Dirty Little Secrets: A Stepbrother Romance (31 page)

“Really? Well, not to echo Rebekah from last night, but what now?”

Robin flashed me that smile that I loved so much, the one that said she had a crazy, harebrained scheme that would be an adventure, and one that I would probably end up loving by the end. I remember Stephen King describing a character in one of his books with a similar smile, and he said it was a ‘fuck you if you don’t like it’ smile. Of course, since I love everything Robin does, how could I not help but get pulled along?

“How about we use some of those accounts you told me about, and go into business together? I’m going to need a good coder, and a test pilot.”

“Pilot for what?” I said, taking a deep drink of my chocolate milk. “Damn, you always do make it feel like I’m drinking liquid chocolate. Does Chef know how much cocoa powder you put in these things?”

“I’m sure he does,” Robin said dismissively before continuing. “As for a pilot, well, I’ve decided I’m not going to mess around any longer. I’m going to build that exoskeleton I’ve been talking about since forever, and I need your help to do it.”

I only needed a moment, enough time to finish my chocolate milk before I made my decision. “Sounds good. Let’s go back to your place and get the paperwork started for forming our new company. So, does that mean I have to call you ‘boss’ from now on?”

“What’s wrong with your place?” Robin asked, finishing her own milk and setting the glass down. “No offense, but I live in a one-bedroom hole in the wall. I didn’t even bring prior boyfriends over there, let alone the man I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

Her words resonated with me, and I did what I always do, make a decision on the fly, but this time I knew I wouldn’t regret it later. Getting up, I knelt in front of Robin and took her hand. “You mean it? You really want to spend the rest of your life with me?”

“Of course,” she said, a blush coming to her face. “Wes, are you?”

“Damn right,” I replied, clearing my throat and looking into her eyes. “Robin Collins, will you marry me?”

Robin barely let the words get out of my mouth before she leapt into my arms, knocking me on my ass and wrapping me up in a hug. Her muffled replies of ‘yes’ came in between the kisses, like I needed the confirmation. When she finally let me get up off the ground and dust off my jeans, she was crying, blushing, and smiling all at the same time. “So . . . about my apartment,” she said before we both broke down into giggles and fits of laughter. “I wasn’t lying when I said it was a one-bedroom hole.”

“Better than my place,” I said honestly. “Robin, with my work, my apartment was nothing but a post office box in town. When I wasn’t overseas or on vacation, I was here. So it looks like we have some other things to do before we start up our company.”

“Yep.” Robin took my hand and we headed toward the back door. “You’re going to take me shopping for engagement rings, and then we’re going to need to look for an apartment.”

Winston met us at the back door, his face as passive as ever, but I could see he had overheard, and there were tears in his eyes. “Congratulations, Wesley,” he said, holding the door open for us.

“What about for me?” Robin asked, a smile on her face. “Don’t I get a ‘congratulations’ as well?”

“No, Miss Robin,” Winston said before, for the first time in my life, I saw the man break out in a grin. “For you, I’d rather say . . . good luck.”

Chapter 11
Robin

T
he lab was
dusty and grimy, and there was a definite odor of
feijoada
in the place from the Brazilian food plant next door. Still, it had exactly what Wes and I needed to do our work—lots of open space and a good power supply. The building had been a laundromat and was wired for both 110 and 220 volts, and enough amps that I think I could electrocute Godzilla with no problems. Best of all, it was cheap. Whether it was Wes’s former employers pulling a few strings or just pure luck, we got the foreclosed building for less than the price of a small condominium.

“This place is really too big,” I told Wes as we carried in the first load of our office supplies. “I mean, all we really need is about five hundred square feet.”

“At the price, I couldn’t turn it down,” Wes replied, a folding table under one arm and his laptop in the other. “Besides, I was thinking we could save money by setting up our workout stuff here. I can get everything we need for about four hundred bucks delivered. I know someone who knows someone, if you understand the meaning.”

I laughed and set down the first box of things on the one remaining counter from the laundromat. “Your connections are both scary and helpful. I keep thinking I’m going to have men in black suits and little flashy things showing up the day after we finish our prototype.”

“Nah, no flashy things . . . that I know of,” Wes said with a laugh, setting his laptop down and starting on setting up the table. “By the way, when’s the Internet guy scheduled to come by and get us up and running?”

“Tomorrow,” I said, turning and heading back out for another armload. “For today, we’re just going to have to get by on the apartment’s guest connection and my mobile data plan.”

“Eh, wasn’t planning on doing much online work today anyway. Here, let’s get the main computer in next. You can get that going while I unload the other stuff.”

It seemed a bit low-tech to have a big, boxy tower computer in our supposedly high-tech company, but Wes was insistent; something about him being able to make it more secure in housing our data files.

