When Good Things Happen to Bad Boys

by Lori Foster, Erin McCarthy, HelenKay Dimon

Then before she realized what he was doing, he had dropped down between her legs and kissed her. There. Where she felt it shoot through her insides like an electrical surge.

  “Oh!” Well, that was eloquent.

  It was instinctive to try and close her thighs, but that only clamped her flesh on either side of Dylan’s head and shoved him farther into her crotch. Startled, she dropped them back open. Wide.

  Which didn’t work either.

  Dylan merely reached out, spread her apart with his fingers, and licked her.

  At that point, she stopped caring.

  Gripping the duvet, she fell back and started speaking in tongues. “Oh, ah, ye-, bu-, geez, he-,” all flowed out of her mouth in incoherent babbling as he stroked up and down from the very tip of her clitoris to way down low, lower than it had ever occurred to her you could go.

  Just when she thought her heart would actually burst out of her chest like an alien entity, he lifted up. And licked his lips.

  “Mmm.”

  There was a gorgeous professional baseball player between her legs licking his lips like he’d had a good meal. This had to be a wet dream. Or whatever you called them when women had them. She didn’t usually, but this had to be a dream, because there was no way this could be happening to her.

  Dylan bent his head again and did something that made her sit halfway up. Shit, this was real, because she never would have even thought a man could do that. She was pretty sure he was sucking on her, because there were little slurping noises and a tug-pull sensation right at the tip of her…Yowsa.

  She was point five seconds away from coming when he let go.

  Violet lay on the bed and panted.

  “Like that?” He crawled up along her, his erection pressing into her thigh, brushing against her curls, and sending another little shock of lust rippling through her.

  Holy crap, she actually wanted him inside her. She ached to have him inside her. Now. This was very, very strange and she hoped like heck it would last, because damn, damn, it was good.

  Dylan’s mouth closed around her nipple and he sucked, good and hard, with the kind of pressure that had her straining on the mattress, arching up to him, digging her feet into the bed, clawing at his shoulders. Then the other one—lick, suck, pull, and back to the first. Then over to the other, and back again, until she was slick everywhere on her chest, her inner thighs were dripping with desire, her cries were loud and urgent, her breasts were tingling with sensation.

  There was time for one kiss on her lips, his tongue dipping deep inside, twirling and swirling around hers with the musky taste of her own desire, then he was gone again, descending over her chest, fingers plucking, lips sucking on his way by, before he reached her pussy.

  Violet had always hated the “P” word. It reminded her of a randy Tom Jones frolicking with Vegas showgirls, and pubescent boys trying to be dirty as they scrawled it over bathroom walls. But for the first time in her twenty-eight years, she felt like she had something more than a vagina, designed to birth children. She had something just for sex, something for pleasure, not function, and when Dylan thrust with his tongue deep inside her, it went into her pussy, damn it, and it felt really, really sexy.

  She figured the sexual liberation of Violet Caruthers was complete when she grabbed onto his hair, rammed his head deeper into her, and yelled, “Oh, Dylan, yes!” at volumes she hadn’t even thought she was capable of.

  And she wasn’t the least bit embarrassed.

  So when Dylan jerked back and moved up the length of her, she knew what was coming, and she wanted it. Seriously, big-time wanted it.

  His hair was sticking up from where she had yanked, and his eyes were ink black, cloudy with need, his lips shiny and slick.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Dylan asked, wanting her so bad his arms trembled as he hovered over her. He had her on the edge, he was pretty sure, and he knew he had himself on the edge, but he had to hear her say it was okay. There wasn’t a condom in sight, and she couldn’t have any doubts.

  He was sure. Sure that giving Violet a child was the least he could do after she had renewed his passion and excitement for life. His trust in other people. His belief that he was worth something beyond his batting average.

  She wiggled beneath him in a way that tested his resolve. “Dylan, please.”

  Cock resting at her hot entrance, he swore. “I need to hear you say it. We could get you pregnant and you have to be sure.”

