A Touch of Summer (5 page)

'Will you ever nail the bitch?' Hall snarled, his face contorted with rage. Summer shuddered. How could she have ever thought that he was attractive?

“Bastard,” a Seal beside her muttered under his breath.

Hall’s team-mate obliged with a sharp blow and Niall staggered as Reilly was knocked backwards. Summer gasped. That blow would have made her scream. Reilly just grabbed Neill’s hair to regain her balance and spat out a mouthful of blood.

As if he were a horse, she dug her heels into Niall’s ribs to urge him on. Her fists were up, ready to fight.

Niall sprang forward, but as he got close, Hall stuck out his foot, tripping him. The Ranger stumbled, and Hall kicked him in the back of the knee. He went down hard, his grunt of pain drowned out by the sound of punches and yells from the other fighters. As Reilly hit the ground, Hall lashed out and kicked her.

For a second, Summer was paralysed. How could Hall possibly do that to a woman? But no one was paying attention. The expression on Hall’s face scared Summer. He looked as if he were going to kick Reilly again.

Without thinking, she plunged into the melee, determined to protect the other woman.

It took seconds before she realised what a mistake that was. Reilly was struggling to her feet, but Summer was caught between her and a furious Hall. He drew back his fist.

Summer screamed. 'Flynn!'

Flynn turned and took in the situation in one glance. Ignoring the Australian Andy had just knocked to the ground; he took two giant steps in her direction. Andy’s long legs hampered his movement, but didn’t slow him down. Flynn hit Hall with an uppercut to his chin that knocked him backwards and off his feet.

He didn’t even wait to see the SEAL pair fall before he grabbed Summer and marched her back to the side of the field. 'And this time, stay here.'

Then he was gone, back into the confusion.

The number of Giants was smaller now, but the fighting was more vicious. Andy urged Flynn into the thickest part of the scum where he could use his almost preternatural ability to predict movement to let his opponents beat each other up. Flynn was still frozen with horror at the sight of Summer facing an enraged Hall. God knows what the bastard would have done to her if Flynn hadn’t got there in time.

Some day, Flynn vowed, he would have a reckoning with Hall. He had been sliding by on his connections for too long. It was time he got the ass-kicking he deserved.

He risked a glance at the sidelines and saw Summer there, clutching Reilly’s arm like a kid at a carnival. She was round-eyed and shocked, but in perfect health.

Then Andy was swinging a roundhouse punch at a big Frenchman and Flynn focused on the fight at hand. The world faded to Andy’s weight on his shoulders, the signals to turn, the struggle to stay upright in the mass of writhing muscles, the sound of punches hitting flesh, curses and grunts, the smell of sweat and bruised grass.

Blood dripped from Andy’s nose down onto Flynn, but he ignored it. There were only three giants left now, and he and Andy were under attack from the formidable SAS pair.

Flynn jumped back, out of range of a punch that would have knocked out a horse, and felt something hit the back of his knee like a sledgehammer. His entire left leg was a useless blaze of pain. He turned his head and saw Hall behind him, foot still retracting from the kick.

Flynn staggered, and caught the shoulder of the SAS operator to prevent himself from falling. 'Fuck off, man,' he said, but he had seen the kick too and didn’t push Flynn away. He backed off half a step.

Flynn used the tacit permission to turn and attack the American Giant. Andy launched at his on top, delivering a series of surgically precise blows. The fact that they had shared obscene jokes and a six-pack of beer the night before did not stop him, or slow the retaliation from his opponent.

The expression on Hall’s face confirmed what Flynn expected. The bastard was going to go for it again. Flynn deliberately turned a quarter step away, leaving an opening, and Hall went for it. He kicked at Flynn’s knee again.

Flynn was ready. With one leg off the ground to kick, Hall was off balance. Flynn lashed out with a sidekick to the other leg and as Hall stumbled, he elbowed him in the side of the head.

Hall hit the ground, yelling that his jaw was broken.

