ATTENTION: THE AUTHOR IS POSTING THE LAST CHAPTER ON MAY 5. TO THANK ALL THOSE WHO HAVE READ HER STORY, SHE IS ALLOWING THE ENTIRE STORY TO BE PUBLISHED UNTIL MAY 22.
THIS BOOK OR ANY PORTION THEREOF MAY NOT BE REPRODUCED IN ANY FORM WITHOUT PERMISSION. THE SCANNING, UPLOADING, AND DISTRIBUTION OF THIS BOOK VIA THE INTERNET OR VIA ANY OTHER MEANS WITHOUT THE PERMISSION OF THE PUBLISHER IS ILLEGAL AND PUNISHABLE BY LAW.
REGINA TURNED TO ROBIN AS HE DROVE out of the parking lot. "This is crazy, I have so much to do before Mueller comes on Friday." She paused waiting for him to come to his senses, he didn't respond. "Robin, answer me."
"It'll keep," he said turning down the access road and onto the highway.
"Where are we going?" She scanned the city out the window. They were headed in a direction she didn't normally travel in.
"I told you, I'm taking you home with me."
Swallowing, she accepted that this was happening. He was determined and who the hell was she kidding? She wanted this just as much as he did. His hand slid into hers and linked their fingers together. It relaxed her and put her at ease.
He wasn't taking her home just to get her into bed, she reminded herself. He cared about her, cared about who she was. Took an interest in her and her work. Listened to her when she spoke about her family, her life. They enjoyed being around one another, it was easy, normally.
Thinking back two years, she tried to think about the events that led her to Graham Humbert, the former tax lawyer for the firm. He'd been attractive, sure. His eyes, his smile, his body. But it was his persistence and her need that she'd fallen prey to.
He'd asked her about her family, her friends had taken a fake interest in her. Really, she'd realized it quickly that he didn't particularly care. It took him six months to complete his task, as it were. All along, she knew it wasn't right. There was something off about him. But he'd caught her off guard. Had invited her over for a nightcap and she'd agreed after his hundredth attempt.
There hadn't been much conversation, she remembered. She'd been there less than ten minutes when he'd made his move. Seven more when it was over, and she'd been utterly humiliated, disappointed, and regretful. Five more when he said he was tired and that it was late, that she had to go.
For days, he'd avoided her, and he'd stopped taking an interest. He'd stopped talking to her and she started to hear the whispers. Talks of a bet that he'd won, she'd fallen victim to.
Glancing at Robin as he released her hand and maneuvered his car into an apartment parking lot, she thought it would be different. It had taken six or seven minutes by her estimation for his hands to take her places that Graham never had been able to take her to with his entire body. Robin had used his hands and she'd been dazzled, sated, satisfied.
Thinking of what was about to happen put pressure low in her belly. He parked the car and got out, walked around to her side to open her door. She took the hand he held out for her and led her up the stairs to a second-floor apartment. He keyed into the door and let her go in first.
It was a typical guy's apartment, she mused. "It's not much," he said. "But it works for me. For now," he said dropping his key into a bowl by the door. The clatter made her jump. Relax, she told herself.
The living room and kitchen were in one large open space, a counter separating the two. Two couches sat in an L shape around an entertainment center, a coffee table in the center. A TV sat in the console, pictures of his family atop it. A shelf full of DVDs sat on display. A table with a lamp sat in the corner, the walls were bare other than a few pictures of his parents.
Behind her, she could hear Robin in the kitchen clattering around. She turned to see him with his back to her, she slid her blazer off her shoulders and draped it over the edge of one of the couches. When he turned, he had two glasses of wine and she could have kissed his feet.
"Thought you could use this," he smiled.
"Thanks," she took the glass and drank deep. Her stomach clenched at the way he was looking at her over his glass. When she lowered her glass, her hands shook. "Nice place," she said feeling silly.
He laughed, "Why are you nervous?"
"I don't know," she said shrugging and almost toppling the glass as her hands continued to tremble.
He took the glass before it could spill over the carpet and set them down on the coffee table. "Hey," he said softly. Her eyes met his, "Relax." Nodding, she tried. She thought about her muscles and intentionally made herself take a deep breath. "Come here," he took her hand and pulled her down next to him on the couch.
