Her mouth latches onto mine and we are now fully engaged in hard, hot, and wet. I spin her around and push her back into the door, and as I grind my dick against her, I can only think to myself,
Rowan gasps into my mouth, “I shouldn’t have done that. We should stop.”
I respond by moving my tongue hard against hers, and then I pull away, nipping at her lower lip. “I’ll stop if you want.”
“Yes,” she says, and my heart bottoms out. Then she says, “No... don’t stop,” and she kisses me harder, knocking our teeth against one another.
The minute she gives me the go ahead, I shift one hand. As I’m still gripping her bottom, it brings my middle finger in proximity to her thong. She feels the change in my position and moans. I shift again, and hook my finger in the bottom of her underwear, pulling it aside.
For a second, Rowan goes still and I think she has snapped her out of her lust-induced haze, but she moans low in her throat and rasps, “Not good, Flynn. Not good.”
Then Rowan pushes her hips downward and twists them to the side, bringing her slick core in direct contact with my finger. The heat is searing and I only stroke against her one time... because that’s all I have in me, before I push my finger deep inside of her. Her hips buck hard, lodging me even deeper, and a strangled gasp comes out of her mouth while her nails flex into my scalp. I silence it down with another kiss and push her harder into the wall.
My world is fracturing and every semblance of normalcy is flying out the window. I give one last, lingering thought to stopping this... because Rowan’s inhibitions are lowered because of the alcohol and I should protect her from this. I’m betting in the harsh light of day and completely sober, she wouldn’t want this.
I consider it... just briefly, and then I tell myself to piss off. I want her too much and I’ll worry about the consequences later. I’m inflamed with lust, and love, and it’s all tied up into one painful knot, but it’s going to unravel tonight.
I pull my finger out and add a second before plunging back in. She cries against my lips and it sounds sweet to me.
Pulling my face back, I look at her and her eyes are partially closed. When she realizes my lips aren’t against hers anymore, she opens her eyes. My fingers are pumping in and out of her slowly and her hips tilt against my hand with every thrust. We stay like that, for just a few moments, just watching each other as she rides my hand.
“Rowan,” I whisper, and her eyes focus more sharply on me, even as a little gasp of breath hitches out past her lips. “I want to make you come, and then I want to make you mine. Say you want it, too. Tell me you want this.”
I’m pleading for her to say the words that will ease my own guilt, because if she tells me point blank she wants me, I don’t have to worry so much that I may be taking advantage of the situation.
“I...” she starts to say, but a particularly deep push of my fingers cuts her words off. She grasps her lower lip in between her teeth and her eyes close as she moves against my hand.
“Say it,” I urge her, desperate for the words. “Say you want more than just a friendship with me.”
When I look back and analyze how things went to shit so quickly, I’ll pinpoint the word “friendship” as the pivotal moment that stalled my impending apocalyptic orgasm. The minute the words are out of my mouth, Rowan’s hips go absolutely still and the heat dies out of her eyes. Her eyebrows furrow inward and she slowly closes her eyes, lowering her forehead to my shoulder.
“We need to stop, Flynn,” she says softly.
I’m not willing to give in just yet so I move my fingers against her inner walls, curling them to hit that spot that I’ve seen splinter women apart before. She moans into my shoulder but then pushes back against me.
“Stop,” she says with more force, and I immediately stop, pulling my fingers out of her and holding her in place under her thighs for just a moment before I lower her to the floor.
It is only then that I notice my chest is heaving with exertion and Rowan has a fine sheen of sweat on her forehead as she pulls her skirt back down. I hadn’t realized how hot and heavy we were going until just now... how far things had gotten out of control and so fast.
My hands may not be on her anymore and my head is cleared a bit, but I’m not ready to give up. “Rowan... don’t pull away. Let it happen. You were right there with me. I know it.”
She looks up at me and there is a thin veil of tears in her eyes. My heart is breaking for her. “I was... right there with you. But I can’t. I know you’re tired of hearing that and I’m so sorry I led you on. I had too much to drink and was terribly wrong to do that. But I can’t risk the friendship.”
“You can, Rowan. You’re braver than this. If you just give it a chance, I know we will work. I can feel it. I want you to—”
“NO!” Rowan yells at me and I take a small step back from the venom in her voice. Her eyes flash hot and pissed for a second, but then it dies just as quickly. Her voice is softer when she says again. “No. Don’t ask me again, Flynn.”
My heart slices open at those words and I bleed pain all over. I know Rowan enough to know when she’s drawing a firm line in the sand and this is it. Still, I’m going to try one more time.
“Rowan... wait...” but she cuts me off by holding up her hand to me.
“Flynn... hear me out. It’s not going to happen. I’m not going to let it and I need you to let it go. In fact, you have got to move on from me. Find yourself someone deserving and make a new start. I’m here... as your friend. But
She gives me one last look and heads to her bedroom, Capone padding after her.
19
Dipping my spoon into the pot, I pull out a small bit of sauce and taste it. My stomach grumbles because I’m starving but I’m going to wait and boil the pasta when Flynn gets home from work. I haven’t seen him much because he’s picked up some overtime the last few weeks, so I’m excited for him to walk in that door.
I’ve missed him a lot.
Walking into the living room, I glance at the clock. He should be here any moment. I turn on the TV and after less than thirty seconds of flipping channels, I know that won’t keep my mind occupied. I pick up a magazine from the coffee table but as soon as I open it, I throw it back down in frustration.
My mind is whirring with excitement over seeing Flynn, but I’m also stressed as well because I have no clue where I stand with him. Every day, I feel crushing guilt over pushing him away. I’m mortified that my body reacted to him... almost viscerally, and my mind took over and stopped what I’m sure would have been a night of mind- blowing passion. I’m weighed down by the knowledge that I led Flynn on, my face turning red when I think about the way I pushed myself up and down on his fingers. I egged him on every bit of the way, and then I shut him down, officially making myself the world’s biggest prick tease.
When I closed myself in my room that night, I cried my eyes out because I knew I had hurt him. But I kept telling myself over and over again, it would be okay. We’d wake up the next day and things would be just the way they were. We could take Capone for a walk and stop at a bakery for breakfast. We could laugh at silly things and compare our knowledge of famous movie lines. We would be the Rowan and Flynn of old... the best of buddies.
Except, that isn’t what happened. While Flynn hasn’t been anything but his usual nice and charming self when he’s around me, he offers me nothing more than that. It’s like he’s making himself keep a respectful distance from me, because... yes, that’s what I told him to do.
And yes... it hurts, and I have no right to be hurt, and yet I hurt all the same. My head is so fucked up over this, and when push comes to shove, I’m not sure I made the right decision. What if I missed out on the opportunity of a lifetime? Sure, that’s a possibility, right? Because, otherwise, why am I constantly yearning for all things Flynn Caldwell?
For example, not two weeks ago, I was content with our friendship. Every little thing we learned about each
