Page 102 of The Trouble with Flings

Fuck. Now I’m thinking about doing it again.

I clear my throat in an effort to rid myself of the image of her clinging to the couch, her beautiful bare ass there for the taking and her slick heat swallowing my cock.

It doesn’t help.

“No,” I finally manage. “The last time you were here, you were looking at the world through lust-filled eyes, intent on getting me naked.” I toss her a coy grin and go around to open her door.

“As I recall,” she says as she takes my hand and climbs out, “you were intent on getting me naked.”

“It was a joint endeavor.”

She smiles, her hair catching the breeze as she surveys my yard, her gaze trailing over the hydrangeas and peonies that weathered the harsh winter wind, the knockout roses climbing over a stone knee wall I built with my father, Wells, and a few friends the year I built this house, and a smattering of early daffodils pushing through the dirt and grass.

“I bet this is even more beautiful when the flowers are in bloom.”

“It is.” I grab her suitcase from the back, and we head up the stone walkway.

The ocean comes into view, and she sighs. “It’s weird seeing water.”

“Weird or good?”

“Both. It smells a lot better here than in the city. I’ll give you that.”

When we step inside, her breath catches. The great room stretches before us, all exposed beams and wide-plank bamboo floors, the fireplace dominating the space. The kitchen and dining room spill into one another, and the U shape of my home comes into full view through the wall of glass doors leading to the central patio.

“You don’t remember any of this, do you?” I ask, setting her suitcase aside.

Heat flickers over her cheeks. “I remember that couch.”

I wrap my arms around her from behind. “I remember that, too, wild girl.” I kiss the curve of her neck. “You bent over the back of it, taking everything I had to give, my fingers tangled in your hair, and your greedy sounds echoing off the walls.”

She turns in my arms, and “Fitz” falls lustfully from her lips.

Our mouths come together hard and hungry. I’ve been starving for her. I could drown in the way she kisses me back, all fire and need, grinding her lush curves against me, sending a jolt of heat straight to my cock. I splay my hands on her back, holding her there as we stumble toward the couch.

The cushions give as I lower us down, my hands everywhere at once. Her gorgeous breasts are fuller, her hips rounder, and I can’t get enough of them. I need to be closer, to be skin to skin. She bows beneath me, her nails scraping my scalp. Her heart is pounding against my chest, or maybe that’s just mine, trying to break free.

When we finally come up for air, her eyes are at half-mast, her lips pink and swollen. I brush mine lightly over them. “God, I missed you.”

“Me, too,” she pants out.

I slide my hand down her hip and leg and pull her knee up so she can feel what she does to me. “I can’t believe you’re mine for the next six days.”

“Mm.” She punctuates the sensual sound with a rock of her hips, driving me out of my mind.

“We’re going to christen every surface in this house that we missed last time and rechristen the ones we didn’t.”

She traps her lower lip between her teeth, eyes dancing with intrigue. “That’s a lot of surfaces.”

“We’ve got twelve days to make up for.”

“I think I’m going to like it here, island boy.” As she pulls my mouth back to hers, her stomach growls loudly. She cringes and hides her face in my neck.

I laugh.

“I blame the baby,” she says, and gazes up at me through those long, thick lashes, looking adorably sweet.

“Cock-blocked by my kid before it’s even born.” I kiss her smiling lips. “To be continued.” I move off the couch and put my hands on her belly.