  Violet stilled. Stroked her fingers down his arms. “I’m sure. I would be honored to have your child. Truly honored.”

  That did him in.

  Dylan pushed inside her in the raw, and almost came on the spot. Christ almighty, he hadn’t had sex with a woman without a condom since…ever. Everything felt so tight and slick and pulsing, extra aware.

  He had also never had sex with Violet, and that in itself made the experience ten times more arousing.

  Violet wasn’t jaded. Violet wasn’t greedy. Violet had claimed not to like sex, and yet here she was, beneath him, clamping her ankles together right on his butt, urging him forward.

  But he needed a second to just savor, wait. Throb. Try not to come.

  He bent his head over her glorious breasts and ran his lips over her nipple.

  Using a word Dylan wouldn’t have thought Violet would know, she lifted her hips and spread her legs wider, forcing him deep inside her. They both moaned.

  “Want it, do you?” Almost as much as him, he’d bet.

  She moved her hips again, and met his thrust so that they were as connected as it was possible for them to be. “Yes, I want it. I want it, all of it.”

  Dylan leaned down and kissed her, bit her lip, giving up the fight to hold back. He pushed into her, harder and harder, the headboard smacking the wall, the force of his thrusts dragging the sheets off the mattress. His stomach connected with hers each time he sank into her, and he could hear the sound of their bodies joining, the slick suction intermingling with their hot desperate breathing and Violet’s urgent gasp as he drove air out of her lungs over and over.

  Violet strained with him, then suddenly went limp on the bed, her hands falling to his waist. Her eyes locked with his, and she paused before arching up in a silent, graceful orgasm, her body squeezing around his, lips softly parted. Dylan had never seen anything so beautiful in his whole life, the way she took her pleasure and then dropped back down in steps, body relaxing until she was boneless against the mattress.

  A feminine smile crossed her lips as she brushed her hair off her face, and that enigmatic expression, that look of complete and total satisfaction had Dylan gripping the headboard with one hand and driving faster into her, the aftershocks of her climax milking his cock and hurtling him into his own orgasm.

  He gave a shout as he pulsed, the feeling of his hot come catapulting deep inside her shocking and arousing in its intimacy. It was a new sensation, something he had never done before with any other woman, and he felt a burst of male possessiveness. This woman, his seed.

  They were connected forever now.

  Eight

  Violet stuck a pillow under her butt the minute Dylan pulled out of her.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, wiping the sweat off his forehead with his arm.

  “Keeping it in there.” She lifted her hips up and clamped her legs together. She had read this little technique in a book and figured it was worth a shot. It probably looked stupid, but she felt so relaxed, she didn’t care.

  Even if she didn’t get pregnant, Dylan had given her the most incredible sex she had ever had. He had shown her there was nothing wrong with her sexually, that she wasn’t some kind of mutant lacking certain hormones needed to get it on.

  “Keeping what…Oh.” He flopped onto his side next to her and kissed her shoulder. “Keeping the ball in the glove, I get it.”

  She laughed. “Ball in the glove? Could everything in life and sex be described by a baseball metaphor?”

  “Probably
.” His big hand brushed lazily over her stomach as he grinned. “We’re hoping to hit a home run here, right?”

  “Yes.” She licked her dry lips. “And I guess you do have a bat and balls.”

  Dylan laughed. “And I slid into home plate.”

  “Eww! That sounds kind of yucky.”

  “Okay, okay. I scored. Is that better?” He put his hand under her knees and lifted them, further tipping her vagina.

  The gesture was casual, but Violet knew it was intentional. He was trying to help ensure a pregnancy.

  Like they were a couple planning on having a baby together.

  Like they wanted this.

  And while that wasn’t the case, Violet was truly grateful that she’d been given the next best thing. This wasn’t a sterile doctor’s office with injection conception. Nor was it Frank giving her the old wham, bam.

