Baby Makes Three - Page 170

Flynn took me to the hoedown that night and tripped over his feet the entire time. We actually ended up just swaying in the corner for the rest of the night while we smiled and talked in our own little world, and that was the first night Flynn, and I would have sex with one another.

It was a night I’d never forget, but the memories came rushing back when I felt Flynn rub his thumb over that tattoo on my shoulder.

But before I came to from my memories, I heard the bathroom door quietly click shut, and I was left alone to silently bathe in my tears.

Chapter 13: Flynn

Every single time I did something, there was always a ‘linger.’ A lingering stare, or a lingering touch. A lingering smile or a lingering warmth. Every time I was around Chelsea, I felt this drastic pull to her being, and when the ‘linger

’ became too long, she pulled back. I could see it in the way her skin blushed where I touched it, and I could hear it in her voice when it involuntarily got smokier when I was around. She wanted me as much as I wanted her, but she denied every chance I asked for when it came to talking with her.

I brought her cabbage soup and slowly worked her up to solid foods, and after the first week of her recuperation, she was eating my homemade macaroni and cheese. I ran her baths every evening and made sure to keep her favorite bath salts in stock, and whenever she started racking up dirty towels and laundry, I made sure to wash and dry them with fabric softener so they would be comfortable against her skin when she slept. Her body was still tired, and we were still changing bandages on her head, but little by little I saw the Chelsea I remembered emerge.

I always reminded her that she needed assistance walking down the stairs and that we could always watch a movie in her room, and by the time the movie was finished she was always slumped over into my lap and dead asleep in my grip. I watched her breaths rise and fall numerous times over the course of that first week, and studying her up close only added to the beauty I saw in her face. Her light crow’s feet that were emerging due to stress only added to the wondrous time etched on her face, and her skin was even softer than I imagined. For all the times I’d woken up alone, and without her, I made sure to be there-- holding her close and keeping her safe-- for whenever she woke up from those naps.

A part of me wanted to watch her stretch and groan with sleep, and a part of me didn’t want her to feel as lonely as I felt whenever I woke up alone. Even if she didn’t think I deserved better than that, I knew she did.

“You hungry?” she would croak.

“Whatcha in the mood for?” I’d smile.

She’d throw out a few suggestions that would make me chuckle: steak and potatoes, lobster and noodles, hibachi stir fry and a stiff drink. But, we’d always settle on something easier for her stomach, like soup or rice and beans or the occasional reheated cabbage soup broth.

“It’s just so good,” she’d gulp.

I couldn’t help but watch her lips wrap around those glasses and that bowl. She was so beautiful, even in her bandaged state, and it killed me to think that she was in that kind of danger without me around. It was no one’s fault, and Lord knows I don’t blame anything but the snake for it, but I had come within millimeters of losing Chelsea, and the only thing it did was make me pay attention to her more.

Like when her hips swayed when she walked or when her hair billowed when she turned around.

Hell, she even looked graceful puking up her guts in my toilet whenever she’d turn around and billow her hair too fast.

But one night, I saw it in her eyes. One night I rushed into her room because I heard her calling out for me and thrashing around, and when I busted into her room, she was half-naked and tossing around in her covers. She was having a nightmare, and I sat on the edge of her bed, desperate to get her to stop moving around so damn much. She still had a concussion from what the doctor said when he had come by the day before, and strenuous movements were still out of the picture.

“Chelsea,” I said strongly. “Chelsea, wake up.”

“Help! Flynn!” she yelled.

“Chelsea!” I roared. I grasped her shoulders and shook her lightly, and when her eyes flew open, she darted up and wrapped her arms around me.

“Oh, my God,” she breathed.

I could feel her trembling, and all I could do was hold her close. I turned my lips into her face and peppered her cheek with kisses, and when I caught my tears with her lips, I began running my hands up and down her back. I tried to not pay attention to the fact that her bare tits were pressed up against me, but I could feel them puckering against my naked chest even as I sat there comforting her in the middle of the night.

“You wanna talk about it?” I murmured lowly in her ear. But, all I did was feel her shake her head no.

But then, she turned her lips into my neck and lightly grazed her teeth against my skin.

“Chelsea…” I warned. I felt myself growing underneath my flannel pajama pants, and I knew that if she didn’t stop, then I’d have some serious problems restraining myself.

“Oh, Flynn,” I heard her sigh. Her fingernails lightly dug into the skin of my back, and I had to bite back a groan rising up in my throat, and when she pulled back, I watched her eyes flicker to my lips.

“Are you alright?” I asked lowly.

“Always, when you’re around.”

She leaned into my lips, and she tasted like the sweet tea she’d had with dinner. Her breath smelled of biscuits and honey, and the smell of her essence wafted from between her legs. I knew she couldn’t be jostled, and I knew I had to be gentle, but dear God I’d wanted her since the moment she crossed into my home, and damn it I was about to be as gentle as I could if it meant feeling her against me again.

I slowly dragged my lips down her neck while I laid her back onto her bed, and when I got to her nipples, I slowly pulled one between my lips. I felt her arch into me, and I slipped my hands underneath the small of her back, and I kissed down the clothed front of her body as my dick began to grow beneath the fabric of my pajama pants.

Tags: Nicole Elliot Romance
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