Page 18 of Fools Rush Flynn

I pull his t-shirt off, then run my hands over the muscular ridges of his torso. He’s got scars and a couple of tattoos, but mostly it’s just skin covered sinew with a dark smattering of hair. I want to touch him everywhere.

“You said you took the edge off already,” I say as he continues to trail wet, open-mouthed kisses along my collarbone.

He hums in response. Then his hands are lifting my shirt, dragging it up and off my body. His dark eyes latch onto my bra-covered boobs. It’s a pretty bra as far as work-horse bras go. When you have boobs the size of mine, you’ve gotta go with function over aesthetic. Still, the cream-colored silk and lace do their job, holding my big girls in place, while also being nice to look at.

“Temple,” he groans my name, then leans forward and nips at the rise of my left breast. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to see these.” His palms come up and cup me, weighing, squeezing.

I reach behind me to unhook it—three prongs for this utilitarian brazier. Then I let the cups loosen and the straps slide down my shoulders.

“What were you thinking about earlier? When you touched yourself?” I ask.

He stands to his full height and lifts his gaze from my boobs to my face. “Truthfully?”

I wince. “Yes.” I steel myself, waiting for him to admit he was fantasizing about another woman.

“Eating your kitty.”

I gasp.

“It’s all I’ve been able to think about since I found your vibrator. Me licking and sucking at your sweetness until you come all over my face.”

I wheeze. Yep, I’m making all the sexy noises, and he’s barely touched me.

“You going to let me do that, wife? Can I eat your pussy until you’re screaming my name?”

“That feels like a trick question,” I manage to say. “I mean, yes, please.”

His dark chuckle scatters goosebumps all over my body. My nipples tighten to painful tips.

His thumbs brush over them. “I want to fuck these too. But not now. We’ll save that for later.” He steps away from me then, pulling off his jeans and kicking them to the side. He’s left in a pair of tight boxer briefs, R2D2 style. The bulge is obscene, it’s so large.

“Nerdy boxers,” I say.

He hums again. “Take off your clothes, Temple.” He sits on the floor, leaning his back against the foot of the bed.

I swallow thickly but do as he says. I remove each piece knowing that there’s no going back for me after this. I’m giving him every part of me, and I know there will never be another man for me. I feign confidence I don’t exactly feel, planting my fists on my hips and looking at his face.

I’ve got bumps and rolls and dimples and stretch marks, and everything else society tells me isn’t sexually attractive. But I can see the lust on my husband’s face. He wants me. Maybe not even in spite of my flaws, but because of them. He’s always told me I’m perfect just the way I am.

My body isn’t perfect, but it’s strong and healthy and I’m going to give it all to Flynn Harrington.

chapter

twelve

Flynn

“You’re a fucking goddess,” I tell her when she’s standing bare in front of me. “Come here, I think this will put me at the perfect height.”

She’s a little hesitant with her movement forward, but soon she’s standing close enough I can smell her arousal. She’s not shaved bare, but the dark patch of hair on her mound is trimmed. It wouldn’t have mattered to me one way or another, because this is my Temple.

“Put one foot on the bed behind me. I want you opened to me.”

She puts her left leg up, which opens her pussy right at my face.

“Perfect,” I breathe. “Fuck, you smell good, Angel.”

Her fingertips settle on top of my head while I wrap my arms around her body and get my first taste. She’s salty and sweet and my dick thumps in my boxers.