Bobby & Rachel: Sin Comin' On

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"I wouldn't eat those if I were you."
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"I wouldn't eat those if I were you," a deep, drawling voice sent shivers down my spine.

"No? Why not?" I turned as I asked the question. A pair of startling blue eyes in a tanned, weathered face smiled back at me. I knew it would be him, though how he'd wormed his way behind me in the buffet line, I had no idea.

"Because, young lady, those beans there" -- he used his plastic fork to point at the baked beans in the chafing dish next to the beef brisket -- "aren't homemade. And you don't sound like you're from around here. I'd hate for you to get the wrong impression about Southern cooking," he explained.

"Really." By now, we were holding up the buffet line at the Rockford Annual Marketing Convention, and people were impatiently waiting for us to continue our conversation elsewhere. I looked down at my meagre plate with a bit of green salad and a biscuit. "What about the beef? Is it safe?"

"Mmhmm, here you go," the blond-haired man ladled a bit onto my plate. "The only way to tell is for me to have lunch with you and act as your advisor on Southern fare," he grinned.

I humphed and lead the way to two seats on the far side of the hall. Somehow, he dropped his own plate on the table and beat me to my chair, pulling it out for me like a real gentleman. Seated, I realized how tall he was -- at least six foot two or so to my five foot one... and a half.

"Bobby Wagner." His large, warm hand enveloped my small one. He stroked my palm a little as he released my fingers, coating me with shivers. I knew his name already, I'd spent half the convention staring at him, and he'd spent the other half carefully staring at me. Of course, we'd done it when neither was supposed to be looking. He was from some hick town in Oklahoma, according to the placard in front of him at the conference table. Not that I'd sneaked a peek when he went to the mens' room during a break, or anything.

"Rachel Moss," I grinned back at him, totally captured by the way he moved and his confidence. I wrinkled my nose. "Exactly what is beef brisket, anyway?"

I'd like to say that I made some startling, witty remarks during lunch, but I didn't. I learned a little about him; he worked for a large marketing firm in Tulsa. His boss had sent him to this convention as a way to get him to take a vacation, though he wasn't supposed to guess that. What Bobby didn't say -- but what was plainly obvious -- was that HE was looking for a little extracurricular activity, if I should be so interested. The intensity of his gaze and his total attention flattered me.

In turn, I told him about my work for a large corporation in Toronto, how I'd never been so far south before and even about my pet rabbit. Looking back, it seems stupid. I have the feeling Bobby wasn't really listening to the words coming out of my lips. Instead, I think he was watching my mouth. Aside from making me totally self-conscious, it was incredibly sexy.

"Want to skip the rest of the afternoon and go find something else to do?" Bobby grinned at me, wickedly voicing my own thoughts. Right then, I was thinking low, dirty thoughts. Thoughts that involved my mouth and his fly. I blushed.

"Absolutely not. They paid for me to be here, I'm supposed to be learning. But thanks for the brisket tips," I sassed. Before he could get up, I cleared out my plate and dashed to the ladies' room. I'd made a getaway this time, but next time he asked -- and there would be a next time -- I didn't want to say no.

***

"So, how do you want to do this?" A voice behind me questioned softly.

I turned slightly, a grin on my face. It was Bobby; I'd known it would be.

"I'm sorry? Do what?" I asked, pretending ignorance to what his blue eyes were blatantly asking. It had been twenty-four full hours, and I'd managed to avoid being caught alone by Bobby since our beef brisket date. Not that I didn't want him to catch me; I just wanted him to have to work at it.

"You know what. This is the last night of the Convention. Do you really want to spend it hanging around here getting drunk with these folks?" Bobby smiled in an amused fashion. He leaned against the wall behind me, his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

"I suppose you have a better idea?" I asked. I turned away from him and scanned the room. I hated to admit it, but he was right. The buffet dinner long since over, the attendees at the Convention were rapidly consuming the contents of the bar and laughing ribaldly at each others' jokes. I had a long flight through Dallas and back to Toronto in the morning. The last thing I wanted to do was get bombed.

"Come on, your room's only up three floors. What do you say?" He leaned in and nuzzled the side of my neck and I tingled a little with pleasure, even as I leaned my head further to the side to give him more access.

