Nerds Like It Hot (Nerds, #6)(24)
Author: Vicki Lewis Thompson

"If you do, Dante will show up." "Then I won’t."

"I don’t believe you." Leaning down, he kissed her as he shoved his penis deep into the warmest, slickest vag**a he’d ever had the pleasure to enter. Her muffled groan melded with his as he pumped once, twice. On the third stroke they both came in indescribable splendor.

The glory of it was so complete that Lex forgot about muting his reaction, forgot that he was lying on a twin bed shoved against the door to keep out a potential killer, forgot that Gillian thought their stars were out of alignment. This was the most perfect moment of his life. The smart thing would be to give up sex right now, at the pinnacle of sexual achievement. Nothing could ever be this good again. Nothing.

OUTSIDE GILLIAN’S DOOR, NEIL STOOD LISTENING IN absolute fascination to the interchange. It played hell with his plans to know Gillian was in there with Lex Manchester, but discovering that Lex enjoyed wearing women’s undies was almost worth the setback. People constantly surprised him.

Here he’d thought his target was a mousy little makeup artist, and she’d turned out to be a blond bombshell who wore designer dresses. And now she had an honest-to-God boyfriend, which complicated matters quite a bit.

The boyfriend wouldn’t be as easy to work around as an eighty-two-year-old woman.

And what a boyfriend Gillian had! Neil had pegged Lex Manchester for a semigeek who wasn’t nearly flashy enough for the likes of Gillian. Neil still wasn’t sure about the flashy part, but Lex had the kinky scene covered.

Even more interesting, Gillian seemed excited that Lex wanted to model her underwear. Neil would never have guessed that she would like that. Some women were horrified by such a discovery, but Gillian had been so turned on that they’d done it right there on the floor by the closet. Just his luck, Neil was taped up again and couldn’t fully enjoy the vicarious thrill of that.

He’d left BJ and Dorothy back in the room playing with makeup and clothes. He’d had to change the dynamics that had been going on in that room, because being unfettered under his silk pajamas had made him increasingly nervous. He’d accomplished the haircut, but there had been a few close calls when he could have sworn Dorothy suspected he wasn’t one hundred percent female.

Finally, when the party had shown no sign of winding down, he’d suggested going to the bar and rummaging up some drinks for them. They were more than happy to let him do that and avoid a room service charge. So he’d gone back into the bathroom, taped himself again and dressed in sweats.

He hadn’t minded the way things had developed, because while cutting Dorothy’s hair, he’d come up with what had seemed like a fabulous idea. Without Lex Manchester to deal with, it would have been.

Neil’s manicure scissors hadn’t been the best thing to use for a haircut, but struggling with them had made him realize that they could be a weapon, a weapon that was easily discarded over the side when he was finished. Everyone had manicure scissors. If he used surgical gloves, no one would be able to trace anything to him.

Bruise marks were more distinctive, so it was a good thing he hadn’t gone through with his earlier strangling plan. Tucking his small bottle of ether and a hankie in one pocket, the scissors and the gloves in the other, he’d left the room ostensibly bound for the bar. No one would ever have to know about his detour past Gillian’s room.

He’d expected to find her in there with Cora. Rumor had it Cora was going slightly deaf, so he might not have to knock her out with the ether. He could start with Gillian, and once she was unconscious, go to work with the manicure scissors. She’d bleed to death by morning.

But now Gillian had a new roommate, one who liked to wear satin panties. That put a whole new light on things. Although his plan was foiled, Neil had to admit it made the game more interesting.

Eighteen

JARED STEVENSON THE THIRD’S VOICE CRASHED INTO Gillian’s dreams. "Breakfast, featuring our special French toast with blueberry sauce, is now being served in the dining room."

Gillian pulled the covers over her head and tried to block out the irritating announcement, but it wouldn’t go away.

"A fine array of pastries and fruit is also available on the terrace on A Deck. Don’t forget to join us for the calypso party and limbo contest this morning at eleven on A Deck."

Limbo contest. Cora. Lex. She’d spent the night with Lex. Cautiously she peered out from the covers, but he was no longer in bed with her.

"And for more fun than you can stand, don’t miss our special Underwater Charades at two this afternoon. In case you can’t guess, it takes place in the pool! If you don’t have a partner, see Dr. Lawrence and find out who on board is your star-crossed lover. It’s a gorgeous day at sea!"

"Good morning."

At the sound of Lex’s deep baritone, Gillian rolled over, which wrapped her like a mummy in the bedspread. There had been no bedspread when she’d zonked out, exhausted from stress and sex. The man standing at the end of the mattress, the fully dressed man, must have fetched the bedspread during the night.

Despite a growth of beard, he still looked good, damn him. It wasn’t fair that men could get up in the morning, run their fingers through their hair, throw on their clothes, and be presentable. She was afraid to see what her hair looked like. When it had been long and straight, she’d had some control, but this short blond arrangement could turn into a fright wig overnight.

She didn’t want Lex to see that and have all his illusions destroyed. She and Lex had enjoyed quite the time last night, but this morning, with him completely clothed and her still nak*d inside the bedspread, she felt at a disadvantage.

