by Kris Pearson
He pushed his hips up toward hers. Mel breathed in, slipped her hand between their bodies, directed his cock between her swollen lips, and slid down until he was lodged deep, deep inside her. The room went suddenly darker; the air whirled with magic.
“Cody,” she murmured, leaning to kiss him. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” Tears sprang into her eyes as she started to move. This was what she’d yearned for; the willing transfer of his potent semen into her welcoming womb.
She gazed down at him as she rocked up and down. His long, smoothly muscled arms tugged against the scarves as he bucked up into her. His face stretched tight with unexplained emotions. His dark eyes held secrets she wished she could unlock.
She smoothed her hands over his chest and onto his shoulders, then bent and kissed him again—with love, for this was the gift she’d been longing for, and it was only right her child should be conceived in love.
In love and in passion, she thought, riding him harder, accepting his deep swift thrusts with gratitude and joy.
She was closer to admitting she loved him than she was comfortable with, for what future did they have together? No future at all; he’d made that very plain. He wanted no entanglements, no family, no calls upon his freedom. He did this for her in friendship only, and it would have to be enough.
She sat up straighter, bracing herself with her hands on his thighs, leaning back to alter the angle of his pumping cock.
“Tease,” he groaned. “Lean down again. Do that thing with your muscles. Squeeze me to death.”
His explicit instruction released a huge warm jolt of sensation. And although Mel started to squeeze and release and squeeze and release as he pounded into her, she was so close to coming she was there in moments. She gasped, and cried out repeatedly, her body rippling around his, milking him of his precious seed as he pulsed deep inside her.
Her last coherent thought was that she needed his arms around her. She reached out and twitched the scarf-bows undone to set him free. Cody’s hands slid over her back, warm and sure, as she collapsed down onto him and burst into huge wracking sobs of relief and confusion and hope.
Once she’d calmed, they lay together in wordless silence until he eased her over onto her back and, still buried deep, kissed her eyelids with infinite tenderness.
“You’re still hard,” she murmured.
“Trying to keep a cork in the bottle. Can’t have all my boys running out again now they’ve finally scored their home run.”
Mel shook with laughter which almost dislodged him. “God—maybe you’re right. Shall I put my legs in the air?
“After sex like that you can put your legs anywhere you like.” He eased out and lay for a moment looking down into her eyes. “Best ever. Nothing’s ever been close. I’ll be back for more.”
He sat up, and then with a huge grin grabbed her, turned her around, and pulled her legs up against the bed-end, tying them in place with the scarves which still hung from the bars. She lay giggling as he headed into the ensuite.
Chapter Eleven—Evicting Andrew
Days later, deeply content, day-dreaming outrageously, Mel lay sprawled in a lounger beside the pool, trying to read but not able to concentrate. At long last the doorbell pealed.
Cody! He was due back from Auckland today. She’d grudgingly agreed his mother could have him for a short Christmas visit as long as he returned in good time to spend New Year in Wellington.
She’d missed him deeply, because true to his word he’d been back for more. And more. They’d spent every available minute together, and the baby project had taken second place to enjoying each other’s company.
Dropping the book, she sprang to her feet and hurried through the house to greet him. She pulled the door wide open and gasped when she found a very different man.
“Nice bikini, Sis.”
Her brother’s unchanged leer turned her blood to ice. He was now ten years older, thin and hard-faced. Hair shaved to nothing, blue eyes, once so similar to hers, holding no warmth at all.
“You’re back,” she managed, edging away from him. Andrew took this as an invitation to enter, and once he was in, he had Mel trapped.
He glanced around, his gaze jealously assessing. “Mom’s right—you’re doing well. Too bloody well. I’ve come for my share.”
She fought for composure, heart pounding, head tight, all the old emotions Andy always stirred in her rising in a choking mess. “You’ve seen her?”
“Not home. Not there to welcome the prodigal son.”
Mel nodded. That made sense. “She went to Prague.”
