No Flowers Required (16 page)

Laughing, he took her cooler and grabbed her hand as they strolled into the backyard. “I want to show you the house. Then we’ll figure out that rubbing thing.”

Her first impression was of abundant space. The yard was huge and fenced in white, the perfect inspiration for a romantic’s dream. Lush green grass and a few perennials added to the feeling that the home was well tended, though the flowers looked less than cheerful in the heat. “You could do more with the landscaping,” he said, noticing her focus.

“Cabbage roses would be lovely here. Spreading out from near the foundation. They’re fussy, but they’d fit in perfectly with a cottage like this.” She shielded her eyes from the sun and inwardly cursed at forgetting her sunglasses back at the shop. “A cottage with solar panels,” she added with a smile.

“Yeah.” He dragged his forearm over his forehead. “Just did those last week. We tried to honor the integrity of the original design, but so much of the house had to be replaced that I figured the benefits of adding them would offset the visual.”

“They don’t look out of place.”

“Much,” he teased, opening the back door and ushering her inside the cool, modernized home.

It was gorgeous. The home had exposed wood-beamed ceilings overhead, and pale walls and natural bamboo flooring throughout, which she identified without him telling her, much to his enjoyment. While they walked, he talked about quarried stone and low-flow fixtures and countertops made from a special resin that consisted of recycled content. His excitement spurred her own, and by the time they reached the front porch, she was grinning like a fool.

“You’re like a little kid with environmentally sanctioned toys.”

He glanced at her and smiled sheepishly. “I’m boring you.”

“No way. This is so fascinating. I can’t believe how much work you and the other volunteers have put into this house.” And yet there was barely a sign they’d been there. Everything had been tidied up. The only evidence was the leftover southern pine Dillon had toted out to the side yard.

“We could’ve used you though, for the curb appeal aspect.” He stared out toward the manicured front lawn. “You’d probably make these homes into showpieces.”

“You’ve done that already. I’m so impressed, Dillon. Really.”

“Thank you. I just hope John’s happy here.” He pulled her under his arm and brushed a kiss over her temple as they stared across the lawn. “His mom lives nearby. He’s excited to spend time with her after his tours in Iraq.”

“It’s amazing. Truly.”

“Amazing enough you’d go to the Helping Hands benefit with me when they unveil the pictures?” His body braced as he asked the question. Did he really think she would say no? “It would really mean a lot to me if you came, Alexa.”

She couldn’t stop the grin that broke across her face. “I’d love to. I love what you’ve done to the house. And I love—” She broke off and bit her lip. “Sex,” she finished.

That was better than what she’d almost said, something so utterly ridiculous and unexpected that she could only chalk it up to the heat and how impressed she was with his work. They barely knew each other. Weren’t big feelings supposed to develop gradually over time, not burst up out of nowhere?

“Really. I never guessed.” Lips twitching, he turned toward her and laid his hands on her shoulders. “Let’s go grab that cooler from the kitchen and spread out in the backyard.”

“Okay,” she said weakly, though she wasn’t sure more sun would help.

Sure enough, they were soon spread out in the backyard—but not with the picnic lunch they’d packed. The cooler still sat untouched on the edge of the tablecloth. No matter, Dillon had discovered a better feast than cold fried chicken.

Namely her breasts.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” she gasped as he pulled her off-the-shoulder top and strapless bra down so that her breasts plumped over the top.

“I can. Jesus, I love this tattoo.” He spanned his fingers over her breast and flicked his tongue against the dark pink nipple. “I’m dying to get inside you again.”

It had only been a couple days, but it didn’t seem to matter. She already quivered with need and he nudged her arousal higher with every lick. Every nuzzle and bite. “Me too. I want you so bad.”

“You’ve got me.”

He switched his attention to her other breast while he dove his hand under her skirt to stroke her lace-topped garters. She wore them all the time now just in case, and he grunted his appreciation as he sucked on her breast. Then he was sliding a hand between her thighs, widening them despite the pencil skirt, and she whimpered at the brush of rough fingers over her satin panties.

Her very
wet
panties.

He shoved them aside and speared her with one insistent finger. Today he didn’t take his time with foreplay. It was all about speed and urgency and impatient rubs over her throbbing core.

“So fucking slick. It’s like you’re dying for me too, that you can’t get enough.” He spoke against her cleavage as he played his fingers up and down her seam, torturing her with the light caresses before seeking out her tight bundle of nerves and thumbing the distended flesh.

The sunshine beat down on her scalp, on her shoulders, but she didn’t care. She longed for him to experience the fever that consumed her. To feel it too.