  This was a happy, pleasant moment, with a man she could fall in love with under different circumstances.

  She had to be careful or she just might do that anyway.

  “That’s better. And this may be out of left field…”

  He groaned and she giggled.

  “But you have the sexiest eyes I’ve ever seen, Dylan. I just thought you should know.” It was a sign of her satiation that she could say that without blushing.

  Dylan grinned, his thumb shifting a bit so that he was stroking across her butt, which was pretty much sticking up in the air.

  “Thank you. And you should probably know that you have the best pair of t—”

  He looked right at her breasts and she smacked his shoulder.

  “…toes I’ve ever seen.”

  “Toes don’t come in pairs.”

  “No? Well, I guess you’d know. You’re the teacher.” He set her legs back down and sat up.

  Violet pulled the pillow back out from under her. It was up to fate and his sperm at this point. They’d done all they could.

  Dylan leaned over her, inches from her face. She could feel the heat of his breath, smell his sweat and deodorant. He had her caged in with his arms and she had to admit she liked that feeling of being feminine next to his extreme masculinity. “Seriously, I want you to know that I think you have the best of everything. You’re beautiful both inside and out, Vi.”

  No man had ever said anything quite that sweet to her before.

  It felt natural to reach up and kiss him. Their lips fit together so perfectly, and she felt renewed desire just from that little contact. He felt the same way, if the pressure on her thigh was any indication.

  Violet wanted to show him what he had given to her, show him how much he pleased her. And she was curious, very curious, if other aspects of sex with Dylan would be different as well.

  She dropped down onto her side and took his erection in her hands and gave a soft squeeze. He groaned in approval, and Violet stroked over him, felt him grow harder in her hold. Even without her glasses, she had a good view of him, of his muscular thighs, dark hair, thick erection.

  Giving oral sex to a man had never appealed to her. She had an oversensitive gag reflex and always felt a bit like there was a tree trunk going down her throat. And when you could compare sex acts to forestry it really just wasn’t the least bit sexy.

  But as she stroked and squeezed and watched, as Dylan got louder and louder in his approval, and a tiny bead of clear fluid appeared, she wanted to taste him. She wanted to take him in her mouth, lick her tongue over his hot flesh and feel the power of pleasing him.

  The tip of her tongue reached out and flicked over him. He jerked a little and said, “Yes, do that again.”

  She did. He jerked again, his hand coming down on her head and holding her against him.

  When she took him in her mouth and he swore, Violet gained a whole new appreciation for the experience. This was fun. He tasted delicious, warm and salty, and as he filled her mouth, her inner thighs ached with jealousy.

  Darn, she was starting to squirm against the bed herself. This was arousing.

  He tried to pull back, but she grabbed the bottom of his shaft and sucked in her cheeks.

  Dylan exploded with a primal roar, pulling back so that he came in her hand. “Shit, shit, shit,” he said. “That was incredible. What was that for?”

  That was for him. That was for her.

  A smile on her face, Violet looked up at him. “Happy birthday, Dylan.”

  Nine

  “I’ll let you know what the test results are in a few weeks.”

  Dylan stopped checking out the family pictures on Violet’s wall and turned to stare at her. “Excuse me?”

  He had driven her home after a nice lazy morning at his place, coffee and eggs and lots of groping. If it wasn’t for his game, he wouldn’t have taken her home at all, but he had to be at the airport in a few hours. She was wearing a pair of his sweat shorts, having pulled the drawstring so tight the shorts overlapped at the waist in a pleat. She’d put her bikini top on like a bra, then one of his smaller T-shirts. He liked seeing her standing there in his clothes, but he didn’t like the look on her face.

  She seemed distracted as she glanced over at her answering machine. “Shoot. I was hoping Frank had called. I need to get my purse from him.”

  “I can take you over to his place.” Dylan swung his keys around on his finger. “Now let’s go back to what you said before. Test results?”

  He had a sickening feeling in his gut. One that told him his plans to have Violet on the road with him for the rest of the summer weren’t the same plans she was making.

