Emma Holly (15 page)

B.G. rubbed the side of her arm. The gesture calmed her in spite of her wish to stay angry. She had seen what she said. She didn't need to be humored.

As it turned out, this wasn't what B.G. was doing.

"I believe you, Charity," he said, shocking her all over again. "People often see things in this house. It's a place where the impossible is invited in."

"Now
you're
talking like a crazy person."

He laughed, not answering her accusation either way.

His reaction made her shiver even harder than the magically jumping glass. No doubt if she asked, he would give her his explanation for what had happened. A genius like him was sure to have one. To him, this freaky stuff probably seemed normal. The problem was, she didn't want to hear what he had to say.

If the world wasn't what she thought, who knew what else might be true? Worrying about being punished seemed piddly compared to that.

Maybe there
had
been ghosts following her around.

Abruptly overwhelmed, she pushed back her chair and stood.

"I'm tired," she said. "I need to go to my room."

The moment the words were our, her fatigue doubled, her knees as wobbly as warm Jell-O.

"I'll walk you back," Eric said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. The squeeze he put into his grip was exactly the
comfort
she craved. For a while tonight, she'd been thinking maybe his boss was more interesting. Now she wanted nothing more than to let Eric lead her away.

"I'm sorry," B.G. said, sounding like he really was. "Believe me, I couldn't have predicted this would happen. I never meant to spoil your meal."

"The meal was delicious," she said. "Please tell your cook she's super good." Then, because she truly didn't want him to be hurt, she pressed her hand to his cheek.

The touch made him blink at her rapidly.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she said.

"Yes," he said. "Tomorrow."

His breath caught as if he'd thought of saying something else. She didn't stick around to see what it might be.

Eric
walked her to her room, glad he was there for her even if he wasn't sure how aware she was of his presence. She moved beside him in a daze, only speaking after he'd closed the door. When she plunked down on the low edge of her futon, she looked young and lost.

Perversely, this kicked Eric's arousal back into gear.

"I thought quantum theory was
theoretical
," she said, her hands caught forlornly between her knees.

Eric stepped in front of her and stroked her hair, a pleasure he enjoyed despite his concern. "It
is
theoretical. It's also very well supported."

"You can't prove those things B.G. said. Ghost particles. Fuzzy reality. How can you make experiments for that?"

"Well, you probably have to be a physicist to come up with them. The important thing for people like you and me to remember is that those theories, proven or not, constitute a useful recipe book. Just as you don't have to know chemistry to bake a cake, you don't have to understand Schrödinger's cat to build a laser. The theories gain legitimacy because they work."

"So he wasn't messing with my mind?"

"B.G. does have a quirky sense of humor, but it doesn't lean toward playing pranks."

Charity sighed so heavily a lock of hair fluttered from her brow. As if searching for something solid to hold onto, her hands found the back of his knees. The touch was immediately, forcefully sensual.

She laughed at the sudden lurching at his crotch.

"You think this is sexy." She tilted her head up to see his face. "You like watching me fall apart."

"I admit I like being needed, but I wouldn't say you're falling apart. Of course, I may be overly excitable on account of having a remote-controlled vibrator up my, er, nether parts."

"You're kidding." Caught between laughter and disbelief, she patted his rear to see if she could feel it.

"It's not turned on this minute."

Her touch changed to a caressing squeeze, one that seemed to arouse her as much as him. A rose-pink flush had crept up her cheeks. "B.G. was playing with you at dinner. That's why you were jumpy. I thought maybe you really liked me in the clothes you picked out."

"I did," he said. "I do. Especially the way your bra peeks out from that little jacket." She shivered pleasantly as he tugged the tag of her zipper. "You have the sexiest breasts I've ever seen."

"Better than Sylvia's?" Her tone was only half a tease.

"Better than anyone's you could name." Glad to be able to reassure her on this at least, he slid both hands into her hooded jacket, cupping her rounded flesh through the pale pink bra. Her nipples poked seductively behind the silken barrier.

"Is B.G. watching us?" she whispered. "He told me there was a camera behind that screen. Could that remote of his work this far?"

Eric fought a groan as her nails dragged up the back of his trousers. "Don't know," he said. "With B.G., almost anything is possible."

She rubbed her face against his shirt, breathing through the cotton that overlay the skin above his waist.

When she spoke, her voice was small. "Could you could stay with me tonight? Otherwise, I'm going to lay here like Linda Blair, totally terrified that my furniture is going to start hopping off the ground."

"You shouldn't worry about that. I've only seen small things happen, things I wasn't sure I'd witnessed afterward."

"Yeah? Tell that to Linda."

He laughed, but humor didn't relieve the pounding urgency at his groin. Unable to resist temptation, his hands pushed her tight baby-blue jacket off her shoulders. Still partially zipped, the open edges framed the swell of her breasts.

"I want to stay," he said. "I want to stroke inside you all night."

"Could you?" she asked, her hopeful tone bringing his erection to a painful state. "Is it allowed?"

"It's allowed," he said grimly. "But only if we don't come."

"You sound like that would be hard." The throatiness of her words reminded him of B.G.'s earlier comment, that she enjoyed seeing others suffer sexual denial.

"It would be very hard," he said. "Maybe impossible." But his mind was already imagining how it could be done, his body craving her clasp as if it were a lifesaving drug. "Maybe I could be inside you for a little while. I have…" He hesitated, unsure how she would react, despite B.G.'s insight. "I have a new cock ring."

"A
new
cock ring," she said, laughing softly through her nose. "I can't tell you how that intrigues me."

Relief increased the surging in his veins. "It's not foolproof," he warned. "Cock rings keep blood from leaving the penis, so you stay hard, but when you're as excited as I am, you can still ejaculate."