“What the hell’s she doing in Prague? No, don’t bother, I don’t want to know. But I need money. Some to make life bearable right now, and a hell of a lot more to make it comfortable later on.”
“You’re not getting any more from me, Andy.”
He turned on her, mouth twisted, eyes burning with unholy fire. “What’s this more crap? I haven’t had any so far.”
Mel thought of the allowance she’d arranged for Lloyd Brentworth to transfer to Andrew’s prison account every month for the last ten years. Money of her own, honestly earned.
“You’ve had more than you deserve, if that’s how grateful you are,” she snapped. “Where do you think your monthly payments came from?”
He ignored that. “Grateful? What the fuck have I got to be grateful about? You all left me to rot. My family and friends… the fucking Government...”
“You were a cocaine smuggler, caught red-handed! We hired the best defense lawyers possible. Mom and Dad went to Thailand to see what they could arrange for you. You know that—you saw them in the courtroom.”
“Pack of bullshitters.”
He stalked past her and inspected the rest of the ground floor, running envious eyes over the big rooms with their avant-garde furnishings until he stopped at the open doors flanking the big courtyard and pool. “You’ve got it soft, Mel, and you’re not getting away with the lot. Dad worked hard for the money, and I’m his son. It should be mine.”
She came to an abrupt halt behind him and her temper finally erupted. “Rob and I worked hard for the money, Andrew. For ten long years, with no help from you. You’re still a spoiled money-grubbing kid apparently. Gimmie, gimmie, gimmie, the way you always were.” She dashed at tears he didn’t deserve shed for him.
“Rob and I,” he mimicked. He’s no good to you now.”
Melanie’s spine tautened. “Don’t be so damn cruel,” she snapped. “I hoped all that time in jail would have knocked some sense into you. You can’t just breeze back into the country expecting to be welcomed with open arms. Not after what you did.”
They faced each other, furious. Mel’s heartbeat accelerated, her hands trembled.
The doorbell pealed again.
***
“Go outside and sit,” she ordered, hoping if it was Cody arriving this time she could somehow persuade him to return later.
She raced back to the door and opened it only part way. It certainly was Cody—preceded by a bouquet so huge she had to swing the door open a great deal wider.
“Happy New Year, boss,” he said, setting the flowers on the round table in the lobby and pulling her into his arms. His impatient lips stifled her protests that ‘now was not a good time’ and ‘I already have a visitor’. He kissed her so thoroughly she almost forgot Andrew’s unwelcome presence until she heard her brother grate, “So is this the pilot?”
She and Cody swung around like a couple of puppets. Cody wasn’t in uniform—how the hell could Andrew know who he was?
“Andrew Kennedy—Cody Mitchell,” she said with bad grace.
Cody offered his hand.
Andrew ignored it. “The pilot who’s trying to muscle in on my sister’s money?” he leered.
“Shut it, Andrew—he most certainly is not!”
“I can handle him, Mel,” Cody said quietly.
“Like you’ve been handling my sister? I know all about your sneaky scheme—get he
r pregnant and make off with the airline.”
“What the hell?” Cody blazed.
“It’s nothing like that!” Melanie yelled.
Andrew sneered. “That’s the way Lloyd tells the story.”
“Who’s Lloyd?” Cody demanded.
“Lloyd’s her lawyer,” Andrew gloated. “And my old drinking buddy from university. Lloyd’s been looking after me. Sending me money.”
“My money!”
“Yeah, right. It was my money—money Dad should have set aside for me.”
“It was Mel’s money,” Cody roared, apparently torn between acute embarrassment at such unfair accusations and the desire to defend Mel from her snake of a brother. “Mel’s money—and don’t you forget it.”
“Leave it, Cody!”
“Like hell I’ll leave it. And how the fuck does he know about the planes-for-babies thing?”
“He doesn’t know.”
