The Pleasures of Summer

by Evie Hunter

  Summer was glad she was kneeling down. She wasn’t sure if her legs would have held her up. The door opened and she had no place to hide.

  ‘Do you make a habit of riffling through everyone’s luggage, or just the stuff belonging to the hired help?’

  Flynn’s eyes narrowed and she wasn’t sure if it was disapproval at finding her with enough weapons to start a small war, or the fact that she was showing quite a lot of leg. She itched to tug her short skirt down but she gritted her teeth and suppressed it. She was more than a match for Flynn and this wasn’t the time to show weakness. ‘Were you planning to rob a bank this weekend?’

  A grin quirked his mouth before he broke into a genuine smile, softening the harsh planes of his face. ‘No. If I were robbing a bank, I would have brought the C4. It’s quicker,’ he said.

  ‘What’s C4?’

  ‘My favourite explosive,’ he said with a grin.

  ‘So all of this is for me?’ Summer stroked the dark metal barrel, pleased when she caught a trace of nervousness on his face.

  ‘All for you, darling.’ The face was stern again, the hint of humour gone.

  She didn’t know what to say. A small shiver raced down her spine. Flynn had guns. This wasn’t a joke any longer. Her dad was gone, and she was stuck here with Action Man. This was so not happening. She scrambled to her feet and brushed past him. ‘Just keep them out of sight,’ she said brusquely.

  The alarm alerted Flynn when the first car arrived at the outside gate. ‘Who is it?’ he demanded.

  ‘Er, it’s Maya and Natasha,’ an uncertain voice replied. ‘This is Dunboy House, isn’t it?’

  Through the CCTV camera, he could see two blondes in an open-top red Mercedes. One was touching up her lipstick in the rear view mirror. The driver was looking around as if she had no idea where she was.

  He took a photo of the car’s number plate and pressed the button to open the gate.

  Summer rushed downstairs when the coupe swerved to a halt in a spray of gravel, and the two girls climbed the steps to the front door. ‘Natasha, Maya, I’m so glad you made it.’

  They squealed in delight at the sight of her and waved twin jeroboams of Moët. ‘Party time.’

  Yep, they were a pair of airheads, no doubt about that.

  The first bottle was barely open when the next car arrived. It was a muscle pick-up truck with Australian flags all over it. The sounds of a Muse guitar riff preceded the two men inside. Summer rushed out to welcome them, followed by Airhead One and Two. ‘Mike, Gavin, I’m so glad you made it.’

  Mike, the big blond, lifted her off the ground and spun her around, kissing her loudly and enthusiastically. ‘My gorgeous girl, you’re looking better than ever.’ He gave her another loud kiss before he put her down. Flynn decided he didn’t like this guy at all.

  The second man, equally big but with shaggy dark hair and a tan so dark his white shirt looked electric, gave Summer a quick hug and she pulled his head down to kiss his cheek. ‘Gavin, when did you get to be such a stranger?’ She dragged both men into the drawing room without making any effort to include Flynn in the group.

  He took a quick look around the pick-up truck, checking it over, before he followed them inside.

  Summer was busy getting everyone drinks, directing one of the staff to carry bags upstairs, and making introductions. She was a practised hostess with a knack for putting people at ease. Except him.

  The gate alarm alerted him to more visitors. He checked the camera and saw a green Jaguar outside. ‘Who is it?’ he asked.

  ‘Robert Fielding and Molly Ainsworth,’ said a female voice. ‘Summer is expecting us.’

  ‘Wait there.’ He’d had no warning about this. Summer had questions to answer.

  ‘Oh yes, didn’t I mention them?’ Summer said innocently, but the quiver in her voice gave her away. This was why she had been on edge all day. ‘They’re old friends.’

  With Summer vouching for them, Flynn let them in, but he was going to check them out later.

  These visitors were a surprise. Molly Ainsworth was a petite sprite, with a pixie crop and pointed chin. She bubbled with nervous energy and hugged Summer enthusiastically. ‘I can’t believe we are finally here. The traffic was terrible.’ Her smile lit her face, revealing dimples in her cheeks.

  Robert Fielding was tall, at least six foot two, with wide shoulders and a swimmer’s body. He was poised and confident, with an aura of power and old money. He even dressed like old money, in a navy blazer which set off his fair hair and blue eyes.

