The Pleasures of Summer (20 page)

‘You can make your own arrangements for where you sleep. I’m staying here,’ she informed him.

As soon as he was in bed, she was out of here.

Flynn was determined to ruin her sleep. He hauled a box of tools through the back door and mounted the rickety ladder. Summer couldn’t resist a peek at his ass. Well, sauce for the goose and all that, and it was as fine an example as she had seen in a long while. She hadn’t really gotten a look at it the night that they …

She nibbled her lip. Flynn had given her exactly what she had wanted. A quick fuck; an uncomplicated knee trembler in an anonymous executive apartment and afterwards it had been hot. Really hot.

It was a pity that he was determined to ruin her life. Well, Flynn could join the queue. In the end all men were like that. She closed her eyes again, trying to ignore the uneven floor beneath her back. She could do it. In a couple of hours she would be on the road to the nearest five-star hotel.

Bang
. She shot up to a sitting position.

Bang. Bang.
The noise came again. Flynn’s head appeared over the edge of the platform. ‘Sorry about that. I’m afraid that it’s going to be a bit noisy for a while.’

Noisy. The insistent thudding continued, until it was banging inside her head. The sound of metal being dragged across a wooden floor made her wince. Flynn was doing this on purpose. More banging. She rolled over. The floor was definitely getting lumpier. How the hell was she going to last for hours lying on this?

Flynn practically slid down the ladder. ‘Getting your head down?’

She scrunched her eyes shut, ignoring him as he went outside.

After a few minutes, he tramped through the door
again. The light was beginning to fade, but there was no disguising what he was carrying. A rolled up quilt, and more than one of them. Her back ached in protest on the hard floor. She could be upstairs, on a bed, with a real quilt.

With him. Sharing a bed with Flynn.

Not a bloody chance. She wouldn’t give in just because he had a mattress. She was made of sterner stuff than that. Wasn’t she? Besides, how could she escape if she was up there? More climbing up and down the ladder, then he disappeared again, carrying a small wash bag. ‘I hope you fall into the nettle patch,’ she muttered under her breath.

He returned a short while later and Summer caught the faint scent of soap and shaving balm. ‘I’m going to bed,’ he announced. ‘You’re a braver woman than I gave you credit for, sleeping on the floor.’

What? He was just trying to spook her.

‘I mean with all the mice down here.’

‘Mice?’ She shot up like a rocket. ‘Mice?’ God, she hated them. With their little twitchy noses, little pink feet and long tails.

‘Aye, I haven’t been here for months, and the little buggers get everywhere,’ he said as he mounted the ladder. ‘Still, they don’t bite or anything, but they might nibble at your hair. Just ignore them.’

Ignore them. He expected her to lie here while rodents ate her? A rustle in the fuel basket beside her made her decision. ‘It’s not terribly comfortable here. Maybe I could bunk up there with you.’

She thought she heard a snort. Bloody-minded Scot. Rolling up her sleeping bag, she followed him up the steps
and into the loft. The bed was much bigger than she expected. There was barely enough room to walk around it. There was certainly no room to lay a sleeping bag on the floor. Besides, the bed looked comfy, padded and not at all floor-like. A bare-chested Flynn was already there. His hazel eyes were narrowed, as if he was sizing her up and coming to a decision.

‘I’m not going to attack you. I should point out that what happened before was your idea. The bodyguard does not have sex with the principal.’ His expression was serious and Summer had no doubt that he believed what he said. Flynn was determined that their encounter wouldn’t be repeated.

‘Are you sure?’ Her voice sounded throaty to her own ears.

He nodded. ‘Absolutely. I’m a professional. I don’t mix business with pleasure.’

Professional my ass!
Maybe she had pushed a little in London, but, boy, hadn’t he been enthusiastic? For someone who didn’t mix business with pleasure, he had sure enjoyed kissing and sleeping with her. And that ‘mission briefing’ with the Viking in the car park. They sounded as if they were arguing. Summer’s heart raced. She had him. Being nasty to him didn’t work, but if he wouldn’t mix business and pleasure, she had Flynn. All she had to do was seduce him and this mission was over.

Dropping her sleeping bag on the floor beside the bed, she shimmied out of her clothes and slipped between the sheets. She stretched, luxuriating in the feeling of cool cotton against her skin. ‘Mmmmm, lovely,’ she purred, before she rolled and dropped her arm over his torso.

She heard his surprised grunt. He wasn’t expecting that. She lay on her side, savouring the heat from him, listening to him breathing, waiting until he was almost asleep. Then she moved closer, making sure that her breasts were pressed against his back. Flynn’s groan quickly turned into a cough and she stifled the urge to giggle.

Poor baby. Maybe a few days in the country wouldn’t be a bad idea. She would stretch this out until she drove him to breaking point. It was his fault she was here anyway. Operation
Defeat the Bodyguard
was still on and she was determined to win.

Flynn lay there, rigid, feeling Summer crushed up against his back, her warmth like a blaze to his senses. What the hell was she up to? He had seen the calculation in her eyes before she slid into the bed beside him. And now, instead of lying as far away from him as possible, which is what he had expected, she was cuddled up like a kitten. A very sexy kitten.

She stretched, moaning slightly, and wiggled, letting him feel the diamond-hard points of her nipples. She was up to something. Flynn would have bet good money that she would have continued to treat him like the hired help, and pretend that nothing had happened between them. Yet here she was, acting as if she wanted him to roll over and give her everything he ached to.

What had he been thinking, inviting her into the bed with him? He had been so sure she’d insist on staying as far away as possible. He should have left her there on the
kitchen floor, curled up in front of the fireplace. Looking all soft and vulnerable.