She tugged at his shirt, wanting them to be skin-to-skin. His hard chest pressing against her bare breasts, his strong hips battering hers and stimulating that swollen spot he might as well have tattooed his name on, because it so belonged to him. She yanked his shirt over his head and tossed it aside, gasping as he gripped her waist and flipped her on top of him so that her breasts dangled close to his mouth.

“Ride me like this.” He pulled up her skirt and tore her panties off her, then spread her thighs wide with his thumbs. “You’re so wet, baby. Glistening in the sun. I wanna see it on me.” He reared up and claimed her nipple, rolling it between his teeth while their gazes collided.

The crude talk didn’t put her off. Instead it allowed her to give free rein to her own wicked desires. Especially since a damn near forest shielded their secluded “picnic” area from the neighbors. A definite plus.

She undid his jeans and shoved down his boxers, revealing the long, golden length of him. He seemed to harden even more under her perusal, and then the slow jerks of her hand as she worked him to a frenzy. Because she knew how much he got off on watching her, she made a show of circling the nipple surrounded by purple petals that drew so much of his fascination. All the while, she stroked his erection, pulling harder and harder until he arched his fine-as-hell body and grabbed handfuls of the grass above his head.

“You going for a quick finish, princess? ’Cause you’re about to get your wish,” he gritted, his arm muscles rippling to match the flex of his abdomen. And that beautiful cock, growing even thicker and stretching into her waiting grip.

“Uh-uh. No finishes unless they’re in me.” She licked her lips and his eyes almost rolled back in his head. “Or in my mouth.”

“Goddammit, Lex. Suck me.”

His growl streaked pleasure through her quaking, overheated body, and she couldn’t comply fast enough. She lowered to her elbows and enfolded his shaft in her fist as she took a taste of him, one hungry lick from tip to balls. He lunged up off the tablecloth then sank back down, his arms extending again so he could pluck at the grass just beyond the tablecloth.

“Easy,” she hummed against his erection. “Not your grass.”

“Fuck, woman. Then stop teasing me.”

She grinned. “But it’s so fun.” Even so, she took pity on him and slid her damp lips over the head, drawing lightly while she flattened her tongue and sipped his arousal. His massive thighs tensed and he pushed his jeans and boxers farther down, as if he wanted more of her skin against his. As if he wanted her still-partially-bound breasts to rub up against him while she sucked him and made him pant.

“Seeing you like this…in the sun…your mouth all the way around me and your nipples bouncing…” He couldn’t seem to form sentences, but the picture he painted made her squirm and press her sticky thighs together. She pulled on him more strongly and reached beneath her skirt to where she was so painfully aroused that even her own fingers startled her enough moan out around his length. “Oh yeah, baby. Touch yourself. Let me see.”

Some part of her couldn’t believe she was rising to her feet and stepping out of her skirt so that she could continue giving her lover a blow job in the backyard of another person’s house. In the sunshine. Where potentially anyone could see, if they had binoculars or excellent timing. Perversely, the idea of being caught only made her more excited.

She knelt at his side and took him in hand again. “Watch,” she murmured, though he already was, leaning up on his elbows as she slid her fingers along her sex.

“Oh, I am,” he grated. “Trust me.”

Smiling, she darted her tongue over his cock while she teased herself. Gathering the moisture on her fingertips before slipping a digit inside. She knew from his low groan that he was studying the tight clasp of her body surrounding her knuckle. Swelling around it. She sucked him into her mouth again, farther than before, not balking as he knotted his hand in her hair and guided her up and down his rigid length. Never pushing her too far, just enough to thrill her even more.

“Enough.” He let go of her hair and dropped his head back, the defined cords of his neck standing out at his rapid intakes of breath. “Fuck me.”

“Since you asked so nice…” Alexa rimmed her swollen lips with her tongue and straddled him, making sure that his eyes were on hers as she sank down on his cock.

“Wait.” She poised halfway down his length. “Condom?” he managed, and she shook her head.

“We’re good.” She moaned at his stiff flesh curving just right inside her, inflaming every nerve ending in her sex. “On the pill. You’re clean?”

“Late now…to ask. But yeah. I am.” He grabbed hold of her hips and levered off the ground, rocking all the way into her with a sure thrust that damn near blew her head off.

“Me too. Fuck, yes, that feels good.”

She bowed her spine, her hair trailing over his thighs as he coasted his hands up her torso and palmed her breasts. And then they were skidding into madness, their hips slamming together, his pelvic bone hitting her clit just right to make her vision haze. She was on fire, the sun scalding her face and shoulders, heat scorching her from his deep, powerful strokes.

