Seducing Robin: Things We Do For Lust Bk 3

by Sean Geist

  Robin was screaming for us to stop as we wrestled on the ground. After the surprise wore off, Scott quickly gained the upper hand and landed a few sharp blows to my face before Robin pulled him off me.

  “Peter,” she said, “what the fuck! And Scott, you didn't need to punch him so hard.”

  I had the taste of iron in my mouth. I put my hand to my nose and saw stars. I pulled it away – blood covered my palm. Luckily the pain wasn't too bad and I'm sure Scott did pull his punches. I got up and excused myself to go use the bathroom to clean up.

  I looked in the mirror. My lower face was scarlet. My left eye was a faint purple and starting to swell. This was just wonderful.

  I stuffed some cotton in my nose, to stop the bleeding, and took a wash rag and ran it under some warm water.

  As I was washing the blood off my face, a deep dread passed over me. I was sure I had screwed things up and I was going to lose my wife, forever. I threw up in the sink – mostly a thin pinkish liquid with a few small particles of breakfast. My throat burned from the acid. I cupped my hand and took a few sips from the faucet. The warm water didn't help much, but it was better than the taste of vomit.

  Eventually, I calmed down and a kind of cool peace descended on me. I had accepted that it was out of my hands. It was up to Robin.

  I wiped the blood and bile from my mouth. I then turned on the cold water and ran a clean cloth under it. I pressed the new cloth to my tender eye. I'd have to get ice for it. I figured I'd keep the physical reminders of today's events with me for at least a few days, maybe a week. Scott hadn't broken anything, so I was lucky there. The only scar would be on my pride, and that had been through the wringer so many times since April that one more mark wouldn't be noticeable.

  When I rejoined my wife and Scott they were finishing up a heated, but low volume, argument. He looked over at me when I entered, his lip curled up in a sneer.

  “Looks like I got you good,” he said.

  “Scott!” Robin said with a force even I could feel.

  “Looks can be deceiving,” I said.

  “Serves him right for attacking me,” Scott wouldn't let up.

  “You two are acting like kids. I don't need your immature antics right now. We have an adult situation, that needs adult thinking.”

  “Sorry,” Scott said, as meekly as I've ever heard him say anything.

  I snickered.

  “Peter - you should have known better.”

  I shut up.

  “Yeah, Peter. Listen to your wife. Though she may not be for long.” I guess she finally told him.

  “I want both of you out! Now.” There was no hesitation in her voice. “I don't want to be around either of you right now.”

  I wish I could take back what I had done. Robin needed me right now. She need someone to lean on and I had acted like a fool and now she didn't want to have anything to do with me. I felt bad for myself, and bad for her. Now she'd have to deal with her decision on her own.

  Scott was still trying to get Robin to forgive his inexcusable actions. I was resigned to my fate. I knew my wife and she wasn't going to have her mind changed by us. She would have to come to it herself, in her own time.

  There was really only one question I needed an answer to – well two, if you counted her pregnancy. “Do you still want to be married?”

  Sorrow, anger, guilt and fear played across her hazel eyes. “I don't know. There's too much going on in my head and you can't expect me to decide. If you do, you probably won't like the answer.”

  Scott didn't say anything but I saw his mouth tremble into a small smile. He counted that as a win for him. I didn't. Even though I had planned to have an answer from Robin this weekend, once again, forces beyond my control had denied me. I wasn't going to push my wife at the moment. She needed to deal with other issues and I was going to let her. My own needs could wait. The fact I could find comfort in other arms didn't hurt, and I felt a little guilty thinking about it.

  Robin herded both of us to the door and for his part Scott behaved. She gave him a hug and a peck on the cheek. There was no passion in the kiss, only a kindness and genuine warmth. I felt a little sorry for him, just a little though.

  “What about the...” He didn't finish his thought. He reached out and touched Robin's belly.

  “It's my decision. I'll take care of it.”

