teeth and wrapped herself in her terry robe
before emerging from her bedroom.
Beau was pacing, occasionally stopping in front of one
of the three touch screens arrayed together or the netbook they surrounded. He
was talking out loud, so he must be on a call. Although what he was saying
didn’t make much sense.
“They don’t. I know they don’t. Does no one even have a
laptop? Google the zoo!”
She tried to make no sound, but he saw her on the way to
the fridge and waved her over. She grabbed a glass of orange juice and joined
him.
He swiped an illustration of a bird off the netbook and
onto one of the bigger screens, enlarging it, and swept a different image onto
another screen. “Which one is better?”
“For what?”
“For a penguin!”
She frowned. “They’re both wrong. They have tails.”
He threw up his hands and turned away from her. “They
can, too, tell the difference. I just ran a field test with two subjects, and
they both know it’s wrong. Fix it.” There was a pause. “So be it. Get me Meri
on the phone.” He pressed his ear, disconnecting the call. “Meri is in
India
, with the
secondary artists. The ones who have never seen a penguin.”
“This is the new addition to the game?”
“Supposed to be. Guess we’ll be going with ‘unexpected
delays’ at the cons this month.”
She looked at the images again. “It shouldn’t be that
hard a fix.”
He looked past her, to the clock on the wall. “Still an
hour before they’ll bring us breakfast. You should go back to bed.”
She looked at him steadily. “My thoughts and feelings
haven’t changed.”
Suddenly, all his attention was directed at her. Even
his gaze alone could make her hot.
“Mine either.” He took the half-full glass from her hand
and downed the rest of the juice.
“That’s mine.”
“Then come take it back.” He raised his eyebrows in
clear challenge.
She rose to it. Scooping her hand up and over his belt,
she pulled him close. Their lips met, their tongues, and it was last night all
over again. Except better.
She tugged at his shirt, and it slipped free of his
slacks. Finally, her palms touched skin, and she thrilled to the shiver they
touched off in him.
His mouth possessed hers, and she gave him what he
wanted, everything, willingly, wantonly. Excitement built behind her closed
eyes and down her spine. Just kissing him made her wet.
He slid a palm over her hip, under the shirt of her pajamas,
and her knees buckled. They sank slowly, him supporting her, to the plush
carpet. The angle was wrong, and her mouth fell away from his.
His eyes were dark and large, his mouth so mobile, his
breaths heavy. She’d done that. She smiled, despite her own heavy breathing.
“Miss Reed, might I show you my etchings? I have them
there in my bedroom.”
“You mean your condoms?”
“Those, too. May I?”
She nodded, and he swept her into his arms. Careful of
her head, he carried her down the short hall and kicked open the bedroom door.
The room looked as if no one had stayed in it.
“You make your own bed?”
“It’s nothing,” he said, tipping her to her feet by the
bed so he could pull the covers away. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled
her to face him between his legs. “You’re sure?”
“You have to ask?” He couldn’t see?
“I need to be sure. I don’t usually do this, and I don’t
think you do, either. I don’t want to be something you regret.”
She’d regret if they didn’t move on with the program right
now. “I’m sure.”
“Good.” His mouth softened in relief. “I’m so hungry for
you.” He pushed off the terry robe and touched one of the toucans patterning
May’s pajamas. “Yours?”
“My college roommate worked in fabrics. We
collaborated.”
“She has good taste in fabric.” He traced the curve of
her breast through the fabric. “So soft.” She arched into his touch. He made
short work of the buttons holding the shirt together in the front. First
before emerging from her bedroom.
Beau was pacing, occasionally stopping in front of one
of the three touch screens arrayed together or the netbook they surrounded. He
was talking out loud, so he must be on a call. Although what he was saying
didn’t make much sense.
“They don’t. I know they don’t. Does no one even have a
laptop? Google the zoo!”
She tried to make no sound, but he saw her on the way to
the fridge and waved her over. She grabbed a glass of orange juice and joined
him.
He swiped an illustration of a bird off the netbook and
onto one of the bigger screens, enlarging it, and swept a different image onto
another screen. “Which one is better?”
“For what?”
“For a penguin!”
She frowned. “They’re both wrong. They have tails.”
He threw up his hands and turned away from her. “They
can, too, tell the difference. I just ran a field test with two subjects, and
they both know it’s wrong. Fix it.” There was a pause. “So be it. Get me Meri
on the phone.” He pressed his ear, disconnecting the call. “Meri is in
India
, with the
secondary artists. The ones who have never seen a penguin.”
“This is the new addition to the game?”
“Supposed to be. Guess we’ll be going with ‘unexpected
delays’ at the cons this month.”
She looked at the images again. “It shouldn’t be that
hard a fix.”
He looked past her, to the clock on the wall. “Still an
hour before they’ll bring us breakfast. You should go back to bed.”
She looked at him steadily. “My thoughts and feelings
haven’t changed.”
Suddenly, all his attention was directed at her. Even
his gaze alone could make her hot.
“Mine either.” He took the half-full glass from her hand
and downed the rest of the juice.
“That’s mine.”
“Then come take it back.” He raised his eyebrows in
clear challenge.
She rose to it. Scooping her hand up and over his belt,
she pulled him close. Their lips met, their tongues, and it was last night all
over again. Except better.
She tugged at his shirt, and it slipped free of his
slacks. Finally, her palms touched skin, and she thrilled to the shiver they
touched off in him.
His mouth possessed hers, and she gave him what he
wanted, everything, willingly, wantonly. Excitement built behind her closed
eyes and down her spine. Just kissing him made her wet.
He slid a palm over her hip, under the shirt of her pajamas,
and her knees buckled. They sank slowly, him supporting her, to the plush
carpet. The angle was wrong, and her mouth fell away from his.
His eyes were dark and large, his mouth so mobile, his
breaths heavy. She’d done that. She smiled, despite her own heavy breathing.
“Miss Reed, might I show you my etchings? I have them
there in my bedroom.”
“You mean your condoms?”
“Those, too. May I?”
She nodded, and he swept her into his arms. Careful of
her head, he carried her down the short hall and kicked open the bedroom door.
The room looked as if no one had stayed in it.
“You make your own bed?”
“It’s nothing,” he said, tipping her to her feet by the
bed so he could pull the covers away. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled
her to face him between his legs. “You’re sure?”
“You have to ask?” He couldn’t see?
“I need to be sure. I don’t usually do this, and I don’t
think you do, either. I don’t want to be something you regret.”
She’d regret if they didn’t move on with the program right
now. “I’m sure.”
“Good.” His mouth softened in relief. “I’m so hungry for
you.” He pushed off the terry robe and touched one of the toucans patterning
May’s pajamas. “Yours?”
“My college roommate worked in fabrics. We
collaborated.”
“She has good taste in fabric.” He traced the curve of
her breast through the fabric. “So soft.” She arched into his touch. He made
short work of the buttons holding the shirt together in the front. First
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