Free With This Fling... by Kelly Hunter

You did the job Iasked of you. You withstood my mother’s disapproval with dignity and grace. You were gentle with Sarah. I’m grateful. And I’m impressed.’ He set his coffee on the counter, out of harm’s way. ‘So, do I qualify for a fling? Do I meet your criteria? Because from where I’m standing, I think I do.’
    ‘Modesty’s not really one of your strengths,’ she murmured.
    ‘No.’ Those dark brown eyes lightened a little. ‘But then, you didn’t specify the need for it.’
    ‘Gilbert was very modest,’ she said on a sigh.
    ‘Gilbert was a figment of your imagination,’ he reminded her. ‘I think you’ll find me far more satisfying in any number of ways.’
    ‘You really want to do this?’ she murmured.
    ‘Yes.’ Not an indecisive bone in this man’s superbly sculpted body. ‘Do you?’
    Did she? Would a night spent in the arms of a man she barely knew chase her loneliness away, even if only for a little while? A man who made her feel warm and protected. One who, for a moment there, back on that deck overlooking the water, made her feel valued and loved. ‘Yes.’
    His smile came slow and warm. ‘As in now?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Noted,’ he said silkily. ‘But if you don’t mind, I might wait a while. What with all this arranging of events, we seem to have lost a bit of spontaneity. I do enjoy spontaneity within lovemaking.’
    ‘You should have said,’ she murmured. ‘I’d have left the slave bracelets off.’
    ‘Slave bracelets?’ His gaze cut to the bracelets at her wrist, and that big body of his became unnaturally still.
    ‘Oh, yes. Did I not mention them? I’m pretty sure I mentioned them to everyone else at the barbecue. The slave bracelets, that is. Signalling possession and worth. A certain willingness to oblige.’ Challenge, not submission, and Greyson responded, as Charlotte knew he would, for this man fed on challenge and always would.
    He stalked around to her side of the bench and trapped her against it, his hands either side of her on the counter. Perhaps he’d decided not to take his time after all. Oh, well …
    ‘I’d ask for your thoughts on submission within lovemaking but I wouldn’t want to endanger the spontaneity. So …’ She deliberately leaned forward and let her chest brush against his; her nipples responding instantly to allthat hardness and heat. He noticed. Charlotte breathed in deeply, savouring the scent of him. He noticed that, too.
    ‘What would you like to do while we wait?’ she asked in dulcet tones. ‘Would you care for a drink to go with your coffee? Cognac? Brandy liqueur?’
    ‘No.’ Greyson’s lips were at the spot on her neck, just below the base of her ear where a woman might put perfume only she hadn’t worn any perfume. Not today. Next time, if there was such a time, she would apply a scent this man would remember with a deep and abiding pleasure.
    He touched the tip of his tongue to her skin next and she gasped her approval, arching her neck to allow him better access. Spontaneity was all well and good but when it came to the act of making love, she far preferred a man who was thorough. One who would not be rushed. One who knew how to take his time.
    ‘Scotch?’ she murmured.
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Now? Or shall I wait for spontaneity to strike?’ That earned her a husky rumble that set her hands to his chest and his lips to curving, lips she couldn’t help but find with her own. The kiss started out as fleeting and rapidly grew ragged.
    ‘I like it neat, no ice.’ Greyson’s hands were at her waist. Wide warm palms and long strong fingers, he slid those hands down the sides of her body until he reached her thighs. When he slid his hands back up to her waist he dragged the fabric of her dress with him.
    ‘And the glass?’ She closed her eyes and shuddered as the hem of her frock inched higher. ‘Square or round?’
    ‘Round.’ He lifted her effortlessly and sat her on the bench, stepping in between her legs, forcing