Beverly Barton 3 Book Bundle

The first note and sketch had arrived five days ago, last Wednesday. today, she had received a note, the pearls, and a new sketch

She knew that quite a few guys in Adams County had a thing for her. Some were bold enough to proposition her outright, the way Ron had done. And others admired her from afar. Knowing she could arouse men’s passions did a world of good for her ego. But she’d never been approached by such a romantic man in such a romantic way. She laid the pearls aside and lifted the ink sketch. Whoever had drawn this picture had captured the sexy, sultry side of her nature, one she reserved for the bedroom. Either this man had once been her lover or he instinctively knew how she’d look right after making love.

The only guy she’d ever fucked who had the least bit of artistic talent was back in high school—Tim Burcham, Holly Burcham’s cousin. But Tim had gone off to college, had become an architect and now lived somewhere in Virginia.

She really couldn’t think of anyone in Adams Landing who was an artist, except that art professor over at the community college, Dr. Brandon Kelley. About six months ago, he’d started coming into her salon for a haircut and a manicure every few weeks. They’d exchanged some harmless sexual banter, but he’d never actually put the moves on her. Could he be her secret admirer? If he was, he just might be able to give Ron Hensley a run for his money.

Just as she gathered up the items lying on her kitchen table, her telephone rang. She hurriedly stuffed everything into the small box they’d come in, stood up and grabbed the receiver from the wall phone.

“Hello.”

“Abby?”

Not recognizing the voice and wondering if it might be him, Abby shivered with excitement. “Yes, this is Abby. Who are you?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t identify myself immediately. This is Reverend Donaldson. I was wondering if I might stop by and see you for a few minutes this evening.”

Reverend Donaldson? “I—uh—sure, I guess. But why?”

“Your mother-in-law, Glenda Miller, asked me to speak to you.”

That old witch! “Speak to me about what?”

“I’d rather not discuss this over the phone.”

“Then by all means, come on over and we’ll talk face to face.”

“Thank you. I can be there in fifteen minutes.”

“Make it thirty, will you?”

“Thirty minutes, then.”

Fuming, Abby hung up the phone. Just what was her mother-in-law up to? Had Glenda found out about her affair with Ron and was siccing the new minister on her? Or was it something else?

With her gift package under her arm, Abby hurried into her bedroom, tossed the box onto her bed and rummaged through her closet. She wanted to be wearing just the right thing when the good reverend paid her a visit.

* * *

Robyn’s climax sent off explosions through her whole body. She writhed and moaned and clutched at Raymond’s head positioned between her thighs. Her heart raced; her body soared. And her mind turned to mush.

“Oh, God, that was wonderful,” she told him.

He worked his mouth up over her mound, across her belly, dipped into her navel, and then ventured upward to her breasts. When he braced himself over her and came down to suckle one breast and then the other, she bucked up off the bed and clung to him.

“I want you inside me,” she murmured.

“Not yet.”

“Yes, please.”

“I need to protect you,” he said.

“I’m on the pill.”

“I should still wear a condom and I’m afraid I don’t have one.”

She gazed up into his tortured face and smiled. “It’s okay. I have some in the nightstand.” She nodded to her right. “Take your pick.”

He eased off her, opened the nightstand drawer and stared at the variety. “Do you have a preference?”

“Just a plain old ordinary rubber will do just fine.”

He nodded, then sorted through the supply and retrieved a condom. When his trembling fingers couldn’t quite manage to rip apart the packet, Robyn got up on her knees, crawled over beside him and took the packet from him.

“Here, let me do it.” She ripped the shiny plastic apart, removed the condom and scooted out of bed. “I’ll put it on for you.”

When she went down on her knees in front of him, he sucked in a deep breath and groaned. She smiled when she saw the look on his face—a combination of fear and hope and disbelief. How fabulous it was to have a man so in awe of her. She loved the feeling of power it gave her.

Robyn reached out and circled his penis. Pumping his erection several times, she sighed. “I guess you know that you’ve got an impressive cock.” Before he could respond, she leaned down and covered the bulbous tip with her mouth.

“Oh, God!” Raymond cried.

She pressed her tongue against him and sucked gently. He moaned deep in his throat, then clamped his hands down on her shoulders and held her in place. She sucked him for a while, taking all of him into her mouth, then coming up for air, she licked him from tip to root, repeating the process over and over again.

“Robyn… I don’t think I can stand much more of that. You’re driving me crazy.”

She eased off slowly, then took the condom, still in one hand, and fitted it over his rock-hard dick. “Which way? You choose the position.”

“I’ve dreamed of you being on top,” he confessed, his cheeks flushed.

She gave him a shove, toppling him back on the bed. “Then lie back, big boy, and let me fulfill your dreams.”

She climbed on top of him, situated herself over his erection and impaled herself. He filled her completely. When she dangled her breasts over his mouth as she began a slow, steady rhythm, he wasted no time in sampling her offering.

Within a few minutes, Robyn couldn’t hold back because it felt so good to have him inside her, to be on top of him and able to maneuver her body for the greatest sensation. She rode him hard and fast. And when she came, she cried out her satisfaction. A minute later, Raymond came, all the while kissing her like crazy.

“I love you, Robyn. I’ve always loved you.”

As she floated back to reality, the aftershocks of release rippling through her, she slid off him and cuddled to his side. “Oh, Raymond, you’re so sweet.”

Abby loved the look on Reverend Donaldson’s face when she answered the door in a pair of leave-little-to-theimagination short pj’s.

“I … uh … I thought you were expecting me.” He gulped several times.

She reached out, grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and dragged him over the threshold. “I was expecting you.” She twirled around and threw out her arms. “Like what you see?”

“Mrs. Miller, I—”