Wellington Series 2

by Kris Pearson

  They glared at each other over their menus as the bemused waiter retreated. She finally released his hand.

  Cody scanned the adjacent tables, ensuring he couldn’t be overheard. “Yes, you want me, ready to jump through hoops when you call the shots. When you’re fertile. Whether it suits me or not. How can I have any other relationship while I’m waiting to snap to attention for you?”

  “So to speak.” She tried, unsuccessfully, to stifle a cheeky grin.

  “‘Rise to the occasion’ might be safer,” he conceded with a wry smile. God, she was gorgeous. Even now, annoyed and not getting what she wanted, she had him under her spell.

  “Cody, I’m sure you’re man enough to ‘snap to attention’,” she teased, widening the tiny chink in his somber mood. “I’m simply going to assume you’ll be willing to do this for me once you’ve had time to think things over. Of course you can have other girlfriends. This won’t be a relationship—just a business arrangement. There’ll be no lovey-dovey emotional ties to mess things up. No-one else need ever know. It’ll be easy. We can use a turkey baster if you insist.” Her big blue eyes widened in invitation.

  He looked away, and sat digesting that statement for a few minutes. She waited, silent and watchful, giving him time to consider if they could make it work. No way in hell, he decided yet again. But dammit, he wanted her, and not with a turkey baster as part of the deal.

  The waiter returned with their wine, and made a production of opening it and half filling two huge glasses. Cody relaxed a little with the diversion, but once the man had departed, he shook his head, still far from convinced. “What if it turns emotional?”

  She blinked once and then held his gaze. “Oh Cody, this is us!” she cajoled. “We’ve known each other for so long as friends that it’s not going to happen. Have I ever made a pass at you? Have you ever flirted with me?” She raised an eyebrow and grinned like the girl next door she absolutely wasn’t. “I need to borrow your body, and the goodies contained therein. You won’t miss a few out of all those millions.”

  Beneath the glowing timber table top, Cody’s ‘millions’ launched into an agitated tap-dance. His body was all too willing, even if his brain refused to reach the same delicious conclusion.

  He sighed. This was his friend’s wife. His boss. Gazing at him with hopeful eyes, pupils hugely dilated.

  Surely it was just the dim lighting in the restaurant having that effect? If he pinned her down on his bed he could produce the same phenomenon; that dark eyed turned-on intensity as he brought her closer and closer to orgasm.

  Stop dreaming, man...

  He reached for his wine, and gulped a mouthful. If he ever gave in and they got together, there’d be no question of spending time pleasuring her and drawing the experience out into something long and hot and memorable. His orgasm was all that would matter. Preferably fast and potent, but he’d be cheating them both out of the miracle of mind blowing sensuality he knew was possible—and undoubtedly would be amazing with Melanie.

  He cast around for a topic to drag himself out of the sexy fantasy he’d sunk into. “The Cessna’s seats could do with tidying up.”

  “What?” she squeaked, apparently stunned by his lightning fast change of subject.

  “While we’re talking business.”

  “Were we?”

  “So you said. Just business. A business arrangement. Your own words.” His brain thrashed and pulsed, trying to banish the vivid image of Melanie, nude and responsive. “Charcoal grey maybe. That beige fabric looks a lot older than it really is.”

  “See what fun you could have if the airline was yours?” she muttered.

  Think what fun we could have making it mine, his body reminded him.

  “It’s not going to happen, Mel,” he said as the waiter returned with their entrees. “It’s not going to happen because Rob won’t let it happen. He’s sitting right on my shoulder, reminding me you’re his wife.”

  ***

  “Was his wife,” Melanie corrected, after the waiter had set down the plates and departed. “Was. Past tense. Dead and gone. However brutal that might sound, Cody, nothing’s going to bring him back. We don’t have to answer to him any longer. Just to ourselves.”

  “And we’re both old enough to know what we’re doing?”

  “I know what I’m doing,” Melanie said as a blush stole up her neck. Cody’s eyes were so black in the dim light. So black and focused on her, and surely full of desire.

  “Are you hard?” she whispered. “Are you hard now, just thinking about it?”

