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 his palm, and then his tongue took her in as his other palm warmed her other breast.
His tongue was magic, and she was hungry, too. She tried to lift his shirt over his head, but he had to leave her breast to do it, and she groaned. He took her mouth, hard. As her breasts touched his bare chest, she could have sworn she felt sparks, a chilled heat.
He tugged her hips, not breaking the kiss, and she crawled onto his lap. Too eager, they tipped back onto the bed, her kneeling on top of him. He lifted a leg and locked his knee behind her rear to hold her there. Her hands explored his chest, his sides, his neck, his hair. His ears were ticklish, and as he wriggled he slid his hand over her ass, gripping, pushing, grinding her into him.