His team mate on top fell too, but rolled to his feet. 'Oh man up,' he told Hall. 'You’re screaming like a girl. You’re a fucking disgrace to the team.' He stalked off, leaving Hall on the ground.

The battle was not over. The SAS pair had enough of playing nice, and went on the attack. Flynn lost track of time as they battled, neither pair giving an inch.

He was sweating and exhausted by the time the SAS pair went for a close quarter clinch. The two men on top swayed, pulling at each other. Flynn had no idea what happened, but suddenly, he was on the ground, part of a four man skirmish.

They broke apart and looked to Fletcher for a result.

‘This is a first,' he announced. 'It was impossible to tell who hit the ground first, so I’m declaring a tie in this event.'

With Fletcher’s announcement, Summer joined the crowd which was whooping and hollering their approval. Hall elbowed his way through, ignoring the jeers of his former outfit. Aiming a vicious look towards Flynn, he and his team left the arena. The crowd parted, and she was in direct line of sight with Flynn.

Bloody and bruised, he looked like a conquering warrior. A shiver of excitement passed through her. As if sensing it, his eyes narrowed, and he stalked towards her, accepting congratulations as he moved though the well-wishers but never breaking eye contact.

'You won,' her voice sounded husky to her ears. She wiped her damp palms on her fatigues, unable to stop staring at him.

'Aye,' he said.  ‘Let’s get out of here.’

He hurried her past the supply tent and in the shelter of one of the abandoned houses; he cupped the back of her neck with his palm and drew her towards him.

He claimed her with that kiss. She lost herself in it, and when he released her, she had to struggle to remember where she was. All her attention was on Flynn. The gold flecks in his hazel eyes were like tiny flames. She could lose herself in those eyes, spend an eternity staring into their green-brown depths and never get tired. Flynn’s breath fanned her face.

In the distance, the crowd continued to buzz with excitement, as they headed for the mess tent, but they might as well have been alone. The perfect silence at the heart of a storm. Her and Flynn. She felt that he could see right through her.

Summer’s breath hitched as a trickle of blood ran down the side of his face. 'You’re hurt.'

'Do you want to play nurse again?' His question was light-hearted, but there was an undercurrent there, barely leashed control with a promise of something more.

A memory of their one night together flashed into her head – a fully clothed Flynn taking her against the wall while she wore nothing but her heels. Her stomach clenched. This wasn’t a one-night stand. They were standing in bright sunshine in the middle of a deserted Scottish village. There was no privacy. It would be madness. The logical part of her brain flashed a warning.

She ignored it.

'Yes.'

Summer followed him through the uniformed crowd to the tent. You’re mistaken, she told herself. Nothing is going to happen. Flynn disappeared into the tent and she hovered outside. They couldn’t. Not here. He wouldn’t expect her to …

Flynn reappeared carrying a rolled-up sleeping bag and a medi-kit, which he handed to her, 'This way.'

They clambered over the broken stone wall and walked towards the shore. The sun beat down on her head. Behind them, the sound of celebration faded into the distance as the soldiers headed to the mess tent. The air was still, broken only by the sound of sea birds and waves crashing against the shore.

Flynn paused on the overgrown path to pick some small red berries. 'Wolfberry,' he said as he popped one into his mouth. They’re not quite ripe yet, but when they’re ready …'

His wicked grin told her that he wasn’t only talking about the fruit. He picked another and offered it to her. Flynn was teasing her. Well, two could play at that game. Summer opened her mouth obediently, sucking on his index finger as she took the glossy red berry from him.

Flynn groaned.

'Mmmm,' she said as the taste hit her tongue. It tasted a little like a raspberry, but with a different texture. She savoured it before she swallowed. 'It is heavenly.'

'You think so? It’s not fully ripe yet.' Flynn laughed and then his expression turned serious. 'Not really ready yet. Like …'

Summer waited for him to finish the sentence but he bent to pick some more berries, filling the pocket of his cargo pants. The man was maddening. How could he almost say something and pull away like that?