“That’s what you think.” Andrew’s expression made Mel’s blood run cold. “When I didn’t find Mom at home, I gave my old buddy Lloyd a ring. Wanted to thank him for looking after me and keeping the money coming.”
Melanie gave an enraged sniff, and from the corner of her eye, she saw Cody’s fists clench.
“So we went out for a few drinks. Got a bit wasted. Lloyd’s a talker when he’s had too much al-kay-hol.”
“Stop it, Andy,” she begged.
“Like hell. This is the most fun I’ve had in years. He told me all about your little visit to his office at Halloween. All about your crazy deal. Two babies for a share of CustomAir. Sheesh!” Andrew dragged in a deep vindictive breath. “Not that you’ll ever have any kids of course, with your stuffed-up tubes or whatever.”
He couldn’t have hurt her more if he’d stabbed her in the gut.
“Halloween?” Cody queried in a voice cold enough to freeze flames. “You talked about this with your lawyer two months ago? Before you asked me?”
“Got it all signed up on paper,” Andrew crowed. “She’s such a silly bitch, pretending she’ll give away part of CustomAir for a couple of bawling babies. She can’t have any—Mom said so in one of her letters.”
Melanie blanched. Her mother had told Andy that?
Pure fury finally erupted. “A fat lot she’d know,” she screamed. “Swanning off overseas with all her arty theatrical stuff and expecting me to look after the business.” She stood there panting, the unfairness of the whole scene demolishing her last shreds of composure.
“Let’s just go through this again so I’m very clear,” Cody insisted, moving a step away from her. “You worked out a deal with your lawyer a couple of months ago. A deal that said you were willing to swap part of CustomAir for two of my children—weeks before you even approached me about it. Have I got that right, Melanie?”
Her hands rose toward him, beseeching him to listen and understand. “It’s not the way it sounds.”
Cody’s ferocious expression made her throat convulse as though her lunch might come spewing back any moment.
He took another step back. “What other way can it sound?”
“You’re twisting it,” she said wretchedly.
“What other way can it sound?” he yelled, lunging forward and grabbing her by the shoulders so she had to look straight at him. His eyes burned huge and dark and furious, and there was no tenderness in his hands.
“You’re hearing it just the way it is,” Andrew inserted. “She sorted you out as her sex-toy and decided for her own loony reasons to put the offer on paper.”
“Get the hell out!” Mel shouted at him, breaking away from Cody’s grasp to wrench the front door open. “Get out of my house, Andrew. Get out of my life. You’ve had all the money you’re ever getting from me. Get out and stay out.”
Andrew’s face contorted into a mocking sneer. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyers, Mel.”
“I won’t be listening, you stinking bastard.”
She heaved the door closed behind him with a resounding thud and burst into angry hiccupping sobs. How could her own family wreck her life so viciously?
“Open it. I’m going too.”
She turned toward Cody again. His face had utterly closed up.
“It’s not the way he makes it sound,” she wailed as hot tears leaked from her aching eyes and her breath shuddered in and out in agonizing gasps. “I didn’t choose you for a sex-toy. I wanted you to be the father of my children. I wanted it legal—I wanted you rewarded. That’s why I got bloody Lloyd to draw up the documents.”
He stared her down, unmoved. “I got rewarded, Mel. I got a hot little cutie to play with in bed. A man can’t ask for more than that.” He swung away from her. “Good luck with your next fool—although if your tubes really are blocked, you’re deluding yourself more than somewhat.”
“Endometriosis,” she whispered. “They finally found the piece that was such a problem for all those years.”
“Whatever,” he tossed at her, pulling the door open, and making it obvious he wouldn’t be touching her. “See if old Arch McKay is up for some casual work until you can replace me, eh? I got an offer from Dubai the other day—some sheikh with too much money and not enough time. Nice plane, nice conditions.” He stopped a moment, halfway out of the house. “This little scene is just what I needed to make me decide to take the job.”