He took a remote and turned on a stereo, soft Jazz music filtered in the small room. Her body relaxed a little, but her blood pounded in her ears. His arm came around her, he turned his body to hers. He shaped his hand to her jaw, "Talk to me."
"Talk to you?" He confused her, threw her off balance, never did what she expected him to do.
"Yea, talk to me. Tell me what you're thinking because you look terrified. I'm not gonna touch you if you're not sure," he said letting his hand tangled in her hair, glide his fingers through, and softly massage the base of her neck. "I rushed it last time, I don't want to do that again."
"I wouldn't have let you drag me out of the office in the middle of the day with a long list of meetings, phone calls, and preparation on my plate, if I wasn't sure," she argued.
"Then, why do you look terrified?" His hand in her hair slid down and around her shoulder, pulled her closer.
"I'm not." She could see that he knew she was lying, could feel the heat in her cheeks, the clutch in her belly. "I'm just…" What were the right words? What was the right expression that she could give him? "Fine," she sighed. "Maybe I am a little terrified."
"Tell me why," he said searching her eyes. "I'm not him," he said echoing her earlier mention of her words when he'd spoken of Greta.
She winced, "I know." Taking the lead, she framed his face with her hands feeling her heart thudding in her chest, "I know, I'm just out of practice," she said. "I need slow and patient," she touched her lips to his, nibbled softly, and eased away as an ache in her core grew. "I do want this, I want you," she breathed unsteadily. She pressed her lips to his, opened so he could taste her, and accepted their fate. "Touch me," she whispered.
HER SURRENDER WAS SWEET, her taste intoxicating, and her body soft and supple. Slow and patient, he reminded himself. He leaned forward so her back could lean against the plush cushions of the couch, his body covered hers, he deepened the kiss. He simply drowned in her, kiss after kiss, tracing his fingers along her jaw, in her hair.
Her arms twined around him like a vine, her fingers sliding into his hair, pulling him to her. He'd give her anything she wanted, he mused. His hands wanted to touch her everywhere, the conservative dress she wore was like a barrier. Up to her neck and past her knees, he could hardly get his hands on her.
He felt his body burn with heat, his blood was boiling, he roughened the kiss greedily devouring her. Their impatience matched, he could feel it. Her hands were busy with speed and accuracy, he thought, undoing buttons and sliding her hands beneath his shirt and shoved at it unable to get it over his shoulders. "Mmm," she tried again with no success.
He leaned back on his knees and tugged the shirt from his waistband and drew it off his body, tossed it aside. "Come here," he said tugging her to her knees, tossed her spikes aside, and helped her to her feet. "Turn around."
With her back to him, he stood behind her, molded his hands to her hips, glided them up to her waist, over her shoulders, and to the middle of her dress feeling her tremble over and over as he stroked. As slowly as he could, with his breath not so steady, he lowered the zipper. Patience, slow, he chanted to himself. Midway down her back, he pressed his lips to her skin, lingered.
At her waist, his fingers trailing down with the zipper, he felt her muscles bunch, jerk, and relax. He leaned over her shoulder and whispered, "You're so beautiful." Pressing his lips to her cheek, he slid the straps of her dress down her shoulders, the fabric falling to the floor. "Step out." He kicked her dress out of the way. "Turn around."
God she was perfect, he thought. Those deep brown eyes, aware, aroused. Her chestnut hair falling to her shoulders, framing her face. His chest tightened when those lips curved into a sultry smile. The nerves were gone, he mused. Replaced with arousal, a little boldness as she wrapped her arms around him. Her lips pressed against his chest, nibbled, glided tormenting him. He closed his eyes, took deep breaths until her teeth sunk into his skin and he hissed.
Her giggle surprised him, she opened her mouth to do it again, but he gripped her hair and tilted her head back, pinned one arm behind her back. "You're gonna pay for that," he teased.
"Yea?" She grinned, "What are you gonna do about it?" Her nails bit into his hip, he went hard as iron as she untied his belt with one hand and pulled it out of the loops. The look in her eyes, the smile on her face, it was everything. "Hmm?" When her fingers moved to unhook his pants, he let go of her hair and gripped her hand.
"You wanna play?" He pinned her other arm behind her back. He grinned when she struggled to get free. "I love that smile," he said lowering his head to kiss her. "Do it again."
Her lips curved, "Let me go. I want to touch you," she said innocently. The gleam in her eye told him there was nothing innocent about it.
