The Pleasures of Summer Page 10

  He stilled.

  ‘Summer, are you –’

  ‘I’m fine. Don’t stop.’

  She clung to him as he took her. Each hard thrust, every ragged breath, shattered something deep inside her and freed her from the past. There was nothing but Flynn and her and their overpowering need. Bright arcs of fire streaked through her body. Flynn’s insistent pounding never faltered. When the first waves of pleasure hit, she cried out his name.

  With a groan, he thrust again and followed her into ecstasy.

  Long moments of gasping shudders followed. Summer clung to him like a limpet, weathering the storm. He found her mouth and kissed her gently. She returned his gesture of affection with tenderness. His limp cock slid from her and he eased her slowly to the ground.

  She was suddenly shy of him. Flynn had taken her like that, naked against the wall, while he was still almost fully clothed.

  He dropped a kiss on her forehead. ‘The bedroom’s through there. I just need to make a phone call.’

  Conscious of his eyes on her, Summer walked slowly to the bedroom wearing nothing but a pair of heels. She closed the door behind her and kicked them off. Oh my god, she had done it. Summer hurried to the en-suite on trembling legs. A wild woman stared back at her from the mirror. She had a serious case of bed-head hair. Her mouth was swollen from his kisses and her neck and breasts were marked from the stubble on his chin.

  She could still feel the unfamiliar ache between her thighs. Sex with Adam had never been like that. In fact, she had never had sex like that. Flynn made every lover she had slept with seem like a boy. The way that he had touched her. The rough command in his voice that made her want to obey him without question.

  He was so much more masculine than any of the men at the club. Even Robert. How could she have not known? Stupid stupid Summer. She had gone to Noir looking for a Dom and she’d had one living at her house all along. Summer heard the bedroom door opening and the sound of whistling as Flynn undressed and hung up his clothes.

  Clothes. She had no clothes. She would have to walk in there naked and get into bed with him. The memory of his quiet deliberation as he cut the dress from her, made her shiver. Seeing Flynn naked was a treat she was looking forward to, but how was she going to walk out there and be naked with him?

  ‘You’ve just had sex with the guy,’ she told her reflection. ‘It’s a bit late being nervous now.’ She flushed the loo and washed her hands. Summer took a deep breath before opening the door.

  Flynn was lying naked in the centre of the bed, the very picture of masculine indolence. His legs were long, the muscles of his calves and thighs well defined. A light dusting of hair trailed down his chest to his groin. His abs were as sharp as the ridges left on a sandy beach when the tide went out. A small, but livid, scar marred the portrait of masculine perfection. Summer found it as sexy as hell. She had an uncontrollable urge to kiss it.

  She watched Flynn’s nostrils flare as if he was scenting her, but he didn’t move, he simply waited for her to come to him. His hooded expression gave her little confidence. She had never felt so naked.

  ‘Do you like what you see?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes.’ Her voice sounded throaty to her ears.

  ‘Good girl,’ he praised her. ‘Never lie to me, or I will know and there will be consequences.’ There was no anger in his words, just a quiet confidence that she would obey him.

  She swallowed, trying to stop herself from replying, ‘Yes, Sir.’

  ‘Now, come here.’ He patted the bed beside him. ‘I want to see you.’

  She sat on the edge of the bed and waited nervously. Flynn reached out his hand and cupped her breast. Her nipples peaked into hard points almost immediately.

  ‘Responsive wee thing, aren’t you?’ Flynn trailed a finger between her breasts and down along her abdomen. ‘Open for me.’

  She blushed as she parted her thighs. She had never felt so exposed. He traced a slow tortuous finger around her clit and she almost came on the spot. He plunged one finger inside her and she cried out when he touched one deliciously sensitive spot and then trembled when he withdrew it.

  He held her gaze as he licked it clean. ‘Mmmmm, hot and sweet and so very wet. Now, lie down, Summer. I’m going to take care of you.’

  She lay down.

  ‘Put your arms over your head and grip the headboard. You are not to move your hands or I will stop immediately. Is that clear?’

  She nodded, and gripped the headboard. He placed a pillow beneath her hips and Summer closed her eyes. What had she let herself in for?

