Reminding her of time lost.

She’d spent the last thirteen years of her life building a wall, honing her armor, and insulating herself from men exactly like her father.  Her mother’s pain, she swore, she would never endure. And yet, here she was, hopelessly hung up on a guy who took what she offered with no regard to her feelings.

Moist heat stung her eyes.  Swiping away a tear, Izzy snuggled into her pillow.  How had this happened?  Was she so desperate for—what? Love? Acceptance? Belonging? She didn’t understand herself, much less the reasons for what she felt right now. She just knew she wanted Flynn. She was a head case for sure.

There had been guys in college who would have jumped at the chance to be with her.  Good men who would have treated her like a queen.  A few she’d hung out with, to see if maybe she was missing out on something.  She wasn’t.  At least not with any of them.

From the moment she’d laid eyes on Flynn at the club, it was as if invisible hooks had sunk deep into her chest and reeled her in to him.  She’d never felt so alive.  So desired. So happy. What she felt was real.  That’s what hurt so much. It was real. To her.

Was she being fair to Flynn and herself?  They had been willing partners.  Good God, she had desperately wanted what he gave her.  Even now, as hurt as she was, she would not undo it.  It was amazing. It had spoiled her.  Flynn would be the benchmark by which she measured all men who came after him.

Just thinking about the way he touched her, warmed her from the inside out.  The only consolation she could take away from her time with Flynn was that as much as he fought his inner demons, it was clear to the woman in her that the man in him still wanted her.  At least physically. That wasn’t enough for her, though, not when she felt the way she felt about him.  There was no way she could separate the sex from what her heart wanted.  Even after he kicked her to the curb because his ego couldn’t handle what she had done, she still had feelings for him.  Was it just a crush because he’d taken her virginity?  No, there was more to it than that.  Even after he dropped her off last night, her yearning for him had deepened.

The heart wanted what the heart wanted, and it wanted all of Flynn Ryker.

Sighing heavily, Izzy opened her eyes and looked toward the window.  The streetlight shone through the slits of her blinds, the raindrops sparkling as shadows moved across the pane.

Was it fair of her to expect Flynn to be okay with what she would continue to do if she had to?  She’d told Andre no more lap dances.  That had gone in one ear and out the other, because he expected her to dance at Boris’s private party.

She would if it meant finding Alex.  How did she expect a man like Flynn to handle that?  He wouldn’t. He’d made that clear. Or maybe, just maybe that was his excuse. Charlie said men like Flynn didn’t know how to love.  That he would need the patience of someone who saw he had love to give and who would nurture that part of him until he saw it for himself.

He wanted her.  Had asked her to let him start over. It was her own fear of being rejected again that had pushed him away when he had reached out to her.  She had done the same thing to Alex, and look what happened.  Flynn was a once-in-a-lifetime guy. She wanted a chance with him.  Was she willing to take it?

Reaching for her phone, she stopped halfway.  He needed time to think and she needed to sleep on her revelation.  Not that she would change her mind, but to let it simmer.  And tomorrow put together a game plan.

Rolling over, she punched her pillow.  It was almost two a.m. and she hadn’t slept a wink since the previous night.  She needed to sleep. Reaching to the nightstand, she grabbed the windup clock and stuffed it between the mattress and box spring.  It had been driving her crazy.

Closing her eyes, she sighed and started to count backward from one hundred…

Parked in his SUV across the street, drinking coffee, Flynn watched the shadows move around Pink’s little house. When the bedroom light went out, he imagined her creamy naked body slipping between the cool sheets.  He wanted to be there.  To feel the soft warmth of her skin against his.  Stroke her silky hair, kiss her lush lips, and caress her bodacious breasts. He wanted the quiet time to hold her.  Fall asleep in her arms and wake up inside of her.

His dick swelled in his pants as he imagined her arching into him, her hungry lips parted, her pearly white teeth biting her bottom lip as she hissed in a long luxurious breath.

Jesus Christ, he could not remember wanting anything as badly as he wanted her.  Want collided with need.  She was as unique as a snowflake.  And as perfect.  He should march right into her house and demand she take a chance on him because he was willing to take a chance on her.

What if it didn’t work out?  He didn’t want to hurt her.  It had never occurred to him that she might be the one to walk away.  Feeling gut-punched at the thought, Flynn shook his head. He’d go insane if she walked out of his life for another man.  Just the thought of her with Mad Dog ate at him.

Give him a gun and turn him loose in a room full of bad guys with bigger guns and he had no fear.  Ask him to make a commitment to Pink and he ran for the hills.

The reel repeated itself in Flynn’s brain all night. When the sun rose over the little house, he stretched.  Jack was on his way. He was going to take the day shift.  Simon would relieve him around two, then Flynn would be back at nine.  Pink might not think she was in danger, but Flynn knew otherwise.  Whoever was behind the white van incident was behind the previous incidents.  They were persistent and they knew where she worked and where she lived.  What bothered Flynn the most about the incidents was that his gut told him they had nothing to do with Sorlov. They had begun last year before she knew the Surf’s Up club even existed. There was something else lurking behind the shadows…

Izzy woke to the rain.  For a long time she lay in bed listening to it, thinking how much more she would enjoy it if Flynn were lying beside her.  She smiled; or better yet, under her.  Stretching, she forced herself out of bed and into the bathroom.  Slogging her way to the kitchen she fixed what was left of the coffee.  As it brewed, she opened the fridge and scowled.  She needed to go to the store.  The provisions Flynn had brought were just about gone.  There was enough for a decent breakfast, but nothing more.

It was pouring outside.  If the weather let up some, she would walk to Casper’s, the little neighborhood market, a few blocks away.  They were organic certified and while a little costly, it was worth the splurge.

Sitting at the kitchen table, she sipped her coffee and booted up her laptop.  Flynn was prominent on her mind.  She’d dreamt of him. He was her first thought before she opened her eyes and the last one when she had closed them last night. She thought of him now.  Sitting at the table eating breakfast.  Smiling at her dumb jokes. Brushing her bangs from her face as he told her how much he loved touching her.

Her chest tightened. Did he, she wondered, have any idea what he did to her?  How he had made her feel?  As alive as he had made her feel, she felt empty now.  Her confidence last night in her ability to win Flynn’s heart with patience went by the wayside.  Who was she kidding? He didn’t need anyone, he had himself.

Izzy remembered the big Anatolian shepherd, Turk, her father had brought home to guard the house when she was eight years old.  Turk had the run of the property.  No one got past the gate.  He had been a handful, a dangerous animal, and her father had warned her to stay away from him. But Izzy was drawn to the big rough-and-tumble dog.  She was patient with Turk.  Eventually his loyalty to her rose above his loyalty to the rest of the family. The night she was kicked out, Turk sensed something was terribly wrong.  He’d fought his way out of the house to run after her and her mother.