Free A Little Harmless Fling by Melissa Schroeder

A Little Harmless Fling
    (c) 2008, Melissa Schroeder
    The woman who called herself Gennifer brushed a blonde curl back over her shoulder and smiled at the bartender as he set her strawberry margarita in front of her.
    “Thanks.”
    “Will there be anything else?” He offered her a smile that promised more than drinks. And, at one time, she would have taken him up on it. Young, virile, he had light green eyes that stood out against his bronze skin.
    But…she didn’t need or want another man.
    She shook her head and sipped her drink. As he worked his way down the bar, she watched him, handling locals and tourists with the ease. In Honolulu, she was sure it was something that gained him a lot of good tips. And, she thought as she took another sip, he could mix a mean margarita, heavy on the tequila, thank God.
    Gennifer looked in the mirror behind the bar and studied the crowd of sunburned tourists decked out in their new Hawaiian outfits, and that’s when she saw him. Her stomach clenched, her nerves stretched. He was right on time as he always was. She couldn’t remember if he’d ever been late. The man was probably born on time with minimum fuss.
    He was gorgeous of course. That was another thing that hadn’t changed. Thick blond hair, strong jaw, that linebacker body. His black Hawaiian shirt sported one embellishment—a palm tree on the top right corner. It made her grin.
    Butch—as she was thinking of him at the moment—would never wear something with a busy pattern. The khaki, loose-fitting pants were ruthlessly ironed, not a crease to be found.
    Their gazes locked in the mirror. As serious as he was, there was always a hint of devilment within his deep chocolate eyes. His hair might be perfectly styled, his suit without a wrinkle, but there was always a wicked gleam in the depths of his gaze.
    As he made his way through the bar, he never took his attention from her in the mirror. A shiver slipped down to the base of her spine. Heat vibrated through her, shimmering in her blood, racing along her skin. Gennifer had to suppress a quiver as he continued walking toward her.
    He kept his attention on her, ignoring the patrons in general, even snubbing one or two women who approached him.
    The shiver grew, heat slicing through her veins, her body warming the closer her got. His dominant personality should have been a turn off. It had been with other men, but with him, well…it just got her hotter. Even in the humid Hawaiian air, her nipples tightened against the cotton fabric of her red dress.
    By the time he reached her side, she was breathless, although she did her best to hide it. She sipped her drink then glanced over at him. The knowing smile irritated and aroused her.
    “Took ya long enough, Butch.”
    Humor lightened his eyes. “You’ve always been a demanding wench.” The bartender sidled closer. Butch shook his head without looking at the man.
    “I assume you got the room.”
    She really should take exception to his tone. She should have been pissed when he’d sent her an email with an order to secure a room. Instead, just the thought of being ordered about by him had her hormones humming. He could melt her into a puddle of lust with just a look.
    “Yes, although you didn’t specify what kind of view you wanted.” His lips quirked, but he said nothing as he watched as she finished her drink.
    She didn’t hurry, even if she wanted to. Truthfully, what she yearned to do was to rush upstairs, strip him naked, and then jump his gorgeous bones. It wouldn’t be the first time for that…and definitely not the last. Tonight, though, she wanted to draw out the anticipation. She knew it drove him crazy.

    ***
She was pushing him. She was good at it, excelled at it in fact. Years of practice had made her an expert on just what would push him over the edge.
    And she always was one for the game. But this time, he thought, he would just push back.
    Butch crowded closer, slipping in between her barstool and