  ‘Ah ah, no. Eyes open. I want you to watch.’

  The heat in his gaze made her shiver, but not as much as the feel of his touch. He pumped his finger slowly inside her; the exquisite torture made her bite down on her lip. She clenched her inner muscles seeking more pressure and received a sharp tap on her thigh.

  ‘Naughty,’ he said. ‘Not yet.’

  He added a second finger and then gently made a ‘come here’ movement, curling his fingers inside her.

  ‘Oh god,’ she cried out. ‘That’s … that’s …’

  ‘Your G-spot,’ he said with a smug expression on his face. ‘Like it?’

  ‘Oh. Oh.’ A warm feeling built inside her as he continued his sensual massage. Flynn pressed down lightly on her lower stomach and the sensation of pressure seemed to increase. His fingers moved faster, ramping up the intensity. Her breath came in short, panting gasps and she gripped the headboard tighter as the first wave of a massive orgasm shot through her. This wasn’t like before; it went on and on, so intense that she felt that she was going to pass out. She couldn’t control her wails. They could probably hear her in the next apartment.

  As the wave ebbed away, Flynn turned his attention to her clit, rubbing the already tender nub until she was begging him to stop. ‘Don’t. Please. I’m too sensitive.’

  Flynn ignored her. With impossible speed another orgasm built into a sensory overload that she couldn’t control. Mindless with pleasure, she screamed out his name as her body wracked with the aftershocks of pleasure. There wasn’t an inch of her that didn’t tremble. Still, she clung to the headboard. The indentations of her nails would leave a permanent scar there.

  ‘You’re the one who wanted an erotic adventure tonight. What’s the matter? Is it too much for you?’ Flynn asked with the barest hint of sympathy. He was enjoying this far too much.

  ‘Bastard,’ she gasped out. Flynn was going to torture her all night. Death by orgasm. ‘I hope you have a hard-on for a week.’

  ‘I suggest that you think about the consequences of that remark. I can always guard you in bed.’ The devilish glint in his eyes suggested he was only half joking. After a month in bed with Flynn she wouldn’t be able to walk. She would be a helpless sex-crazed zombie.

  ‘I think one more, before I let you sleep.’

  ‘No.’ She clenched her thighs together. Her poor tortured flesh couldn’t take any more pleasure.

  ‘Open.’ The slap of his hand against her thigh made her jump.

  Flynn would brook no disobedience. She parted her legs and he settled between them. The first lick made her arch off the bed. Summer clenched her eyes shut and writhed against him, but he held her thighs apart while he took his time, tasting her with long slow licks while she begged him to stop. His mouth fastened over her sensitized flesh and she cried out when he took the tender bud between his teeth and bit lightly.

  Starlight exploded behind her eyelids and she came again, helpless against the pulses of sensation that surged through her. She couldn’t control the throaty screams of pleasure that came from her mouth. Even the sensation of his breath against her skin was too much. It was long minutes before the last shudder stopped.

  ‘Poor baby,’ Flynn murmured.

  She felt his kiss on her forehead and the sensation of a cool sheet being draped over her skin. She couldn’t have moved, even if the building went on fire.

  Summer woke during t
he night and watched the rise and fall of Flynn’s chest. This wasn’t like a fantasy from one of her erotic novels – where the heroine went home after a fantastic sex-filled night at a club. Flynn was beautiful and it would be so easy to fall for him.

  Her body still burned from his touch. She had never had so many orgasms in one night. If she let this continue, she would be his slave by the end of the month. His sex slave. Flynn wouldn’t be content to let this be a romantic fling, he would dominate the hell out of her and then he would be gone. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t risk her heart again. Tomorrow morning, she would have to pretend that this night meant nothing to her.

  The old Summer was coming back and Flynn Grant better watch out.

  10

  Flynn woke up, fully alert as always. After more than ten years in the Rangers, he knew he would never master the art of the slow start. But the warm body cuddled at his side was a great incentive to stay in bed.

  He smiled. He had no idea that Summer O’Sullivan was such a cracker. She had a fire that she somehow managed to keep well hidden, but now that he knew about it, he’d make sure she made the most of it.

