Lady of the Lake

Five

Dylan hustled Violet down the dock and up the wooden stairs to the elevator. He said a prayer for it to hurry as he pressed the button, then wondered if it was morally wrong to pray for speed in getting a woman naked.

Probably.

But he did it anyway.

“This is a nice building,” Violet said, standing very close to him, arms crossed over her chest.

“It’s not bad. It’s got a good view and it’s quiet. It’s kind of sterile, though. No personal touches.” He took her hand and pulled her into the elevator.

Violet dragged her bare feet a little. “Are you sure you want to do this? Maybe you should just take me home.”

Willingly take a strike-out? No way. “Do you have a key to get into your apartment?”

“No. It’s in my purse. My friend Trish has the spare.”

“And Trish didn’t answer her phone?”

Violet shook her head, her lips pursing. “No.”

“Then have dinner with me. Relax. Enjoy the night.”

The front of his T-shirt had dried on her, but her hair was still damp, curling at the tips and fuzzing on top. She ran her fingers over the back of it, and looked over his shoulder, her cheeks pink. “Just so you understand, I’m not having sex with you.”

Way to burst his birthday bubble. He had a tree trunk size boner, she was half naked and wet already, and she was shooting him down?

But he wasn’t going to rush her. She had just dumped her boyfriend, after all.

“Okay, then. We can just have dinner and fool around. We’ll have sex on our second date. Wednesday, when I get back from New York.” With a grin, he rubbed the small of her back with his thumb and tried to think pure thoughts.

“This wasn’t a date. This was an accident, where I was dumb enough to fall in the water and you were nice enough to pull me out.”

“So why did you kiss me, then?”

“Because you wanted me to.” She cleared her throat and pushed her glasses up with a frown.

“Then you can have sex with me, because I want that, too.” He grinned down at her, knowing she was embarrassed, wanting to put her at ease.

Wanting her, plain and simple. But he would wait. As long as it took.

“Uh…”

He had her trapped by her words, and she knew it. She’d wanted those kisses just as much as he had.

“But I don’t like sex.”

The elevator door opened right as she spoke, and they turned to find his neighbor, Mrs. Martin, standing there with her terrier. “You’re not the only one, sweetie. Most women don’t like sex. They just fake it for the man’s benefit.”

Violet sighed.

Dylan knew he should just walk on by. But he couldn’t stop himself. He was trying to get laid here and Mrs. Martin wasn’t helping. So he said, “No woman has ever faked it with me.”

It was supposed to shut her up, but Mrs. Martin stopped and stared at him in amazement as they exited the elevator, and she got on. “Oh, Dylan, honey, baby. I would guess every woman has faked it with you at one point or another. Along with a lot of other things. They don’t date a baseball player for his sexual skill or his conversation.”

The door rolled shut and Dylan just stood there. The old broad had kneed him in the nuts with that one.

Violet touched his arm. “That was cruel.”

“But probably true.”

“Of course it’s not true. There’s a lot to like about you. Much more than money or a baseball uniform. You’re funny, you’re considerate, you care about your family.” She smiled, while her hand patted his forearm in a gesture that was strangely comforting. “And lots of women like sex, so I’m sure they weren’t faking with you. My friends all seem to really like it. I’m the weird one who can just take it or leave it, and I didn’t want you to be disappointed. And I couldn’t fake it if my life depended on it. I can’t…make noises.”

She finished that startling pronouncement with a blush.

He knew then what he wanted to do. How he wanted to be unselfish, completely generous in the way she seemed to think him capable of. How for once in his life he wanted to do something that really mattered, to give back a little something for all the many blessings he had in his life.

He opened his apartment door, stepped in with her, closed it. And touched her cheek. “There’s a lot to like about you, too. Let me give you what you want, Vi. Let me give you a baby.”

“What?” All the pink flush leeched from her cheeks.

Dylan rushed on, making his case. “My family is very fertile. No history of heart disease, diabetes, or cancer, and while we don’t fall in the genius range, we’re all average intelligence. Reasonably good-looking if you like dark hair and dark eyes. Athletic. All of my sisters can sing and my mom can cook.” Maybe he wasn’t what she was looking for in a donor, but he had to make the offer. She was an amazing woman, and maybe he had lost his goddamn mind, but this was right. It was just deep down in his gut right.

She’d make a beautiful mother and he wanted to make her happy.

Violet looked very serious, her eyes wide behind the lenses of her glasses. “You realize what you’re offering? That my child would be your child? But that I wouldn’t want any money or any contact with you?”

Hell, he knew she didn’t want money. In five minutes, he had figured out that wasn’t what Violet was about. She didn’t work that way. “I know that. And I also know you’ll be a wonderful mother. You’ve got that mom vibe through and through. A kid would be lucky to have you for a mom.”

And why the hell had he brought this up in the hallway? Jesus, could he learn a little tact?

Violet sniffled. He cupped her cheek. “I haven’t done a lot of great things in my life. I haven’t been a bad person, but I’ve had it easy. I’ve been into my own happiness. Maybe it sounds crazy, maybe it’s me feeling like a loser on my birthday, but I want to give you this, if you’ll let me. If my sperm is good enough for you.”

