Free Hot Island Nights by Sarah Mayberry

isn’t going to punish anyone except yourself.”
    “You think you’re so clever and charming, don’t you?” She snatched the plate from him.
    She sat on the bed and rested the plate on her knees.
    “Actually, no. I don’t.” He straddled the battered wooden chair by the window and rested his forearms on the back.
    “Yes, you do. You think you’re irresistible, but you’re not. You didn’t charm me just now, and you didn’t charm me last night. I slept with you for my own reasons, not because of anything you did or said. And I’m eating my dinner because I paid for it and I’m hungry.”
    She picked up her burger and took a big, screw-you bite out of it.
    “Whatever floats your boat, Betty.”
    She frowned at him ferociously until she’d swallowed and could speak again.
    “Please stop calling me that. My name is Elizabeth.”
    “You’re right. You’re not really a Betty.”
    “Thank you.”
    “More of a Lizzy.”
    She sighed heavily, rolled her eyes and took another bite of her burger.
    “Mind if I have one of your fries?” He didn’t wait for her to respond, simply grabbed a handful.
    “Have you ever seen the movie Greystoke? ” she asked.
    “I think so. That’s the fancy Tarzan one, yeah? With Christopher Lambert? Why?”
    “You put me in mind of a certain man who was raised by wild apes.”
    She looked pretty pleased with herself for getting a shot in, and he rewarded her with a laugh before helping himself to more fries.
    “Nice one, Lizzy.”
    She tried not to smile, but her lips kept curling up at the corners.
    “How’s that burger?”
    “Very nice. Thank you,” she said grudgingly.
    “I meant to tell you—I left a message with Sam today. Hopefully he’ll get back to me soon.”
    “Oh. Can I ask what message you left?” She looked worried.
    “If you’re asking if I left a voice-mail message telling him about his long-lost, possibly unknown daughter, the answer is no. I simply told him he needed to call, stat.”
    “Well. Thank you.”
    “You’re welcome. Are you going to eat the rest of that burger?”
    “I suppose I should be grateful you didn’t grab it from my hand,” she said as she offered the plate to him.
    She drank her Pimm’s while he polished off the burger.
    “I suppose you’d like me to leave you some of this, too?” she asked, arching an eyebrow in inquiry.
    “Lizzy, I’m happy to say it’s all yours. Foul stuff.”
    “Have you even tried it?”
    “Yes. Once. Which was more than enough.”
    “It’s very refreshing.”
    “Sure it is.” He stood and dusted his hands down the front of his jeans.
    She swallowed the last of her Pimm’s, then stood, as well.
    “We okay?” he asked.
    She nodded briefly. Ever so gracious, as always. As always where she was concerned, he couldn’t help smiling.
    “At least wait until you’ve left before you laugh at me,” she said primly.
    “I wasn’t laughing at you, Lizzy.”
    She walked past him and opened the door.
    “Thank you for my dinner. And the apology.”
    He walked toward the door but stopped when he was in front of her.
    “Don’t I get a goodbye kiss?” he asked, his eyes on her full lower lip.
    “I don’t think that would be a very good idea, for a lot of reasons.”
    “So? It’d be fun, at the very least.” He leaned toward her.
    She put her hands on his chest. “Is fun all that you ever think about?”
    An image of Olivia flashed across his mind. The blood on her face. Her fear-filled eyes.
    “No,” he said, then he closed the last, small distance between them and kissed her.
    She tasted sweet and tangy from the Pimm’s. He slid his hands over her shoulders and down her back to cup her ass. Her peachy, round ass. She made a low sound in the back of her throat. He stroked her tongue with his and pressed forward with his hips, instinctively seeking the heat and softness of her body. He was hard—had been half-hard the whole time he’d been in her room, simply from smelling her perfume