COUNTERPOINT
An original romantic serialFrom Alina Adams the author of "When a Man Loves a Woman" (DELL 4/00), "Annie's Wild Ride" (AVON 8/98), "Inside Figure Skating" (METROBOOKS 11/00 & 9/99), "Thieves at Heart" (AVON 12/95) and "The Fictitious Marquis" (AVON 6/95)
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CHAPTER 18
Robin announced, "Your brother called."
He sat on the couch in Victoria's apartment, leafing through, of all things, a cookbook, feigning marvel at the realization that food involved raw material, rather than arriving already garnished with a price-tag attached. Victoria stepped out of the bathroom, barefoot, dressed in a white, terry-cloth robe and rubbing her damp hair with a matching towel.
Robin smiled. "I told him you were in the shower."
She dropped the towel, looking at him censoriously. "Did you mention that I was in there because you kidnapped me to build sand castles on the beach, and I was washing the salt out of my hair?"
"Nope." He propped both legs on her coffee table. "I didn't think it was relevant."
"Great," Victoria said. "Now, he probably thinks we're -- "
"Well, we're not." Robin's eyes danced. "I assume I'd be the first to know if we were."
He grinned at her, shifting slightly along the couch, and patting the now empty spot beside him, inviting her to join him. She did so absently, her mind obviously on something else. When Robin slid his arm around her shoulder, Victoria appeared not to notice. She ran her fingers through her drying hair, dreamily loosening the tangles missed by her conditioner, and confessed, "It does make me wonder, though..."
"What?"
She hesitated, unsure of the foremost way to phrase her qualm without insulting Robin or making herself sound even more insecure that she actually was about the issue. Victoria linked her palms, kneading the thumb of her left one against her right one with such force, she might have been trying to erase its lifeline. "Robin?"
"I'm listening, love."
She took a deep breath, gathering her courage. He looked at her expectantly. She had no choice, it was now or never. Victoria said, "Sometimes I wonder if the only reason you're still coming to see me, and making such an effort, and buying me horses and taking me to the beach and flying me to British Columbia, is because well, I'm the first woman who's ever said no to you so many times. And I've become, like, a challenge. You know the impregnable fortress every soldier has to try and seize. I'm scared that, when we do finally make love, and you'll have what you wanted all along, I'll never see you, again." She turned her head to meet his eyes. "And the biggest joke of that is, in the last few weeks, I feel like we really have become friends. And, if you go, I'll miss you."
Victoria ducked her glance, afraid to see Robin's reaction to her confession. For a moment he didn't say a word. All she heard was the uniform, even in/out of his breathing. The arm around her shoulder didn't budge. Robin only shifted his weight, crossing his legs, and clearing his throat.
At long last, he said, "Victoria, look at me."
She did as he requested, raising her head, afraid of what she might discover in his eyes.
"Victoria, I'm not going to lie to you. I like women. I've always liked women, especially beautiful ones. And you -- whether you believe it or not -- are a beautiful woman. I would like very much to make love to you. In fact, I have no qualms admitting, I have fantasized about it on numerous occasions. And you're right; not that many women say no to me. I'd like to chalk that up to my charm, wit, and God-given good looks, but the cynic in me tends to believe my irresistibility has more to do with the size of my trust fund. To continue with this honesty trend you started -- and, take my word for it, this is not a venture I engage in daily -- yes, at the start, my extravagance did stem from a desire to charm you into bed as soon as possible, and your unprecedented resistance did toss down, in a matter of speaking, the gauntlet for me."
"Oh," Victoria swallowed hard. "I see."
"No, you don't. I said -- in the beginning. We're way past the beginning now, and yet, I still seem to be coming around here. Now, why do you think that's so, love?"
"I don't know." She shrugged. "Inertia?"
The right side of his mouth twitched upwards. "It's because, Victoria, you make me happy. When I think of you, I smile. And I never smile. Well, not and mean it, anyway."
She supposed he was paying her a compliment. But, she still needed to clarify, "What are you saying, Robin?'
"I'm saying," he stroked her cheek gently with the back of his hand. "That, while over the years I may have told many women, many times that I loved them; you, Victoria Morgan, are the first woman I've ever actually ... liked."
Victoria knew she should be feeling reassured by his tribute, even flattered. But, there was nevertheless another issue plaguing her. She hadn't intended to tell him, it was too intimate, and too potentially humiliating. But, Robin had been so truthful with her, she felt she owed him the same truthfulness in return.
Victoria said, "Robin, I'm scared."
"Scared?" His eyes widened in genuine confusion. "Not of me, I hope."
He looked so devastated at the prospect, it was all Victoria could do not to reach out and hug him, the way she would comfort a child. But, Robin Cooper was no child. He was a man, a man of the world, as a matter of fact. And therein lay the problem.