She gave a watery laugh. “It’s more than good enough.” And she burst into tears.

Oh shit. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…what’s the matter?” Crying was no good. He always equated crying with trouble. His sisters bawled and he got yelled at for making them cry. He hadn’t meant to make Violet cry. Dylan hauled her down the hall into his living room. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

He pushed her down onto the couch and looked around the room. There had to be tissues around here somewhere. Maybe in the bathroom. He sprinted down the hall to the half bath and skidded to a halt in front of the sink. There was a box of tissues plunked down on the counter and he knew he owed the maid a thank-you. Violet’s sobbing was getting louder by the second.

Wine. Maybe some wine would help, too. He grabbed a bottle on the way past the wine rack and set it on the coffee table. She took the tissue he gave her and wiped her eyes with it.

“I’m sorry. I’m not upset…honestly.”

Could have fooled him.

“I’m just…just really touched…that you would do this for me.” She choked out her words and Dylan’s heart clenched. “It’s the nicest thing anyone has ever offered to do for me.”

Now he just felt ridiculous. Overexposed. Dylan stood up. “It’s not that big of a deal.” He fished around in a kitchen drawer for a corkscrew. Then he pulled two glasses down out of the cabinet. He really wanted a beer or a shot of tequila, but he’d settle for the wine. Alcohol in any form was better than none at all right at the moment.

Had he just actually offered to father Violet’s baby? And was he really starting to think there might be something to that whole love at first sight crap?

He turned, the glasses in his hand, and stopped cold, wine sloshing over the rims and onto his arm. Violet was just beautiful. She had taken off her glasses and was sitting with her legs tucked under her, hair flowing down over her chest covered in his white T-shirt. Tears streaked her pale cheeks and her green eyes glistened with moisture.

Maybe he did believe in that love at first sight crap.

And he really did want to give her a baby. Like, if he did one important thing in his life, this was it.

“It is a big deal,” she said. “And I don’t know how to say thank you. Or if I should even accept.”

Dylan handed her a wineglass, and drained the other one. “What, you’ll take Forgetful Frank’s sperm, but not mine?” And he had thought Mrs. Martin had taken a pot shot.

“Well…” She sipped the wine. “I’m not sure I really would have. And it was different. I was trying to talk Frank into it. I might have felt guilty if he had offered. Not that that makes any sense.”

“You don’t have to feel guilty. I’m a big boy. I know what I’m doing. I want to do this.” She was going to use his sperm, damn it, or no one’s at all.

Violet stared at him, squinting a little without her glasses. Then she took his hand and squeezed. Moved in a little closer. Brought her mouth very, very close to his.

“Then I’m just going to say thank you, Dylan Diaz. This means the world to me.”

“You’re welcome.” He had a lump in his throat. A big-ass kneecap-size lump. Maybe he was hungry. “Should we order some dinner? And I can throw your bathing suit in the dryer.” Since he was hoping to get her out of her clothes immediately anyway.

“In a minute.” Violet pressed her hands to his chest, her breasts brushing along his arm. “First I’m going to wish you a very happy birthday,” she whispered. “And finish giving you your birthday kisses.”

Maybe she was merely acting out of gratitude, but Dylan couldn’t bring himself to give a shit. “Sounds good to me.”

The words were barely out of his mouth before Violet covered him with her lips, her movements not exactly smooth, but enthusiastic. Mmm, she was doing a little tongue thing, flicking it back and forth.

Then she bit him.

Holy crap, he felt the force of that through every inch of his horny body. His cock jerked in his bathing suit and he gave a moan of approval. Her tongue tentatively dipped into his mouth and Dylan lowered his hands, further, further until he was cupping her ass in the still damp bikini.

She had an incredible body, which brushed against him soft and lush, sparking desperate lust in him with every touch. Her breathing quickened. His hands gripped harder, bumping her against his thigh. Her lips were sweet from the wine and her skin cool, and he was hotter than hell.

After a long seductive minute, she broke the kiss off, much to his profound disappointment.

Dylan sucked in a breath and ran his thumb over her ass. “That was nice, baby, real nice. And that was number four, remember. You’ve got to go all the way to twenty-eight.”

She licked her lips. “That could take a while.”

Amen to that.

“Uh-huh. No rush. We’ve got all night.” And he was going to just ignore that bullshit about her not liking sex. She sure in the hell reacted to him like she enjoyed sex. And he’d be willing to bet his left nut Frank sucked in the sack.

They might need some practice before they tried the whole conception thing. A couple of weeks to learn each other’s bodies before they went for the gold. Though the idea of dragging it out for months and months held some appeal, Dylan thought better of it. He didn’t want her to be worrying the whole time. Better to hit a home run right off the first pitch.

“Are you busy tomorrow?” she asked, moving away from him to set her neatly folded glasses down on the coffee table.

“I have a plane to catch in the afternoon. Four-game series against the Yankees. But I’m free in the morning.” They could stay up all night practicing their conception technique, then sleep in late.

“I’m asking because, well, I’m actually ovulating right now.” Violet’s back was to him, but he could practically hear her blush. “So I thought, maybe…”

Hot damn. That was all he needed to hear.

Dylan shucked his shorts off and patted his lap. “Let’s go then.”