Page 6 of The Trouble with Flings

I can’t help but laugh. “The point is, memories are funny things. They can inflate good times into extraordinary times.”

He slides his arm around my waist, turning me toward him, his gaze enticingly thoughtful. “Is that what you’re telling yourself? That it can’t be as good as you remember?”

“Maybe,” I admit. I’m not even sure if I’m being honest or if I’m just scared to find out it really was that good.

“In that case, I’m available for research purposes.”

God, this guy… “I don’t want to do research, and I don’t want to think about it this hard. I just want to have a good time and not worry about the rest.”

“You want a no-strings fling?” he asks with amusement.

“Yes. Why not?”

“In that case…” He draws me against him, and my entire body comes alive. “Let me refresh your memory and save my reputation.”

His hand slides along my jaw, his warm fingers settling at the back of my neck. He doesn’t rush. He simply holds me there, giving me a chance to say no or step away, but I don’t, because kissing Fitz Silver is like a gateway drug to someplace so full of pleasure, nothing else could ever compare. My senses zero in on the feel of his body against mine and his arm tightening around my waist. His fingers slide into my hair and tangle into a fist, flooding me with anticipation.

Suddenly the space between our mouths feels too vast.

“You remember,” he murmurs, and brushes his smiling lips over mine, stoking the flames that have been simmering since I laid eyes on him in the lobby.

His mouth covers mine slowly and sensually, filling me with the same intoxicating sensations that unraveled me last time. A restless heat starts somewhere deep in my chest, spreading outward until every nerve in my body burns with desire. My fingers curl into his shirt, and I melt against him.

He deepens the kiss until I forget every careful argument I’ve had with myself about memories and distance and sensible decisions. His thumb slides along my jaw, down to the base of my neck, as if he’s cataloging my every reaction.

When our lips finally part, I draw in a long, shaky breath, and it feels like the first one I’ve taken since leaving Silver Island.

Fitz

Jennifer’s still clutching my shirt, her breathing ragged. The haziness in her eyes tells me she’s still reeling, too. I brush my thumb along her cheek, bringing those gorgeous eyes to mine. As the lust in them clears, surprise flashes for only a second before I see her working through the effects of the kiss, calculating the weight of it, the meaning.

There’s no escaping this, sweetheart.

I don’t need her to acknowledge it. I know she likes to be in control, and I’m okay with easing her into acceptance.

Sliding my hand down to hers, I lace our fingers together and say, “Shall we?”

Her brows lift in question.

I find it insanely sexy that this strong woman is still too swept up in our kiss to speak. “We should get something to eat before you realize every woman here is envious of you, and your blood pressure spikes. I wouldn’t want you to pass out.”

As if my words reminded her of where we are, she steals a glance around us as we head up to the top deck, where dinner is being served.

“Don’t worry, we didn’t make a spectacle of ourselves.”

“How can you be so sure? You seemed pretty focused on me,” she challenges as we step onto the deck.

“Which is exactly why I took a pulse on our surroundings before kissing you. I will never embarrass you.” I lean closer, squeezing her hand as I add, “In or out of the bedroom.”

Her eyes flick up to mine, full of challenge. “Good, because degradation is not my kink.”

There’s nothing more attractive than a woman who owns her sexuality. “As you know, it’s not mine, either.” A little praise goes a long way, and she responded to it beautifully the last time we were together.

We fill our plates at the buffet and find a quiet table beneath the lights. After we order drinks, Jennifer looks around, more at ease, taking it all in. “So,” she says as she spreads a napkin on her lap. “This is how the other half lives.”

Wells and Jared’s relationship developed only recently. I don’t know much about Jennifer’s family, other than that Jace and Jared are both very wealthy men who created their own empires.

“I can’t speak for the other half,” I say as we eat. “I only know about my life.”