  “Yeah.” He didn’t flinch or look away from her—just stared right back, holding her gaze with his.

  Mel grabbed a fast, deep breath, amazed by his easy reply, even though she’d been the one who asked. God, she wished they were seated side by side so she could sneak her hand across to his lap and check him out. Feel for herself how much he wanted her. “So it’ll be easy, Cody. It’ll be easy. Your body knows it.”

  “And my brain knows if there’s a child it’ll never be acknowledged by its father—just as I wasn’t.”

  She closed her eyes briefly to banish the sight of the pain in his face. Why was he still so hurt after thirty-six years? He was a grown man, successful and handsome, able to do and have anything or anyone he desired. “It’s not the same situation, Cody. You won’t be leaving me in the lurch like your Dad did your mother. I have money, I have family, a nice house...” She trailed off, disconcerted by his implacable resolve.

  They were silent for a while as they ate.

  “Help me as a friend?” she finally asked. “Or help me as Rob’s friend? He must have told you we were trying for a child?”

  She looked away, determined not to let him see the disappointment in her eyes. She wasn’t winning yet, that was for sure. But if Cody wanted to play hard to get, that was still fine by her. One day soon she’d get him playing—hard—not hard to get. She smiled secretly at the thought, pictured him ready for action. God, he’d be gorgeous. Tall and muscular, but without Rob’s brawn.

  How many times had she seen the two men together after a dive, wetsuits stripped down to their waists, skin glistening with water? She’d loved Rob’s body—his strong build, his swaggering confidence, his fleecy blond chest.

  But Cody was masculinity refined. A little taller, somewhat leaner—with long smooth muscles, and sparser, darker body hair.

  Mel sank her teeth into her bottom lip as she remembered the whorls of hair clinging damply around his nipples. Of the way it spread out across his pecs and then arrowed down his taut belly as though pointing the way to unlimited pleasure. Right now she could picture his cock, erect and potent, ready to plunge into her. Dark skinned, smooth, vertical with lust.

  He was beautiful. He’d make fantastic babies. The most difficult part would be pretending it was a cynical, clinical process.

  ***

  Cody cleared his throat and chewed with deliberation. Yes, Rob had mentioned it often enough, and every time he did, Cody had almost smashed his friend’s gloating face in.

  It wasn’t hard to imagine fragile Mel wedged under Rob’s husky body. He’d tried to rip the images from his brain, but they were indelible—taunting and obscene. “He was keen enough on the idea of kids.”

  Or keen enough on the sex anyway. He used to boast about his ever-willing wife.

  There’d been occasions when Cody could cheerfully have killed Rob for his bedtime descriptions.

  “So you know it was important to both of us?” she persisted. “You could do it for Rob if you can’t do it for me?”

  Cody slammed his knife and fork down against the big white plate with a noisy clatter, and glared at her across the small table. At her hopeful hurt eyes and her creamy touch-me shoulders a bare arm’s length away.

  “You’ve just made it worse, Mel,” he muttered, conscious of the other diners not too far distant. “Now you’re expecting me to bed you with good old Rob right there in the room with us, cheering us on.
No way. No way in hell.”

  “‘Good old Rob’, as you call him, is dead,” she insisted through gritted teeth. “He’ll be nowhere near the bedroom. How can you imagine he would be?”

  Cody drew a disgusted breath and shook his head.

  “He’s six months dead, Cody. Dead and gone. I hoped I’d left it long enough to approach you about this?”

  “It’s not a matter of time, Mel.” His black eyes bored into hers. “Rob was a friend. He’ll always be a friend. He’ll always be your husband, in my mind.”

  ***

  Cody cursed himself as he heard what he’d said. It wasn’t true. It absolutely was a matter of time. He’d calculated that now was about right to make a cautious move on Mel, and she’d wrecked his plans and thrown everything into chaos with her offer.

  “Rob’s a hard act to follow, and I won’t be following,” he growled, staring across the table at the woman he’d wanted for three long frustrating years.

  “I’m a friend, too,” Melanie murmured.