She was playful, fun, and not embarrassed, he noted. He loved this side of her, completely relaxed, confident. He linked his fingers in hers and sunk into a slow deliciously warm kiss. His tongue slid along hers, his fingers flexed and tightened, he teased, tested, and devoured. He took a step back, she followed without hesitation.
Slowly, he took small short steps, kissed her slower, deeper, and guided her down the short hallway, risked it, and flipped on a light releasing one of her arms. Lost, he released her other arm, molded his hands to her hips, and lifted her. Her legs wrapped around him as he eased onto the bed. He sat back against the headboard, wrapped his arms around her, and bit down on the curve of her shoulder.
Her body arched up as she moaned, she reached back and unhooked her bra. He helped her slide the straps from her shoulders and toss the material aside. He wrapped his hand around her hair, tilted her head back, and covered his mouth over her soft supple breast. He swirled his tongue over the hard bud and bit down. She cried out and her nails dug into his shoulders egging him on.
Taking his face in her hands, she shoved him back and pressed her lips to his. His blood surged when her fingers unsnapped his pants and jerked the zipper down. When her hand slid under the fabric and stroked with her fingers, he shuddered and groaned. "Wait," he said grasping her hand. "You do that again and that'll be over before it can begin."
"Sorry," she breathed with flushed cheeks.
"Don't apologize," he said. "I'm too revved up, to take it slow," he admitted. "Give me a minute."
She climbed off his lap and he felt defeated thinking she was going to run, instead, she pressed a hand to his chest and pushed him back. "I like it like this," she said as her hands cascaded up his leg, in tantalizing slowness. She keeps on surprising him, he thought. "I like that you can't help yourself." His breath hitched as she stroked him through his pants, once, glided her hands to his hips and hooked her fingers under the waistband and tugged.
Unsteady, aching, he lifted his hips and let her tug them from his hips. She pulled the slacks from his legs, tossed them on the floor. "I can control myself," he argued when she crawled up the bed.
"Can you?" Her lips pressed to his, lingered, released. He clenched his fists together when her lips nibbled and glided down his neck, her teeth sunk, soothed with her tongue. If this was a game, he was sure to lose. No question.
She continued her assault over his shoulders in the same rhythm, nibble, bite, suck, soothe. Moving down to his chest, his blood surged, the ache torturous, he clenched his jaw and hoped to hell he could hold on. All he could think was she was she had payback coming her way. When her head dipped lower down his belly, he hissed.
Regina giggling made him shake his head, "You won't be laughing when it's your turn," he gritted through his teeth. Her mouth opened and closed over him through his boxers, "Regina," he warned tangling his hands in her hair. His body trembling beyond his control, he let her tease him for one minute, two, and groaned, "Fuck, baby. Come here," he rolled her onto her back and covered his body with hers.
Her legs wrapped around him as he sunk into her, kissing her until he was dizzy. He ground his rigid length into her feeling delicious friction. He wanted to give up all this teasing, all this sexual tension, but she deserved it. Deserved more. He just wasn't sure how much of it he could handle. She gasped as he rocked into her, "Hurry." Reaching down to push his boxers from his hips, he lifted his head.
"No," he said when he was bare. Her hands pushed the remaining fabric from her hips, he kissed her. "It's my turn," he smiled wickedly. He lowered his head and covered his mouth over the beat of her pulse under her jaw. He scraped his teeth along her skin and felt her shiver. He bit down over her breast, her hips surged up, he slid the fabric from her legs and tossed it.
"Oh my…" her breath caught mid-sentence when his teeth sunk down on her other breast and shuttered out. "I can't…" She sobbed when his fingers slid between her thighs, she was wet, hot, and went over after sliding his fingers quickly back and forth with enough pressure to bring her up again. He felt her whole-body flex and tighten, then shake as she went over. "Hurry," she begged.
"Mmmhmm," he shook his head. "You said slow, I'm giving you slow," he said. He started at her feet, put her toes in his mouth sucked on the pulse point there. Trailed his lips to her ankle, bit down, soothed with his tongue. He rubbed the stubble of his beard along her shin, lifted her leg to nibble the back of her knees.