“God, you’re beautiful.” He rubbed her clit with his rough fingertips. “So sexy.”

Goose bumps popped out on her skin, chased by the perspiration that made them both slick. His mouth seized her tattooed breast, the damp flicks on her tormented flesh more tinder for the blaze swallowing her whole.

When his mouth slanted over hers, she moaned, grateful for the supportive arms that wrapped around her while he impaled her over and over again. She dragged her nails down his back, drawing blood probably, shredding skin, but all she could do was ride him like he was the salvation she’d been waiting for all her life.

This wasn’t just a quick outdoor screw. He made her feel so much, until she was sure she’d come undone from all the emotions rioting inside her.

Her heart didn’t care how fast they’d crashed into bed. All it knew was that finally she had someone to hold her, someone to whisper, “let go, baby, I’ve got you,” and she knew he did. He wouldn’t let her fall.

Except on that score, it was already too late.

The fireball behind her eyes exploded, and she came in a blinding rush of pleasure. “Dillon.” His name singed her lips an instant before he sealed his mouth to hers and fed her starved lungs with his breath.

She rocked on him with abandon, saturating him in her release, then yanking him with her when he couldn’t hold on any longer. The last thing she heard was Dillon’s shout as they hurtled into bliss.

Chapter Nine

Lying tangled together in the grass with the setting sun cooling their heated skin, Dillon thought he’d found heaven. She fit perfectly in his arms, and her head rested on his chest as if it belonged there. As if she would never leave.

“I’m freaking hungry.”

He smiled and stroked her tousled hair away from her cheek. “I appreciate you bringing me dinner.”

“Well, it was for me too, though I didn’t really dress right for a picnic.” She made a face. “I’m not exactly the outdoorsy type. I don’t even own a pair of jeans.”

His stomach sank to his knees. “So you probably wouldn’t be up for fishing with me, huh?”

“Chances are high I’d squeal and complain the whole time, but I’d give it a try.”

She was making it so easy to fall for her. Either that or he simply didn’t have the power to fight gravity any longer. “For me,” he said, swallowing hard.

“For you,” she agreed. Her stomach burbled and she laughed. “Can we eat now?”

“Soon, I promise.” Instead of sitting up to get the food, he tucked her head against his shoulder. He was so greedy for her. Just a couple minutes more. “I’d like to take you out on my motorcycle sometime. With your arms around my waist and no other sounds but the wind and the bike between our legs. You’d love it.”

“Aren’t bikes dangerous?”

“Only if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

“And you do?”

“You know it, baby.” She rolled her eyes at his smug grin and he couldn’t resist cuddling her just that much closer. “Let me take you out on my bike.”

She blinked, obviously still unsure. Her bluebonnet eyes wove a spell around him, and damn if he ever wanted to see his way clear. “When?”

His pulse bumped. Saturday was the night of the benefit. The days between now and then were growing shorter by the hour. “How’s Friday?”

He’d go all out to plan a romantic evening and he’d finally tell her truth. Whatever it took, he’d make her sure she understood that all he’d wanted was to help her. Some of what he’d done might’ve been misguided, but his heart had always been in the right place.

As for the rest of him…that was up to interpretation. But she couldn’t fault him for wanting her so much he couldn’t think straight, could she?

Yeah. She probably could.

“Friday’s okay. It has to be later in the evening, though.”

“Right, the store’s open late. That’s fine. We’ll take a ride, have dinner. Enjoy the evening.”

“It might even be later than normal.” A slow smile broke across her face. “Divine got a job. It’s a quick turnaround too.”

“Really?” Thrilled for her, he squeezed her against his side and dropped a kiss on top of her hair. “That’s terrific. Tell me all about it.”

“I will.” She granted him a megawatt Alexa grin. And it was all for him. “Since it’s all thanks to you. Well, mostly.”

Curiosity piqued, he sat up and began to unpack the contents of the cooler. Then he lit the candles and sat back to view her lovely face in the flickering glow. “Going to tell me more?”

“It involves your brilliant idea, a party that suddenly wasn’t complete without your brilliant idea on the tables, and a rush job that might lead to more if I can keep up with how fast your brilliant idea is selling. Guess I’ve turned into the queen of quickie jobs, but I don’t mind that title.” While he processed all that, she sidled closer and made a show of looking him up and down. “Eating naked? What will the neighbors think?”

“If they haven’t already called the cops, I think they’re probably open-minded enough not to mind.”

She rewarded him with her soft laughter and an even softer kiss. Her taste careened through his system. Everything faded away but him and Alexa, and candlelight, and the sultry summer air that surrounded them.