  He shook Summer’s hand formally. ‘Miss O’Sullivan, it’s a pleasure to meet you.’

  ‘You mean, meet me again, don’t you?’ Summer said. ‘You can’t have forgotten about Hickstead?’

  He gave her a half bow. ‘Of course.’

  Summer led them into the drawing room with Flynn bringing up the rear. ‘Come on, everyone; let’s have some drinks before dinner.’

  Summer was relieved that Flynn stayed out of her way as she checked the kitchen and put the final touches to dinner. Although she had been her father’s hostess for years, she had never been so nervous. It was vital that she impress Robert Fielding. Molly said that he loved good food so she had agonized over the menu. But by the time she had quaffed her second glass of champagne she was no longer worried.

  Robert was handsome, and there was definitely something about him. An air of command? An expectation that he would always get his way? Something that made her shiver. Or perhaps it was just that she knew he was a Dom. Her first real-life Dom. Just like the ones in the novels she downloaded to her Kindle.

  They took their places at the table. Annoyingly, Flynn, who hadn’t bothered to turn up for the pre-dinner drinks, arrived at the last minute and insisted on sitting beside her. She gulped another mouthful of champers.

  The plates were presented to oohs and aahs of delight from the girls. Ravioli of Cornish crab, slivers of artichoke heart and a lemongrass sauce.

  It was beautiful – and tiny. Barely a mouthful of food decorated the oversized plates. After the previous evening when he had grumbled about the salad, Summer was suddenly nervous about Flynn’s reaction to the starter. He didn’t disappoint her. Picking up the single ravioli between his fingers, he popped it into his mouth and swallowed it whole. Gavin and Mike followed suit with hoots of laughter.

  Affronted, Robert glared at them and proceeded to cut into his parcel of pasta, pronouncing it perfectly al dente. He savoured the sauce like a connoisseur. Summer was relieved when the plates were collected and hoped that the next course was ready. Plaisirs du Mer – wild brill, oyster, scallop, shaved cucumber and wasabi.

  The confection arrived in an exquisite tower and she felt a small thrill when Robert’s eyes lit up.

  ‘What’s the green stuff?’ Gavin asked.

  ‘That would be the salad,’ Mike replied, eying the single leaf of chervil. There was another guffaw of laughter and Summer glared at them.

  ‘Mmm, green,’ Flynn said with relish. He swiped his index finger through the tiny green mound and raised it to his lips.

  ‘Don’t.’ The word was out of her mouth before she could stop it. ‘It’s hot.’ She tried to sound reasonable. ‘No sense in burning yourself.’

  She forced a smile. Secretly, she would have been happy if Flynn had eaten the whole dish of wasabi. She hoped that he might spend half the night in the loo. It might keep him out of her way for a while.

  Ignoring her, he sucked his finger without a hint of discomfort. The elegant fish course was speared and swallowed in seconds. When Gavin asked for a beer, Flynn announced that he had some cooling in the kitchen. She took a deep breath and tried not to glare at him.

  Robert carefully dissected his fish into individual pieces before placing them into his mouth one by one. ‘I see you like a little spectacle, Summer. I admire a woman who uses her imagination.’

  She heard what sounded suspiciously like a snort of laughter from the chair beside hers and she
ignored it. Flynn was so going to pay for this.

  Natasha clapped her hands when the main course was presented. Roasted fillet of rosé veal. Summer wouldn’t admit that she didn’t like veal.

  Gavin swigged his champagne as if it was water. ‘A bit of meat for the guys. About time.’

  Summer could have cheerfully stabbed him with a fork. She sliced into the meat and pushed it around her plate, pretending to eat. She hated to think of the baby calves being taken away from their mothers.

  ‘Not hungry?’ Flynn asked before spearing her veal and popping it onto his own plate.

  Robert stared speculatively at them. ‘I didn’t realize that you were –’

  ‘Her boyfriend,’ Flynn countered without blinking.

  ‘I was going to say hungry.’ Robert laughed at his own joke. Fuelled with champagne, Mike and Gavin joined in.

  The evening was turning into a disaster. How dare Flynn act like this? And Mike and Gavin were almost as bad. A pair of drunken … Australians.