No, bad thought. She’s not soft; she’s a hellcat in designer clothes. Packing only denim and T-shirts for her had backfired on him. Instead of looking out of place, she had looked far too much at home in those girl-next-door clothes. Approachable and sexy.

Determined to derail his train of thought, he tried to ignore the smell of the woman curled up at his back, and made plans for what he had to do tomorrow. The fire had priority. He would clean out the old fireplace, check the chimney for nests and chop wood. He looked forward to chopping wood. That would test his recovery and enable him to work off some of the sexual energy that was building up.

Lots of wood chopping, then. He’d fill the basket beside the fire, and then he’d start work on repairing the rest of the furniture in the old croft. He and David had spent a couple of weeks here last summer repairing the roof and the water pump, so they were sound, but the table was about the only solid piece of furniture downstairs.

The memory of Summer sitting at that table jumped in front of his closed eyes. Summer pretending she didn’t eat meat. Little madam. He had so wanted to make her eat her words. Instead he had politely agreed, when what he really wanted was to spank her boneless.

He would sit on the old chair, and pull her down across his lap. The image of her sprawled across him stirred his blood and hardened his cock in a rush. She’d protest, of course, but weakly. ‘What are you doing? I’m not sure about this …’

Flynn would ignore it, knowing damn well that she’d be disappointed if he did anything else. He would pull her forwards until she was settled over his thighs. If she struggled a little, he’d hold her wrists with his left hand, leaving his other hand free.

‘Comfortable?’ he’d whisper softly. ‘You won’t be for long.’ She’d quiver at his words, but would stay where he had put her. Oh yes, he knew her secret; she wanted this even more than he did.

Then he would spank her. Firm, open-handed spanks on her delectable bottom. They would take her by surprise at first. She’d yelp and gasp, try to wiggle away, but his other hand on her back would hold her in place. It’s not like she’d be struggling in earnest.

A dozen or so spanks, just to warm her up, until she relaxed a little. Then he would reach underneath her and unfasten those shorts. They’d slide down her legs, those long, tanned legs that haunted his dreams. Then she’d be in her panties. He wondered if she’d be wearing those lace and silk pieces of nothing that he had packed for her. Oh, look, yes she was. He couldn’t resist giving a quick stroke to her silk-covered bottom. She moaned and shifted, causing the blood to rush to his cock. Later. For now, he had something much better to think about.

‘It’s not over yet, you know,’ he told her, and spanked her again. This time it was sharper, stronger, without the protection of the denim. She yelped and cursed but he ignored her protests. He spanked her again and again, enjoying the feel of her panties beneath his hand.

She squealed and gasped, but made no real effort to get up.

Then the bit he was really looking forward to. He slid that excuse for underwear down her legs, and instructed her to step out of them. She had to straighten up a little to do this, but went back down onto his knees with no argument.

‘Such a good girl,’ he crooned, caressing her warm skin. It was only pink, not even red yet. He’d fix that.

Without warning, he spanked again, watching the way her buttocks jiggled with the impact. God, he could look at that all day. He did it again, and his cock rose, fully erect.

If women knew what men were thinking when they looked at a good arse, they’d either wear a nun’s habit, or go naked all the time. Why did they persist in thinking that they had to look like stick insects to be beautiful? He spanked Summer again, just for the pleasure of seeing that gorgeous arse quiver.

There wouldn’t be a huge difference to her in how it felt to be spanked when she was bare and when she was wearing her panties, but now she would feel exposed. ‘Move your feet apart,’ he told her, just to increase that feeling of vulnerability.

She did, shuffling her feet in tiny increments, but he waited until they were far enough apart to suit him.

Flynn spanked her again, and she gasped. The new position gave him access to a whole new set of nerve endings. He planned to make the most of them.

‘That hurts!’

‘It’s supposed to. You know you’ve been a spoilt brat. You deserve a good spanking. I’m going to spank you until you realize how badly you have behaved.’

He kept going, ignoring her gasps, until she quietened and he could see the subtle relaxation in her body. God, he loved this, he could spank her all day. There was nothing in the world like the feel of a hot, quivering arse under his hand.

Flynn stroked his hand down her back and she moaned. He spanked again, altering the angle slightly, and was rewarded by a deep groan. It was a sensual, arousing sound and he ached to hear more. He kept going, and she gasped again, this time more in surprise than pain, and she tipped up her hips so that he could continue what he was doing.

He answered the wordless plea by spanking faster, harder, finding the rhythm that she needed. Her arse was now a deep red, and so beautiful that he caught his breath.

She moaned more loudly, her breath coming faster and faster. Her hands clenched as her body fought to cope with the sensations overwhelming it. With each spank, she tightened further.

‘Please Sir, more. More,’ she pleaded, and Flynn obliged. Another dozen hard spanks and she broke into orgasm with a wail.

‘Ah! Ah! Ah!’

She gasped, trying to catch her breath after he stopped. He continued to smooth his hands gently and soothingly over her bottom. His cock rose demandingly against his belly, aching for release.

‘Now that we have established who is in charge,’ he told her. ‘We can proceed to the main event.’

Oh, the things he wanted to do to this woman.

The noise of a gentle snore stopped him. She had fallen
asleep? The snore was coming from behind him. He opened his eyes and turned his head. Even in the darkness, he could see Summer O’Sullivan curled up in his bed. The real woman looked softer and gentler than the one in his imagination. He knew it was an illusion, but it was enough to break the sensual spell he had been enjoying.

Instead, he forced his mind back to the business of protecting his principal. And reminding himself that he had to keep his hands off her. It was going to be a long night.