He knew it â or, well, he should have, from the second her head cuddled up to his shoulder. Then again, for all that he seemed to have some sort of sixth sense when it came to Meg, he was practically putty in her hands, all too easily distracted whenever she wanted him to be. He dared anyone not to be when lips like hers were ghosting over his neck, tantalizingly slow, teasing nearly every thought of furniture assembly out of his mind. Damn it. â This is low, Floros, â Flynn muttered, feigning incredulity despite the fact they both knew heâd always give in to her. The humor in his voice was clear as day, his lips twitching up into a traitorous smile. â Even for you. Itâs also my go-to move â seduce and destroy. Youâre putting my own moves on me now? Câmon, what is that? Has IKEA really driven you to these ends? â By the end he was grinning crookedly, telling of his amusement as he shifted away from the pieces of chair to his girlfriend, arms curling firmly around her waist. Heâd give in, he would â but first heâd have a little fun with it. After all, that was why she stuck around, wasnât it? Couldnât get enough of his roguish charm â or something. Probably.
A calloused hand rose from her waist to settle against her neck, thumb stroking along her jawline. â But you know ⌠while weâre on the topic of priorities, â Flynn started, nudging closer into her space, nose bumping against hers playfully. His eyes flickered shut for a moment, the familiar scent of her perfume filling his senses; it had less to do with any plan, and more to do with that sixth sense heâd never been able to shake. He always felt like he could take anything on like this, eyes closed, Meg in his arms. There was something calming and invigorating about being the only two people in the world for a moment, something he resolved not to fuck up again. â We gotta do something about that mouth of yours, â He continued lowly, stepping closer to her as if there was any way he could get any closer than he already was, urging her backwards so he could settle her back against the wall. He ducked his head then, his own mouth trailing soft kisses along her jawline and down the column of her neck, purposely missing her lips each time and dipping lower than she had until he was dropping to his kneesâŚ
Now this was the fun part.
Reaching behind him, he settled back onto his heels and managed to grab the previously discarded instructions, offering it up to her from down below. The grin on his face was shameless â so much so he was practically beaming â completely and utterly pleased with himself for his cleverness. â How about we get it to learn German, huh? Come on, get down here, no dilly-dallying. â
She couldnât help the smile that crept onto her lips at his words, nor could she help the way that it made her feel: an over confidence accompanied by a flutter of nerves in her stomach - a slight giddiness. It was like he managed to make her feel desirable and in control, yet simultaneously on edge, waiting for the moment heâd wrest the control from her hands, that small second where heâd throw her for a loop. It sounded dumb, crazy even, but Meg just couldnât get enough. That was why sheâd come back yeah? Or at least part of it. Meg pressed another kiss to his neck, just below his jawline, teeth gently scraping against the skin, teasing.  âWho says youâre the only one who can use that as a move? I donât think I saw any copyrights on it....â Meg smirked, his arms curling around her waist, feeling Flynn turn from the project at hand, now focused on her. âBesides, would you rather if I stopped?â Her eyes flickered up to meet his, the brunette pulling back, only to have his arms hold her closer.Â
His hand came up to her cheek, calloused thumb smoothing over her jaw. Meg took a deep breath, Flynnâs nose bumping hers as he moved closer, eyes fluttering closed as she took in his scent - musky cologne that hadnât been freshened in a day, faint traces of deodorant, clean and new, Irish Springs soap beneath his fingernails, the faint trace of pine. It smelled like home. This was where Meg felt the safest, his arms holding her close, his forehead against herâs, his warmth radiating into her skin. It wasnât on her bike, or in the cocoon of her leather jacket, nor even surrounded by her three large dogs, no - it was here with Flynn where she knew nothing could reach her, not even Hale. She barely heard him, Flynnâs lips moving to her jaw and her neck, his lips warm and wet, taking advantage of her distracted mind to press her against the wall. Flynn continued his trail of kisses, dipping lower and lower, Megâs mind unable to focus on anything but him and that slow teasing procession of kisses - there was the moment when it flipped. Shit.
At his next remark, her eyes flew open, her trance broken. He was grinning up at her, his smile wide and mischievous, knowing exactly how much of a shit he was being right now. She glared at him, her hand swiping the instruction manual from his, tossing it across the room. God, he was shameless. âI absolutely hate you,â she growled, frowning at him, only the tiniest of smiles giving her away.Â