He Loves Lucy (17 page)

“Sorry.”

She didn’t look sorry. Lucy smoothed her hair back and smiled at him, then giggled. She was a wet minx. A slippery vixen. Theo had to touch her or he’d splinter into a thousand pieces of frustration, but was there any way to make that touch appear accidental? The only thing he could think of would be to dunk her and chase her around in the pool like they were kids, but who was he fooling? That would be so transparent.

Then suddenly he was underwater, Lucy’s hands forcing his head deeper below the surface. He laughed in surprise, feeling the bubbles shoot out of his nose up through the water. In a burst of playful revenge, he grabbed her around the knees and flipped her over his shoulder, hearing her scream just before she splashed down behind him.

Lucy swam hard to get away, but he was quick. Theo pulled her by the ankles and yanked her back to him, and as she flailed in a vain attempt to escape, he realized this was fun. He hadn’t had this much fun with a woman in a long time. And it was anything but innocent.

She twisted in his grasp and came up for air, her ankles still in his hands. He opened his arms wide, spreading her legs, then pulled. She smacked right up against him and she squeezed her legs around his waist before he could even suggest it.

Then Lucy’s arms were around his neck and she brought that beautiful mouth of hers close and pushed open her lips with the pink tip of her tongue. Theo blinked the water from his lashes, knowing this was going to be the kind of kiss neither could pretend was accidental.

He knew this kiss was going to be anything
but
a mistake or the biggest freakin‘ mistake he’d ever make in his life.

Theo moved his hands through the water until they cupped Lucy’s butt. She gasped. He squeezed, feeling muscle and flesh and woman, and Lucy let out the most appealing little whimper he’d ever heard. Right then, Theo’s nose caught a hint of Paradise Awaits mixed with chlorine and that was all she wrote. He didn’t care about what happened after that kiss-he only cared about the kiss itself, that kiss and those legs around him and that luscious, full ass cupped in his hands.

Theo slammed his mouth on hers just as Lucy desperately sought him out, and they hit so hard it hurt. But they didn’t stop. They soothed the momentary pain with each other’s lips and tongues and Theo realized he was starving for this. He was starving for a woman-a woman he could connect with, a woman he could play with.

He was starving for a woman like Lucy.

Her hands were in his hair and she was grabbing him, pulling him even closer, squeezing him so tight between her thighs he feared for his ribs.

The sound of a slamming patio door was followed by the sudden glare of an overhead bank of lights. The two thrashed around in the water to separate, gasping for breath.

“What the hell…?” Uncle Martin stood on the lanai in a pair of white boxer shorts so loose they made his legs look like toothpicks stuck in marshmallows.

He shook his head. “Sorry, kids. I told Viv it was a ‘making whoopee’ scream, not a ‘help-I’ve-fallen-and-I-can’t-get-up’ scream, but would she listen?”

Martin sighed, flipped off the light, and went back inside without further comment.

Theo got thoroughly splashed as Lucy swam toward the pool steps, kicking furiously. He admired her freestyle stroke and her speed, and then he just plain admired her when she climbed out and ran like a gazelle toward the guest wing. The girl could certainly make time on land or water when she was running away from him.

“Lucy, stop.”

She turned, clutching her arms over her chest, the water streaming off her body as she panted for breath.

“I want you bad, Luce.”

“No.” She shook her head.

“This is nuts. I’m not going to fight it anymore.”

Theo began to exit the pool, knowing that just how much he wanted her would be evident when his hips cleared the waterline.

Lucy’s eyes locked onto the front of his swim trunks. “Oh, jeez,” she breathed. “This is
so
not going to work.”

Theo looked down at himself. “I have to disagree.”

“If we do this, it’ll change everything, Theo! You still want to be just friends?”

“Hell, no.”

“Because I sure don’t want to wake up with you in the morning and be told that we all make mista-”

Theo grabbed her, kissed her, and began to back her up toward the house. When they arrived at the sliding door to the guest suite, he deftly reached around, unlatched the handle, and shoved the door wide, all while managing to push down a swimsuit strap and nudge her inside.