"Thank you, but I don't recall inviting you to my room, which, by the way, is on the sixth floor," I said primly. I really did want to go back to my hotel room, but I wasn't planning on making it that easy for him. Part of the fun was the thrill of the chase! I had the feeling this wasn't the only rejection I'd have to give him tonight. "I feel like getting some air. If you'll excuse me..."

He laughed out loud and watched me walk from the room. I could feel his gaze on me, but he didn't move to follow. Damn. I really was going to have to go outside, now.

Surprisingly, I appreciated the fresh air outside the hotel. I hadn't noticed how much the banquet room had begun to smell like stale alcohol and unwashed bodies. I imagine that the natives would have called it cold outside, but to a Canadian like me, it was almost balmy.

Behind me came the jingling of keys.

"Feel like going for a ride?" Bobby had appeared from nowhere, holding up a ring of keys. "Tulsa's close enough to drive over, so my boss wouldn't pay for airfare. My car's right over there... and the hotel has the license plate if you're nervous." For a moment, his eyes were serious, before he showed me to his car. It was a showy little red sportscar. Not exactly what I'd expected.

"I thought rednecks drove pickup trucks?" I slid into the passenger seat with a saucy swing of my jean-clad hips.

"I have one of those, too, but this is better on gas. Hang on!" With that, he tore out of the parking lot and hit the quiet highway. After being cooped up in the hotel for several days, the speed of the little car gave me a daring shot of adrenaline.

"So, when we get back, are we going to your room?" Bobby asked, skilfully maneuvering his way around an old Lincoln.

"No," I smiled. I dropped my hand onto his thigh and left it there as he swung around another car.

"Mmhmm," he muttered. "I just bet we aren't." He grabbed my hand and pulled it further up his thigh, and I laughed, unsure of where this game was going, but willing to play along.

I leaned as close as I could get in the bucket seats, and whispered in his ear, "What exactly did you have in mind, Bobby? I'm a sweet and innocent girl, and I have the feeling you're a dangerous man."

"Dangerous? Young lady, I am not dangerous, but I have the feeling you're a loaded weapon." He swung the car onto an off-ramp, and just as quickly, back onto an on-ramp headed back to the hotel.

***

I wasn't sure exactly how it had happened, but there I was, leaning against my hotel room door, with Bobby hovering as close as decency permitted...maybe a little closer. One muscled arm was planted on the wall far above my head as he leaned toward me.

"All right, listen," he pitched his voice low and spoke directly into my ear. "I didn't get a single room; I'm sharing with another guy from my company. He was doing his best to convince a blonde from Arizona to go upstairs with him, and I have the feeling he succeeded. So this ol' country boy hasn't got a bed tonight." I laughed out loud. From what I could tell during the Convention, he was pretty far up the corporate ladder; he certainly wasn't a poor country boy.

His face creased into a warm smile. "Surely you're not gonna make me spend the night prowling around in the lobby, are you? Not when you've got two big double beds in there?" He ran his hand through my short hair and smiled into my eyes.

"Um, no, Bobby, I don't," I grinned.

"You don't what, young lady?" His face buried in my neck and his hand wrapped around my waist, he really wasn't paying a whit of attention to what I was saying. That was a bad habit and it just had to be stopped. Maybe I could shock him into paying attention.

"I don't have two double beds. Here, take a look." It was lame, but the best reason I could think of to open the door and...er...show Bobby my room. I flicked on the bathroom light as we walked in.

"Well, damn." Bobby whistled. I had a king-size bed in my room. One. Large. King-size bed.

"Well, now. That's a whole different ballgame!" His eyes alight with mischief, he tracked me around the bed as I moved to close the curtains.

I let him catch me, let him wrap his arms around my waist as I buried my hands under his coat. He leaned toward me, forcing me to lean back to look into his eyes.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked gently. It seemed a strange request, such a gentlemanly move that I was taken aback. He didn't wait for my response, but slowly lowered his lips to mine. Bobby kissed me softly and withdrew before I had a chance to really taste him. In an instant, his lips were back, soft gentle kisses that stoked up the fire between my legs.

Over and over he placed tiny, sweet kisses on my lips, my cheeks, nuzzling his way to my ears until I was drowning in heat. Reaching up, I grabbed his scruffy cheeks and pulled his lips to mine. I kissed him like I wanted him to kiss me. My tongue dove into his mouth; I suckled on his lower lip as he groaned.

"I like the way you kiss, Rachel," he muttered. His hands slid up from my waist as his tongue dueled with mine. Something about him lit a fire in me; I needed to touch him as much as I wanted to push this forward Okie away.

