He had no clue.
“So?” She rested her hands on her hips, watching him with the cute scrunched-eyebrows look she wore quite often. “Were you going to ask me something?”
He nodded, removing his own jacket and letting it drop on top of hers on the chair. “The conversation we had earlier with Nick and Willow.” Pausing, he suppressed the groan that wanted to escape when she kicked off those sexy heels she wore, dropping about four inches in height. Damn, she was cute.
“What about it?”
“You didn’t really think Willow meant she wanted to have an orgy with us…did you?” He couldn’t imagine Willow being serious about it, but weirder things had happened. The talk in the locker room turned filthy more often than not. Stories were shared there that would set Aubrey’s head spinning—and her ears burning. After hearing them tossed around so often, he’d become kind of numb to the outrageous tales. He could handle it, knew how to tune out their voices.
Flynn was exhausted enough just playing football. He couldn’t imagine trying to pleasure two women at once. Dating a variety of women in one night.
He worried one was too much. Could he really handle a relationship with Aubrey? Being torn in too many different directions, having to please his father, his coach, his teammates, himself, and a woman on top of all of that? Could he deal?
His head was spinning just thinking about it.
“No. Are you serious? Don’t tell me you believed it. She phrased it all wrong. I would’ve never even thought she was implying a swapping situation between us, if Nick hadn’t been such a jerk and made the orgy reference.” Aubrey shook her head with a little sigh. “I think I need to work on him some more. As his publicist, I need to control that mouth of his. What if he said something like that in public?”
“He wouldn’t. He’s not that stupid. And hell, you never know.” He shrugged, feeling like an ass. “I’ve heard some crazy stories from my teammates when it comes to women. They’ve all seemed to do some outrageous stuff.”
“I’m sure,” she said wryly. “You don’t have any crazy stories to contribute?”
Flynn shook his head, relieved that she was acting like her normal, sweet-Aubrey self. “Not really.” If he wanted to be an asshole, he could tell them about his nights with Aubrey. But he wouldn’t do that. What he shared with Aubrey was just between them.
God, look what this woman did to him. It was bad enough, the wholesome image he put on for all of America to see. To start thinking with such an aw-shucks attitude was ridiculous. He was starting to believe his own hype.
Now, that was damn scary.
“You’ve got nothing?” She sounded like she didn’t believe him. “No outrageous fan who would do anything to get into your pants and finally wore you down? Then you finally banged her just to get rid of her?”
He winced. “Hell no. That would make me all sorts of an ass, wouldn’t it?”
“No, it would make you a typical guy who became a professional athlete and had to deal with fame and women coming at him quicker than he could process it. What guy could resist that? What man wouldn’t make a few mistakes along the way?” She threw her hands up in the air, almost like she was disappointed that he hadn’t been a total player.
“Not me. I didn’t,” he said emphatically, settling heavily on the edge of the bed. He gazed up at her, surprised that she seemed so damn…disappointed in his nonplayer status. “Is that what you want, Aubrey? A guy who’s banged an endless number of faceless, nameless chicks? Some asshole, whose sole purpose in life is to get laid? Because I hate to disappoint you, but I’m not that guy.”
She stared down at him, her gaze seeming to see everything, all that he’d just laid bare. He wondered if what he’d just said had been a total mistake. Dread consumed him and made his heart heavy, his head throb. “I don’t want that type of guy,” she murmured.
That wasn’t what he’d expected her to say. He’d been prepared for a fight, so her admitting that surprised him. “Tell me what you want, then,” he demanded.
Without a word, she knelt before him, her slender hands resting on his knees, spreading them apart so she could move in between them. Her scent wrapped around him, soft and floral and so deliciously her, he wanted to bury his face in the crook of her neck and breathe her in. “I want you, Flynn.”
“I want you, too.” This was not a time for words—at least lots of words. He might say something he’d regret. So he remained silent, sliding his hands into her hair, the soft strands curling around his fingers. He just wanted to touch her. Stare at her. Savor this night and end it on the right note.
Naked. In bed with Aubrey.
“I have a question for you.” She swept her thumb across his chin, her seemingly innocent touch sending sparks of awareness scattering throughout his body.
“Go for it,” he said warily. He had no idea where she would take this conversation next.
“Have you ever had a blow job?” she asked, her expression devoid of any emotion beyond innocent questioning.
Yeah. Unpredictable. This woman drove him crazy. “I’ve had a few blow jobs.” And more than a few had been offered to him. That was a football groupie’s favorite gift to give. He’d turned them all down endless times. A ridiculous amount of times, really. The very last thing he wanted was someone to leak a story of how she’d gone down on Golden Boy Flynn Foley and made him come in her mouth.
Yeah. His parents would kill him. His fans would hate him. So not the image he wanted portrayed.
“I bet it’s been a while though, right?” He released his grip on her hair as she ran her hands from his knees up his thighs, her touch featherlight, her fingers spread wide for what he figured was maximum touching. Moving in closer, her breasts almost brushed against his chest. They entranced him. Made him want to reach out and squeeze and test just how soft that sweater was.
Well, he knew how soft that sweater was, but he wanted to feel it again. Maybe slip his hands beneath the fabric this time.