  “Nothing I can say?” he asked.

  “No,” was Robin's firm reply.

  He kissed her again, this time on the lips and she kissed him back and I wanted to cry. I saw a tenderness that I hadn't seen before. I saw the love Robin felt for Scott and I cringed. A sour taste filled my mouth. I went to the kitchen to get a drink of water; Robin didn't stop me.

  When I got back, Scott was gone.

  Now it was my turn for a hug and a kiss.

  “Take all the time you need,” I said as she laid her head lightly on my shoulder. It was really the least I could offer after the scene I had caused.

  “Thanks.”

  I turned to go, but she pulled me back and kissed me on the mouth. I know she could taste the bile on my breath but she kissed me anyway. I hugged her back and vowed to myself I would never let her go.

  I broke that vow about thirty seconds later.

  “You should see a doctor about that eye when you get back to Phoenix.”

  “I'm a doctor.” I was joking, but Robin didn't laugh.

  “I mean a real one.” I grimaced when she lightly touched my nose.

  “I will,” I said. Her implying I wasn't a real doctor kinda sucked.

  “And I'll be coming down to the city next weekend.”

  I knew why. “Do you want me to go with you?” I asked hoping the answer would be yes.

  It was.

  Chapter 3

  Peter

  Robin picked me up at my office the following Friday at one o'clock. I had cleared my appointment calendar and told our receptionist I was starting my weekend early.

  “You look much better,” she said to me as I climbed into the passenger seat of her SUV.

  “Thanks,” I said. Luckily, Scott hadn't broken my nose. The only sign of our fight was a light blue tinge around my eye. I buckled up and Robin headed out to the woman's health clinic where she would be getting her abortion.

  “What did your co-workers say when you showed up with that shiner?”

  “Not much. Told them I hit my head on a cupboard door.”

  “They believe you?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Hope they don't think you're a battered husband. What'd your doctor say?”

  I didn't answer right away. I hadn't gone to the doctor. Instead, I took a couple leftover prescription pain killers.”

  “Peter?”

  “I didn't go. I don't like doctor's offices.” It was true. Nothing good happened in a doctor's office. At least not for me. “My nose wasn't broken so I figured there wasn't much call for a trip to the doctor. Saved the insurance company a few bucks.”

  “Sure they're grateful for that. They gonna split the savings with you?”

  I knew I should have gone to see someone. I might have had a concussion or internal bleeding.

  “You can be so silly sometimes, Peter.”

  “You have lunch yet?” I asked.

  “My appointment's in half an hour, we don't have time.

  I found it uncomfortable talking about where we were going. I was accompanying my wife to her abortion appointment and her demeanor was more like she was getting a cavity filled.

  My opinion has always been, the fewer abortions the better, but it was always a woman's choice. Having your body used as an incubator for nine months without consent was slavery, no matter what the ultra-religious thought. The bottom line for me was, a woman's body is her own, not her husband's, not her pastor's and not the state's.

  “I'm glad you're with me Peter. You didn't have to come.” I appreciated that she didn't add how it wasn't my fault she was knocked up.

  “Yo
u know there's nothing I wouldn't do for you.”

  “Do I have to tell you that's a lie?”

  “No.” It was a lie. I wouldn't let her live with Scott and stay married to me. “But anything else.”

  “I know.” She put her right hand on my knee. “Thanks.”

  “How'd your consultation go?” I was talking about the mandatory visit every woman seeking an abortion in Arizona had to go through.

  “Pretty routine. I went to the Planned Parenthood clinic in Flagstaff on Monday. Confirmed I actually was pregnant. I had to have an ultrasound. That was a waste of time. And they set up my appointment here in Tempe since they don't do the surgical procedures there.”

  “I wish you didn't have to go through all this.”

  “My fault. I let my pussy do my thinking for me.”

  I laughed. “You have no excuse. At least us guys can say our erections take blood from our brain.”

