Wellington Series 2

by Kris Pearson

  Cody’s answering grin faded slowly as he rose from the bed. Mel looked as hot in the bright light of morning as she had in the magic moonlight. The girl he’d lusted after for years was no longer a fantasy. Last night had been everything he’d imagined, and so much more.

  He remembered Mel across the dinner table at The Dolphin—graceful in that shiny green dress. Mel walking beside him on the uneven wharf planking, pressed warmly to his side. Her inquisitive hand exploring his pants. Her gasp of surprise as he returned the compliment in the dense shadow of the truck. Her hot mouth and playful fingers out of sight below the car’s roof as she sucked him off.

  And then Mel after they’d locked the front door. Blue eyes huge with desire, dress gone and lingerie peeled away to reveal fragrant skin as smooth as satin; firm high breasts he’d only imagined until then; and her glistening succulent pussy.

  Mel on the table, legs spread.

  And none of those scenes was doing his morning hard-on any good.

  He ambled into the ensuite bathroom and came face to face with himself in the huge mirror; a man who’d just spent an entire night fucking his brains out, and who looked surprisingly ready and able to do it again.

  He speared his hands back through the spikes of his mussed-up hair and then stretched his arms above his head to work the kinks out of his spine. Not a bad looking dude, he decided, regarding his tall body with its hard planes and long streamlined muscles.

  Mel thought he was okay. She wanted kids who looked just like him. Well, not kids with a boner like the one currently bobbing around in the mirror—damn near vertical and veering slightly to the left. He gave it a half-hearted push and it sprang up again and whacked him on the belly.

  But she didn’t want him—she’d made that more than clear. Didn’t see him as husband material. Didn’t want him around any longer than she needed him. Didn’t want her kids to carry his name. He compressed his lips, surprised to feel offended.

  Regretful, even.

  Well, there weren’t going to be any kids, so that took care of that.

  He reached across to turn on the shower mixer. Hot as he could bear it to start with. He’d decide later if he needed to turn it down to cold.

  He stood under the torrent of water and lathered himself all over with the girly pink body wash that seemed to be the only thing on offer. Geez, he was going to smell like a bunch of flowers—just right for the wedding run. If there was ever a next time he’d bring some decent soap. Something that smelled like a man.

  ***

  Melanie started coffee brewing in the gleaming chrome machine on the polished black granite counter and walked through to reclaim last night’s clothing from beside the front door. She blushed, even though she was alone. That had been a hell of a scene.

  Cody stripping her dress off. Teasing her out of her underwear. Driving her wild with his mouth. Giving her an orgasm which blew her brain and body apart and shook her clean out of her shoes.

  She’d not expected so much so soon, but he’d been more than ready to play. And later? He’d made love to her with passion and tenderness and laughter. Upstairs in her bedroom he’d been better than her most vivid fantasies. Demanding and giving in equal measure. Ferocious, intense, and so damned sexy. Nothing had been out of bounds—he’d been willing to share anything; anything except the child she craved so fiercely. That thought caught at her heart.

  She set her sandals on the lowest stair and carried her washing out to the laundry. It was summer in the southern hemisphere, with Christmas a week away and the end of the business year only a few days distant. CustomAir’s charters would soon cater only to a few high-end holiday travelers. Mel deliberately kept the bookings low so staff could take leave with their families over the festive season.

  What would the holiday bring for her? More time to continue her campaign with Cody?

  Andrew was due home from Thailand around the end of the year but she had no idea if he’d fly direct to Wellington, wanting to sponge off her, or stop at Cynthia’s home in Auckland expecting all expenses paid luxury. More likely the latter. But their mother was currently in Prague producing something of Ibsen’s, so he might be out of luck there.

  He’d certainly be out of luck if he expected Mel to turn on a warm welcome. Andrew had fleeced their parents for as many thousands as he could, and then blamed his ‘bad luck’ on them when his funds ran out. He’d been smuggling cocaine, for God’s sake. He’d brought disgrace on his family and his country, and shown no remorse for any of it. Their special twin bond had been shattered.

