The Pleasures of Summer

by Evie Hunter

  ‘You think the bad guys will only attack you when you are fresh and well-rested? Twenty more minutes and you can rest for a while.’

  Her punch this time was the first one which he felt. ‘Well done. Now you’re getting it.’

  He continued, ‘First rule of self-defence. Don’t be there. Listen to your instincts. Don’t get into a situation where you have to defend yourself. Better to be rude than dead. But the second rule is that you are fighting for your life. No messing about trying to be nice. If you have to fight, you are the only one that counts. Do whatever it takes to get out alive.’

  He showed her how to break an attacker’s nose and possibly kill him before he let her rest. That was probably enough for the first day.

  22

  Next morning, when she was making her morning dash to the latrine, he checked out the box of provisions Niall had sent. Excellent, there was more food and a nice change from the usual scrumpy: a bottle of Baileys, nestled into a freezer box full of ice. It was his secret pleasure and he didn’t give a damn that the guys of the Wing teased him about it. Hell, they could talk. One of them had a box of Tayto shipped by helicopter to some godforsaken place when they were stuck there over Christmas. Some of the other lads were worse than girls for chocolate, but no one gave them grief over that. Well, not without suffering.

  As soon as breakfast was eaten and they were drinking their coffee, Summer announced, ‘I’ve come to a decision.’

  He put down his cup. ‘Yes?’

  ‘We’re stuck here for the next couple of weeks, right?’ He nodded. ‘And I have no phone, no television, no internet, no Facebook, no Twitter, no Wii, no books to read, no access to a beauty salon, no gym, no yoga class, no shops and no friends. Have I got that right?’

  He winced. It did sound bad. ‘You’ve got a personal trainer,’ he defended himself.

  She waved that off. ‘Basically, I have a whole lot of nothing to do. While that has a certain novelty value, and will no doubt do wonders for my stress levels, I’m already bored.’

  ‘We could go fishing.’

  She gave him the look he deserved for that. ‘Fishing – the undisputed king of the boring sports. Yes, let’s do that.’ She shook her head. ‘No, I have something different in mind.’

  ‘Go on.’

  She took a breath. ‘While we’re here, you’re going to tell me everything you know about kinky sex.’ She didn’t wait for him to reply. ‘The only advantage of this damned croft is that it’s private. So I want to do all the stuff I can’t do at home. And you can teach me.’

  He had to admire her for being upfront. His resolve to keep her at arm’s length had barely lasted through the first week. The prospect of teaching Summer, of doing all of those things he had fantasized about, was too much to resist. His treacherous cock was already awake at the prospect. It was an offer no sane man could refuse.

  ‘After dinner, then. But first we have to find lunch.’ They went out looking for wild herbs, as if she hadn’t made that outrageous offer.

  A change in the wind, bringing heavy black rain clouds in across the loch, sent them back to the croft for an early lunch. By the time it was cooked, the rain was beating down on the roof. They were stuck inside for the rest of the day.

  The rain continued to drum against the windows long after they had cleared away the lunch things.

  ‘You know, I think it’s time we worked on one of your weak spots,’ Flynn said, but refused to tell her what he had in mind.

  Summer waited for a hint of what he was planning. Whistling cheerfully, Flynn went to the jeep and when he returned he was carrying the bag from London. The one with the guns and other stuff that she didn’t want to think about.

  He set the bag down on the chair and unzipped it. From a small black case he produced a handgun. ‘A Sig Sauer 9mm pistol.’

  Flynn unclipped the magazine before offering it to her. ‘You can touch it now. It’s not loaded.’

  Summer reached tentatively for the gun. It was heavier than she expected. She handed it back to Flynn, trying to hide her distaste. His search of the bag produced what he was looking for and he gave her a speculative look before he produced a coil of rope and some dark fabric. He set both on the table in front of her.

  The fabric proved to be a finely woven bag with a drawstring at the end, like the kind of bag in which she would store shoes or handbags. She guessed that it wasn’t for her Louboutins. Realization dawned and she knew how Flynn intended to use it. ‘No. Absolutely not.’

