Reclaiming the Sand
Page 83

I grabbed one of his hands and covered it with mine. I laced my fingers through his, pressing my palm into the back of his hand.
Flynn’s entire body was taut. I noticed the tick in his jaw as he gnawed at his bottom lip.
I rubbed his hand with my thumb. Slow, purposeful movements repeated over and over again. I forced my own tension to subside. I relaxed my shoulders and made my entire body loosen up. Loose as a goose, Ellie, I said to myself.
“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, Flynn. I’m not going to force you. I won’t steal your virtue, I promise,” I teased, trying to lighten the heavy mood, though I knew my efforts at humor would be lost on him.
Flynn’s body shook with fine tremors and I was beginning to think this trip was a bad idea. He wasn’t ready. Hell, I wasn’t sure I was ready. We were two f**ked up people walking around blind, hoping we wouldn’t bump into shit.
There were never two people more ill suited for a relationship than us. We were all wrong. We didn’t have a chance.
And that made me want to fight for it even harder.
Being with Flynn had unleashed the gladiator inside me. Long gone was the girl who would sit idly by and accept her fate. The old Ellie had died the day Flynn had walked into JAC’s.
Flynn had come back into my life at the exact moment I needed him to. I had been on the cusp of something monumental. I could have gone either way. I could move forward, or I could have stayed stuck.
He motivated me to move forward. And I would do right by him.
By us.
How had this man that I had blamed so long for all the bad in my life become something integral? Something essential?
We both wanted to leave our pasts. We had carried on with our lives hoping the pain was over.
But the pain had also brought me him.
And I loved the pain.
I’d never let it go.
“We can just be here…together,” I said quietly, lightly squeezing our joined hands.
Flynn’s fingers were limp beneath mine and in slow increments, he began to sag. He let out a long, noisy breath and shook his shaggy hair out of his face.
“I want to, Ellie. I want to touch you. I want to feel you. I want to know what it’s like to be naked with you,” he said simply, speaking in his short, halting way.
I swallowed thickly. “Okay,” I squeaked out. And that buzzing in my body that I had drowned out in my ice cold shower, blazed to life again.
Flynn lifted his head and looked at me. And like every time I was rewarded with a glimpse of his beautiful, green eyes, my heart stopped.
“Can I touch you?” he asked. My eyes widened marginally.
He never asked me that. I felt our roles suddenly reversing. It was unnerving but exciting.
I nodded, stilling as he lifted his hand and slowly, carefully placed his fingers on the side of my neck. I tried not to squirm.
He stared at my face, as though to make sure he was doing was okay. I didn’t move. I bit down on my lip as his palm pressed into my skin, his fingers curling up into the heavy layers of my hair.
“I like your hair when it’s normal. I hated all the colors,” he said. I smiled, knowing all too well how much he hated it when I used to dye it in high school.
“Keep it like this,” he demanded, sounding almost angry.
He pulled his other hand out from underneath mine and ran a finger along the seam of my lips. I wanted to close my eyes; the light brushes of his fingers almost my undoing.
But I couldn’t stop watching him as he explored my skin. So gently. And with such heart melting resolve.
“I won’t change it, I promise,” I told him.
Flynn’s beautiful face relaxed and he smiled and it lit up the room.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said firmly, as though I would argue with him. How could I argue with him when he said it with absolute conviction?
And then his mouth was on mine and I had barely any time to register what was happening before he pulled away again, just like he had done on the beach. He was panting, his cheeks red. He dropped his hands from the side of my neck and looked down into his lap again.
What the hell had just happened?
“It’s okay,” I told him. Kissing Flynn was a unique experience and no two kisses were ever the same.
The one he had just planted on my mouth was bruising and harsh and extremely conflicted.
Flynn shook his head and he started to rub his hands again. This time I grabbed ahold of them without waiting for permission. I brought his fingers up to my mouth and kissed them lightly.
His hands trembled beneath my lips.
“It’s okay,” I told him again.
He nodded and I put his palms to my face. With his head still bent low, he cupped my cheeks.
“It’s not okay. I want to touch you. It just feels…strange,” he said, frowning.
“We can take it slow. We don’t have to do this right now. We have all the time in the world to be together, Flynn. I’m not going anywhere.” I felt it important to stress that. I wasn’t going anywhere. Not now.
Flynn pushed his hair back from his face and looked into my eyes again, as though he were forcing himself to meet my gaze head on.
“I’ve never wanted to have sex before. I’ve never wanted to touch anyone. I want to touch you, Ellie. I want you to touch me. You just have to let me get used to this,” he said, fidgeting.
I laughed and Flynn watched my mouth, his own lips turning up in a smile.
“I’m funny?” he asked.
I covered my face with my hands and tried to get myself under control. Taking a deep breath, I shook my head.