They walked on until they came to an old wooden gate and he helped her climb over it. The sandy path led down to a semi-circular cove, a small sun-trap sheltered by jagged cliffs. The afternoon sun beat down on her heavy uniform. The fabric was beginning to chafe. Why hadn’t she worn her shorts? Without the cool breeze, she would bake in this jumpsuit if she had to wear it for much longer.

Flynn picked a spot that was sheltered from the sea breeze and laid the sleeping bag on the sand. Summer looked around her. Unless someone came into the cove, they couldn’t be seen. Excitement trailed down her spine like an icy finger at the prospect of what was to come.

He pulled his sweat-stained t-shirt over his head and tossed it over a silvery-grey tree trunk, before lying down on the makeshift bed and propping himself up on his elbows. 'Take off that uniform, soldier.'

The quiet command in his tone made her reach for the zipper. Was she really going to do this? In broad daylight, only minutes away from the others. Low in her abdomen, desire unfurled like a sail in the wind.

Flynn’s eyes narrowed. 'Don’t even think of disobeying me.'

Summer ran her tongue along her lower lip, tasting the sticky residue of the berry. She reached for her zipper.

'Shoes first, then the rest, slowly.'

Summer toed off her pumps. With teasing slowness, she pulled down the zip to expose the pale lace of her bra beneath. She slid the uniform off one shoulder and then the other, all while keeping her eyes on his face.

She shimmied out of the suit and it pooled at her ankles. Stepping out of it, Summer tossed it onto the driftwood trunk beside Flynn’s t-shirt. The matching cream lace panties should have been demure but judging by Flynn’s expression, they weren’t.

'Anything else? Sir.' She added the last word, remembering when Flynn had collared her as if he owned her. Despite the warmth of the sun, she shivered.

Flynn patted the sleeping bag beside him and reached for the medical kit. 'Let’s see what we have here.'

Summer knelt, expecting him to take out something so that she could tend to his cut. She was surprised when he removed a larger packet and tore it open with his teeth. 'Tourniquet,' he announced. 'Give me your hands.'

He grasped both of her wrists in one hand and eased the tourniquet over them with the other and tightened it. 'Lie down. Arms above your head.'

She swallowed hard. This wasn’t the romantic interlude she had imagined. Flynn was in full Dom mode now. She lay back.

'Good girl,' he said. Flynn traced a path with his finger from her throat, down through the valley of her breasts before pausing at the lacy edge of her panties. 'I don’t think you’ll need these.'

He tugged them off and tossed them on top of the other clothing before turning his attention to her bra. Instead of removing it, he drew the lace away from her hardened nipples, plumping the tender flesh until he was satisfied. Reaching into his pocket he took out a handful of wolfberries. Flynn squeezed one of them, allowing the juice to drip onto her heated flesh. Summer squirmed and was rewarded with a stern look.

She held her breath as he did the same with her other breast until a trail of juice slid into the hollow between them. She clenched her teeth, trying not to move. Her hips rocked involuntarily. She wanted him, wanted his hands and mouth on her. But Flynn was mercilessly patient, taking his own sweet time to work her into a helpless frenzy. 'Please.' A tiny whimper escaped.

'As you’ve asked so nicely.' He took one nipple between his teeth and bit lightly, sending a sizzle of pleasure and pain straight to her core. Summer arched and cried out as his hot mouth seized her, stroking the tender flesh with his tongue. She fought against the desire to move her hands, wanting nothing more than to hold his head there as he sucked hungrily.

He turned his attention to her other breast, and she whimpered. It was too much. 'Flynn, I can’t, I … Please, I need to come.'

Flynn raised his head. His eyes were almost black with desire, the gold flecks glimmering. 'Not until I say and only if I say.'

He licked greedily at the hollow between her breasts, removing all traces of the wolfberry juice, before taking a meandering path along her abdomen. Summer closed her eyes, focussing on the sensation of his mouth on her skin. When he slid between her thighs, forcing them apart, she moaned. Then he was gone.