  Morning sunlight filtered in through the louvred shutters, illuminating Summer’s skin with light and shadow. The straight lines of the shadows against the roundness of her hips and waist was an erotic contrast. Her newly-brown hair gleamed, even as it hid most of her face. He allowed his fingers to comb through the soft strands, enjoying the feel of it curling with a life of its own.

  His morning hard-on twitched, eager for a replay of the night before, but he remembered ruefully that he had used his last condom. Ah well, there were other ways to deal with that particular problem. He stroked Summer’s back, marvelling at the smoothness of her skin. She really was amazing.

  Summer moaned in protest at being woken, even as she arched into his touch like a cat. Sensual little creature. Flynn grinned. He was looking forward to exploring every inch of her curvy wee body again.

  Who’d have guessed she was a snuggler? He usually didn’t like clingy women, but in this case, he reckoned he could make good use of it. If she wanted to cuddle up to him, he was all for it. It would make his job so much easier if she wanted to stay with him instead of constantly trying to run away. And the fringe benefits would be stunning. Despite himself, he stroked her skin, his fingers caressing the side of her breast.

  ‘Go ’way. It’s not morning yet,’ she muttered, even as she cuddled in closer, burying her face against his neck. He shuddered as the tip of her tongue flicked out, tasting the skin of his collarbone. God, she would kill him.

  ‘You’re salty,’ she complained, then opened her eyes.

  Seeing her expression of sleepy satisfaction turn to horror would have been entertaining in other circumstances, but not when it was directed at him.

  ‘You!’

  ‘Me,’ he agreed. ‘Who were you expecting? Or do you not keep track?’

  She dragged the sheet from around her waist and hauled it up to her neck. ‘I didn’t … We didn’t –’ She floundered to a stop.

  ‘Oh yes, we did. I did and you did. Both of us did.’ Flynn couldn’t conceal a sardonic smile at her horrified reaction. ‘You were begging me to keep doing it. To strip you naked and –’

  ‘Stop! I didn’t mean –’ She took a breath and composed herself. ‘If you were a gentleman, you wouldn’t mention it.’

  ‘Would a gentleman mention that he could see your gorgeous arse in all its glory?’ he asked.

  She whirled, eyes rounding as she noticed that the ornate mirror on the wall reflected her entire back view to Flynn’s observant eyes.

  ‘You, you, you –’ Lost for words, she wrapped the entire sheet around herself and stalked off to the bathroom. Moments later, Flynn heard the sound of a bath running.

  By the time she emerged, wrapped in a fluffy bathrobe, Flynn had showered in the small guest bathroom, dressed, had his breakfast and was on his third cup of coffee. He poured her one and passed it over to her. ‘Would you like eggs or yoghurt for breakfast? We need to eat and be on the road soon.’

  Summer glared at him. ‘I am not going anywhere.’

  He had been about to take another mouthful of coffee but stopped. ‘Oh, you like it here?’

  ‘I have nothing to wear.’ She waved a hand over her white bathrobe. ‘It’s this or my trench coat.’

  He grinned. ‘I’m easy with whatever you choose.’ The thought of the body under that robe brought his cock to full attention. Fortunately the table hid it, so he could continue to pretend to be a gentleman.

  She looked at him with loathing. ‘I’m not leaving this apartment until I have proper clothes.’

  He grimaced, but could see her point. A ride on his motorbike would be a bit draughty wearing only a trench coat. ‘Fair enough. What size are you? I’ll go out and buy you a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.’ After all, he had been the one who cut off her latex number.

  ‘Are you mad?’ She glowered at him. ‘I’m not letting you pick out anything for me. God knows what you’d come back with. Probably something slutty with a collar and leash.’

  ‘Something slutty with a collar and leash looked damn good on you,’ he said, but didn’t object when she pulled out her phone and rang Harrods.

  An hour later, he wasn’t smiling. The apartment was awash with clothes. Summer and a tall stylish woman were arguing about cut and colour. Flynn fumed silently. What sort of woman had her own personal shopper in Harrods? And seemed unable to get dressed without trying on six different versions of everything first.

  ‘These ones bind at the crotch,’ Summer insisted, holding up a pair of ridiculously expensive jeans. ‘I’ll be raw by the time I get off the bike.’