When she was writhing, he bent forward and pressed an open mouth kiss to the inside of her thigh. Her skin was silky, smooth. He eased closer and closer to her center. His fingers hooked around her hips, brushed against her dark curls. Her breath stuttered out and she bucked up when he closed his mouth over her.
He hummed at her taste, pressed his tongue against her, and she cried out. Her hands grabbed at his hair and held on. His nails scraped along her hips, her belly, her thighs. Her breaths sobbed out, her body convulsed as his tongue assaulted her. "Robin," she said in a long cry. When he thought she'd had enough, he held her hips in place and applied enough pressure for her to buck and sob until she collapsed over the edge. Again.
When she was panting and out of breath, he released her, reached into the drawer at his bedside for a condom and slid it on. He climbed up the bed and kissed her deeply. She wrapped around him, "Now," she said pulling his head back down to her waiting lips.
"Now," he said and slowly eased into her tight quaking body. They groaned in unison when he entered her. For a few moments, he simply stayed there, felt her body relax. He eased back and surged forward and gasped. "Mmm," he hummed. "I don't know if slow is gonna happen," he said.
"I don't care," she said surging her hips up and into him. He let her set the pace, to lift and fall until he couldn't slow any longer. He gripped her hips and took over. Agonizingly slow, he moved in languid strokes. When her body began to tremble, he increased the speed and locked eyes with her.
This feeling was what he'd felt since he laid eyes on her, this connection. This feeling in his chest when her eyes melted into his. It was overwhelming, it was unknown, more than just a physical attraction. Her arms reached for him, wrapped around him. "Let go," he said.
They moved in a rhythm like a wave, rocking together, slow and building until her body was tight and rigid. "Go, just go," he said reaching down and sliding his fingers to her aching center.
Her arms tightened around him, her breath sobbed, he felt her spasm around him. "Fuck, baby. Yes," he surged over and over again until he couldn't breathe, and he emptied himself inside her. His body shuddered, his heart pounded, and his breath whooshed as he slumped on top of her completely destroyed.
HER ENTIRE BODY WAS TINGLING while she tried to steady her breath. The warmth of his solid body against her sated made her smile. She felt the rumble of his voice by her ear, "I know I'm heavy, I'll move in a minute."
"Don't," she said wrapping her arms tighter around him. "Not yet." He was still inside her, his body pressed close. Closing her eyes, she wanted to remember this. Their first time, the time she let herself enjoy it. She prayed her mind wouldn't take over and start thinking, what if. Right now, she wanted his weight on her.
He nuzzled his face into her hair, pressed his lips to her neck, "Are you sure I'm not too heavy?" He pushed up on his elbows lifting some of his weight up and lifted his head.
She smiled, "You're not too heavy."
His eyes searched hers, he had a smug smile on his face, "You're stunning." He lowered his head and kissed her softly. Her eyes fluttered closed, enjoyed the sensuality of his lips fused with hers.
When he lifted his head, she smiled, "I'm gonna have a hard time concentrating after this."
His laughter vibrated their bodies, "I'm not done with you yet."
"Robin," she chastised. "Two days," she said.
He lifted his hips separating them, "I know. Be right back," he said. She watched him walk into a bathroom attached to the bedroom. Closing her eyes, she pulled the duvet from the bed and over her. She heard the flush of a toilet, the water turning on and off, and felt the bed dip. She opened her eyes as he slid under the covers by her side.
She wrapped around him, rested her cheek to his chest, "I have so much to do. I'm nervous," she said.
His breathing was deep shallow, his fingers trailing up and down her back, "You're gonna be great. You're ready, you need to trust yourself."
"I want this case more than I've ever wanted any other case," she sighed. "What if I mess it up?"
"You won't unless you sabotage it on purpose. You've got this," he insisted.
For a long time, she laid there thinking, his fingers stopped moving and his hand rested around her, his breathing shallow and deep. Closing her eyes, she felt the rise and fall of his chest, enjoyed the warmth of his body pressed to hers under the covers.
It was the middle of the day, she reminded herself. Lifting her head, she smiled to see him sleeping. Turning around, she rested her head on a pillow, felt him shift and wrap his arm around her and bury his face in her hair. "We should go back to work," she said.
"Nap first," he mumbled.
Feeling the drowsiness in her own body, she snuggled deeper into the bed and closed her eyes. Just for a minute, she told herself. Before she knew it, she drifted off with Robin snugly behind her.