“You’re really good at this,” she said against his mouth.

“I’m severely out of practice.”

“You? I don’t even remember what happens next.”

They both laughed while they kissed, Theo slamming the door shut behind him with a blind kick of his leg. “You’re in good hands, Lucy Cunningham.”

Lucy spent five minutes wandering around the room adjusting the lighting. She was still in her swimsuit. The idea of being naked in a man’s presence after all this time had launched her into a panic.

“You’re running away again.”

“No, really, I’m not.” She opted for one 60-watt bulb in the reading lamp in the corner of the huge bedroom, her orange sundress draped across to temper the glare. She stood back to admire the effect.

“I’m dying over here, Luce.”

Lucy turned to see Theo lounging naked on the king-size platform bed, and it was obvious nothing on the man was dying or even wilting. He was breathtaking- long, lean, muscular physical perfection-with a soft fuzz of light brown hair all over his big chest. The trail of hair grew narrow as it grew darker, pointing like an arrow directly at…

Lucy bit her bottom lip to stop from moaning. She raised her eyes to his handsome face, not knowing if fear prevented her from closely scrutinizing what jutted from between his legs or if she was simply saving the best for last, like when she used to eat all the cup cake before any of the icing.

“Lucy, come over here.”

She sat on the edge of the bed.

Theo took both her hands in his. “You’re shaking. Why?”

“It’s the icing on the cup cake.”

One of his eyebrows arched high. “Yes, it certainly is. But your suit is wet. Take it off.”

So easy for him to say. There he was, sprawled out confidently on top of the comforter, every inch of him on display. She supposed hanging around in locker rooms made men blase about nudity. Having no discernible body flaws probably helped, too.

“This is hard for me, Theo.”

“It’s been hard for you nearly all night, in case you haven’t noticed.” Theo’s smile was kind, but his eyes were hot. He brushed the side of her face with his fingertips, cupped her chin softly. “Go on. Look at me. See how much I want you.”

She hesitated.

“Fine. Then
feel
how much I want you.”

Lucy closed her eyes tight and let him take her left hand and bring it toward his body. Her fingertips encountered something velvety smooth and warm. He then guided her hand around his girth, and he was big and rigid and behind her dark eyelids she was being treated to a Fourth of July fireworks show.

“Oh God. Theo.”

“This is how much I want you.”

Lucy moaned.

Theo left her hands where they were and reached out to slide down both straps of the tankini. Lucy kept her eyes shut when she felt her breasts being exposed to the air, ecstasy and anxiety fighting it out for top billing. Then he stroked her bare flesh and said, “You are so beautiful, Lucy,” and ecstasy won.

Her eyes remained closed and her hands began to move along the length of him as his palms soothed, his fingers pinched. Then she felt his mouth, wet and warm lips that landed on her left nipple, where she was laved, nibbled, licked, and sucked until she was squirming and moaning and felt overwhelmed with the shocking amount of pleasure she felt.

“Oh, Theo-”

He removed his lips from her breast and kissed her, pulling her down on top of him.

Lucy’s eyes flew open.

“This is all that matters, Lucy-you and me. And the only thing that’s going to keep this from happening is if you don’t want it.”

She let out an abrupt laugh and pushed away from his embrace. “All right. OK. I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?” Theo looked worried.

She jumped from the big bed and ran over to the dresser, rooting through her bag for the little cotton nightie she knew she’d packed. She found it, raised it in her fist in triumph, and said, “Who loves me now?”

Theo collapsed back onto the pillows and laughed. When she returned a moment later, he was still there, an arm flopped over his eyes, his body still beautiful and his cock still erect.

“I’m ready, Theo.”

He opened his eyes and smiled at the vision before him. Lucy had towel-fluffed her hair and put on the little nightgown, something low cut and short and as thin as gauze. He could see everything through it-the round female form punctuated by the dark triangle of her sex and the dark, hard peaks of her nipples. Lucy’s eyes were wide. Her smile was shy. Her hair was thick and tossled, and the combination of vulnerability and va-va-voom sexuality had Theo wondering how he would ever find a way to protect her and debauch her at the same time.