She stared at him, open mouthed, wet faced, not giving a damn what she looked like any more. Cody was going? Going half a world away, just when she’d found him? “I don’t want Arch McKay...”
“You’re going to need him for a while; you don’t have me any longer.” He yanked the door closed behind him.
***
Mel felt very tempted to throw Cody’s bouquet in the garbage. She stood staring at the flowers, hot-eyed and distraught. They were beautiful, fragrant, flamboyant, but would be a daily reminder of the man who’d just walked out of her life.
In the end, she decided having the flowers was better than having nothing at all, and carried them through to the kitchen. She found her largest vase, filled it with water, and lifted the bouquet to plunge the stems into it. Only then, as the leaves and petals glided down past her naked skin, did she realize the whole ridiculous, tragic scene with Andrew and Cody had been conducted while she was wearing a barely decent bikini. If Cody could walk out while there was so much of her on display, he must truly be immune to her.
She set the flowers on the casual dining table where they’d eaten steaks just days ago. There were huge red lilies in the bouquet; their scent sweet and overpowering. Wrinkling her nose, she picked the vase up and carried it through to the formal sitting room where the cloying fragrance would be further away.
Once they started to fade a few days later, she quickly threw them out, trying not to regret losing that link with him.
A week after that, she found her favorite blend of coffee had an odd metallic taste.
As the days went by, she became more and more exhausted and emotional; she presumed it was the aftermath of her argument with Andrew and her breakup with Cody.
Then she realized her period hadn’t arrived.
Chapter Twelve—Surprises
For Cody, the Middle East contract spun out in an endless series of waiting, gritting his teeth, flying in unfamiliar airspace over dry, mostly featureless country, tugging his metaphorical forelock, flying, waiting, enduring scorching heat and freezing air-con, flying some more, and being totally at Sheikh Ahmed’s beck and call. The money was generous, the accommodation excellent, and he was bored out of his brain.
Mel shimmered constantly in his mind like a mirage in the heat soaked desert. He’d endured three years of wanting her, an intense few days of possessing her, and then plummeted into a burning hell-pit from which he could find no escape.
He’d never committed to any woman so completely. Never before been willing to offer up absolute control to another human being. And never had his trust so thoroughly abused.
Andrew’s vicious words s
wam around and around in his head.
“She sorted you out for a sex-toy.”
When he’d slammed the door on her and driven down the steep hill roads like a maniac, he’d been fuming and hurt beyond belief. Only the greatest good luck had prevented him from colliding with any other cars and causing hideous injuries to himself or hapless strangers.
Deep in the long nights—as he twisted and tossed, sleepless for hours—as the air conditioning whirred softly and unfamiliar night-birds screeched in the darkness outside, Mel floated by to join him. Almost real enough to touch. Almost beautiful enough to forgive. Almost treacherous enough to kill.
“She sorted you out for a sex-toy.”
How much did that really matter almost a year later? Most men would be flattered. Wouldn’t believe their good luck.
Cody had enjoyed being her sex-toy. Enjoyed using her in return. He still couldn’t get her out of his mind, and thought of her every time he stroked himself to orgasm, trying not to gasp out her name.
But she’d lied to him. Gained his trust and abused it. He’d fallen hard for the first time ever, and she’d stomped his heart underfoot without seeming to care. She could go to hell forever.
There’d been no communication between them. Cody had ensured she couldn’t track him down, couldn’t tempt him back. He wanted so much to be through with Melanie Kennedy Anderson and her gorgeous willing body and her devious rich-bitch games. Before he’d left Wellington he’d instructed his lawyer and his mother that no letters or calls from Mel were to be forwarded, and hadn’t disclosed his physical address to friends.
When an international courier package arrived in early December he cut it open without a second thought and drew out the sheaf of papers it contained.
He found a letter, and copies of legal documents signed by one Lloyd Brentworth of Tibbets Ainsley and Brenthworth, Barristers and Solicitors of Wellington.
Lloyd Brenthworth. The name teased at his memory.