Our lips slid and slipped across each other, teasing and licking. I pushed his coat off his broad shoulders, letting it fall in a heavy puddle on the floor beside the bed. In turn, he wrapped his big hands around my waist and pushed my blouse out of his way to touch bare skin. "You're sweating, Rachel. Why are you sweating?"

Bobby lifted his head and grinned at me with dark heat in his eyes. I shrugged and smiled slowly. "'cause I'm hot," I breathed.

"Well, now, let me help with that, honey." His lips dove down on mine and his hands worked at the little buttons on the front of my blouse. Before long, my top joined his coat on the floor.

"Wow," he muttered, lifting his lips from mine to gaze down at my breasts. Fortuitously, I'd chosen to wear my pink lace bra that day, rather than the sports bra I'd worn the day before. It seemed to have had the desired effect, as Bobby's hands slid up my waist and wrapped themselves around my taut globes. My nipples puckered immediately through the lace. Needles of heat shot straight to my groin.

"Oh my," I choked out. "Are we moving too fast?" I glanced up at him, my arms wrapped around his tanned neck, my back arched to push my breasts into his hands. Bobby dragged his eyes from the movement of his hands and turned serious again for a moment.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked.

I wavered for an instant. but his gaze held steady. Was it really such a good idea to do this with a stranger? But it felt like I'd been touching him forever. He was sexy as hell... I wanted to sleep with him.

"Kiss me and then ask me again," I whispered.

He grinned and complied, his lips moving across mine with subtle familiarity. His hands reached around behind me and cleverly located the clasp on my bra. It joined the growing pile of clothes on the floor.

"Wait a minute!" I protested. "It's your turn to take something off!" Bobby leaned over, suckling my neck, teasing my ear with his tongue, but his hands obediently moved to his own shirt. Lost in the feeling of five o'clock shadow nuzzling against the curve of my neck, I was hazily aware that buttons popped off the shirt before the shirt hit the floor.

In an instant, my hands smoothed across his chest. A smattering of light-coloured hair sat high on his pectorals, but the rest of him was smooth and hard. Some parts harder than others...

He groaned when I tentatively ran my nails down his back. Then it was my turn to choke back a cry as his hands found my nipples and squeezed gently. "You have nice tits," he whispered, stroking his callused hands over my sensitive skin. There wasn't a thing about this country boy that didn't scream masculine, and my femininity responded in an overflow of creamy wetness.

I couldn't believe how much I wanted Bobby. It had been years since I'd felt this strong attraction to a man, and I gasped at the heat that surged through my veins. Without thinking, I dropped to the bed behind me and hauled Bobby close by his belt loops. He half-laughed, half-gasped, until he realized my intention and lost his breath altogether.

I yanked open his fly and pulled his jeans away from the hardness pressing against his boxers. As if it was a well-practised move -- it wasn't -- I freed his member and wrapped my tongue snugly around the tip. Bobby shuddered above me, combing his fingers through my hair with one hand and holding me by the back of the neck with the other.

I moaned with pleasure as I suckled on the strong, thick length of him. THIS, this is what I'd wanted to do from the moment I'd first seen him at the Convention. Generally I didn't like going down on a man any more than the average woman, but there was no way that a woman could not want to give this particular man as much pleasure as possible.

My tongue danced down one side of his cock, wrapped around his sac, and circled back up the other side as slowly as possible. Bobby's hand clenched reflexively in my hair and he urged me on with gentle thrusts of his hips. "Rachel, I don't know where you learned that, but I like it," he growled, his blue eyes starkly electrifying against his flushed face.

Beneath my nimble tongue, his breath came shorter, his hips thrust faster, and Bobby knotted a hand in my hair in almost a painful fashion. "I think you love this," I pointed out. I blew cool breath on the heat in front of me. It swelled and throbbed in time with his rapid heartbeat.

"God damn it, yes," he muttered. He urged my lips back around his length, and I complied by suckling him in great, swooping motions. I took a moment and looked straight up. It was enough to make me want to come, just sitting there. His hands in my hair, his bronzed chest bare, his eyes intently watching the movements of my mouth... He was starkly male and I was hot as hell for him.

"I want you...to keep going. But you've got...to stop now." Bobby gently extricated himself from my mouth and I shivered with want. In front of me, his cock glistened, harder than it was when I'd first taken it into my mouth, and oozing with his desire.