  It was bad enough that Flynn had barely left her side all evening, but to announce that he was her boyfriend? She glanced across the table at Robert. If she made a scene now and admitted Flynn was really her bodyguard, she could kiss her invitation to Noir goodbye. With an angry swish of her napkin, Summer stood up. ‘Dessert will be served on the terrace.’

  4

  A knock came on the bedroom door. ‘Are you decent?’

  ‘No. But I’m dressed,’ Summer replied. ‘Come on in.’

  Molly surveyed the opulent bedroom and whistled. ‘Wow, I thought our room was fab but this is … wow.’

  Summer glanced around her at the antique furniture, the pristine bed linen and heavy silk drapes. Her father had spared no expense in the renovation and decoration of the property. She supposed it was ‘wow’ if you didn’t sleep in it every night. She patted the bed beside her. They chatted so often online that it was hard to believe that she hadn’t seen Molly since they left college. ‘So, tell me about Robert. I want to know everything, you dark horse.’

  Molly giggled as she sat down. ‘I know. I still can’t believe it. Isn’t he gorgeous?’

  ‘I’ll say, and is he really a … you know?’

  ‘A Dom? Oh yes.’

  ‘You can’t just say “oh yes” and stop. I want details. How did you meet him?’

  ‘We met at Noir. You know, the club I told you about –’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Well, I did a scene with him.’

  A scene. Summer was torn between wanting to know every intimate detail and being afraid to ask. ‘What kind of scene?’

  ‘Oh, nothing crazy.’ Molly shrugged. ‘I’m no rope bunny and Robert isn’t into humiliation or anything. I mean, as if.’

  Summer nodded as if she understood. What the hell was a rope bunny? ‘Of course you’re not.’

  ‘Anyway, I was at the bar watching the latex boys – some of them are really buff – and then Robert came over and we started chatting.’

  Chatting. That was it? It didn’t sound any more dangerous than a night out in Chelsea. When was Molly going to get to the good stuff?

  ‘And then Robert said, “You’d look stunning on the St Andrew’s Cross.” So I followed him to the main play area.’

  Molly’s eyes misted and she patted her chest. ‘Oh. My. God, it was so intense. I mean, I’d never done a public scene before. With all those people looking at me. I thought that I wouldn’t be able to …’

  ‘To what?’ Summer asked, impatient for her to get to the point.

  ‘To go into subspace.’

  Summer sat up. She didn’t care if her mouth was hanging open. Subspace. She had thought that whole thing about submissives going into a trance state during a scene was just a myth. ‘And did you?’

  ‘Oh, yeah.’ Molly lay back on the bed and stretched her arms over her head.

  Summer was about to beat her if she didn’t share soon. Molly was describing BDSM nirvana. ‘And?’ she prompted.

  ‘Well, I suppose subspace is a bit like being stoned. You know when you’re really shit-faced and you see some perfectly ordinary thing, and it, like, suddenly becomes the most fascinating thing in the universe?’

  ‘Um, no.’ Summer had never bothered with drugs. She had seen enough junkies in the streets when she was at college. No one wanted to look like one of those Shaun of the Dead creatures, did they?

  ‘I mean, I don’t think I had an actual conversation with anyone. Robert kept asking me if I was okay. But all I could do was giggle. Then he started laughing too and told me that I was his best little girl.’ She rolled over. ‘That was when I knew.’

  If Summer had a sharp stick, she would have used it to poke Molly. ‘Knew what?’

  ‘What I was. What I’ve been looking for all my life. I mean, Robert just seemed to understand exactly what I needed.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘To belong to him.’

  Summer hadn’t expected that. ‘Belong to him? You mean like you’re his slave?’

  ‘Oh no.’ Molly was horrified. ‘It’s way more than that. Robert knows me. I mean, it’s like having the best boyfriend ever. He just wants to take care of me all the time. He even tells me when to go to bed.’

  ‘Right,’ Summer said. That sounded worse than her dad.

  ‘Isn’t he wonderful? And the sex is just …’

  ‘Yes?’ Summer perked up. Finally Molly had something interesting to say.

  ‘Amazing. You have no idea. Multiples of multiple orgasms every night. God, I’m exhausted from coming.’

