Flynn Marcus Hunter

Flynn peered in to the bedroom to make sure Remy hadn't expired in a huge ball of sweat as he listened to the ringing on the other end of the phone. "Pick up, pick up, pick up," he murmured, heading a little back up the hall so he could maybe call Remy a shit without being over heard. The Cajun was busy hugging the bucket anyway, but just to be on the safe side. "Jeez, Maddy, where the hell are you?" he said as the monotone rings continued.

Flynn woke up slowly and was surprised to find Remy still asleep beside him. Flynn had been spooned up behind the Cajun, who had Flynn's arm hugged snugly against his bare stomach. Flynn stifled a yawn and raised up a little so he could see Remy's face. He was out to it; too much sun most likely. His cheeks and nose were burnt to a cute redness, all now with a shiny glow. Flynn smirked, listening to the heavy breathing that wasn't quite snoring coming from their third part. He extricated his arm from Remy's loose grip and carefully slid off the bed, trying not to disrupt the mattress too much.

A soft sea breeze was floating in the open open bungalow doors and Flynn padded out into the main area of the generous accommodation to find Maddy. She wasn't in immediate sight, so he continued on to the balcony, finding her in one of the sunlounges. He yawned, rubbing his face. "Hey," he said huskily, voice still thick from sleep. "How come you didn't nap with us?"

Flynn reluctantly dragged himself out of his well-messed up bed and stood with a small stretch. He had that heady satiated feel that always came following a really good fuck. And boy had it been a really good one.

He smiled to himself as he shuffled out into the living room, still naked and having a satisfying scratch of his nether regions. He jumped and nearly cried out when his front door opened and the visitor caught him mid-scratch and mid-yawn.