by Brenna Lyons
She released him again, her hips cycling against his tongue. In the next instant, she was moving. His frustration that she'd done so before coming was short-lived. A light buzzing resonated through the tabletop, and he dimly recognized that she'd removed the still-vibrating egg. It went skittering toward the edge and dropped to the pristine Pergo floor. But then the sweet, tight sheath engulfing his length stole all conscious thought. David powered his hips up and down, meeting her downward thrusts avidly.
Their sounds overlapped, mingled…made a soundtrack he wouldn't mind hearing again and again. Finally, Robin screamed out his name, pressing down hard as pure sensation exploded and raced throughout his body.
They lay in the aftermath, Robin astride him, her cheek pressed to his chest, panting and mewing with each movement.
David tried to make sense of the world, but it was a lost cause. He had no idea how long they'd stayed there. For that matter, their dinners could be turning to charcoal. The timer could have rung, and he never would have heard it…wouldn't have cared, if he had heard it.
“I have never…” Robin gasped. “Never felt that before.”
He smiled. “Do you still have whipped cream for your cocoa?”
Her head came up, her brow scrunched in that expression of confusion he loved so much. “Yes. Why?”
“You'll see.”
Chapter Four
December 4, 2009
“I have to talk to you.”
David looked up at Les and noted Les's tense shoulders and sideways glance toward his brother Neil. His stomach squirmed at the unspoken warning. “Sure, Les. I was about to get a coffee. Ride down with me.”
His cousin's grim expression said it all. This wasn't a work-related discussion. It was personal, and there was only one personal subject Les would hesitate to pull out in front of Neil.
As if the thought drew the latter man's attention, he grunted out a request for a cup of that coffee when David came back up.
“Sure.” Forcing that out took all he had and more. His mind was in a flat spin. Had someone besides Les found out? Had Pop found out?
They made meaningless small talk on the way to the elevator, rerunning shipments that he'd already triple-checked days earlier. One of the electricians jumped aboard with them, and they rode in silence for three floors, until he got off.
“What's wrong?” David asked the moment they were in motion again. Not Pop. Anyone else I can probably talk sense to. Not Pop.
“The ladies have decided it's time to get Robin in circulation again.”
The squirming turned to a roiling. “They're not setting her up on a blind date, are they?”
“I talked Andrea out of that. I told her it would be too much a shock to Robin's system. But she's planning something.”
“What is she planning?” He prayed it wasn't some sort of speed dating or Internet dating thing.
Les darkened, averting his gaze. “She won't tell me. Said something about me being a party pooper or some shit like that.”
David ground his teeth in frustration. He ranted internally at their interference, then calmed himself with the truth that they only wanted to help. The whole family loved Robin. They all cared for her. From their point of view, she was still home every night pining for Zach.
He considered having Les tell Andrea the truth, but there was no question she would tell Neil's wife Barbara. The story would filter from Barbara to Heather to Ross's sister, Diane, to…his mother, most likely. That wasn't counting the guys' side of the picture, when Barbara told Neil, and Heather told Ross. Since Neil wasn't the most vociferous, it would be Ross that—Oh, the whole thing was stomach-clenching stuff, if one wanted to keep a secret, and the communication lines were fairly predictable.
“What are you going to do?” Les asked.
“I'll figure it out.”
David supposed that it depended on what the game plan was. If it were a ladies' strip club or a night at the bar, he wouldn't have to interfere. If it were something more, he'd have to invent a reason to.
———
“You know what you need?”
Robin looked up, meeting Andrea's gaze in shock. “Me?” What in the world was she talking about?
“Yes, you.”
Oh, no. “I don't need anything,” she denied. I'm getting everything I want…nearly. Robin focused on the stack of paid invoices she was entering in the computer and hoped that she'd headed it off at the pass.
“You need a girls' night out.”
In the background, the door opened and closed.
Robin pressed the backspace key, clearing the amount she'd just entered as if it was an error. “I don't think—”
“Aw, come on, girlfriend.” Andrea plopped on the edge of the desk. “Feed your feminine core.”
Her face went hot, and images of David provided an unintended double meaning to her comment.
Andrea continued, oblivious to Robin's upset. “A few drinks. A few men.”
“Hell no.” It was out before Robin could stop herself.
“Well, not that way, honey. There's no law that says I can't look, though.” Her chocolate eyes were wide and earnest, childlike when framed by the long, loping curls around her coffee-and-cream cheeks.
“I think it's a great idea.”
Robin choked at the sound of David's voice. How long had he been there?
He forged on. “Maybe a little male stripper action. I could see that.”
She turned and glared at him. “Oh, you could. Could you?”
David shot her one of his devilish grins. “Sure. Can't you?”
That stung. Robin went back to her work. “Maybe.”
“Good. Glad that's settled. Now—”
“Settled? Who said—”
“Andrea, you and the other ladies will be picking Robin up at what? Seven? That way she'll have time to change and eat first.”
“I didn't agree,” Robin called out sweetly.