It took us most of the morning and early afternoon to get the office set up, and by the end, both of us were tired and hungry. I looked over at Wes, who had a streak of dirt smeared across his t-shirt, which he bought specifically as a joke. Hello Kitty had a huge brown streak of dirt coming out of her butt, and I wondered if he had done that on purpose. “Well, I wouldn’t mind some pizza. Why not delivery?”

Thirty minutes later, we were chowing down on double meat, double cheese, Italian crust pizza, courtesy of a local shop that did a much better job than any national chain. I was finishing off my third slice when Wes smirked and came around the counter, pulling me into a deep kiss.

“What was that for?” I said, not objecting in the least.

“You had some tomato sauce on your chin,” Wes replied, cupping my butt as he pulled me tighter. “Hope you don’t mind.”

“Not in the least,” I said, kissing him again. “In fact, as long as you aren’t doing this when we’re doing technology demonstrations, you can do that anytime you want.”

Wes’s lips were electric, and when his tongue twisted and caressed mine, I could feel my body flood in desire. I felt my engagement ring press into my finger, adding to my arousal, knowing that this would never end. My thoughts were interrupted when Wes picked me up and set me on the laundromat counter, causing me to squeak in surprise. “What are you doing?”

Wes’s fingers pulled at the waistband of my track pants, which I had worn because they were comfortable for the work we were doing. Now, they slid down my hips easily, along with the panties I wore that day. My pussy quivered in the cool air, trembling with arousal as Wes looked me up and down.

“I’m making love to my fiancée,” Wes replied, pushing my t-shirt up and kissing my stomach. “Who is the sexiest . . . most intelligent . . . most beautiful woman I have ever known,” he said, punctuating each word with a small kiss on my skin, working his way down. He paused, his lips hovering over my pussy, a small smile on his face. “I could do this every day if you let me.”

Starting with soft butterfly kisses on my labia, Wes worked his way down, alternating sides until reaching the bottom, where his tongue snaked out to caress me, licking upward until he reached the top and caused me to cry out in joy. He kept up his soft licks and kisses, sucking occasionally in between his licks, until my hips were trying to buck up from the table. Wes wrapped his arms around my thighs, keeping me on the table, while his long arms allowed him to push my bra up, cupping my breasts and adding to my arousal.

“Delicious,” his muffled voice came from between my legs, and I couldn’t keep my eyes on him any longer, my back arching when he licked deeply, my nipples tingling against his palms. His stiff tongue probed deep inside me, licking my inner walls, and I’m sure his face was coated with my juices, which I could feel were flowing like a faucet. Just when I was on the edge, he pulled out, his fingers forming an O shape around my nipples while he kept his hands on my breasts, licking higher again. “Not yet, my love.”

“You feel so good, though,” I half whined, not at all surprised that Wes could have me so close to climax so quickly. We have that sort of connection, where with just a touch we are at seemingly unprecedented heights of arousal. “And you know I’m multi-orgasmic.”

“True, but I’m waiting for something,” he teased, his tongue tracing around my labia again. “You know what I want.”

I blinked, bringing my eyes back down to him and trying to think. What did he want? The lust coursing through my brain was making it hard to concentrate, and his tongue on my pussy wasn’t helping matters. Finally, I realized, and grinned. “Please, Wes, make me come?”

“As you wish, my love,” he replied, smiling. He nimbly licked higher, finding the stiff nub of my clit and flicking his tongue over it. Wes has about a dozen different ways of bringing me to orgasm, but the quick explosions of pleasure from my clit when he licks me like that are perhaps my second favorite after his thick cock, and I gasped in shocked pleasure. Alternating between licks of my clit and broad sweeps of my pussy with his tongue, Wes took me higher and higher, until I thought the angels themselves couldn’t soar so high. “I love you, Wes.”

Instead of answering, Wes’s fingers tightened on my nipples, pinching them between his thumb and forefingers as he sucked my clit in between his lips. I cracked, screaming and literally squirming all over his face. My feet kicked out hard and stiff as I came, wrapping around his head and pulling him in tight. I rode the wave the best I could, tumbling out of control as Wes kept up his ministrations, not letting me come down but instead driving me higher and higher, until one orgasm became a second, and then a third, cascading on each other until I was sure my mind would break and I would go insane. It wasn’t until I sagged to the table, almost blacking out because I hadn’t been breathing, that Wes relinquished his tongue and fingers, and I felt the world slow down from the dizzying spin it had been in for untold minutes, and I could focus my eyes again.

“Now that’s a hell of an office party,” I finally whispered, stroking his hair and smiling softly. “Tell me this isn’t just a first day thing.”

Wes

F
or the next
just over six months, Robin and I worked hard at the lab, not even worrying about naming it. The incorporation paperwork said simply Collins Robotics, with she and I as forty percent owners each, and each of our parents ten percent each. We figured we’d come up with a cool sounding name later. We were so unworried that the sign to our shop was nothing more than a piece of paper that we taped up in the front door of the lab, along with instructions to the loading dock out back.

