Chapter Two
As Flynn listened to the recording, he could envision the day, the evening, and the night as Gina described them. He sucked a breath as his free hand brushed across the front of his jeans, pressing lightly against the bulge of his erection. His hard cock throbbed as his mind’s eye showed him what could be between them beyond sex.
His heart clenched as he dragged in a long breath at her declaration of love.
And then there was only silence.
Though he heard her words, he could also feel the pain that had filled her tone and the tears she tried so hard to hide. But he knew her voice well enough and knew what talking out her fantasy had cost her.
He began to pace the house, subconsciously trying to outrun the truth in her words. He had not realized his actions had hurt her so deeply or for so long. Had it really been three years since their first, unique meeting?
Causing Gina pain was the last thing he had ever wanted to do. He had not given it much thought, but had assumed they were both content with their arrangement. Though he did have to admit that he wanted her more than he was able to be with her. With his work schedule as it was, he sometimes lost track of time and it would be weeks before he realized he had not talked to his sexy, spirited Gina in a while.
He had kept things between them, without telling anyone else the true nature of their relationship, to protect her. And himself, his conscience reminded him. Living with one woman in a totally platonic relationship and being with Gina in a completely non-platonic one kept things simple. Except things were anything but simple, as her dictation had just informed him.
Maybe it was time to make a few changes in what even he had to admit was his too busy, too full, life.
But what if Gina decided the changes came too little, too late? As she had said, it had been more than three years since their first meeting. Three years of talking, teasing, laughing, and the most adventurous sex, by phone, and in person, that he could ever have imagined.
To be able to go from hello to orgasm without doing much more than a few short strokes towards the end still amazed him. Talking to Gina was always a highlight of his day, whenever he had time for it.
Flynn forced himself to listen through her recording a second time. His body reacted again to the sound of her voice. The need to see her, hold her, and love on her until neither of them could do more than breathe, and snuggle closer to the other, rode him hard. But he held back running for his truck.
When she finished speaking this time, he realized two things.
First, she was the bravest person he knew for sharing these thoughts with him.
And second, she had to be the most generous person on Earth. In everything she said, she made no demands, set no time limit for him to take action, and did not even threaten to walk away if he did nothing. Instead, she did as she had been doing for most of the time they had been together. She stated her case, had her say, and then left the ball in his court to either make a play or turn and walk away.
But he knew she was thinking about what she had done. She was probably having second, third, or even fiftieth second thoughts about the wisdom of her actions.
Did she regret sharing her fantasy with him?
Did she really want him to open up his life and let her in?
And if he did, would she want to change him?
His ex-wife had wanted that, but he could not stand sitting around, watching the insanity that was on television these days. He preferred to keep moving and stay busy. Then more questions jumped into his brain.
Would they be able to meld their very different lifestyles?
Would she even be willing to try?
Suddenly, Flynn realized he was overthinking things instead of doing as he usually did—fly by the seat of his pants.
But for the first time in longer than he could remember, what a woman thought, what she did, how she might react, was important to him.
“Well, old man,” he said to himself aloud as he tucked the recorder into the front pocket of his jeans and headed to the garage, “what are you going to do about it?”
That question stopped him in his tracks in the middle of the kitchen.
What was he going to do about it?
****
Two hours earlier.
As soon as Flynn’s truck disappeared around the corner, Gina gave in to the fear that she had just made the biggest mistake of her life. Her recording would freak Flynn out, and he would be gone. She would never hear from him again. If she did, he would either ignore her completely, or act like she was a customer of his specialty furniture-building business and nothing more.
That was, after all, how he had treated her the few times they had crossed paths in public in the past. It had been especially hurtful when she had seen him with his roommate, a woman Gina was crazy jealous of even though she could never tell Flynn.
Or maybe she had by slipping her digital recorder into the pocket of his jacket when he had given her the good-bye hug she always demanded as he took his leave. She savored those hugs and their memories stayed with her long after the other reminders he had left on her body had faded.
Turning from the front window, she forced herself to walk into her office, sit at her desk, and try to work. She was behind on her work, but her thoughts stayed on Flynn. No matter what she tried, she could not focus on the story she was currently writing.
Finally, she gave up, closed that file, and opened a new, blank one. Sometimes it would help her creativity if she got all the extraneous thoughts out of her mind. Since Flynn now had her recorder, she would have to type them out of her head instead of talking them out.
An hour later, she closed the file without saving it. There was nothing in those pages that she wanted to keep.
Sadly, she had also come to no decision about what to do about Flynn either. Once again, she had placed all the power in his hands. All she could do was sit back and wait for his response.
“And that fucking sucks,” she muttered as she pushed from her chair and stalked into the kitchen.
At least she had gotten the words out of her brain, so maybe she could get back into the story. If she was going to catch up on her work, it was going to be a long night of writing, and she needed an infusion of caffeine.
Pulling a can of soda from the refrigerator, she returned to her office and forced herself to work. She knew she would not hear from Flynn anytime soon, if at all, so she might as well lose herself in a story that she could build a happy ending for, even if her own story did not.