Thanks for all the encouragement! We're really glad you're enjoying the story. This is just a short part. More later.
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Chapter 22
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"I can't believe you really did it." Patrick leaned back in his dining room chair and let his eyes roam over his scantily clad girlfriend.
"I can't believe I really did it. Maybe the virus really did cause brain damage." Robin put her hand on her hip and shot Patrick a wry smile, as if she wasn't dressed, as requested, in only her black bra and panties and an apron. "Did you at least enjoy the food?"
"Food? There was food?" Patrick looked down at his mostly empty plate and then back up at Robin. "What's for dessert?" He licked his lips and leered at her. Before Robin could answer he jumped up and grabbed her around the waist and spun her around until her lower back was pressed against the country oak dining table. "How about I handle dessert?"
"I'm not sure I should agree to that, Patrick. The way this evening is going I'm not sure I should trust you." Robin shivered as he teased her bare skin. "I don't know how in the world I let you talk me into this."
"Simple, I found a new way to convince you."
"What's that?"
"Sincerity." He skimmed his hands up her waist, up the sides of her breasts, up her shoulders until his hands were cupping her face. "Where my overconfident seduction doesn't work, I simply tell you how incredibly sexy I find you and how much I adore you and you melt like putty in my hands."
"Isn't telling me this undermining to your technique?" Robin asked, knowing full well that it didn't diminish it one iota. Pretty much everything this man did got to her, one way or another.
"I had the caretaker stock us with some whipped cream and chocolate sauce." He leaned down and whispered in her ear. His smile turned wolfish as he felt her shiver against him at his seductive words.
"We can't!" Robin pulled back, her eyes saying the complete opposite. "We haven't even…" she trailed off and blushed. She couldn't believe he was proposing what he was proposing and they hadn't even made love yet. "You are such a rake!"
Patrick slid a finger under one of the straps of the beige apron she was wearing and slid it and her bra strap off her shoulder. Then he did the same with the other. "I know it's not the same as being tucked in with a medical journal, but I guarantee it's far more enjoyable." He leaned down and pressed soft kisses on her lips. "It's not that you don't taste good enough. But the image of you splayed out on the table." He nudged her back bending her back over aforesaid table. "Covered…"
Robin's breathing hitched and her eyes closed as he began kissing one bare shoulder.
"All over." He kissed the other shoulder.
Then he traced one finger over one cloth covered breast. Then the other.
"Patrick." Her voice was a broken whisper.
He opened his mouth to say something when his cell phone rang. Robin's eyes popped open and she began to straighten up.
"No. Ignore it," Patrick ordered, trying to gently press her back down.
"Patrick, it could be the hospital."
Patrick sighed, took one last look of Robin, half naked, her lips swollen, her hair mussed, before helping her stand up and turning to grab his cell phone off the kitchen counter. "Drake," he barked into the phone, betraying his frustration with the interruption.
As he listened to whatever the other person was saying his face froze and he looked over at Robin.
She had straightened up her straps and walked over to him, a concerned look in her face.
"When. What are they doing? No, it's fine. We'll be there as soon as we can." He closed the phone and took Robin's outstretched hand and answered her unspoken question.
"My father's body is rejecting the transplant."
TBC