  She gave a small twisted smile as she returned to the coffee maker and leaned a hip against the counter, inhaling the rich aroma of perfectly roasted beans. She needed to tell Cody more about her shameful brother, and soon.

  She trod up the deeply carpeted stairs, carrying a mug of coffee in each hand. She heard no water running. Had Cody finished his shower, or was he waiting for her to rinse him down?

  She entered the bathroom on silent feet. He stood turned away from her, toweling his hair. Mel stopped, felt her pulse rate shoot sky high, and enjoyed the sight of a prime male in all his potent glory.

  The white bath towel contrasted starkly with his tanned skin. The muscles of his arms and shoulders tensed and flexed as he rubbed at his hair. His long lean back led down to narrow hips.

  She set the mugs down and resisted the temptation to goose his gorgeous butt. His skin shone paler there, the flesh trim and taut above his long, strong legs. No wonder he always looked sensational in his pilot’s uniform.

  “Coffee, sir?”

  He swung around to face her and dropped the towel to hide his groin.

  “I’ve already seen that little number,” she grinned.

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “What’s with the ‘little’?”

  “What’s with the sudden modesty?” she countered, reaching for the towel. His body looked so beautiful she had to touch him. She stroked the towel over his chest and down his belly. Then she took each of his hands in turn, lifted his arms, and patted along them as he stood with them extended.

  “Turn,” she instructed in a voice that wasn’t quite steady, thrilled he’d hold still for her and let her admire him so obviously. The big mirror only improved the view.

  She reached up to dry his shoulders, rubbed down the length of his back, and pinched one firm creamy cheek before she stroked the towel over his butt.

  “You’re asking for trouble again, woman,” Cody growled, tugging the sash of her robe undone and pushing the fabric back off her shoulders.

  “There’s not time,” she said with regret.

  “Just keeping things mutual here, Mel. I want to enjoy you while you’re checking me out. Only fair.”

  She crouched down, toweling his hard muscular thighs and calves and long sexy feet—feeling very tempted to bite his butt, and considering what now hung level with her face.

  “Turn,” she repeated, more breathless this time. “Feet apart.”

  Cody obeyed, looking down as she looked up. Mel knew her nipples had hardened as she dried him off; knew also he’d enjoy her giveaway condition.

  She kneeled and leaned in between his legs, kissing his balls. “Why won’t you let me have some of your goodies?” she whispered. She parted her lips and sucked at his heavy-hanging testicles until she had them totally enclosed in the heat of her mouth. She probed with her tongue, sliding against the mysterious magic shapes inside their soft sac.

  Cody eased his legs further apart and fisted his hands in her hair. He stayed silent, allowing her to do as she wished. Mel closed her eyes and concentrated. She could feel his balls moving slightly—she hadn’t expected that. And then she sensed them slowly descending as her warmth relaxed him. She pulled down, sucking harder, wondering if she could make him hang lower and look even sexier than he already did.

  Above her, unseen, she heard Cody breathe out.

  How did it feel for him. Good? He wasn’t complaining. Dangerous? Her teeth wer
e clamped right around him.

  Maybe he liked danger? He was a flier—of course he was used to risks. She pressed her face closer, sucking every fraction of him in so her tongue had no room to move and it felt as though he might slip down her throat. Her nose pushed hard against the base of his cock. He smelled of her shower gel—and the thrilling scent of turned on man. She breathed deeply, eyes closed.

  Finally she set him free and leaned back just far enough to look at her handiwork. He was dangling low—the globes now beautifully defined, suspended on corded flesh beneath a rigid dark cock pumped up to maximum again.

  “I could tie a ribbon around them like that and they’d never be able to go up again, would they?” she said. “I wonder what it would feel like if I did, and then made you come?”

  Cody’s hands tightened in her hair. His swollen cock jerked.

  Mel pursed her lips and blew cool air over him, watching as his balls retreated closer to the warmth of his body again. “Imagine if I had ice-cubes. They’d go up even faster then.”

  Cody grinned as he took the towel and wrapped it around his hips. “Ouch,” he muttered.