Bobby yanked me off the bed long enough to push my jeans and panties onto the floor. A quick toss, and he threw me into the middle of the giant mattress. His jeans and boxers followed my jeans, and in an instant, his teeth were placing tiny bites all around my nipples. My nipples puckered immediately. I combed through his short blond hair, pulling him closer, closer. I wanted him on top of me, I wanted to feel his hardness between my legs, I wanted to know that we were going to do this NOW.

"Do you want me to leave?" His words pulled me out of a red haze.

"What?" I asked. Surely I had misheard him. Did he think I was malformed or something? Was one boob really bigger than the other? I looked into his face, and his eyes were laughing at me.

"You told me to kiss you and then ask you again. So I'm asking you. Rachel, do you want me to leave?"

Frustrated and laughing, I pulled his mouth up and kissed his smirk away. "If you leave, I'll chase you naked down the hall," I promised.

"Now that would almost be worth seeing," Bobby mused. Giggling breathlessly, I shoved his face back down to my breasts, and groaned happily when he suckled a rosy nipple into his mouth. He spent a great deal of time on my breasts, moving back and forth between nipples, clenching my breasts together and suckling both nipples at the same time, cupping them in his hands and leaving tiny red bite marks all around my soft flesh.

Gasping now, safely back in the red haze of desire, I didn't notice that his right hand had wandered until I felt his fingers teasing the slick flesh between my thighs. I almost came then, with his fingers barely touching my clit.

"Oh my...God, Bobby. Please..." I gasped, bucking slightly on the bed. I didn't know if I wanted his mouth on my nipple or his hand on my clit... or whether I just wanted more of everything. Face flushed, I opened my eyes and stared at him.

He leaned up on one elbow and stared down at me. "Please what?" He asked. Mindless, I had no idea what he was talking about. He smiled, a wicked, slow smile that belied the heat in his eyes.

"Please more of this?" He asked, and bit my nipple, then laved it with his hot tongue.

"Please more of this?" He asked again, and flicked his thumb against my swollen clit. I sobbed gently into the pillow, knowing that what I'd meant was simply please more of everything, but unable to form the words.

"Or please this?" Bobby asked for the last time. A nimble, knowing finger slid slowly into my heat, curving ever so slightly to find that magical spot that makes a woman forget her name. He stroked softly once, twice, watching my face flush with fever. Gauging my reactions, the third thrust was hard, direct, and I forgot who I was.

I screamed. Luckily, Bobby was quick with his lips, and he swallowed my cry before I could bring hotel security running. His tongue swept into the dark corners of my mouth as his fingers danced in the secret parts of my body. I bucked, trying to shake the hand that brought so much pleasure that it hurt.

Finally, he withdrew his fingers, and my sweating body settled on the wrinkled sheets. His tongue danced across my collarbone, even as I panted for breath. But he wasn't done yet.

"Rachel, you're a loaded weapon. Isn't that what I told you? You're the one who's dangerous, young lady," Bobby whispered, and he was gone for a moment. I thought wildly that he'd left, until I heard a foil wrapper rip open and he sheathed himself in a condom. In an instant, he adjusted himself to settle between my thighs.

His heat burned me as he rubbed himself on my wetness. "Haven't you come yet?" I asked fuzzily, trying to focus on his flushed face.

He shook softly with laughter. "No, honey, that was you."

I laughed with him, as he slowly, ever so slowly, drove himself home. Neither of us laughed, though, as Bobby began a steady rhythm, gently thrusting and withdrawing, sending sparks of tingling awareness through my still-sensitive nerves.

"Rachel," he muttered, "you're so tight. I don't know..."

I gasped at a particularly hard thrust. I think Bobby was finally starting to lose some of his control, and I felt a strong surge of power that I was the one who made it happen.

In an instant, he flipped over. Suddenly he was sprawled beneath me, all six feet some-odd inches of him. He flung one arm over his head, and caressed my hip with the other hand. He gazed at my nakedness out of half-closed eyes. My heart thumped wildly in my chest at the sheer masculinity of his position. Of my position. Perched on top of his hard cock.

I rotated my hips experimentally, testing to see what pattern best suited the pulsing of my own heat. When I settled into a rhythm, bracing my hands on his muscled chest for balance, Bobby's hands reached up and ever so gently caressed my nipples.

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