  Those four short quiet words hung in the air between them. Even over the buzz of conversation, the clatter of plates, the sleepy jazz piano, he heard them, and something turned over deep inside.

  “Okay, you’re my friend,” he conceded, “but he was my mate.”

  She sighed. “That’s what I want to be. Your mate in the truest sense of the word. Mate me, Cody. Make me pregnant. I don’t want anything else from you. I’m not trying to trap you into marriage. This is strictly a business deal—planes for babies.”

  Cody felt the corner of his mouth twitch. It was a long way from a smile.

  “Planes for babies,” he repeated, rasping the words out as though his shoe was crushing the last spark of life from a spent cigarette. “You’re a piece of work, Mel. How can you be so cold about it?”

  He sat there looking at her, so close, so gorgeous, so damned available all of a sudden, and his resolve finally snapped.

  Christ—what will it matter? Rob’s gone, and he isn’t coming back again. I could try this my way and see if she agrees...

  He reached across the table and ran a hand up her arm just as Melanie started to speak.

  She stilled at his touch, and lapsed into silence.

  He stared her down, hating himself for what he was about to say. “If you want a bit of fun, I’m your man. But I’m not trading my kids for part of an airline. You can absolutely forget that idea, Mel.”

  ***

  Cody’s hand felt red hot against her. She looked down at his long fingers, his softly rubbing double jointed thumb. Every tiny hair on her body jerked upright, making her skin feel super-sensitized and intensely receptive. Every pore contracted, every nerve end prickled.

  “Okay,” she heard herself choke out. “Simply fun then, and I’ll see if I can change your mind... somehow… later.”

  “Not going to happen, sweetheart.”

  She nodded, now only dimly aware of the busy restaurant surrounding them; of the braying patrons and bustling waiters, the smells of food and perfume. And the salty air wafting through the open window behind her like the tickle of cool fingers on her nape.

  He could throw me on the floor right now and I wouldn’t raise a murmur of protest.

  “Fine,” she whispered.

  “Your place?”

  She nodded again, amazed he was so suddenly willing. She didn’t have what she wanted yet, but she was part way there. Maybe it was the start she needed to prize him further open?

  “Dessert?” he demanded. Now his eyes burned hot, and she saw faint flushed streaks over his cheekbones. Cody on heat. How delicious. Tastier than chocolate cheesecake any day.

  “Not if I’m having you,” she managed. Already the blood rushed to her clit, making it pout between the slick lips of her vagina. The shape of her body had changed as she sat there. This was insane—she’d never noticed the sensation before. Rob had never done that to her.

  “You’re making me feel... strange.” She looked down to her lap.

  “Strange-good or strange-bad?” Cody asked, following the direction of her eyes.

  “Strange-good of course. Can we go?”

  “Not with me like this. I doubt I can walk.”

  Melanie flicked her tongue out to moisten her bottom lip. She grinned wickedly. “Shame to waste it,” she murmured, producing her credit card, rising, and heading for the cashier. “My shout. CustomAir’s paying.”

  ***

  Cody watched her thread her way past the tables. The thin green dress skimmed her curves loosely, but as she twisted to navigate her way through the restaurant, the fabric moved against her body, highlighting the sharp tips of her breasts.

  She was as turned on as him? It was a warm evening so that was pure sexual arousal tightening her nipples. He’d be having fun tonight after all.

  Chapter Three—A Sneak Preview

  Mel was grateful when Cody slung an arm around her waist again as they bumped hip-to-hip along the rough planking toward the car. Her tall sandals skittered over the cracks but he supported her with ease, and being so close set all her senses on fire.

  It was going to happen. She and Cody were finally going to happen, and if he wasn’t willing to give her children, at least he was going to give her himself. But she refused to let him think he was calling the shots. Yes, she’d accept him as a lover, but she wanted him as a sire. She needed to unsettle him from any complacency he might be feeling.

  “Time for a sneak preview,” she murmured as they strolled under one of the big overhead lights and then passed again into shadow. In the relative darkness she slid her free hand over his trousers, found his hard hot cock, squeezed gently, then spread out her fingers to gage his length.

  Cody gave a surprised grunt but kept walking.

