No Flowers Required

by Cari Quinn

  “What about those sales projections for next spring? Were you able to input them?”

  “Once I figured out your chicken scratch, yeah. The graph you set up is pretty sweet. Makes it almost effortless.”

  More points for the handyman. “Thanks, Trav. I appreciate it.”

  Once Travis disappeared into the back, she sighed happily. Things were going well. So well, in fact, that when the phone rang and she snatched it up, she almost chirped her standard greeting.

  “Hey, princess.”

  A grin stole across her face at Dillon’s voice. “Hey, stranger.”

  “How are you? You sound happy. Business going okay?”

  “Better than okay. Fabulous actually.”

  “Really? Tell me.”

  “I’d rather tell you in person.” She heard a muffled yell behind him and slitted her eyes. “If you can get away.”

  He swore under his breath and she heard a muted conversation take place between him and someone else, presumably the yeller. “I’d love to, but we need to put the finishing touches on this place today. There’s this benefit coming up…they want to unveil photos of the finished house.”

  “The Helping Hands benefit,” she said, smiling at Travis as he waved and headed out. “It’s all over town.” The yearly gala was a pretty big deal. Amazing that the house Dillon had been busting his ass on was going to be featured. Equally amazing that he gave back so much to the community.

  She resisted a little sigh. He made her stomach quiver. Either that or the soup she’d had at lunch was off. But no, it was Dillon. Had to be.

  His pause hung heavily on the line until he hissed out another oath. “Yes. Hang on a sec, baby. All hell’s breaking loose here.”

  “Sure.” Baby. He’d called her baby. And she wasn’t screaming at the term. Clearly she’d made major progress.

  Or else she’d reached the point of no return. Next they’d be spooning and calling to say “I lo—like you” just because.

  “Okay, sorry. It’s always nuts at the end.”

  “I can see you tomorrow—”

  “No. I already missed a night.”

  She couldn’t suppress her grin. So he’d missed her too.

  “Can you come by the house later? When the store closes?”

  “Your house?” This was big. They hadn’t quite made it there yet. Maybe the place was tiny or rundown or something, though with his skills she didn’t see how that could be possible. He could probably turn a shed into a chalet.

  “No, the donor house. I’d like to show you around. If you’re into it,” he added, suddenly nonchalant.

  Her smile grew. “I’m into it,” she said softly and wrote down the address he gave her.

  After closing, she went upstairs to her apartment and packed a soft-sided cooler with her brass candlesticks, a checkered tablecloth, and an alfresco meal for two. She had no idea if the house had room for them to have a picnic, but she’d love to share a meal with him outdoors even if it took place on the tailgate of his pickup.

  She grinned at her reflection in her rearview mirror as she put her car in gear. Imagine that. Alexa Elizabeth Conroy, picnicking and pickupping with a guy she was sort of in a relationship with. Who’d’ve thunk it?

  Falling for Dillon—and she couldn’t deny she was, because even accomplished self-deluders had to have a break-even point—had been the easiest thing she’d ever done. Somehow he’d been there to shore her up when she’d started to crack, and for that she owed him. Hell, it was partially due to him that she’d gotten such an insanely amazing job that afternoon and would be working her ass off to meet her deadline.

  Her mouth curved. She intended to show him her gratitude handsomely tonight.

  She found her way to the house and parked at the end of the drive behind a sprawling motorcycle. There were no other vehicles around. No noises of construction workers, which she had to admit she was a little disappointed about. Considering she’d never been to a work site before, it seemed just cruel for her not to get to see at least one buff, sweaty man.

  Hauling the strap of her cooler over her shoulder, she shut the door and glanced down at herself. Her pencil skirt and off-the-shoulder top probably weren’t the best for picnicking. At least she’d thought of bug spray, which she’d applied liberally after slathering her bare shoulders, neck, and face with sunscreen. It had to be ninety degrees in the shade.

  Then Dillon stepped out of the backyard, a long length of wood over one shoulder, and she learned what a hot flash really was.

  “Hey.” He grinned and stopped short, eyeing the cooler she held before turning his attention to her. “Damn, woman, are you trying to make me drool?”

  “Fancy talker.” She walked over to him and lifted her hand to his cheek. His eyes were so blue, like twin lasers that could see right through her. “You’re all sweaty.”

  Apparently he took that as a suggestion to back off, but she snagged a handful of his wifebeater and tugged him right back. “Don’t mind that?” he asked, setting down the lumber.

  “I’d like to rub against you like a kitten in the sunshine. Unless you consider that weird. In that case, then yes.” She gave a fake shudder. “Please don’t sweat on me.”

  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 ca
me, 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.