Victoria told Robin, "The last thing I want to be is a tease. Especially when I'm not sure I'll be able to deliver."
He cocked his head to one side. "I beg your pardon?"
She struggled to explain, "You know how, when something gets a really huge buildup and you've been looking forward to it for so long that it's all you can think about?"
"Anticipation," he said. "It makes the final event sweeter."
"Or sets you up for massive disappointment." Victoria sighed. "Robin, I -- I'm not very sure of myself. When the lights go out."
"No problem. We can leave them on."
"God, no."
He smiled, reassuring, "We'll do anything you like, Victoria."
"That's just the thing, though. I don't... I'm not... I'm not very responsive. Men have told me this, and I don't know why it is -- maybe they're right, maybe I'm too uptight. But, after the fuss I made about our waiting until after your divorce, I'm afraid I'm building too-high expectations. You're so ... experienced. I don't want to disappoint you."
He considered her words. Then, slowly, Robin asked, "Who told you you were unresponsive, Victoria?"
"I -- the last man I went out with, back in Texas."
"He," Robin pronounced, "Was an imbecile. Or, more likely, an incompetent. Here. I'll prove it to you."
Robin raised his left hand and, eyes locked with Victoria's so she could tell him to stop at any moment, slipped it past the open- V of her robe, gently cupping her breast in his palm.
"May I?" he asked.
She inhaled sharply, knowing she should pull away. Yet, his hand felt so cool against her suddenly flushed skin. It felt so good, so... right. She caught herself nodding.
Robin smiled.
The smoothness of his thumbnail skimmed her nipple, sketching its contour in gradually tightening circles, until she stiffened to a rigid peak just perfect for Robin to wrap his tongue around.
"May I?" he repeated.
Another gasp. Another nod.
She expected him to take her fully in his mouth, in fact, she ached for him to do just that. But, Robin had apparently decided to bide his time with her.
He lowered his head and, instead of enveloping her, dabbed the softest of kisses against the very tip of her swollen nipple. Her body scorched at his touch. Without being fully alert to what she was doing, she rested her palm on the back of Robin's head, urging him to go further, to take more, to please, please, go on.
He obeyed her summons, his tongue caressing her as it flicked in and out of his mouth and back and forth on her breast in a beat so primal it ignited every impulse in Victoria's body. He dampened her nipple, then blew on it softly, creating a wintergreen draft to simultaneously chill and inflame her. Victoria arched her back to greet him, and, when his hand dipped lower, she parted her thighs for him, no longer thinking, only feeling.
His lips finally captured her swollen nipple, sucking hungrily at the same time as his fingers tangled in the fragile curls at the crest of her legs. He stroked her with tantalizing care, coming so close, then pulling away.
"Robin... please..." Victoria rose up to press herself against him, offering access to the very essence of her. She was trembling now, trembling with a desire never previously felt. She squeezed her thighs, she ground against his palm, begging Robin to -- yes, there, touch her there.
He parted her, and, in rhythm with the feverish nuzzle of his mouth on her breast, began to caress her from the inside out, his fingers skillfully locating every concealed, sensitive spot, until Victoria heard herself sobbing with pleasure.
He raised his head from her breast, burrowing his face in her neck, kissing Victoria's shoulder, her throat, her jaw, suckling on her earlobe as he whispered, "Still think that dimwit in Texas was right about your being unresponsive, love?"
She knew he was trying to be kind, and, in fact, Robin's words did flush her with a happiness almost as great as the one triggered by his touch. But, they also reminded her of who she was and where she was and why, no matter how exquisite it felt, she had no right to be doing what she was doing.
"Robin." Victoria's voice sounded husky and unfamiliar to her ears. "Please. Stop. I can't -- we can't go through with this."
She wouldn't have blamed him if, right then and there, he had decided she was totally insane; what with Victoria entreating him to go on, then, in the same breath, commanding him to stop. She wouldn't have blamed him if he decided that no woman was worth this kind of aggravation, and dropped Victoria on the spot.
Yet, Robin did none of those things. Instead, he pulled back just a fraction, studying Victoria with a practiced eye, noting the way she struggled to catch her breath, the way minor shudders still assaulted her body, and the way she continued to press against him. He realized that, despite Victoria's pleas, she wasn't quite done.
He whispered, "I can't leave you like this, love."
She shook her head. "Robin -- "
"No, it's all right. I promise, we won't go any further. But," he stroked her hair. "I like to finish what I start."
He pulled Victoria closer, and with his fingers, continued to caress her as he had been doing, only faster, harder, until, unable to prevent herself, Victoria let him propel her into the abyss.