  ‘You need to do this in a safe environment. It means that you are less likely to panic if you ever encounter the real thing. And I promise to make it worth your while.’

  Summer covered her ears. She didn’t want to know.

  ‘Look at me. There are four phases to a kidnapping: assault, transportation, captivity and release. The first and last phases are the most dangerous for a civilian. If you panic, you could be killed. I’m asking you to trust me.’

  This was a dangerous Flynn, one that she didn’t know, but his voice was steady and calm and her instinct was to do what he asked.

  ‘What do you intend to do?’ She hated that her voice shook. She wasn’t a coward, but there were some things that scared the hell out of her.

  ‘I’m going to tie you and then put the hood over your head. You won’t panic because I’ll be here with you. I won’t leave your side for an instant.’

  Summer bit her lip. Could she let Flynn restrain her? This wasn’t the same as the rope. This wouldn’t be playing. ‘And you’ll stop the minute I ask you to?’

  ‘You have a safe word. All you have to do is use it.’

  She couldn’t say yes. That was the scariest word in the English language at this moment. Instead, she stretched out her hands to him.

  ‘Good girl, but we’ll get ready first.’ He piled more wood on the fire until it was a hot, crackling blaze. ‘And since this is going to be an experience you’ll never forget, I want you naked.’

  Naked? She swallowed. Did he have any idea what he was asking? She badly wanted to refuse, but the thought of appearing a coward in Flynn’s eyes drove her on.

  She stripped off and stood before the fire. The heat of the flames caressed her body.

  Flynn’s eyes warmed with appreciation and something more, but he was all business as he wrapped the rope around her chest and waist, then looped it around her elbows. When he was finished, her arms were pinned at her sides. Her hands were free, but she couldn’t move them enough to do anything useful with them. He checked the tightness of the ropes, sliding in a finger here and there to make sure it wasn’t too tight. He caught a knot at her back and pulled, and Summer had no option but to move back. She glared at him.

  He grinned. ‘I might keep this on you permanently. It’s one way to keep you under control.’

  She didn’t get a chance to reply, because he pulled the black bag down over her head. She had a fleeting impression of the smell of gun oil and linseed.

  Darkness descended.

  For an endless, timeless, horrifying moment, Summer couldn’t breathe. This was all of her worst fears coming together. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t hear, couldn’t even scream.

  Then she was conscious of Flynn’s warm hands on her skin, his strong arms around her, his voice in her ear. ‘Good girl, I’ve got you. I’m here.’ It was muffled by the hood, but she could hear him. ‘Now breathe. Breathe with me.’

  His chest rose and fell at her back, solid and reassuring. She made a heroic effort to quell her panic and concentrated on breathing in time with Flynn. She dismissed a random thought about how his lungs must be so much bigger than hers. Everything about Flynn was bigger. In. Out. In. Out. She could breathe. The panic receded.

  ‘My brave girl,’ said the voice in her ear. The hand on her stomach shifted and moved up to her breast. A sudden pinch on her nipple jolted her, igniting a spark of arousal in her pelvis.

  ‘Oh yeah, that’s my Summer,’ he said. Bo
th hands now skimmed up and down her body, setting her skin on fire and causing the bones in her legs to dissolve.

  She didn’t recognize herself. Here she was, naked and wearing a hood, in front of a fully dressed man with a gun. It should have been her worst nightmare, but all she could think of was getting him to continue to touch her.

  ‘More,’ she pleaded.

  ‘Oh, there will be much, much more,’ Flynn promised. ‘Here, let me make you comfortable.’

  His hands supported her while he helped her to her knees, then stretched her out so that she was supported by a stool. It wasn’t what she had been expecting, but she did feel more secure than standing in the dark.

  She turned her head, straining to make out what he was doing. It sounded as if he was rifling around the kitchen, searching for something.

  ‘Now,’ he said. ‘We’re going to have some fun.’

  Something soft caressed her back. It was delicious, and she arched up, trying to get more of it. ‘What is that, a feather?’ she asked.

  ‘You think?’ he said, and she could hear the grin in his voice. ‘It would be a strange bird grew this feather. Here, feel.’ He put it against her hand, and she recognized the thin rubber strands of the little flogger she had bought in the hope that Adam would use it.