“But you will,” David countered in the same singsong tone she'd used. “Seven?”
“Sounds good,” Andrea agreed. “Seven it is.” She pushed off Robin's desk and, strolling toward him, pulled out her cell phone from a back pocket, most likely to call Barbara with the “good news.” Just before she passed David, she shot him a cocky grin. “Who knew you could be so handy?”
“Oh, I am that,” he teased.
“No, you're not,” Robin grumbled.
But there was no point in arguing. When Andrea got her teeth into something, there was little chance of talking her out of it. Once she had the other girls on her side, she'd be nearly unstoppable, and David had removed the one roadblock she had…lying about a previous engagement with him.
Andrea snagged her coat off the hook and sauntered through the door, dialing without looking at the phone.
I haven't agreed! Robin fumed at being treated like a preschooler. She'd been handling her own social calendar for the last decade, after all.
David sighed. “I know you don't want to go.”
But you want me to. And that hurt. Why was he so quick to foist her off on Andrea and the girls? And what would he be doing while she was out watching strippers? Jealousy burned in her gut, making her glad she hadn't eaten lunch yet.
She forced out one innocuous question. “Then why are you helping her?”
He didn't reply immediately, and she turned her head. David was making two cups of coffee, his movements slow and measured.
To her surprise, he turned his head to scan the office and then the view outside the trailer through the big window that faced the site. Once he was sure they were alone and unable to be overheard, he met her gaze solidly.
“The ladies aren't going to give up until they've got you dating again.”
I am. Sort of. Robin wasn't sure what to call what she and David had. Her heart told her that it was more than physical, but how much more? That was anyone's guess.
As if he heard her inner waffling, he suggested, “You could head
them off at the pass by telling them about us.”
Her mouth went dry at the suggestion. Since they weren't exactly dating, what they were doing wouldn't go over well with his family, she was sure. As it was, they'd have to agree to lie and say she'd gotten David to agree to artificial insemination.
But why would we have kept it secret? Why wouldn't we have told them? Would Cal and Mollie take offense to that?
In retrospect, Robin wanted to kick herself. With all the well-laid plans, how could she have completely ignored this part?
Because there was no way of knowing how long it would take her to get pregnant? Lying about when she planned to be inseminated could go badly, if she didn't get pregnant for six months. How many times would they believe she'd tried? Would they try to talk her out of it? Or talk David out of it? Would they want to consult with the nonexistent doctor she'd engaged to perform the fictitious procedures? It would be their grandchild, after all.
Her thoughts swung back to the idea of six months. It was better than considering the very sticky problem of presenting an illegitimate grandchild to Cal and Mollie, in any form. Just the thought of six months of David in bed with her was mind altering. Would he give her that long? As far as she knew, he'd never dated a woman longer than a month or a little more. Would he get bored and want to date other women while he slept with her? Or move on altogether?
He executed a stiff nod, snapping her out of her internal argument. “I figured that would be your answer.”
What was that half-hidden note in his voice?
“If you go out with them and make it clear you aren't looking for more, you can stall them off for a while.”
She nodded dumbly, still working at the hard edge to his expression without results.
His gaze slanted toward the window and didn't return. “We're leaving at four today.”
“We?” What was he up to?
“Your car is in the shop,” he reminded her. “I'm driving you home.”
“Oh… Yeah.” Why did she keep hoping for more than these mundane concerns?
“We have a lot of preparations to make for your girls' night out.” He flashed her one of his I'm-about-to-make-trouble grins and headed out the door with both cups of coffee in his hands.
So much for one of them being for me.
Preparations? Robin chewed on the inside of her lip, her thoughts scattered. Somehow, she doubted he meant a shower and change of clothes, but any thought she had of following him and asking died at the sight of Mollie and Cal walking in from lunch.
———
David was rock hard before they made it into the truck, and the hand teasing him while he drove wasn't helping.
“Tell me what your plan is,” she purred.
He smiled. “I don't think I will just yet.”
“When we get home?”
Home. Just the sound of a home with Robin sent shivers of delight through him. “That would do nicely.” Getting it out of his mouth without tripping over it was a damned miracle.
“And what else will we be doing at home?” She pulled the button on his jeans open under the cover of his flannel shirt, teasing him.
“Nothing you'll object to.” If the toys she'd purchased were any indication, Robin would be game for anything he wanted to try.
His zipper started to slide down.
Shit. Time to slow her down. “Call Tony's and order dinner in. On me.”
Her head tilted back, and she stared at him in disbelief. “What? Why?”
“Because it's the only way we'll get to eat before you go out.” That should be enticement enough.
It was. Robin pulled back and fished her cell phone out of her jeans. “At this time of night, we'll be waiting an hour,” she cautioned.
“Good. That's what I want.”
She made the call without any further questions. David didn't listen to what she ordered. He didn't care what she did. What he was hungry for wasn't coming in a brown bag or pizza box. It was currently wrapped in a snug pair of dark jeans.
He pulled into the driveway with a smile on his face.