  Robin punched my leg. “Do NOT mock the power of the pussy. She's impossible to ignore when she wants to be filled.”

  Looking over at Robin and seeing her laugh in the face of such a tough decision reminded me why I loved her so much.

  Nothing ever seemed to keep her down. I remembered when I first saw her, sitting in the exam room at my clinic with a dying Bassett hound in her lap. Her hands and clothes were covered in blood, but still, a strong confident attitude that her pet would survive shone through. I think her confidence was infectious, because when I first looked at the dog I thought for sure we'd have to put him down. But the more I talked to this vibrant young woman, the more sure I became that I could save it. And I did.

  Six Years Prior

  Peter had just finished Beasley's checkup. Physically, the dog was fine. The stitches had been removed weeks ago and there was no scarring. He had no infections and no permanent affects to his motor skills.

  Robin, the dog's owner, reported Beasley had returned to his friendly, affectionate self and had even enjoyed a frolic in the park, near where the pick-up had hit him. It was a near perfect recovery after a rainy night hit-and-run, thanks mainly to Peter's deft hands and some excellent medication.

  The down side to this swift healing – no more excuses to see the lovely Robin.

  For the past three months, Peter had looked forward to every visit from Beasley and his brown-haired owner. He loved looking into her deep hazel eyes when explaining how well her dog's health was improving. And no matter how hard he tried to remain professional, he couldn't help but be distracted when she wore a scoop-neck or V-cut top, something she was prone to do as her dog got better and the need for the vet visits diminished.

  “Miss Weston,” Peter said to Robin, “there's nothing else for me to do. Little Beasley's in perfect health.”

  Robin extended her hand and said, “thanks.” Peter took her hand and shook it.

  “You're welcome,” he said and continued to move his arm up and down until that became too tiring and he just held it. Robin's hand felt warm and soft and he could sense a whiff of the lavender hand lotion she used.

  Is this really it? he asked himself. Is this the last time I'd get to see her? Peter became lost, swirling in all the possible futures of life with and without this beautiful, intelligent woman in them.

  “Doctor Wilkenson?” Robin said.

  “Call me Peter.” That was a stupid thing to say.

  “Peter, can I have my hand back?” But not a stupid as holding on so long after they'd stopped shaking hands.

  “Sorry. I just,” Peter was stammering. “I just. Got distracted.”

  “No problem at all,” Robin said. She paused for a second before adding, “can I have my hand back now?”

  “Yeah. Yeah,” he said and released her grip. “Sorry, I'm usually not like this. I'd say it's because I'm new here, but that's not entirely true.”

  Robin blushed a bit, but didn't ask him to explain why. For that, he was disappointed. Peter would have loved to tell her how much he looked forward to her visits and maybe ask her out for a cup of coffee. Or dinner. Or anything, really. He just wanted the opportunity to get to know her better.

  Peter didn't lack for things to say. He just didn't have the courage to say them. He needed coaxing. He needed Robin to make the first move – to let him know she was interested, but she didn't seem to be doing that.

  So instead, he apologized and completed entering Beasley's vitals into his computer terminal. While he was doing that he advised Robin to schedule a regular six-month checkup. He told this to all his patient's owners but only about ten percent ever did. He mostly only got to see animals that were sick or needed fixing.

  When he was done, Peter scratched playfully behind Beasley's floppy brown ears for a bit before shaking Robin's hand again.

  “Guess this is goodbye, then,” he said. This time he was quick to release her hand.

  “I really want to thank you again, Doctor Hender – Peter – for saving Beasley's life. I don't know what I'd do without him.

  “It's nothing anyone else here wouldn't have done.” That was true, but it was always nice to hear he was appreciated.

  “I'm glad it was you,” Robin said.

  Peter didn't know what to say to that. If he had a smidgen more confidence he might have said something like, “I'm glad it was me as well.” And then ask her out on a date. But he didn't do that.