  “Coffee.” She rose and indicated the mugs.

  Cody seemed much more interested in her breasts. He cupped them up and ran the pads of his double-jointed thumbs over her tight nipples, smiling as she objected. He bent and suckled each in turn.

  Melanie moaned as the heavenly sensations raced to her womb and moisture slicked her folds.

  “Right, that’s got both of us ready to go again,” he said. “You’re fun to play with, Mel. How am I going to get rid of this?” He glanced down at the long ridge tenting the front of the towel.

  She smoothed her hand along him. “We’ve got time for a quickie. No condom, so you come really fast. Yes?”

  He looked daggers at her. “No.”

  She pulled a face in return. “Breakfast then, and you can solve the damn problem yourself. I can do you eggs on toast?”

  She tried to sound as though his refusal didn’t matter. Didn’t flay her to shreds after everything they’d done during the night. “Or an omelet would be quick?”

  In the big mirror she saw her breasts were now tipped with long wet bullets, stained a much darker pink than usual.

  “Look what you’ve done to me,” she whispered.

  “I could tie ribbons around you too. Wouldn’t you look pretty with bows on your boobs? But don’t worry about breakfast. I’ll grab something at home.” He reached for his coffee, and breathed in the dark aroma with appreciation.

  “You need breakfast if you’re flying.”

  “Yes Mom,” he said, and sipped.

  “Fat chance of that, the way you’re holding out on me,” Melanie retorted, hauling her robe back on and retying the sash before she picked up her own coffee. “Last night hasn’t changed you mind? About helping me have my family?”

  ***

  Cody looked away from her yearning blue eyes and shook his head. His imagined picture of her, pregnant with his child, had run through his mind repeatedly as he showered. It was an awesome power for a man to have—to change a woman’s body like that. To swell her belly and breasts. To kick-start a new life into being.

  “Because of your father?” she asked.

  “He barely deserves the title. Sperm donor would do. Mom never had any idea where he was or when he’d be back. He came and went to his own weird schedule—a few days here, a week or two there.” Cody bent his head and took another sip of coffee.

  Mel tipped her head on one side. “You never knew? I can see that would be tough.”

  “No—never had a clue if he’d gone for good or when he was likely to arrive again. Once he reappeared after months in Australia and gave me a fucking boomerang. It came back more reliably than he did.” He saw her flinch at the bitterness in his tone.

  “Better than being in prison,” she suggested.

  “He could have been, for all we knew. Mom suspected he might have other women and kids he sometimes lived with. She tried to keep that possibility from me of course.”

  “A bigamist? So how old were you when you last saw him?” She reached over and stroked his arm.

  “Nine the last time. He was a useless bastard. A charming useless bastard. We both adored him.” He shrugged with embarrassment. “How sick is that?”

  Mel bowed her head. “What happened when you were nine?”

  Cody gulped a deep breath and let it out in a rush, trying to expel the bad memories from his brain. “Mom decided she’d had enough of him blowing in when he fancied and buggering off when he pleased. She got the courage from somewhere to pack up what we could carry. Left a note for the landlord saying we’d gone for good and he could have the rest of our stuff. We shifted cities.”

  “She couldn’t stand it any longer?”

  “I guess. We’d been in Hamilton. She decided to hide out in Auckland. Very big place, Auckland. Cody Mitchell Senior never found us, or never bothered to try, more like.” He buried his face in the coffee mug to avoid looking at her.

  “Poor little boy,” Mel said, squeezing the arm she’d been stroking.

  “And I’m his spitting image,” he grated after swallowing his next sip. “Mom has this photo... you’d swear it was me. So I carry his worthless genes and I share his love of wandering. I left home the minute I could and joined the Air Force as a cadet. It wasn’t until then I found out he’d never married her. I’m the spawn of a bastard, and raised as one too. You don’t want my blood in your kids’ veins, Mel.”

  Fury took over from the sympathy in her eyes. “Don’t you dare think of yourself that way!”