  “It will be two weeks before I’m supposed to start my period. If I’m late, I’ll take a test and let you know.”

  No, no, no. He was not going to play along with this. “I was planning on seeing you before then.”

  “Why?” She blinked up at him through her glasses, her arms up in her hair, twisting it around and around. She pulled a rubber band out of her kitchen drawer, and wrapped it around the bun she’d made from her thick hair.

  He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Because I want to! Because last night we started something and it’s not finished yet. I want us to be together.”

  She bit her lip, crossed her ankles. “That wasn’t something we even talked about.”

  “So let’s talk about it now. I want to date. I want to see where this can go.” Man, this was ridiculous. He finally found the one woman he thought he could fall in love with and want to spend an entire lifetime with, and she was playing word games with him.

  “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea. It could get complicated if I am pregnant and things don’t work out between us.”

  “Then we’d be like a million other couples who aren’t together but have kids.” He put his hand in his hair in frustration. She was leaping way ahead on this one. He just wanted to take it one day at a time.

  “Exactly.” She nodded. “Which is not what I want. This child is supposed to be mine and mine alone. No money, no interference. That’s what we talked about, that’s what we agreed on. If we date, and it ends in disaster, I don’t want to be dealing with custody issues and conflict when I should be concentrating on raising a child.”

  Dylan felt floored. Slapped. Used. “So I really was just a sperm donor? Even after everything we…”

  Shit. That hurt. That hurt bad.

  Her eyes got moist, damn her. Like she was the one hurting. She put her arms around her middle and hugged herself. “I care about you, Dylan, I really do. In a way I can’t quite believe after just one night. But I don’t fit in your world, and you don’t fit in mine, and if there is a baby, it’s my sole concern right now. So yes, you were a sperm donor. And I should remind you that you offered, by the way.”

  Because he was an idiot, apparently.

  But God, he wanted her so much. He wanted this woman to be his, totally and completely, to want him the way he wanted her, to have a child together with him.

  “Don’t…don’t do this, Vi. Please. We’ll just take things slow. I
’m a reasonable person.”

  Violet hesitated, than shook her head. “I can’t. Please understand.”

  So that was it. Angry, hurt, confused, he scoffed. “I understand this is total bullshit.” He threw his hands up. “Goodbye, Violet. Have a nice life.”

  The slamming of her door should have made him feel better, but it only made him grimace.

  Well, that sucked. He’d just been dumped.

  Ten

  Three weeks later Violet sat on Ashley’s sofa and tapped her thumb on her knee.

  “Who’s keeping time?” Ashley asked, her hands in her blond curly hair.

  “I am. I told you that three freaking times,” Trish said, eyes on her watch.

  Kindra sat down next to Violet and put her hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, sweetie, no matter what the test says, it’s going to be okay. We’re here for you.”

  Violet felt a pit in her stomach that wasn’t a baby. It was guilt. She hadn’t told her friends about Dylan, wanting to wait to see the results of their night together, if there were any. If there was no baby she wasn’t sure she could ever bring herself to talk about him.

  It had just about cracked her heart in half when he had left her apartment that morning, his face hurt and angry.

  She had thought she’d done the right thing at the time. Now, she wasn’t sure about anything.

  It had been a hellish three weeks, her thoughts straying to Dylan over and over again. Wondering if she should call him. Wondering if somehow or other they could work it out.

  Alternating between desperate desire that they had made a baby, to the almost shameful wish that they hadn’t so she could find him and fix things between them.

  “Thanks, Kindra. I’m going to be fine. Either way.” She said it to convince herself. She had a feeling that if she wasn’t pregnant—despite having sex during ovulation and being five days late for her period—she was going to be absolutely devastated.

  After what she had shared with Dylan, she knew she absolutely could not go to the sperm bank and grab any old DNA. She would have to hold out for Mr. Right. Who she suspected she had already sent packing.