Flying by Megan Hart Read Free Book Online Page A

white teeth. Curly black hair cropped close to his head. His suit is expensive, and so is his watch.
    “Lavinia.” It’s the name of one of the characters in her book.
    “Pretty name. Unusual.” Daryl looks up at the waiter. “I’ll have a coffee and a piece of cherry pie. Vanilla ice cream. And the lady will have...?”
    “The same,” she decides without looking to see what other delights she might be missing on the dessert menu. “Cherry pie’s my favorite.”
    Daryl is in town for a week to meet with clients, for a business he doesn’t describe and Stella doesn’t ask about. He comes to Minneapolis a few times a year, always stays at this hotel because of how easy it is to get to the airport and also, of course, the gambling. “Do you gamble, Lavinia?”
    “Sometimes. I’m not much for poker or blackjack, but I do like to play the slots. This pie is amazing, great choice. And thank you, by the way.” Stella drags her fork through the thick, sweet cherry goo and licks it, watching Daryl’s gaze follow the flicker of her tongue.
    “How about craps?”
    She smiles. “Don’t you have to be lucky to win?”
    “You have to be lucky to win at anything.” Daryl’s smile leaves crinkles in the corners of his eyes that Stella likes very much.
    She leans toward him. “Tell me, then. Do you feel lucky?”
    “Oh,” Daryl says, leaning too, “I surely hope so.”
    She lets him take her to the casino, and she lets him press a hundred dollars’ worth of chips into her hand. She also lets him put his arm around her as they take their place at the craps table, and when he asks her to blow on the dice for him, she does that too. Stella has never considered herself lucky, but Daryl wins. And wins again.
    Soon the whole crowd is chanting her name—well, not her real name, but the one she gave him. And when finally his streak ends, he pulls her into his arms and kisses her in front of the crowd as though they’re lovers and not strangers. He’s a very good kisser, and Stella doesn’t mind. Not at all.
    “Lucky Lavinia,” Daryl says into her ear, his hands settling on her hips to pull her close. “You wanna get out of here?”
    They go to his room, and he offers her a drink, but she declines.
    “Not a drinker.” Daryl nods. “I remember now. I could order us something from room service, if you’ve got a craving for something sweet.”
    That’s not what she’s craving, and she answers him by stepping again into his embrace and offering her mouth. Daryl kisses her slowly, palming her ass and grinding her a little against the growing bulge of his crotch. When he moves his mouth to her throat, Stella lets her head fall back with a small sigh.
    “You like that?” Daryl nips a little, sending shivers of delight all through her. “Yeah. I thought so.”
    Her nipples are tight and hard, her cunt aching. She wants to run her hands all over him, but steps back instead. “Do you have protection?”
    She does, if he doesn’t. She always does. But a man who expects to fuck without bothering to buy the condoms isn’t worth even the small amount of time she’s prepared to give him.
    “Yeah.” Daryl tugs at his tie and the buttons of his shirt, exposing his smooth dark skin. “I’ll take care of you, don’t you worry.”
    Stella tilts her head to look him over. “You do this a lot, Daryl?”
    “I travel a lot.” He gives her a nice once-over. “You do this a lot, Lavinia?”
    It’s a fair question. Her fingers inch up her hem, little by little. For another man, she might play coy or even lie, but she and Daryl seem to have an understanding. “I do it enough.”
    His warm, full-throated laugh settles between her thighs. “Good. Just so I know where I stand.”
    It’s good for them both to know. She curls her fingers in the fabric of her dress, easing the hem higher. Daryl watches her. At the slide of his tongue over his full lower lip, her clit pulses.
    “Why don’t you get out of that shirt?” she