  “Call us, if anything else comes up,” is what he said instead, and escorted Robin and Beasley to the reception area where they paid for the little dog's last visit. Peter waved as they walked out the door, and a little void opened up in his heart, one he thought he'd never fill.

  Peter was mentally kicking himself in the ass for being such a wimp. He figured he didn't deserve a woman like Robin if he couldn't even get up the nerve to talk to her.

  He was in the exam room, shutting down the terminal and sterilizing the exam table when he spotted a little yellow umbrella folded up and leaning against the wall in the corner.

  It had been drizzling earlier in the day as it often did in the spring, but the rain quickly stopped and dried up and was soon forgotten, just like the umbrella. Peter didn't have to think too hard about whose it was. He knew it belonged to Robin.

  His heart started pounding. He now had an excuse to call her. He'd get her number from her file and ring her up. He'd tell her she left her umbrella at the clinic and that he'd hold it for her to pick up. He thrilled at the chance to see her again, even if only for a quick exchange.

  His heart sank a bit when he saw it was a cheap little thing – five dollars at Target; she might tell him to keep it. A cloud of pessimism drifted over the tiny patch of sunlight that umbrella represented. Peter could feel her drifting further away. It was going to be Jaime all over again.

  Jamie was his lab partner for a year in Veterinary school. She dropped lots of hints he never picked up. The last week of class she told him she had started dating a guy who played basketball at the gym she frequented.

  As the last mote of light threatened to go out, Peter made a bold decision; it was bold for him. He would call Miss Weston and tell her he had her umbrella. If she told him to keep it that meant she really wasn't interested in him. But if she said she'd come and get it, that would mean she left it on purpose hoping he'd call her.

  It was a stupid proposition, but that was the kickstart Peter needed. He called her that evening as he was getting ready to leave. He was overjoyed when she said she'd love to get her umbrella back. His heart skipped a beat and he almost hung up the phone.

  After he calmed down, Peter asked if she'd like to meet him at a nearby coffee shop. She said yes without hesitating.

  It wasn't really a date, but it was better than her meeting him at his office. So much better.

  They sat in a Starbucks and chatted. They drank coffee and shared a danish and chatted some more. They talked into the evening until the staff kicked them out at closing time.

  Robin and Peter moved their conversation to a nearby bar where they had a
drink – two gin and sodas – and talked some more. They could have gone until last-call, but Peter did have to go to work in the morning. So he settled the bill; they split the tab since it wasn't a real date.

  Peter walked Robin to her car and wondered if he should kiss her. If he had, they might have ended up going back to her place – or his – and making love. He didn't.

  “I had a wonderful time tonight,” he said as they reached her Dodge Neon.

  “You're a very interesting man, Peter Wilkenson. When you actually open up.”

  Peter stared at her silently. No one had ever called him that before. While he didn't have the nerve to lean in for a kiss, he was able to say, “will I be able to see you again?” It was a weak invite, but it did put a smile on Robin's face.

  “Maybe,” she said.

  It was good enough of Peter. “Good night, Robin.”

  Robin didn't say anything. She didn't start the car and she didn't drive away. Did she expect him to say something else? Peter wasn't sure. Should he try to kiss her? That might ruin everything.

  She looked up at him through the open window of her car. Peter didn't know what to say, dealing with women had always been a weak area for him. He was much better with animals. So he watched her smile turn into a silly grin until she eventually started laughing.

  “You really don't know what I'm waiting for do you?”

  Peter thought for a moment then said, “a kiss?”

  Robin kept laughing, not in a mocking way, but kindly. “Peter, you're a great guy, but I think it's too early for a kiss.”

  “Of course it is,” Peter said not believing that at all.

  Robin shock her head and started the car. “But I'll tell you what. Maybe I'll kiss you on our first date.”

  “You want to see me again?”

  Robin rolled her eyes. “Yeah, silly. I want to see you again. You still haven't given me back my umbrella.”