by Robin Kaye
Rich had never felt such need to connect with another human being. He always considered himself a good lover, but now it seemed that everything he’d done before this moment had just been going through the motions. Becca was different, maybe because nothing came easy with her. But the way she looked at him made it all worthwhile. Somehow he’d succeeded in breaking through the wall she built to hold everyone at a safe distance.
He kissed his way down the column of her throat, trying to keep a tight grip on the thin thread of control. He’d been doing just fine until she wrapped her legs around his waist. His cock met warmth and wetness, and it was all he could do not to thrust deep inside her. “Don’t move, baby. If you do…”
She did, and Rich found out what heaven felt like. He’d never not worn a condom. His mind screamed stop. His body screamed go, and hers was already gone, drawing him deeper into the intense wet heat. Christ, it was a damn good thing he didn’t know what he was missing all these years. Still, he clenched his jaw and pulled out.
He managed to speak. “Condom.”
“Pill.”
“Thank you, God.” He kissed her as he gave into a need so strong, so essential, any finesse he may have had evaporated with his first thrust. He took her mouth with the same need. Rich swallowed her moans and breathed the air she expelled. With each moan, each sigh, each kiss and touch, she gave him more of herself. When their eyes met, hers were so clear and open the intensity shocked him almost as much as the sense of responsibility he felt to live up to the trust she bestowed.
Becca raised her hips, arched her back, and screamed his name. The intense wet heat shocked him as every muscle in her body strained, and he lost what little control he’d held as he thrust again and again and again before he let go, and together they exploded.
He wasn’t sure how long he’d been lying prostrate on top of Becca, crushing her. Long enough for the both of them to have their breathing somewhat under control. He needed that to make sure he could speak. “Bec, if you haven’t had a relationship in two years, why are you on the pill?”
Becca opened her eye a crack. “There are a lot of reasons a woman goes on the pill other than pregnancy prevention, you know. It keeps my periods regular and light. It also helps with cramps, and lucky for you, PMS.”
“I wasn’t accusing you of anything, I was just wondering.” She didn’t look like she believed him, but she didn’t look mad either. He gathered enough energy to kiss her. Right at that exact moment, a stomach growled, but he couldn’t say whose. “One of us is hungry.”
She ran her hand down the length of his spine. “Probably both of us since the last food we ate were those biscotti.”
“Told you that was the breakfast of champions, and you didn’t believe me.” He pushed himself up onto his elbows and took a deep breath. “Dinner is going to be here any minute. I’ll bring it up just as soon as they deliver it.”
She yawned and snuggled closer. “I don’t want to let you go.”
He hissed out a breath as he pulled away, and she tightened her hold. “Babe, if you don’t eat, you’ll never be able to keep up with me.” He kissed her quick and rolled onto his side.
She rolled toward him and rested her head on her hand. “Maybe it’s you who won’t be able to keep up with me.”
Rich grabbed his pants off the floor, pulled them on, and had a hard time tearing his eyes away from the picture she made. “God you’re beautiful.”
She looked well-loved, and where some women might look disheveled and worn, Becca glowed. He wanted to jump back in bed and see who came out on top. Then his stomach growled, and hunger overtook lust. Becca sat and threw her legs over the side of the bed to join him when he stopped her. “I’ll be back with food. You keep the bed warm.”
“You don’t have to. I’m capable of going down to eat.”
“God you’re stubborn. Can’t you give a guy a chance to impress you? I went to a lot of trouble.”
She raised her chin and one eyebrow. Damn, she probably spent a year in front of a mirror practicing that look. If it didn’t make him so damn hot, it would piss him off. “Okay, not a lot of trouble, but I oughta get points for trying.” When he heard the knock on the door, he turned his back on her and went to get the food.
Becca heard Rich clanking around downstairs and realized that no matter what he’d said, she was going to see what he was up to. She pulled on a plush robe she found hanging in the bathroom and followed the noise and cursing.
When she found him searching the cabinets in the kitchen, she stayed in the shadows admiring the way his back muscles flexed as he moved. She still couldn’t get over how beautiful he was. “What are you looking for?”
He looked over his shoulder, grinned, and then scowled. “I thought I told you I’d bring the food up?” He continued his haphazard search.
She closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her cheek against his back. “Rich, if you think I’m going to follow orders, we’ve got a real problem. Now, tell me what you’re looking for, and maybe I can help.”
“Candles. I was trying to be romantic.” His tone of voice was more pissed than romantic.
Since she was still behind him, she rolled her eyes. He was such a guy. “I’ll bet they’re in the dining area. I’ll go look.”
The table was set for two, linen tablecloth, fine china, and of course, candles. The fireplace was stacked, ready for a match, and when Becca turned to take in the rest of the room, out the bay window she saw it had begun to snow—the first snow of the season. “Rich, come here. I found something.”
She heard Rich grumbling, but it stopped as soon as he stepped into the room. “I told them to put the food in the kitchen. The other guy must have set the table while I tipped the one setting out the food.” He looked at the romantic table. “I guess this is a better idea than dinner in bed.”
He came up beside her, held her close, and joined her in watching the snow. Another perfect moment in time.