  ‘I had no idea.’ Her voice sounded muffled, but understandable. ‘I thought it would sting.’

  ‘Oh, it can do that too.’ She had no warning before the flogger flashed down on her bottom, bright and sharp. ‘But it doesn’t have to.’

  Flynn began to whisk the little flogger over her skin, from her calves up her thighs and ass to her back and shoulders. It started off light and teasing, causing little sparkles of awareness to flicker with each movement of his wrist. As the strokes got harder, the sparkles became hotter, each one a tiny sting, but she didn’t want him to stop.

  It seemed he heard her silent plea, because Flynn increased the intensity until she was consumed by the feeling of the flogger, and had forgotten about the hood. Eyes closed, all she felt was the hot, rhythmic sting. She sank into its embrace, allowing herself to feel without thinking.

  Flynn’s voice startled her. ‘Of course, the beauty of a soft flail like this is that you can use it anywhere on the body.’ That was the only warning she got before it stroked in between her legs, flicking her clit as it went.

  ‘Ahh!’ It wasn’t painful, but the shock of it made her rear up. Flynn’s hand kept her in position. Each tap of the little flogger against her clit was hot and sharp and arousing. She had no idea if she wanted it to stop or go on forever.

  Flynn made the decision for her. He stopped and instead ran his hands up and down her body. Now his hands felt cool compared to her hot skin, but undeniably tempting.

  Without even thinking about it, she parted her knees when his hands got to her bottom. She desperately needed those skilled hands where she was aching most. Knowing fingers explored her dripping pussy. Summer shifted her hips backwards, trying to impale herself on them.

  ‘You’re so wet,’ he said. ‘Which is good.’

  She heard tearing, and hoped he was opening a condom. Please, please, let it be a condom. But no, those fingers were back at her weeping pussy, and she felt something being slipped inside.

  For a few seconds, nothing happened, then she felt a change. Whatever it was, it was growing! It fizzed and pressed against the inside of her aching channel. ‘What is it?’ she gasped.

  ‘Half an Alka-Seltzer.’ There was no mistaking the grin in his voice. ‘Like it?’

  She tightened against the strange feeling, and it got stronger. ‘I’m not sure.’ She twisted her hips a little, but the fizzing got more obvious.

  ‘Then I hope you’ll like this.’ He pushed something else inside her.

  The cold of an ice-cube was almost enough to trigger her into orgasm. She gasped, hands uselessly clutching empty air as her focus was all on her pussy.

  The ice melted, and suddenly the fizzing became so loud she could hear it even through the hood. A series of tiny electric shocks flooded her pussy. She was out of control, gasping and moaning and completely unable to resist the orgasm that swept over her.

  Flynn’s fingers on her aching clit made it deeper and stronger, until it finally passed, leaving her a boneless mass of satisfaction. She had a hazy thought that she could stay like that forever, then a vague astonished realization she still wore the hood. How amazing that she had forgotten about it.

  She was still floating when Flynn lifted her off the stool. He hugged her tightly, allowing her to relax against his strength. She was mildly astonished to notice that he was still fully clothed. How remarkable that after all that, he was still dressed. She leaned against him, relishing the heavy thump of his heart under her cheek. Even through the hood, she could feel it.

  ‘That was amazing,’ she said.

  ‘And we’re not finished yet,’ he told her. ‘That was only the appetizer.’

  Her lassitude vanished. ‘That’s good. I still have room for a main course.’

  Flynn lifted her off her feet and settled her down on a pile of quilts in front of the fire. She was limp with pleasure, and not going to argue with anything he suggested. All those years of wondering what kinky sex would be like were being answered in a way that made her wonder why she had waited so long.

  She sprawled shamelessly in front of him, uncaring that she was naked and hadn’t seen a salon since she left London. With Flynn, she felt free.

  ‘After the sweet, the sting,’ he said, and before she could ask what he meant, something rough swept down between her breasts.

  Summer jerked. ‘What is that?’