———
Robin slipped out of the truck, her senses in a riot. Whatever David had planned, it was going to be explosive. She let them in and kept walking, shedding her jacket onto the sofa. His gaze on her ass was like a physical caress, and she added a sway of her hips.
David locked the door and followed her into the bedroom. He glanced at her half-open shirt and then at his hands. “I'm just going to wash up before.”
“Want company in the shower?” she offered.
“No. The shower is for later.” He shot her a hungry look over his shoulder. “I want you naked in the bed.”
With that pronouncement, he was gone, and Robin was left gaping. The sound of water running in the sink spurred her into motion.
He emerged several minutes later—his boots and socks shed, his jacket likewise absent, his face and hands scrubbed, his hair damp…and his jeans buttoned again. Robin wondered at that move.
“I do plan on taking advantage of that,” he commented.
“Of? What?” What was he talking about?
“Whatever I want to.” There was a challenge couched in that statement. “Say it. Say I can have whatever I want.”
Her heart pounded out a warning her head ignored. “Anything.”
“On your knees, facing the head of the bed.”
She complied, her breath coming in ragged little gasps, though he hadn't even touched her.
The drawer opened, and Robin closed her eyes. She wanted to see what he chose, but she didn't, at the same time. Not knowing was a delicious form of foreplay.
As if he agreed, the blindfold covered her eyes. Other items caused ripples in the mattress and quilt beneath her. He hadn't removed his clothes yet, and she wondered what he was up to.
David forced her ankles wider, his jean-clad knees coming to rest between her calves. Robin bit back a moan. Letting him call the shots this way was better than the actual act of sex with any man before him.
Something brushed the outside of her leg, and Robin tried to focus on the sensation. Maybe she could guess what he'd placed on the bed. As if he guessed her aim, David pulled the item away. She groaned aloud at that.
His chuckles rumbled against her shoulder. Was he leaning toward her? Tipping his head down?
David's arm circled her, and his fingers went to work on her clit. They were slick. Robin doubted it was his own precum, since she hadn't heard his jeans open. Since he wasn't using the copious juices she was producing, that meant he'd used the lube.
He played her expertly, reducing her to a mewing, shivering ball of nerves in moments.
“David, please.” She needed more, and begging for it wasn't out of the question.
He pinched her clit lightly, and she gasped. His cock was heavy and thick, and he was denying them both. Why?
“You're going to come for me.” David didn't question it.
Robin circled her hips, grinding against his fingers. “When don't I?”
His voice went rough. “I love that about you.”
If only he loved her and not just things about her!
One slick finger plunged inside, and she bucked her hips instinctively, forcing him farther.
“I can feel your climax building up,” he whispered. The finger slid back and forth, teasing her with what she really wanted—his length and girth thrusting inside.
He added a second finger, and the precursors of a violent climax assaulted her, stealing her breath.
“That's my girl.”
The thought of herself as David's propelled her over the edge. She was so lost in the fractured sounds, scents, and touches that one touch nearly escaped her notice.
The prodding at her anus had her arching in shock, and her muddled mind labored at processing it.
“Push back against it,” David instructed.
Robin complied automatically. She always followed his commands in the bedroom. Why w
ould this be different?
It was different. The finger easing through the ring of muscle was different.
“Push back,” he reminded her.
She did with a half-swallowed squeak, reaching back for his hair as the finger slid inside.
Oh God! Her body was a riot of sensations she couldn't separate long enough to make sense of it.
Her hand was clenched tight, fisted around a handful of his hair. She was probably hurting him. Robin forced her hand to relax.
As if David had been waiting for that sign, he started thrusting his finger in and out slowly. Robin licked her lips, encouraging her mind to function.
The plugs. David had seen the butt plugs and assumed she wanted to try anal sex.
But she hadn't. She'd thought all men wanted to try it. She'd bought the plugs with a plan in mind. If she offered Zach something she didn't mind trying for him, maybe she'd entice him into experimentation she wanted. But Zach hadn't taken the bait, and she'd written it off as seventy wasted dollars.
David added a second finger, and she followed his earlier instructions automatically, easing him in.
I should stop him. He has the wrong idea.
Still, she'd promised him anything. She'd told David that she wanted to try everything. Both were all-inclusive terms. She hadn't balked at letting him teach her then.
Robin had purchased the plugs with the thought of offering Zach anything he wanted. Was David so much different? She'd offer him anything to get what she wanted. With Zach, that had been sexual range; with David, it was the type of commitment she'd had with Zach.
David eased his fingers out, and Robin moaned at the sensation. She wasn't stopping him. She wasn't going to. Why had he—
The next prod wasn't a finger. She didn't question that it was the smallest plug. Robin took it as she had his fingers. All told, it was smaller than two of his fingers, though it reached a little deeper than he'd pushed.
For a moment, neither of them moved. They barely breathed.
“Maybe I should tell you the game plan now,” David grumbled.
Robin nodded, sexually exhausted, though he'd barely started.
Chapter Five
David stared at Robin across the table laden with uneaten pizza. “Acceptable?” he asked.