Contingency Plan (Blackbridge Security 3)

“And did Carla or Charles say that, because those aren’t your words.”

It’s like she read them from a pamphlet at a residential treatment center or something.

“Charles, but they came from my mother’s mouth first. I’m sure you noticed she doesn’t really speak to me unless it’s to correct something she deems I did wrong.”

I sit back in my chair, my food devoured. “I think you should just do it. Just get up one day and leave. Make a plan and set out to live your own life.”

“Says the man paid to chase after me every time I leave the house.”Chapter 16Remington

I have skills. Not like technical skills, but seduction? I’m a pro.

Or at least I thought I was ace at it until right now.

Making a man drool with the sight of my body? Easy as pie.

Making a man lose his train of thought and turn into an easily manipulated wreck? Give me five minutes.

Sitting on a couch with Flynn Coleman while pretending to watch a stupid movie? I’m like a prepubescent kid stealing glances at my lifelong crush.

It’s awkward, and if he looks at me—he hasn’t once since we sat down that I’ve noted—he’d easily see how uneasy I am. How fidgety my entire body is.

We did this very same thing yesterday after getting home from lunch. Three movies and three feet of distance between the two of us.

The. Entire. Time.

He didn’t reposition himself to get more comfortable which would inevitably put him closer to me. He didn’t rest his hand on the damn sofa cushion between us. Didn’t brush my leg or look longingly at me. Didn’t even turn off the lights in the room when the sun set and we opted to watch another one of those old, cheesy horror movies he likes.

Nothing.

I don’t even think his eyes followed me out of the room when I managed a goodnight and disappeared up the stairs.

So explain to me why I’ve signed up for yet another day exactly like that?

I know I shouldn’t complain. He’s not bolting out of the room and making himself scarce like my parents do, but the silence isn’t exactly companionable when all I want to do is straddle his lap and see what his lounge pants feel like against the apex of my leggings.

Instead, I’m twitchy, my hands balled in my lap, fingers twisting in frustration.

“Relax,” he whispers, his eyes straight ahead on the screen. “This isn’t even the scary part.”

This clueless man.

Each breath, each time he lifts a piece of popcorn to his mouth is like foreplay. And don’t even get me started on my body’s reaction when he licks butter off the tips of his fingers.

I’m going crazy. Every second that ticks by takes another sliver of my already fragile sanity.

“I’m umm… going.”

He finally looks up at me when I stand. “You’re going to miss the best part.”

“I’m tired.” I fake a horrible yawn and stretch. “I’ll watch it some other time.”

“Are you sure?” I nod, a little too vigorously, causing him to narrow his eyes at me. “Nothing else is wrong?”

Other than my body being on fire, my legs trembling and the pulse in my clit? “Things are perfect. Just tired.”

I bolt, leaving the room as fast as I can.

I know what my plans are before I make it halfway up the stairs, entering my room and shoving the door closed. I’ve tried my damnedest not to do this. Touching yourself while thinking about a man just screams of desperation, but I can’t stay in a room any longer without some form of release. Maybe after, I’ll be able to sit three feet from him on the couch and gasp when creeps jump out at ignorant women running through the woods.

“Jesus,” I hiss, my left leg getting tangled in my leggings, causing me to fall face first on the bed. I don’t even bother with my top or my panties. My breasts have never been much of an erogenous zone—despite what magazines declare—and I can pull my panties to the side.

“Pitiful,” I moan, my fingers already finding me slick and needy. “Oh God.”

This isn’t going to take long at all. I may have time to get myself off twice, and that would make what I told Flynn true. I’ll be exhausted and in need of a nap after that.

His handsome face flashes before my mind, dark blue eyes watching me from the corner of the room. He likes what he sees, that pink tongue, the same one that felt so good against mine, licking at his lips.

I know it would feel amazing right where my fingers are, licking, flicking, teasing, his lips forming a suction that makes my back arch off the bed.

“Flynn,” I groan, my fingers making teasing circles, gathering my arousal and spreading it to that perfect little spot that drives me wild. “Fuck, Flynn.”