
But she wanted to see Flynn come undone. They flirted sometimes, and she thought she felt that they had a connection. Did he feel it too? She had a feeling he might. She’d seen the way he looked at her when he didn’t think she’d notice. There was interest in his gaze. Undeniable interest.
Just thinking about those moments she caught him staring sent a shiver down her spine. If given the chance, would he become so consumed with passion that he couldn’t resist her? She wanted him to kiss her until they couldn’t breathe, undress her until she was left a naked, shaky mess and then push inside her until the both of them were coming together with erotic moans.
“You okay?” He dipped his head, his mouth right at her ear. They were near the doorway that led to the terrace, which was near the crowded and noisy bar.
She turned to look at him, realizing a little too late how close they were. His gaze was focused on her mouth, making her lips tingle, and she licked them unconsciously, surprised at the sudden energy seeming to bounce between them.
He lifted his gaze to hers, heat filling their brilliant green depths. Hmm, interesting. “Are you cold?” he asked when she didn’t answer.
Slowly, she shook her head. More as if she was so hot she wanted to shed her dress and see what he might do when he caught sight of her sheer white lace bra and matching panties for the first time. “I’m fine. Great. Why do you ask?”
“You shivered.”
At those two words, she promptly shivered again.
“Like that.”
“Well, I’m not cold,” she murmured, wondering if he’d get the hint.
Silence hung between them, thick with tension. Everything else in the restaurant, the talking, the music, the sound of glasses clinking and silverware scraping against plates, all faded until the noise became a faint buzz. She could focus on only him, and it seemed, for once, he could focus on only her.
Not that he didn’t give her his full attention when they talked about work stuff, oh no. He just always seemed restless. A little distracted. He’d listen. He’d nod. He’d give her the right answers and then jam back out onto the field. Or head to the locker room. He never wanted his concentration off football. The game was everything to him.
Well, she wanted to be everything to him. At least for one night…
Her breath leaving her in a shaky exhale, she pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, desperate to find composure. He still hadn’t spoken, still stood so close she could feel his body heat seeping into her. His hand rested on her back, his thumb stroking a maddeningly slow circle, and she went damp at his subtle caress.
God. She was in big trouble if the stroke of his thumb on her back aroused her this much. Couldn’t imagine what might happen if he touched her anywhere else…
“Let’s go outside,” he murmured, surprising her by taking her hand and practically pulling her behind him.
She willingly obliged and let him drag her out of the restaurant, thrilled at the sudden, aggressive move. The cold night air slapped her in the face, shocking a gasp out of her as Flynn led her to the giant tree that stood on the far end of the terrace. The tree was large, with low, overhanging branches wound with twinkling white lights. The branches were currently bare, but the darkened corner offered plenty of privacy.
As in, hardly anyone would be able to see them if they stood there. And didn’t that give her a little buzz of hope?
“What did you want to talk about, Aubrey?” he asked once they stopped under the tree. They turned to face each other, his hand still swallowing hers whole, and she studied him unabashedly.
He wore a charcoal gray dress shirt, with a single button undone at the neck, and black dress pants, and he looked so hot she almost needed to squeeze her thighs together to stave off the need rushing through her. In his football uniform, in sweats, in low-hanging athletic shorts and nothing else, with sweat running down his chest in rivulets—it didn’t matter. He looked hot. Always.
“Um.” She licked her lips, her brain short-circuiting. Finally she had him where she wanted him, and she was blanking out. She probably had only a few minutes tops, and she’d already messed it up.
“Nice dress,” he said, his voice soft, interrupting her wayward thoughts.
Oh. Aubrey glanced down. The dress was black, clung to her like a second skin, and she’d had a total chicken moment when she’d first slipped it on. Afraid it might look too skanky, as though she was trying too hard. But then she’d put on some black tights and knee-high boots, thrown on a chunky silver necklace, and decided she didn’t look so skanky after all.
That Flynn complimented her, and that he actually noticed she’d put a little extra effort into her outfit tonight, sent her head spinning.
Or maybe that was the alcohol. She couldn’t be sure.
“Thank you,” she said, clearing her throat. She really needed to tell him how she felt. But how? Just blurt it out?
Flynn, I want to have wild monkey sex with you. You game?
Aubrey pressed her lips together. Maybe she should take a more subtle approach.