  Just as she’d expected, he was as impressive there as everywhere else.

  His hand joined hers to push himself into a more comfortable position, and he let her play a little longer. Just feeling him up was making her buzz between her thighs. If she had him naked she’d be holding her breath and begging.

  “Give me a sneak preview,” he demanded thirty seconds later, pulling her into a patch of darkness beside a parked truck, and hauling her flimsy dress up so he could cup his hand over the front of her panties. She knew he’d register her heat and dampness, but would he feel the small protrusion of her clitoris against his big palm?

  Oh yes… she caught his indrawn breath.

  He moved his hand in slow, luxurious circles and she parted her thighs, gasping fast and shallow, unable to hold back her small moans of pleasure.

  “No,” she heard him whisper. “You’re going to have to wait. I’m not making you come where we’ll be heard.”

  He’d pressed so close she could once again enjoy his scent—stronger than the salty smell of the ocean or the hint of diesel from the parked truck. She enjoyed a deep intoxicating draught of ‘Essence of Cody’ as he continued the slow circular massage with only the tip of one finger. Oh, he knew exactly how to please her! Soon she writhed with the delicious twitches heralding the start of her orgasm.

  She dragged in another ragged breath, poised right on the shattering edge of ecstasy.

  And he stopped. He drew his hand away and tugged her dress down.

  “Bastard!” She lurched back against the door of the truck for support.

  He gave a bitter laugh. “True. I barely knew my father.”

  Knowing she couldn’t have said anything worse, she struggled to make amends. “I didn’t mean it that way, Cody. You know I didn’t. I was so nearly there.” She groaned with frustration, and saw a flash of white teeth as he smiled in the darkness.

  “You’ll keep,” he said, resuming their walk to the parking lot. “You can imagine how good that’s going to feel all the way up the hill, and then the moment we’re inside the front door I’ll finish you off.”

  “Cody…” she groaned.

  “What—you want chocolates and roses and pretty words? It’s j
ust sex, honey. Great sex. Can’t you feel how good it’s going to be? I’ve been waiting three years for this. You’re going to come until you beg for mercy.”

  His quiet voice stroked along Mel’s nerve-ends until she shimmered all over.

  He’s wanted me for as long as I’ve wanted him?

  She continued walking, enjoying his arm around her again, and turning possible scenes over in her feverish mind.

  Okay Cody, if you want me, you’ve got me. But now you’ve dropped that little thunderbolt, you needn’t expect me to play fair.

  ***

  Cody opened the Porsche’s door for her and stood holding it while Mel slid in and sat. Before he could step back to shut it, she’d snaked her arms around him and pulled him in against the car with surprising strength.

  “Fuck!” he exclaimed, held so firmly that his chest pressed snugly against the doorframe and his gaze was fixed down on the shining roof. He froze as one deft hand explored his trousers again, located the zipper and jerked it down.

  She pushed his clothing aside and drew his rampant cock out. Cool sea air whispered over him for a second, and then she swiped her tongue over his burning flesh, lapping at him as though he was a delectable chocolate treat. She closed her lips around him and sucked.

  He grunted with shock and pleasure, and Mel wrapped both arms around him again, holding him prisoner, working him over with her hot mouth until he groaned, long and low, and stopped trying to pull away. God, he hadn’t pictured this happening yet…

  She loosened one of her hands from the stranglehold around his waist, apparently confident he’d be willing to stay leaning against the car for her.

  And hell yes—he was willing. It wasn’t how he’d imagined them getting to know each other, but he wouldn’t be complaining.

  He hitched in a fast breath as she closed her fingers around the base of his straining cock, positioned her thumb along its mid-line, and worked him unmercifully. God, that was unbelievable... He pressed against her and soaked up the sensations of her hand, her tongue, her mouth all around him as she took him deep.

  His brain swirled with sensation and indecision. Should he try and make this last longer or just give in? Mel over-rode any other possible option by making it so good that his breathing turned fast and noisy and the contractions started in his balls. He came so hard and so long that he had to bite down on his hand to stifle the hoarse gasps his ejaculation ripped from his throat.