Becca kissed his neck and nodded. “How about you start the fire and light the candles, and I bring in the food?” For once he didn’t argue. He was just macho enough to think that fire starting was man’s work, and she was woman enough to let him.
They ate at the table since the fillets required cutting. Of course the meat was so perfectly cooked and tender, it could have been cut with the side of a fork. Rich slid the last bite of his meat through the béarnaise sauce before finishing his asparagus and potato. Becca looked down at her remaining food. “Can you eat some more? I’m getting full.”
Rich reached over and stabbed an asparagus stalk. She just took his empty plate and exchanged it for hers and watched him dig in. He cut a bite of the meat and held it on the fork and looked as if he was about to say something then changed his mind.
“What?”
Rich chewed and shrugged. “I was just wondering if you were all right.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, you know, it can’t be easy living as an artist. I mean, there’s no steady paycheck or benefits, and without those it must be hard qualifying for loans. You probably had to put up a huge down payment for your part of the brownstone.”
She didn’t say anything. She let out a silent scream inside her head. NOOOOOO!
He wasn’t stopping. Her lungs constricted; she was unable to expel air. She inhaled just fine, but she couldn’t exhale. Panic began clawing at the edges of her consciousness.
“…I was just thinking with the market the way it is, it’s not a good time for anyone. Bec, I know you won’t ask your parents for help, so I just thought… I’ve got a pretty hefty nest egg, if you need anything.” He looked up from his food. “Now don’t go getting pissed because I offered. Just know it’s there if you need it.”
All the air that had been trapped inside rushed out with a sob. She never before felt such a sense of relief, and there was no stopping the tears. She was so embarrassed that she wanted to crawl under the table.
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Rich looked terrified. Obviously, he wasn’t comfortable with women who couldn’t control their emotions. Not that she was one of them, but at first, she thought she’d been wrong about him, and then when she realized what he was saying, it was so wonderfully sweet, the floodgates opened. All the stress she’d been holding seemed to have taken over, and well, she was a mess.
He got out of his chair and crouched down next to hers. “I’m sorry.”
She tried to speak, but it was pretty much impossible.
“Okay, I know. You want to do it yourself. Forget I said anything. It’s okay.” He drew her out of her chair and brought her to the couch in front of the fire before pulling her into his lap. He didn’t say much. He just held her until she could stop blubbering long enough to breathe.
“Almost done?”
She nodded, her wet face moving against his bare chest.
“You want to talk about this?”
She dragged a hitched breath in and straightened. “I don’t need your money, but thanks.”
“Baby, I don’t want to pry into your finances.”
“Then don’t.”
He lifted her off his lap and sat her down on the couch before he went to clear the table. Shit, she was a bitch. Here he was being so sweet, and she shut him out. It was a habit.
She followed him into the kitchen as he set the dishes in the sink. He looked as if he wanted to punch something. When he turned he stabbed her with a look. “I get it. Okay. I think you said enough.”
He turned and left her staring after him. He came right back carrying more dishes. “I love you, Bec, but you sure don’t make it easy on a man.”
He loved her? Of course he said it while he was arguing with her, but he said it.
“…I know you think you can do it all by yourself, and believe me, I admire the hell out of you. But I’m a guy, and we’re wired different. We’re built to fix things, to take care of the women we love, to provide.”
There he goes saying it again. She wondered if he even realized.
“We can’t help it. So don’t go holding the fact that I have a ‘Y’ chromosome against me. I understand your quirks. You gotta give a little too.”
“I know. I’m not used to this. I’m sorry. I said the wrong thing.”
Well, that seemed to take the wind out of his sails. “Oh, ah, okay then.”
A different kind of tension filled the space his anger occupied. She searched for something to change the subject. A chocolate dessert fondue sat on the counter all ready to go. “Why don’t we set all this up in front of the fireplace and have a picnic?”
“Okay.”
His feelings were hurt, and he’d had his ego bruised. He grabbed the fondue pot and set it on the hearth while she followed with the tray of fruits and snacks. She knew he’d be even angrier if she told him how adorable he was. Men hate it when women think they’re cute. She could just imagine what he looked like when he was a little boy getting into mischief.
He pulled her onto his lap and loosened the tie on her robe. His eyes sparkled as if he just had an amazingly naughty idea.
“Rich?”
She sucked in a lungful of air as warm chocolate dribbled onto her chest. He slid the back of the chocolate-coated spoon over her left breast and tossed it back into the pot. Oh God. Her head rolled back against his arm as he sucked her breast into his mouth and slid her off his lap onto the rug, licking, sucking, and nipping, and once he had her all cleaned off, he devoured her mouth in a chocolate-flavored kiss.
Becca couldn’t wait for her turn. She tugged on the button of his jeans, and Rich didn’t seem to mind her taking over. He let go of her long enough to scoot his pants down his legs and kick them away. He rolled back and looked shocked when she grabbed his cock with a chocolate-covered hand. She let the dribbled chocolate drip over the head of his dick, and then wrapped her hand around it and stroked the length of it, covering it with warm slippery chocolate.