  Flynn couldn’t understand what was wrong with a pair of Levi’s.

  ‘But they are so gorgeous on you. They do amazing things to your bum,’ the other woman said as she stood back to admire yet another pair.

  ‘Her bum is amazing naked. Now buy a pair and we’ll go.’ Both women glared at him, though there was a trace of colour in Summer’s cheeks. Then they turned their backs and went back to the fascinating subject of fabric, cut and stitching.

  For fuck’s sake, how could an intelligent woman like Summer waste her brains on this kind of stuff? He didn’t blame the woman from Harrods, she was only doing her job, but they were acting as if they didn’t have a brain cell between them.

  Ten minutes later, he ran out of patience. ‘Okay, Princess. It’s time to go.’

  ‘Did I just hear you call me Princess?’ Summer’s voice dripped ice.

  ‘You did. Or to give you the full title, Princess Precious Poodle.’ She gasped, and he went on. ‘This is ridiculous. Pick a pair of jeans and a top and we’re going. Or you can go naked on the back of the bike. See if I care.’

  ‘Naked?’ She looked around, as if she was seriously searching for something to throw at him. Then, remembering the personal shopper, she contented herself with a glare that could strip paint off a wall. ‘I need a word with you, alone.’

  Hugging the bathrobe around her, she marched to the bedroom and closed the door behind them. ‘May I remind you that this is all your fault? You interfered so that I had to sneak out without a change of clothes. You turned up at the club and spoilt my fun. You put a bloody collar on me.’

  She was working herself up into a fine rage now. ‘You made me sit at your feet, almost screwed me in the street, and then cut my dress off. And then you fell asleep, you big Scottish …’

  ‘Half Scottish,’ he said mildly, and was rewarded by the sight of Summer practically frothing at the mouth. ‘And let’s not forget the part played by your charming friends.’

  ‘Oh! You … !’ She was practically incoherent. ‘And for what? I don’t need you, and I don’t need a bodyguard.’ She spaced out the last few words and prodded him in the chest to get her point across. He appreciated the view of her flashing eyes, and the glimpse down her robe that showed her enticing cleavage
before she left the room, slamming the door behind her.

  If she wasn’t such a bad-tempered shrew, Summer O’Sullivan would be a very tempting package.

  By the time they were heading back to Hampstead, it was almost noon, and Summer was finally dressed. She was also so pissed at him that she refused to speak, and tried to hold herself upright on the back of the bike to avoid touching him. Flynn found he missed the contact.

  The house was strangely silent. Natasha and Maya came running as soon as they pulled up outside the front door, with Mike and Gavin following after.

  ‘Thank god you’re safe,’ Maya sobbed. ‘I was so sure you were dead.’

  Flynn was instantly alert. He picked out the most controlled person in the crowd and addressed him. ‘Malcolm, what’s wrong?’

  Even the butler appeared rattled. He was his usual stately self, but his voice shook slightly as he said, ‘We found something in Miss O’Sullivan’s room this morning. I wanted to call the police but knowing Mr O’Sullivan’s aversion to publicity, I thought I would ask you first.’

  He led them upstairs to Summer’s room. It looked almost the same as when she had left it, with clothes tossed on the floor, the curtains drawn and a life-like blonde figure in the bed. The difference was that the body in the bed now had a knife in it. The knife, a Sabatier if Flynn was any judge, was sticking into where, had it been a real person, the heart would have been.

  Summer moaned in distress. Flynn turned to her. She had turned white, but as he watched, the shutters went down, shielding her emotions. Just how much was she hiding? Malcolm cleared his throat.

  ‘There’s more, sir.’ He led them into Summer’s bathroom. Scrawled across the mirror in bright red lipstick were the words, ‘DIE BITCH!’

  ‘Bugger. That was my last tube of Vamp.’

  ‘How can you think about lipstick at a time like this?’ Maya wailed. ‘Someone tried to kill you.’

  ‘Nonsense. It’s just a silly joke,’ Summer said, but Flynn noticed her hands were shaking slightly as she picked up the now empty tube. ‘I’m just annoyed they used it all up.’