occurred beneath the tree more than a decade ago.
Oh no, this mind-blowing kiss was an open-mouthed expression of hunger between two people starving for each other.
Simmering need exploded as his tongue swept into her mouth, taunting her to match him thrust for thrust. She did, eager to savor the thrill of tasting this man all over again despite the foolishness.
She made a throaty sound as he angled his head, deepening the kiss to the point where she was ready to lie down and make love to him in the scattered bark around the tree’s base, without thought, without reason.
Her palms pressed against his chest, appreciating the sculpted muscle as she slid her hands around to his back. He’d never felt like this as a teen and she was annoyingly grateful to the job that would tear them apart in the end.
He broke the kiss, bestowing a trail of tiny kisses from her mouth to her ear where he gently suckled her lobe. She tilted her head back, allowing him easier access and he responded by nibbling his way down her neck to the hollow between the collarbones.
“Flynn,” she moaned, as his tongue flickered along her skin while his hands pulled her flush against him. “What the hell are we doing?”
He stilled, eased away, leaving her breathless, stunned, hankering for more and regretting an impulsive kiss for old times sake that could only add to their complications.
“We’re going at it like a couple of teenagers,” he muttered, standing and brushing down before extending a hand to her.
“Like we used to?”
She stumbled as he helped her to her feet and fell against him, his arms sliding around her waist to steady her feeling way too comfortable.
“Yeah.”
He shook his head, his smile wry. “Time to get you home. What would our son say if I kept you out too late?”
“He’d probably give you the bedtime curfew lecture I usually give him.”
He caressed her cheek, the tenderness in his eyes reaching all the way down to her heart as he dropped a quick peck on her lips before she could protest.
“I’d love to hear it. Let’s go.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Flynn’s fists thudded into the punching bag, the repetitive motion soothing.
He’d worked out at this old gym in Collingwood’s back streets as a kid, venting his frustrations over Pop’s moods by sweating it out rather than taking it out on anyone else.
Exercise had always been cathartic, had helped ground him and after last night, he’d hightailed it down here first thing.
His battle plan had been scuttled.
By one beautiful woman who his body craved even if his head insisted take the next commission and bolt back to some godforsaken hellhole.
He’d been determined to get answers, to stay aloof. Instead, the moment he’d heard her reasoning, some of his latent anger had waned.
He understood.
Lori loved Adam that much; she hadn’t wanted to put their son through what she’d had to live with.
He’d seen it over the years, army brats being dragged from one war-torn country to another, never forming real friendships, loners, always being the odd one out at their new schools.
He’d never want that for his son.
And while he understood her fears of him not returning from the front, he’d had a right to know his son, would’ve protected him from the harsh truths of his job, could’ve been there for him as much as possible.
The way he saw it, he had two choices.
Hold onto bitter resentment and sabotage a potential cordial relationship with Lori or let it go for Adam’s sake and make up for lost time with the son he’d never known.
A memory of that searing kiss flashed across his mind and he punched the bag, a quick right-left combo, jabbing at it, how he’d like to attack his common sense — or lack of it.
First time he’d kissed her had been about proving a point but last night had been all about memories and bonding and passion. Passion, dormant yet blazing, too easily reawakened.
Sure, he wanted to have a relationship with Lori, but not
Oh no, this mind-blowing kiss was an open-mouthed expression of hunger between two people starving for each other.
Simmering need exploded as his tongue swept into her mouth, taunting her to match him thrust for thrust. She did, eager to savor the thrill of tasting this man all over again despite the foolishness.
She made a throaty sound as he angled his head, deepening the kiss to the point where she was ready to lie down and make love to him in the scattered bark around the tree’s base, without thought, without reason.
Her palms pressed against his chest, appreciating the sculpted muscle as she slid her hands around to his back. He’d never felt like this as a teen and she was annoyingly grateful to the job that would tear them apart in the end.
He broke the kiss, bestowing a trail of tiny kisses from her mouth to her ear where he gently suckled her lobe. She tilted her head back, allowing him easier access and he responded by nibbling his way down her neck to the hollow between the collarbones.
“Flynn,” she moaned, as his tongue flickered along her skin while his hands pulled her flush against him. “What the hell are we doing?”
He stilled, eased away, leaving her breathless, stunned, hankering for more and regretting an impulsive kiss for old times sake that could only add to their complications.
“We’re going at it like a couple of teenagers,” he muttered, standing and brushing down before extending a hand to her.
“Like we used to?”
She stumbled as he helped her to her feet and fell against him, his arms sliding around her waist to steady her feeling way too comfortable.
“Yeah.”
He shook his head, his smile wry. “Time to get you home. What would our son say if I kept you out too late?”
“He’d probably give you the bedtime curfew lecture I usually give him.”
He caressed her cheek, the tenderness in his eyes reaching all the way down to her heart as he dropped a quick peck on her lips before she could protest.
“I’d love to hear it. Let’s go.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Flynn’s fists thudded into the punching bag, the repetitive motion soothing.
He’d worked out at this old gym in Collingwood’s back streets as a kid, venting his frustrations over Pop’s moods by sweating it out rather than taking it out on anyone else.
Exercise had always been cathartic, had helped ground him and after last night, he’d hightailed it down here first thing.
His battle plan had been scuttled.
By one beautiful woman who his body craved even if his head insisted take the next commission and bolt back to some godforsaken hellhole.
He’d been determined to get answers, to stay aloof. Instead, the moment he’d heard her reasoning, some of his latent anger had waned.
He understood.
Lori loved Adam that much; she hadn’t wanted to put their son through what she’d had to live with.
He’d seen it over the years, army brats being dragged from one war-torn country to another, never forming real friendships, loners, always being the odd one out at their new schools.
He’d never want that for his son.
And while he understood her fears of him not returning from the front, he’d had a right to know his son, would’ve protected him from the harsh truths of his job, could’ve been there for him as much as possible.
The way he saw it, he had two choices.
Hold onto bitter resentment and sabotage a potential cordial relationship with Lori or let it go for Adam’s sake and make up for lost time with the son he’d never known.
A memory of that searing kiss flashed across his mind and he punched the bag, a quick right-left combo, jabbing at it, how he’d like to attack his common sense — or lack of it.
First time he’d kissed her had been about proving a point but last night had been all about memories and bonding and passion. Passion, dormant yet blazing, too easily reawakened.
Sure, he wanted to have a relationship with Lori, but not
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