Rich watched as her tongue slipped out to lick the bead of liquid that oozed over the chocolate. Chocolate and salt—it reminded her of a chocolate covered pretzel, which happened to be her next favorite thing to dip in chocolate. She slid her tongue around the head of his dick as Rich tightened the hold he had on her hair and cursed as she went down on him and gently rolled his balls in her chocolate-covered hand. By the time she finished lapping up all the chocolate, he was begging, and she couldn’t wait another second. She crawled above him, sucking in his tongue as she slid down the length of his cock. He let out a strangled cry, grabbed her hips, and all Becca could do was hold on while he went wild beneath her. She threw her head back and ground against him, sending herself over into orgasmic bliss, screaming his name.
Rich rolled them over and continued his onslaught, rolling one orgasm into another until she was hoarse from screaming. His body tensed, and with each thrust, he exploded within her, over and over, sending her into yet another orgasm as he filled her.
“Bec, baby, are you okay?”
Becca snuggled closer to his heat, and when she moved she groaned. Her eyes shot open when he moved too, and his dick jumped within her. “Okay, you win.” Her voice was rough with sleepiness. “I can’t keep up with you.”
“It’s not a competition, baby. Just relax, and let me love you.” He kissed her softly, stealing her thoughts as he made slow, lazy love to her. She’d never done that, just loved someone because she wanted to be close, not striving for completion, just trying to make her lover feel good. It was nice: long, slow kisses, the warm fire crackling beside them. Before long she was sighing, and then she was wanting, and then demanding, and then, oh God, she was coming again and again.
She heard Rich’s voice as if it was echoing from far away. “Come on, Bec. Don’t fall asleep. There are two perfectly good beds upstairs, and I’ll be damned if we aren’t going to sleep in at least one of them.”
“Hmm?” Becca pried her eyelids open. She had no idea how long she’d been sleeping. “Sorry.”
He pulled her up beside him, wrapped her in the warm robe, and led her to bed.
Rich slid out from beneath Becca without waking her and tiptoed down the steps to call the main house and order breakfast.
First, Rich needed caffeine and searched the cabinets for instant coffee, though the only coffee in the pantry was the real stuff, and he had absolutely no idea what to do with that.
Rich called the main house and tucked the phone under his chin.
“Good morning. This is Melody. I hope you had a nice night Mr. Ronaldi. What can I do for you?”
“You wouldn’t be able to talk me through making a pot of coffee, would you?”
“Certainly, but I’d be happy to run a pot over if you wish.”
“No, thanks, I’d really like to know how to do it myself, if you don’t mind. Then maybe, just to be safe, you could bring a pot over with breakfast.”
Rich tucked the phone between his ear and his shoulder and followed the detailed instructions. In less than a minute the coffee machine was making coffee machine noises, which he took as a good sign. It didn’t hurt that it looked like coffee and smelled like coffee. He gathered cups he found in the cupboard and took Melody’s suggestion and filled them with the instant hot water from the dispenser at the sink. She said it would take the chill off the cups. Rich was impressed because who thinks of shit like that?
Melody was probably used to clueless men, so she told him where to find the breakfast tray and coffee carafe, and said that a bowl of fresh fruit salad was in the refrigerator.
He leaned into the refrigerator and found the bowl. “There’s yogurt there and some fresh mint. Just put a dollop on top of each serving and top it with a sprig of fresh mint. That should hold you over until breakfast arrives.”
“Thanks, it looks great.”
“When would you like us to serve breakfast?”
“Can you give us about an hour?”
“Certainly, Mr. Ronaldi.”
Rich thanked
her and figured fruit salad was a real improvement over a bag of biscotti. He found some green stuff that looked like weeds in the refrigerator. He sniffed it, hoping to hell it was mint. It smelled like chewing gum. Definitely mint. He dished out two bowls of fruit, plopped a heaping spoonful of yogurt on top, and stuck a few leaves on it. It looked pretty. After draining the hot water from the coffee cups, he set them next to the carafe of coffee and the fruit salad, and headed out. Spoons, shit. He turned back to grab a few spoons and napkins before retracing his steps.
When Rich walked in, Becca hadn’t moved. He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face; he’d really worn her out. Setting the tray on the bedside table, he poured the coffee before sitting beside Becca and pressing his face into the crook of her neck. He took a deep breath. God, she always smelled so good. “Becca, wake up.”
“Mmmm.”
The sheet fell to her waist as she sat up, shot him a beautiful sleepy smile, raised her arms, and stretched. Rich held back a groan.
“I smell coffee.”
He ignored his hard-on, threw his feet up on the bed, pulled her against his chest, handed her a coffee, and then picked up his own.
She took a sip and smiled. “God, Rich, if you made coffee like this, I’d be in serious danger of falling madly in love with you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, but believe me, you have nothing to worry about.”
“Nope, I’m not worried in the least.”
She cocked a brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He took another sip of the rather amazing coffee—if he did say so himself—as he watched her mind whirl. She raised her chin—a sign she was getting her panties in a twist, not that she wore any, but it was his experience that women were more than capable of getting their panties in a twist even when said panties were hanging off a lampshade as hers were.
He grinned. “I think it means that I love you, and you’re in serious danger of falling head over heels in love with me.”