  He chuckled. ‘It’s your hairbrush. Like it? All natural bristle.’ He brushed it across the tips of her nipples. It sent a miniature shock through her.

  ‘I’m not sure.’ Her over-sensitized nerves didn’t know if they loved or hated what he was doing.

  ‘Then try this.’ This time, it was something soft and gentle that whisked down her body. Her flail again? She purred in reaction.

  The hairbrush was pulled up the inside of her thigh, leaving a trail of fire in its wake, just before Flynn’s mouth fastened on her neck. The heat of it twisted something deep inside her. She fought against the rope at her waist, frantic to touch him.

  He raised his head. ‘Naughty, naughty. I’m driving.’ Without warning, something smacked down on her thigh, hot and stringing. ‘A hairbrush has two sides, you know.’ Then his mouth was sliding down her neck to her collarbone.

  She gave herself up to his talented mouth, and was panting eagerly when he raised his head.

  ‘Just one more thing,’ he said. He moved down her body. She caught a hint of a new smell, one that overrode the gun oil of her hood, before something cold touched the hood of her clit.

  It was only cold for a few seconds, then it got hotter and hotter. ‘What is it?’ she cried. Surely he wasn’t going to hurt her.

  ‘It’s tiger balm.’ She could hear the smile in his voice. ‘Great for post-workout rubdowns. And for naughty girls.’

  The heat expanded and blossomed. She twisted and moaned, trying to contain it. Her entire body was dominated by her clit. ‘Ouch, that’s hot.’

  ‘It’s supposed to be. Don’t you like it?’

  She hated to admit it, but she did. Her pussy was on fire, desperate for Flynn. His hand on her stomach stopped her writhing. ‘Stay still and enjoy the feeling.’

  ‘Are you kidding me?’ she panted, struggling against him but unable to move away from that strong hand. Her clit tingled, driving her almost insane. She couldn’t tell if she liked or hated it. Then Flynn’s mouth on her breast decided her. She loved it.

  His teeth closed on her nipple, the pressure just this side of pain. Despite herself, her pussy clenched and she lifted her hips, begging wordlessly for him to touch her.

  ‘Fuck me. Please.’ Nothing mattered in the world except what he was doing to her.

  ‘You know bette
r than that,’ he said, but he moved again.

  She heard a lid unscrewing, then his broad shoulders were between her thighs. She widened them more, giving him better access. At this stage, she didn’t care what he did, as long as he did something to put out the fire blazing in her belly.

  The coolness of the liquid over her clit was a shock, but before she could pull away, his hot mouth was there, licking and sucking. The heat of the tiger balm dissipated into a warm tingle, and the sweep of his tongue drove her mindless.

  ‘Yes, yes, please, keep doing that,’ she wept.

  ‘Oh, I’ll do more.’

  Without warning, she felt long fingers sliding inside her, even as that relentless mouth kept up the delicious torture. She moved down, trying to increase the pressure, but his shoulders stopped her.

  Then those fingers moved, opening and twisting inside her. Every pressure point Summer owned was under assault. She had forgotten how to breathe, how to speak. Her mind was incapable of words, but it didn’t matter. Flynn kept up the suction even as his skilled fingers tormented her from inside.

  It was too much. Her entire body seized in an orgasm that knocked out all thought. She was vaguely aware that she was screaming as she came again and again while Flynn urged her on for one more.

  She convulsed, out of control, as her lungs emptied and the red behind her eyelids was lit by silver sparkles.

  When she returned to earth, she was wrapped in Flynn’s arms, the hood was gone and her body was still throbbing. He kissed her hot forehead. ‘Still afraid of the dark?’

  She smiled. ‘What dark?’

  23

  Summer drained the last of her morning coffee. ‘So, what’s on the agenda for today? Hunting, fishing? Oh, please say it’s shooting.’ She batted her eyelashes at him in an exaggerated gesture.

  ‘That attitude could get you into a lot of trouble.’

  Flynn sounded as if he meant it and she was almost tempted to push him to see how far he would go. Would he restrain her again? What other games did Flynn like to play? A small shiver of excitement raced up her spine when she remembered all the things they had done.