When she got on the bed and began to crawl toward him on all fours, Theo forgot all about the protecting and went right for the debauching. He rose to his knees. When she reached him, he pulled her up and kissed her, his hands clutching her upper arms, his mouth desperate with months of pent-up hunger.

Theo put his arms around her and clutched her close.

He could feel every bit of Lucy, from her knees to her lips, every curve, every swell and dip and soft place. He felt her breasts crushed against his chest, nipples like little rocks, and he felt the heat radiating from between her legs.

His lips and tongue caressed her mouth, opened her, dived into her, and though he loved the feel of her pressed tight up against him, he couldn’t stay like this long. He needed to move. Theo reached up under the back of the nightgown and pushed it up and over the round globes of her ass. He caressed her back, slid his hands around her waist, rubbed her tummy and hips and breasts all with the hem of the flimsy nightie resting on his forearms. He’d much rather have her buck naked, but if this little piece of cloth made Lucy feel comfortable enough to be here with him, like this, then he’d live with it.

“Touch me, Theo,” she whispered. “Oh God, please touch me.”

He put her fingers between her full, silky thighs and stroked her, coaxing her to spread her legs. She shifted, opening for him, and his fingers were instantly covered in slick heat.

“God, Lucy. You’re so wet. Are you always this wet?”

She laughed. “I don’t remember.”

He laughed with her, pulled her until they fell to the comforter, where they rolled and laughed more, and Theo knew he’d never felt this much joy in a woman’s presence, this much connection and happiness. It hadn’t felt this way with Jenna, or with anyone.

They fit. He and Lucy fit like they were made for each other. That’s all there was to it.

As if she’d heard his silent verdict, Lucy wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck in clear invitation. Theo gazed down into her face and saw his own certainty-and his own lust-reflected back to him in her shining eyes.

“I’m not running away anymore,” she whispered.

Theo pushed inside her, slowly, inch by inch, and the joy spread and grew and rushed at him with a force he’d never known was possible. Theo had found joy and pleasure and certainty in the paradise of Lucy.

Stephan stared at the television, watching Theo Redmond’s right hand flick against the metal, making a
tap, tap
sound. His heart flopped in his chest like a dying fish. “Dammit,” he hissed.

Chin in hands, Stephan watched the trainer flick his fingers again,
tap-tap-tap
. The camera zoomed in close to Lucy Cunningham’s fat face. Stephan hated that face. That fuckin‘ goody-two-shoes triumph-of-the-human-spirit chubber-nugget was really starting to fuckin’ annoy him.

Redmond kept going. The suspense was killing Stephan.
Tap, tap… slide… tap, tap, tap
.

“Oh for God’s sake, stop with the drama already!” He slammed back more coffee and rooted around in his desk drawer for his ibuprofen and a Snickers bar.

Finally, thank God, the scale’s balance found its equilibrium at 170 pounds and Lucy’s face lit up like a harvest moon.

Stephan was fucked.

“This month’s loss was a whopping seventeen pounds!” Redmond announced, smiling into the camera like a he was a spokesmodel for a laxative. “That’s phenomenal!”

Then Stephan had to endure the sight of the trainer lifting Lucy into the air like he’d just come home from the war, twirling her around on the set, her hair flying out around them. The nitwits in the audience were eating this shit up. The camera panned the rows of jumping and clapping housewives and that’s when Stephan froze.

A whole goddamn section of the studio audience was wearing matching T-shirts that read: WE LOVE LUCY!

Stephan let out a howl of agony. This was just too much!

All Lucy Cunningham had to do was
not
lose weight! How hard could that be? The woman had been as big as a house the whole time she’d worked here! For over a year he’d watched her pop Milk Duds from morning to night.

Wasn’t it true that every damn diet and exercise ad on the planet had to include the caveat
results not typical
! All he wanted was fuckin‘ typical! But Lucy Cunningham was actually doing it! She was doing the impossible, and causing a public relations sensation in the process!

His phone rang.

“The girl. She’s skinny.”