Authors: Dahlia Dewinters
His mouth traced the arch of her brow, kissed her at the corner of her eye. “I thought I’d lost you tonight.”
Violet slipped her hand under his shirt, felt the beating of his heart under her palm, his unsteady breathing. “Take this off.” She tugged at the soft cotton. “As for tonight, I’m a lot tougher than you think.”
“Not too tough.” He yanked his shirt over his head and kissed her again, his lips and mouth warm and sweet against hers. He slid his hands under her shirt and thumbed her nipples. The desire mounted, a swelling tide of arousal sending a hot rush of blood to the sensitive flesh between her thighs. The intensity of the feeling unnerved her, made her feel out of control and heedless.
Francis pulled the shirt over her head, then eased her panties down her hips and down her legs, tossing them both over the edge of the bed.
“I can’t believe you undressed me.”
“Just the top layers,” he said, his hands busy on her breasts. “It’s so much easier when you’re tipsy.”
“You’re taking advantage.”
“Yes, I am.” He stripped off his own pants and pressed the length of his body against hers.
She opened her mouth to say something else and he lowered his head to her nipple, pulling the tight flesh into his mouth She gasped, the warmth of his mouth inflaming her even more, making her wriggle with impatience on the bed sheets. Arching her body, she pressed closer, opening her legs to rub against the hard ridge of his erection. He was familiar to her, his body was familiar, but given the events of the past few days, it was as if she was with him for the first time.
His leg was between hers now, nudging her thighs wider. One of his hands dragged across her stomach and lower, his fingers parting the soft cleft and touching her with infinite gentleness. Her head swam with the exquisite sensation, each stroke sending waves of hot excitement across sensitized nerve endings until she shuddered with a frantic orgasm, a whistling breath expelling from her lungs.
“That’s nice, right?”
“Nice?” She tried to catch her breath, her body still thrumming with warm aftershocks. “My goodness. That was…fabulous.”
“We’ll go on from there.” His weight lifted off of her for a moment to reach for the nightstand.
Violet grabbed his arm, stopping him. “No,” she said. “I don’t need that…” Her voice was shy to her own ears. “If you don’t.”
“Are you sure?”
“If you’re sure.”
“I asked you.”
“I suggested it, didn’t I?”
“I have a suggestion,” he said. “Let’s get married.”
The tone of his voice was so casual he could have been offering her a glass of water. “Isn’t there a waiting period?”
“You’re stalling.” He tossed the condom back on the nightstand. “Listen, Violet. No matter what you might think, I’d consider myself lucky if you’d have me. Besides,” he continued, squinting at her in the half-light of the room, “you need someone to keep you out of trouble.”
Violet laughed. “Judging from Rogers’ face, you’re pretty handy with a Mag-Lite. I might have to keep you around.”
“We go well together.”
She was quiet for a moment as she considered what he said. “We do, don’t we?” A thought occurred to her. “But, Francis—”
“But what?”
“You don’t like children.”
“Correction,” he said. “I don’t like children roaming wild in party stores. It’s a specific phobia with a specific set of circumstances.” He grabbed her hand, squeezed it. “So what do you say, Vee?”
Why not?
“I say yes.”
“Good.”
Francis moved over her, settling in the cradle of her thighs. One more kiss and he entered her in one long thrust, pushing until he filled her. She drew up her knees to encircle his waist and dug her fingertips into his shoulders.
Covering her neck in slow, drifting kisses, he moved in languid thrusts, taking his time. Violet held her breath, the tantalizing sensations stealing her ability to think. She drew him closer, pressing her hands against his back. Ripples of delight teased her, circling low until they burst in a fiery climax, causing her to sink her teeth into his shoulder. Her body tightened around his and she tightened her legs around his hips, urging him on.
He gave up any semblance of control and let himself go, his own climax marked only with a smothered cry and a slight shudder of his body.
Exhausted and spent, Violet floated as if in a dream, soothed by Francis’ warm, lazy strokes on her belly.
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you without your glasses.” She reached out and touched his nose. “You look younger.”
“Which is why I wear them. The bonus is, the world is not a blur.” He put both hands around her waist and pulled her closer. “You’re very warm.” He kissed the curve of her shoulder, inhaling the fragrance of her hair. “And very soft.” He yawned. “Go to sleep.”
****
In the middle of the night, Violet sat straight up in bed. Her heart raced with excitement. The software! She nudged an unconscious Francis, who opened one eye.
“The software, it’s saved. It’s on Pluto Drive in Pennsylvania. It’s the full copy, before all the glitches. It’s complete.” She shook him again. “Francis!”
“Pluto is now classified as a dwarf planet,” he murmured into the pillow. “But we’ll fix it in the morning. After we get married.”
Violet wanted to nudge him again, but decided to let him sleep. She smiled as she snuggled against him, comforted by his arm around her waist. There was enough time in the morning.
Epilogue
The banquet hall was air-conditioned in name only. Hot and crowded were two of Violet’s least favorite words and she squirmed in her upholstered seat. Dinners with speakers and presentations were the worst and being at a table with six other people you didn’t know made it even less sufferable. She glanced over at Francis and wondered why he wasn’t glistening with sweat like at least half the room was.
“I hate this dress.” She leaned her elbow on the table and propped her chin up. She jiggled her leg.
“Stop fidgeting.” He looked her up and down and then leaned over and whispered in her ear. “You look beautiful. Now sit still.”
Violet glowed in appreciation of his comment and stopped shifting in her chair. The pantyhose, heels and tight dress were restrictive, but if Francis liked them, she was willing to suffer.
His hand sought hers under the table, squeezed it and favoring her with one of his rare smiles. “Relax. The hard work’s over now.”
Violet closed her eyes for a brief moment and opened them again. She was still here, in the crowded, hot hall where the men outnumbered the women at least three to one. The life of a woman in technology.
“I’d rather be searching for a semi-colon in C++ or maybe trapped in the server room. This is torture.”
“Behave yourself, Mrs. Rushmore. Or you’ll find out what real torture is.”
Violet crossed her arms. “That’s an incentive for me to misbehave.”
“Exactly my point,” he said, and squeezed her leg under the table.
The End
Table of Contents