Then she slipped back, eyes shimmering with the pink light of sunset, mouth wet and mischievous. Her smile widened at his expectant breath. “So what would you say if I asked you to help with that rush deadline I told you about?”

He grinned, already juggling his commitments in his head. He’d do whatever was necessary to make the time. “I’d say you owe me dinner if you want me to put out.”

…

Over the next two days, he learned the meaning of true exhaustion.

He twisted, and shaped, and pinned until his fingers were numb. His “creations”—he couldn’t in good conscience call them floral designs, though they did seem to improve as his volume increased—wouldn’t win any awards. When he put them next to Nellie’s and especially Alexa’s, to him they stood out like sparkly thumbs. But Alexa just shoved more materials into his hands.

They kept going late into the evening on Thursday, then started again bright and early on Friday. Nellie brought her own form of ballast in the form of Alexa’s older brother, Jake, who seemed to spend as much time watching Dillon as he did fumbling through his own arrangements. But the help was definitely appreciated.

It took all four of them working their asses off until after nine. Alexa counted up the arrangements, loudly declared the operation a rousing success, and immediately toasted Nellie with the sparkling grape juice she’d been holding in reserve. Then the two of them disappeared into the back room.

Jake cornered him before he’d even taken his first sip. Dillon would’ve been more prepared for his attack had he not been consumed with staring after Alexa. The black seams of her stockings climbing up the backs of her shapely legs had tormented him all damn day.

“I have a black belt in karate,” Jake said in an undertone.

So much for pleasant reveries of licking his way up the backs of Alexa’s calves. “Great,” Dillon replied. “I, ah, have always liked Bruce Lee movies.”

“I wanted you to understand who you’re dealing with. I know you’re banging my sister.”

Dillon stared straight ahead, sure he’d misheard him. Maybe Jake had said seeing, which translated into banging in Dillon’s mind. It was possible. “Excuse me?”

Jake let out an aggrieved breath. “Fine. Dating. Though it doesn’t sound like dating much to me. You fixed her sink, then what, you decided she could tip you with her body?”

How was he supposed to answer that one? “Of course not. We’ve been in church every night, despite what your wife’s obviously told you.”

He half-expected for Jake’s fist to collide with the sparkling juice on its way to his face. Instead all he got was a low laugh. “Right. We spent some time in church ourselves before we got married.”

The ladies returned with more sparkling juice, Nellie talking on her cell while exchanging hot looks with her husband. Alexa watched them with a wistful expression while she sorted through her endless reams of paperwork.

Now that Dillon had helped her create a few more graphs and charts, she had begun noting every supply she used on a checklist, right down to paper clips. She was an organizational freak’s idea of a dream date.

When she glanced over at Dillon and winked, he had to shift at the sudden tightening in his jeans. Or a handyman-slash-business owner’s, since he definitely dreamed about dating Alexa—and much more.

“Looks like it turned out pretty good for you guys,” he said, tilting his cup toward Nellie.

“Yes, it did,” Jake agreed, his gaze riveted on his wife. “But we had history. You and Lex barely know each other. And church or no church, biblically doesn’t count.”

Dillon smothered a laugh in a cough. “I hear you. You’re right. We have a lot to learn about each other.” He glanced back at Alexa and noticed she’d switched to sifting through her mail. Right on top lay the glossy real estate magazine that contained a spotlight on the gala this month—and featured him.
Shit
. “But I’m willing to put in the time. I want to,” he added, already backing away from Jake.

Dammit, he had to get his hands on that magazine before he talked to her. Or else he wouldn’t need to bother.

“So she’s not just some random woman to you,” Jake stated, his narrowed eyes never leaving Dillon. “You’re not going to break her heart.”

The first part was true. The second, he had little control over, at least anymore. What he’d set into motion could only be stopped with the truth.

So, basically, he was fucked.

He glanced at Alexa again and watched her run the eraser of her pencil over her mouth. So damn sexy. She could fondle a stapler and he’d get hard. Christ.

“She means something to me.” Way too much.

Jake studied him for a moment longer, then nodded and tossed back the rest of his drink. “Look, I know what it’s like to think you’re not good enough for someone. It took Nellie a while to prove it to me.” Jake’s smile showed he was taking a trip down memory lane, and from his expression, he wasn’t visiting the clean neighborhoods. “Lex’ll convince you eventually. If you want to be convinced, that is.”

Unsure how to respond, Dillon glanced down at his clothes as Jake ambled away. The guy saw him as the handyman in ragged jeans and a T-shirt, so naturally he assumed Dillon would doubt his attractiveness to an elegant woman like Alexa.

