(SEPTEMBER 29 – OCTOBER 1, 2015)
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Adrienne Thompson Writes
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Books and Warpaint
Sean Flynn is a man with an appetite for fine women. This key element happens to be his greatest downfall. Flynn has always been loved, even worshipped by women from all walks of life. He’s had his share of wealthy southern belles, princesses, a spoiled heiress, sensual intellectual types and most recently, a powerful professional diva. Though having very little in common with these women that crave this blue collar, tattooed Irishman, Flynn’s been able to secure their affections. In many ways, he is living a life that most men would sell their souls for. But don’t be fooled. Being desired by the best of women comes at a price, especially when these women are meant to be untouchable. Of all the men in the world, only Sean Flynn has been capable of setting them straight, and laying the pipe just right.
After consistently finding himself in trouble with the law, even having served time for lack of control, Flynn looks to make a change. But since he’s already set the stage for the wrong types of relations, how can he so easily walk away?
As Flynn continues down this self-destructive path, he finds solace in an unlikely savior, yet another woman. Judge Lauryn Lomax is thrust into his life. Though she’s attached, connected and indebted to career criminals, Lauryn refuses to give up on this man she barely knows.
Flynn has never relied on luck, in fact, it’s consistently played against his favor. But when the right woman comes along, one that is willing to brave hell for his sake even as her own life hangs in the balance, can he believe that all things are possible?
“What should I call you?” I ask as he takes a seat directly in front of my desk. I remove my robe. After placing it one side, I half sit-half lean against the edge of the desk. My gaze rests on his hands, mainly the way his fists flex while he draws his fingers inward and out.
“Under normal circumstances,” I begin, unsure of why I’m so compelled to proceed, yet needing to make sure he is and will always be okay. Though it’s a treat to have him come before my bench, it might not always be my bench and he certainly wouldn’t always be this lucky. “Under normal circumstances, you would call me Judge Lomax or Your Honor. For now however, I’d like to set aside all formalities. Call me Lauryn.”
I smirk when his eyebrows shoot up. And when his tongue trails out from between his lips, I stand up and walk off towards the window. With that move of his, I’m bound to straddle his lap and forget myself altogether.
“This is a dangerous game, Lauryn,” Flynn warns from out of left field. I face him, finding it necessary to secure several inches, maybe even feet between us. He’s still seated, but instead of sitting on the edge leans back into the chair. “Are you looking to step into the dark side? If so, that’s not me. But Lauryn, you appear to be innocent enough-“
Innocent? I almost want to laugh. Sure I’m capable of presenting an air of innocence, but that’s a whole other story. “I’m only looking to help you out, Mr-“
“Just Flynn, that’s all,” he scolds, then gives me permission to proceed with a nod.
“I’m only looking to help you get back on track, Flynn.” I pace amongst the sunlight from the window, then finally move to the shades, slowly sauntering closer to where he remains.
“Why Lauryn?” he squints, taking one leg, bending the knee and resting the ankle of his boots over the other side knee. He wreaks of arrogance, even in the simplistic gestures. Without actually asking, without any type of force, I feel a pull to do whatever it takes to set him straight. When he asks why, I honestly can’t give an answer, only that it’s a done deal.
How can I convince him that it’s just something I’m compelled to do? Other than the fact that he’s sparked areas in and throughout my body, I can’t come up with a feasible explanation. For someone that had flown through grade school like it was a kiddie race, and tackled undergrad and law school before their peers could blink, I am at a loss. Moreover, this isn’t a want. This is a need to do whatever it takes to help him. So instead of answering the question and breaking the silence, I reach around my desk for my card. When I return back around to face him, Flynn has finally gotten up from the chair. He’s within breathing distance, by breathing I mean to the point where we’re literally exchanging air directly.
Two inches…just two inches separate us.
Neither one of us move. For more than ten seconds, we exist not as judge and criminal, or Flynn and Lauryn. We’re man and woman. My neck is strained as I look up into his gorgeous face. His pupils examine me with a hint of curiosity; as for mine, I can only imagine. My heartbeat pulsates everywhere, and all at once. He’s large enough and wide enough to take me into his arms; while I’m presently weak enough to let him. I’m set to collapse at any moment..
“Are you okay?” Flynn asks, showing a gentler side.
And I consider playing the innocent, vulnerable damsel in distress. For a second I toy with the idea of having him carry me over to one of the sofas. Totally inappropriate. And then I get a vision of Dmitri. Oh yes, the man I’m supposed to marry. “I’m fine, Flynn. Here’s my card. Reach out on Friday, please.”
He takes the card, and leaves without another word.
I rush to the door, bracing my forehead against it. With palms pressed against my chest, I try to soothe the scorching of raw desire. I scold my thudding heart and try to refocus on the man I had already swore to love for life.