The Fling. Stefanie London

for pleasure—all broad shoulders and strong arms. I know he was packing something hefty behind that towel last night. I imagine him on top of the covers looking every bit like something I’d hope to find waiting for me at the end of a long day—hooded eyes and a wicked smile and a hard cock.

      “Well, my plan was to have a drink and a chat and a kiss.” I close my eyes and let myself sink into the fantasy. “I wanted to see how you kiss, because that’s a sure-fire way to tell if a guy’s good in bed.”

      “Did you have concerns that I don’t know how to use my tongue? If so, you’d be wrong.”

      Ah, so he’s cocky. I’m not surprised and I kind of like it—he’s a man who doesn’t mince words. He’s firm in his opinions and beliefs. He’s a man of conviction, especially in himself.

      “That’s for me to decide, Mr. Suit. Not for you to tell me.”

      The dark chuckle that vibrates through the line sends goose bumps skittering across my skin.

      “Now, if I’d decided you were a good kisser, I was going to lead you into the shower.”

      “The shower, huh?”

      “Not my apartment, remember? I can’t bring a guy into my friend’s bed. And truth be told... I love being fucked in the shower.” When he moans, I squeeze my thighs together. “I love the water running over my skin, and the way the tiles feel cold against my palms as I brace myself. I love being clean and dirty at the same time.”

      “I think you’re dirty to the bone, Blondie. No shower is going to fix you up.” He grunts. “And bloody hell it’s sexier than anything.”

      I’m warm now and I push the blanket back, letting the cool air prickle over my skin. I wish he was here, hands on my thighs while he lowered those full lips to the pulsing spot between my legs. “I would have invited you into the shower, stripped down while you watched and climbed in to give you a show.”

      “Like on the balcony.” His breath comes a little quicker now.

      “Just like that, but with no T-shirt and no underwear so you could see every part of me.” I pause, making him wait for one heartbeat. Then two. Three. I’ve got him hooked. “I’d give you a show and get myself all warmed up for you. Then I would have told you to strip down and join me.”

      “What then?”

      “I’d tell you to get on your knees and show me how you use that tongue.”

      “Fuck,” he grunts. “I bet you taste sweet as honey. I would have loved feeling those beautiful thighs clamp around my head.”

      Now it’s my turn to stifle a moan. Having a big, strong man on his knees for me is my personal catnip. I love a guy who enjoys oral sex—both giving and receiving. Like I said, orgasms for everyone.