But what if he was right? What if part of the reason he hadn’t yet come clean to Lex was because he wondered himself if Value Hardware—and by extension him—was the greedy, insensitive industrialist she’d accused it of being?

And if so, what the hell was he going to do about it?

“Attention everybody!” Nellie’s voice rang out over the music and Alexa and Jake’s voices. “My best friend has an announcement.”

Dillon’s stomach tensed. Now what?

Alexa beamed and waved a piece of mail that looked like a check. “Along with us kicking ass on the Yancy job—thank you very much—I got the money from the sale of the house today. So you know what that means, right?” She opened a drawer and withdrew a stack of papers. With a flourish, she dumped them in her wire trash basket and took out her lighter. “Time for these suckers to burn, baby, burn. Overdue? Screw you.” She laughed and set the corner of one alight. “Only for a minute, I promise,” she added at Nellie’s anxious expression. “It’ll be the smallest fire ever.”

The environmentalist in him balked at the possible ramifications of starting a blaze, but that didn’t explain the quick seizing of his chest.

She was burning the notices from Cory. From him, even if he’d never known they existed before a couple of weeks ago.

The sound of the flames licking the paper disappeared in a flurry of whoops and laughter, followed by the sound of a cork exploding. “The real stuff this time.” Alexa grinned and poured the bubbly into her glass. “Sorry, Nellie. We’ll celebrate for you.”

He had to get out of there. Even his presence was tainting what should be a joyous occasion, because all he could do was stand in the corner and watch Alexa commemorate what might very well lead to the end of their relationship.

How had he believed he could just tell her the truth when it suited him? His reasons were just that—
his
reasons. Even if he’d been trying to help. Even if he’d wanted her to succeed so badly that he’d lost sight of what that might mean for them.

Even if he lo—

His phone rang and her gaze shot to him. Her vulnerability and confusion shone in her huge eyes. There were questions there, and the answers he’d been so ready to spill—so fucking sure he’d make it work, because it had to—were also on the verge of going up in smoke.

He glanced at his cell, then strode to her and wrapped her in a brief, tight hug. “Congratulations, baby,” he whispered against her hair, unwilling to let her go. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Me too. Thank you.” She looked up at him and bit her lip. The gulf between them yawned wide, as tangible as the glass of champagne she clutched. “Want a drink?”

“I got a call. I have to go.”

“Oh, okay. But you’ll be back?”

The echo of what she’d said that day in her bathroom gave him another pang, this time square in his gut. “Yeah, I’ll be back,” he said quietly, already stepping away. He slid the incriminating magazine off the counter and held it up. “Mind if I borrow this?”

She frowned, but nodded. “Sure.”

“Thanks. Have fun, Alexa. You earned this.”

As he turned, he glimpsed the papers kindling in the garbage can. Smoke curled in the air, searing his throat.

Then Jake put out the minuscule fire and the flickers of flame went dark.

…

Where the hell was he?

There’d been some sort of weird vibe between her and Dillon when he’d left, but she knew he was thrilled for the progress she’d made. Not only was she starting to have an actual steady stream of business, she could finally pay off Cory just as soon as the money from her house cleared her bank. Everything was falling into place.

Including her relationship with Dillon. That’s what it was—an honest-to-God relationship. They’d started to build something real and she couldn’t wait to see what happened next.

If he ever came back, anyway.

To keep herself busy, she tidied the store and sprayed a little cinnamon air freshener to dispel the last of the smoke smell. It probably hadn’t been the smartest move to set off a fire indoors but she’d needed to do something concrete to celebrate. She’d left the past in the past and she was moving on into her very bright future.

And she was a little drunk.

Not too much. Just enough to incite a buzz in her bloodstream. She couldn’t wait to see Dillon. Tonight would be the best night of her life. She wasn’t even scared to get on his bike anymore. Right now she wasn’t scared of anything.

The jingle of bells made her glance up and grin. The sight of his welcome face and that spiky little crown of hair he kept mumbling about getting cut made her so happy that she charged him, taking him off guard as she leaped into his arms. He staggered, barely holding on to her, and she sealed her mouth to his, drawing on his full lower lip until he groaned. “Lexa, wait—”

“I like that. Lexa. So sexy.” She bit his flesh and caressed the wound with her tongue. He tasted like the rain that had just started slipping down the windows and she could see the droplets beading on his temples. “Call me that when you’re inside me. Here. Right here.”

“Wait. No. Alexa,” he said pointedly as he slid her down his body and her heels thudded on the parquet floor. “We need to talk.”