  “Hard not to; the facts speak for themselves. Thirty-odd years ago it carried more of a stigma.” He turned his back on her and headed to the bedroom. “Gotta go, sweetheart. Time’s ticking by.”

  ***

  Mel watched as he rummaged about in the small pile of clothing beside the bed, hauled on his socks, stuffed his half-erect cock in his pants, and then pulled his shoes on. He tossed the remaining condom in the air, caught it deftly, and tucked it into his pocket. “One for next time if you want some more fun.” He stood looking over the harbour for a few moments, a handsome animal in his prime. The sun glanced off his taut abs and pecs.

  Mel let out a tight breath. So there would be another chance. She didn’t give a damn about his background—just wanted those tall, healthy, smart, good-looking genes planted deep inside her.

  I’ll be trying hard to get the better of you next time, Cody. We’re not done yet.

  “Your shirt and jacket are still downstairs. When did you have in mind for ‘next time’?”

  “Can’t be tonight, sorry. After the wedding run, I’m driving up the coast to stay with some mates.”

  “Tonight’s out for me too,” Mel lied, frantically counting days and calculating her fertility. “Tomorrow night’s okay. We could have those steaks I didn’t cook yet?”

  “Yeah, tomorrow if you like.” He looked so damn unconcerned she could have slapped him.

  “See you tomorrow then,” she managed. “Six o’clock or so?”

  They walked down the stairs together and turned toward the front door. The pot with the tall Kentia Palm sat on the floor, with the fur throw still draped askew on the table. Cushions and clothes littered the area.

  Cody drew a deep breath and flicked her a sideways glance. “Bring back memories?”

  Melanie grinned, and picked up the two cushions that had cradled his knees from the hard floor. “I’m sure my decorator didn’t imagine these being used so creatively.”

  “Especially this one,” he agreed, grabbing the third from the table and holding it to his nose. “I can smell your sweet little pussy.”

  “No way!”

  He dropped suddenly to his haunches, grabbed Mel around the thighs, and buried his face in her groin.

  “Can so.” He inhaled through her robe. “Woman-smells. Sexy as hell.” He ran his fingers up to cup her butt. Gave each
cheek a little squeeze. Caught the fabric of her robe in his hands, yanked the sides apart and ran his tongue the length of her throbbing folds.

  Mel swore—half surprise and half outrage. She hadn’t expected any more games, and in truth was now exquisitely tender after the long night of action following six months of celibacy. Sunday was soon enough. Sunday would be wonderful.

  Chapter Nine—Toys for Mel

  She clamped her hands onto Cody’s bare shoulders and dug her nails in hard.

  He hissed with pleasure-pain, looked up, and held her gaze. “How keen are you on customer service? We could always keep that bride waiting?”

  She smiled with regret. “Not good for business, Cody.”

  He flashed his bad-boy grin. “You’re the boss.”

  “And don’t you forget it.” She couldn’t resist adding, “Don’t forget you could be the boss, too. Part of an airline? Still sure I can’t tempt you?”

  She stared down into his dark brown eyes. The eyes she wanted her children to inherit. He shook his head, grin fading, and rose to claim his shirt.

  She bit her lip, seeing there was a long way to go before any progress was certain. While he did up his buttons, she gathered the armful of cushions and the throw, took her load into the sitting room, and tossed it onto one of the sofas. She pounded furiously at the cushions to plump them up again, working off a little frustration in the process. She returned to find Cody lifting the potted palm back onto the table.

  “Thank you. So I’m all back to normal?”

  One dark eyebrow rose. “Does it feel like that to you?”

  She shrugged. “It feels—as far from normal as it’s possible to be. I wasn’t expecting this so fast. Maybe I wasn’t expecting it at all.”

  “But it’s good to get it out of our systems, right?”

  “Yes,” she muttered, annoyed he’d describe it that way. “It was ‘inconvenient’ to have it hanging between us all this time. Easier to get it out in the open.”

  His gaze became alert and intense. “So you felt it too?”

  Was it time to be totally honest with him? She decided to take a chance. “From the moment Rob introduced us. All my warning lights came on.”