  ‘Really?’ Summer hated to admit it, but she hadn’t had a boyfriend since the debacle with Adam. She shuddered at the memory of how close she had come to marrying a fortune-hunting weasel. Her attempts to get back in the game afterwards had all been a bust. She had even struck out with the gorgeous Mike that night at the club. Maybe it was time for a re-match.

  Molly grabbed her hand. ‘You have to talk to him. Robert is so interested in getting to know you. It’s all he’s spoken about since he got here.’

  She wasn’t sure if she liked the sound of that. She could just imagine Flynn’s disapproving scowl if he discovered what she was planning. ‘I will. It’s just that …’

  ‘You haven’t changed your mind about Noir, have you? I was so looking forward to showing you around.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, I’m really looking forward to it, but what should I wear?’ The idea of Flynn following her around the stores while she was shopping for fetish wear was terrifying.

  Molly giggled. ‘As little as possible. Half the members wear next to nothing. Some boots, a collar and chain …’

  ‘You better be joking.’

  ‘Relax, Summer. You’ve got a great body. It will be such fun. Do you remember that time in Grafton Street when we posed naked for that PETA protest? You weren’t so shy then.’

  Summer laughed at the memory. A dozen students posing outside one of Dublin’s top department stores to protest about the furs displayed in the window. They had been marched into the back of a Garda van and taken to the local station. Her dad had a fit when he heard. ‘And then you had a date with one of the guards later?’

  Molly dissolved into laughter and then stopped suddenly when she caught a glimpse of her watch. ‘Oh, I am so late. Robert will be cross. And I haven’t asked you about your new boyfriend or your dad yet. How are things with him?’

  Summer didn’t know where to start. She had felt like slapping Flynn for his stupid remark at dinner, but she hadn’t wanted to make a scene in front of Robert. She couldn’t let Flynn mess up her trip to Noir. Everyone would think she was an idiot if she had a bodyguard trailing around after her in a fetish club.

  ‘Please don’t tell Robert, but Flynn’s not really my boyfriend. He’s just a bodyguard Dad employed. You know what he’s like – same old Dadzilla. I hope it won’t affect Saturday night?’

  Molly winked. ‘Don’t worry, my lips are sealed. We’ll find some way of di
tching him for the evening. I meant to ask. How have you been since …’

  ‘To be honest, I’m really fed up. I haven’t had a job for almost a year.’ Even now, the memory of being hauled into HR and dismissed still hurt. Summer shrugged the memory away. ‘I asked Dad about joining the airline – he always promised I could work for him when I finished my MBA and I was the only one in my class who studied Transportation and Logistics. But none of that seems to matter now. Every time I mention it, he just tells me not to worry about working.

  ‘All he wants me to do is host dinner parties for him and look pretty. I don’t know why I thought that things would be better when I got back from Vietnam.’

  A flash of sympathy crossed Molly’s face. ‘You went on honeymoon on your own? I mean, ouch, Summer. Why didn’t you just cancel it?’

  Summer shrugged. ‘I needed to get away from here. I couldn’t face people. You know. Not after … everything. Anyway, you better go. Robert’s waiting.’

  Sliding off the bed, Molly straightened her skirt and glanced at her reflection in the mirror. She ran her hand through her short, spiky hair. ‘Do you have any lippy?’

  ‘Top drawer.’ Summer watched Molly repair her make-up. Her friend had changed so much since college and she wasn’t sure if she approved. The thing with Robert sounded both scary and fascinating. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to belong to someone like that. There was no way that she would let a man make decisions for her. How could she bear the loss of independence?

  Molly smoothed on some lip-gloss and smiled at her reflection. ‘Promise me you’ll chat with Robert?’

  ‘I will, I promise.’

  After Molly left, she lay on the bed, thinking. Her friend was right: if she wanted to go to Noir, she had to talk to Robert. But how was she going to manage it with Flynn watching her every move? It was a wonder he hadn’t insisted on moving into her room.

  Her mouth curved in a smile. Mike and Gavin. Surely they could distract him for a little while. Maybe they could talk to him about rugby or something. Pleased with her decision, she slipped off the bed and riffled through her wardrobe. Just what did one wear for an interview to join a fetish club?