Instead of worrying about things like public relations or imagery, Robin and I busted our asses researching and experimenting. The basics of robotics were the least of our problems. The biggest challenge that had derailed almost every other attempt at what we were trying was trying to emulate the mobility of the human body. The knees and elbows were easy—they are basic hinge joints—but almost every other joint in the human body works in three dimensions. Even replicating it with basic body armor was difficult, but trying to do it with a powered exoskeleton drove both of us crazy.

Long days and long nights piled on top of each other, but we didn’t mind. Our apartment became nothing more than a place where the two of us grabbed showers, slept, and prepared meals that we would keep in Tupperware containers for later. I had never worked harder on coding, going over lines until my eyes burned and my fingers ached.

Robin worked just as hard, alternating between designing and helping me with the computer side. I was constantly amazed at her ingenuity, and I know that her ideas constantly broke new ground. Our first prototype of a lower body model was ready after six months, and we arranged for a demonstration for Dad and a bunch of his executives.

The morning of the demonstration, I was sweating bullets from nervousness. Strapping on the Mark IA Lower Limb Enhancement System, my hands shook. Robin, on the other hand, looked like a million bucks in her business suit that was specially tailored and adjusted, her raven hair pulled back into a no-nonsense French twist bun, and with a nice little touch, nonprescription gold-framed glasses that really drew attention to her eyes.

The night before, we spent three hours cleaning the shop, until even the grimy old laundromat countertop shone, and we decorated it until Collins Robotics looked more like a real lab and not a start-up.

Rebekah, as one of the primary shareholders of the company, was in attendance, looking just as beautiful as her daughter in her own way, dressed in a white suit and blue top that really took about ten years off of her appearance.

“Hey Wes, how’re you doing?” she said, as I failed for the third time to fasten the strap that was supposed to run just under my knee. “You need any help?”

“No, but thanks,” I said, chuckling darkly. “It’s going to be weird, demonstrating for Dad not as Dad, but as Gerald Brandt, CEO of Brandt Medical Technologies. You ever do something like this?”

“Not really, but I’ve done plenty of presentations,” Rebekah replied, kneeling down and helping me with my next strap. “And yes, I’ve lost my lunch more than once beforehand. Once the whole thing starts rolling, though, the butterflies go away, and I just roll with it. I’m sure you’ve felt the same thing in other ways.”

“Yeah, but then there was a reason. I had a good chance of being shot at,” I said in total seriousness. “All I’m doing here is showing off an uncompleted exoskeleton.”

“Which you and Robin have been working night and day on for six months,” Rebekah reminded me, “to the point of not even planning your wedding. Which, by the way, regardless of how today goes, you two will spend some time planning after this, or else I’m going to do it myself.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I stage whispered in reply, getting a smile. I was able to get the rest of the straps done, and I stood up from the bench I was sitting on, walking carefully over to the rest of the partial exoskeleton I was using that day. Without power, the external limbs were stiff and heavy, and I had to use all of my strength to get the ten feet. Turning around, I lined up the waist guides, locked in my power pack and back frame, and ran my pre-start checks. Once everything flashed green on my feed, I shut down, waiting for the demonstration to start.

Dad and his executives showed up at five minutes to noon, just like we expected, wearing his normal business suit. He gave Rebekah a kiss on the cheek and shook hands with Robin, all professional like, before taking a seat along with his colleagues. Robin waited until everyone was seated, then she started on her prepared speech for all the attendees and set up the demonstration of the suit I was about to give.

The first test was actually the toughest on the system, a barbell squat. We had borrowed one of those strongman style frames from a powerlifting gym in town, and loaded it with over a thousand pounds of plates. In total, it came out to over fifteen hundred pounds including the frame, which I supported by the spinal column of the skeleton. Since the exoskeleton was a bit taller than I am, getting under it was a bit of a challenge, but once I did, the squats were easy, no harder than getting up and down out of a chair.

I did twenty before letting the frame down feather-light, much to the amazement of the audience. “While adjusting for the power and speed of the skeleton takes some practice, notice that Wes didn’t have to do anything unnatural with his movements. He just squatted up and down like you might do in the gym every day. By the way, yes, Wes is a big man, but his lift was over three hundred pounds heavier than the current world record, and any one of you could’ve lifted it,” Robin expounded, and I could see we had them.

For the rest of the hour, I demonstrated different capabilities of the Mark IA. Taking the guests outside into the industrial park behind the lab, I jumped, ran, dragged a truck across the parking lot, and more, all while barely breaking a sweat. When I was finished, I nimbly maneuvered the unit back inside the lab, ducking my head to avoid the door, and latched into the recharging stand, powering down. I could tell by the look in my Dad’s eye that we had made it.

Collins Robotics was a success.

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