She laughed and fanned her face. "You sweet-talker, you."

"Sorry, I—"

"No, I mean it," she said with an endearing earnestness. "I love listening to you talk about sexy stuff. Just hearing you say 'ejaculate' makes me hot. And I'd love to have you inside me—even for a while. I remember how hard you were when you rubbed against me at my place."

He couldn't help shuddering at the images her words inspired, at the memory of her oiled-up curves.

"You could come if you wanted to," he said rashly. "B.G. will put a price on it, but I wouldn't stop you. I understand if you need comfort. I want you to be happy here, not afraid."

She looked up at him, her whole being aglow. "If you let me come, he'll make you pay, too."

"Yes," he said. "Despite my being his right hand, he'll make me pay, too."

Her wide, star-struck gaze said she couldn't quite accept this idea: that he would put her pleasure before his pride. "Show me," she said softly. "Prove how much you want me happy."

"Too much," he swore, scarcely aware of what he was saying. "Oh, God, I want you too much."

He peeled off her jacket, not wanting to rush the pleasure of unveiling her but unable to keep it slow. He did pause long enough to kiss her perfect pink toenails and belly ring. Then he noticed her bra had left marks he had to nuzzle off, leading him irresistibly to the buttery smoothness of her taut nipples. At that discovery he could only sigh.

She was satin in his mouth, beading up erotically against his tongue.

For the moment, he forgot about her X-rated jeans. The pleasure he felt at suckling her stole the strength from his knees. Rather than collapse, he knelt on the hardwood floor and hugged her waist. For long, delicious minutes, he did nothing but turn his mouth back and forth.

"Mm," she said, her fingers kneading his scalp. "Let me kiss you, too."

Her suggestion broke his tenuous patience. He wrenched off his shirt with a ripping noise.

This made Charity grin.

"Here?" she said coyly, lightly circling his nipples with her fingertips. "You want me to kiss you here?"

His moan of longing was answer enough. She tugged him up and onto the bed, pushing him firmly onto his back. His chest heaved up and down in anticipation while the nail of her index finger slid from his breastbone to his waistband. Her voice came like the rasping of a match.

"Do you want the cock ring yet?"

He shook his head. Right then, he didn't want any constriction on him but her.

"Should I cup you?" she offered. "Should I feel what it does to you when I suck?"

"Yes," he said, too decided in his preference to be polite. "Squeeze my balls."

His demand brought more lovely color into her face. Slowly, she brought her hand to the crotch of his trousers and curled it around the seam. Her hold was warm, one finger pressing gently between the halves of his testicles. She watched his eyes to see how he liked that.

"Oh, yeah," he said. "Now put your mouth on my nipples."

She licked her upper lip and bent, fastening onto one tiny peak. The sensation was so intense the skin of his belly jumped. Feeling it, her palm squeezed a little tighter between his legs.

Suddenly, she broke off with a laugh. "You taste like mint," she said. "And you're so sharp. I think someone's been getting you ready for me."

Her words had as powerful an
effect
on him as his had on her. Had this been B.G.'s intent? To prepare him for Charity instead of the other way around? His mind was too distracted to answer. When she settled her mouth on his chest again, he felt it even more, lightning streaks that skittered unpredictably along his skin—now to the soles of his feet, now to the tangle of nerves behind his knees. Despite the intensity of his pleasure, he was anxious. He wanted to please her and wasn't sure he could—doubts he thought himself long beyond. Sensing something of his agitation, Charity shifted her hand to his stomach.

"Sh," she said, nuzzling across his chest to the other side. "I'll be careful not to push you over the edge.

This won't be like Sylvia."

The reminder of what he'd seen her do was hardly calming.

"I can feel it," he said, his legs shifting restively. "I can feel everywhere you touch me straight through my cock."

She kissed him on the mouth, deep and hungry and hard. Caught up in the sudden change of treats, he didn't immediately notice her tugging off his trousers.

He gasped as the cooler air of the room hit his blazing cock. He'd forgotten about the butt toy's black velvet bows. Charity snorted out a laugh when they appeared. "Very stylish."

"Hey," he said, "they could have been pink."

She crawled back from him and stood, wriggling out of her low-slung jeans. Having seen her naked before didn't prevent her lush, sleek beauty from punching his gut. Plus, she had a tattoo he hadn't noticed, high on the inside of her thigh, a small blue angel with purple wings.

"That," he said from his pole-axed sprawl, "is the next place I'm going to kiss."

She touched it with her fingertips and grinned. "I had a boyfriend who claimed it was lucky."

"I'm sure every time he got to see it, he was."

She laughed outright, the sound a pleasure to his ears. He couldn't remember the last time he'd joked like this with a guest. Still standing over him, she nodded her head toward her bathroom. "Every kind of rubber you could imagine is stocked in there."

"Extra thick," he said to her unspoken question. "I'm feeling a bit sensitive."

"Looking it, too." She wagged her brows at his bobbing shaft, now stretching toward his waist. Its head twitched at the touch of her gaze. "Maybe I better bring two."

He hoped between the cock ring and wrapping up he'd make it through, but part of him didn't care. He wanted to be inside her enough to risk anything, including shaming himself.

When she returned with the condoms, he sat up on the side of the bed and set them out of the way. With thighs spread wide, he pulled her closer by her hips, kissing the tiny angel that guarded her heaven.

"We'll use the condoms later," he said at her tiny murmur of protest. "I want to kiss your pussy before I slide inside it. I want to make you as hot as you can get."

He coaxed her foot onto the bed, the pose opening her secrets, then slid his thumbs up and down the length of her outer lips. Within two strokes, the tip of her clitoris peeped from its hood. Within a dozen, she was glistening.