"You got dressed," she said. It came out sounding like an accusation.

He grinned. "So sue me."

Well, that was an Aries for you. A romantic would have stayed in bed with her and kissed her awake, instead of waiting until Jared Stevenson the Third blasted her with cheerful announcements of activities she didn’t want to do in the first place. A romantic would have cuddled with her and told her what a magic night they’d had together. Then he would have suggested room service for breakfast.

An Aries would get up, get dressed, and—when confronted with the fact—say so sue me. "You don’t look happy," he said.

"Never mind. You wouldn’t understand." She desperately wanted to tell him to go get himself a cup of coffee, or find a way to make her own graceful exit. That’s when she realized the pickle she was in. They were officially sharing the same room.

Worse than that, no one could leave, or even get into the bathroom, until someone moved this mattress. There was no way in hell she was moving this mattress nak*d. She was already feeling awkward about everything that had happened while she was in this condition.

That awkwardness could have been prevented if he’d stayed nak*d and in bed with her. Then they would have had a level playing field. But that wasn’t how things had turned out, and now she had to figure out her next move. She didn’t want to end up looking dorky.

She had a bad feeling she’d behaved like a wild woman last night. Her hormones must have been in full flood. He’d taken off his clothes, and she’d gone ballistic over his sexual accoutrements. Why would a guy think he had to be romantic when a woman had spent the whole night worshiping his guy stuff?

"Hey, Gillian," he said softly. Crouching down, he crawled toward her. "I don’t know what’s bothering you, but I’ll help if I can. Maybe you’d like to unwind yourself from that bedspread. Pretend you’re Cleopatra, rolling out of that rug in front of Caesar."

That made her smile. It wasn’t every man who would come up with an image like that. "How’d you do in Roman history?"

"Aced it."

"Me, too."

He pulled the bedspread aside so he could give her a soft kiss on the mouth. "You know the amazing thing about the Romans?"

"They could really throw a party?"

"That, too. But they had bathrooms that actually worked. It was very civilized." He paused. "Unlike this stateroom at the moment."

"I see your point. If you’ll go stand over by the window, I’ll move off the mattress so we can get the room back in order."

He laughed. "Gillian, it’s not like I haven’t seen you nak*d."

"But not in daylight." Because he was a guy, and an Aries besides, she wondered if he’d understand the difference. Probably not. "Please go stand over by the window."

"You’re going to deny me the pleasure of watching you walk around with no clothes on?"

"Um . . . well." That was a little better. A compliment like that tended to put more sparkle in the day.

He smoothed his hand down the bedspread that was rolled so tightly around her that she was beginning to feel a little claustrophobic. "You’ll be like a butterfly coming out of a cocoon," he said.

"I’ll be like a gopher crawling out of a hole." But she was cheered by the butterfly comment. That was definitely on the romantic side.

"Come on." He started unwrapping the bedspread. "Give me a little eye candy to start the day."

"Now you’re being silly." But she let him peel the bedspread away. His approach had improved greatly from his first comment of the morning. Of course, he was a smart guy. And no doubt he expected that what they’d had last night would recur if he could keep her happy.

"Ah, Gillian." He gazed down at her. "Now that’s what I call sunny-side up." Leaning down, he nuzzled her breast and took her nipple into his mouth.

She tried to stay uninvolved, but soon she was moaning and combing her fingers through his hair. He knew exactly how to roll her nipple with his tongue to get maximum effect. The rough scratch of his beard against her skin made the contact that much more excellent.

Slowly he raised his head. "If I didn’t have to pee so bad, I would talk you into using that second condom."

She looked into his eyes and saw the laughter there. She couldn’t help smiling. "That’s about the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me."

"I knew you’d be impressed." Grinning, he levered himself off the mattress, caught her hands and pulled her up with him. Then he stood back to look at her. "Then again, maybe I can hold it."

"No, no. We need to move this thing. It’s a great security measure, but it severely—"

A walkie-talkie buzzed.

"That’s mine." Lex walked over to the dresser and picked it up. "Lex." He listened intently for a few seconds. "We’ll be right there. I’m sure she’s in the professor’s room. Right. See you soon. Over."

"What?" Gillian fought rising panic. It was becoming far too familiar a feeling.

"Dante woke up to find Cora gone. No note, no nothing. He tried to reach her on her walkie-talkie, but no answer."

Gillian’s mind raced through a dozen horrible possibilities. "She’s probably fine." But she turned immediately to the mattress and tried to pull it out of the entryway.

"Here. Let me."

"We’ll both pull. I’m sure Cora’s fine." "I’m sure she is."

"But she’s eighty-two." Gillian pulled hard on the mattress. They’d wedged it in tight with all their shenanigans.

"Yeah." Lex gave a mighty heave and the mattress came free. They both almost lost their balance. "But she’s been taking care of herself for a long time," he said.

"Nobody would be after her, would they?"

"I can’t think why." He put down his corner of the mattress. "Let it go. I’ll get behind it and lift it from that end.’*

"Lex." Gillian tried to shut out the ghastly thought, but it wouldn’t go away. "What if someone kidnapped her and plans to use her to get to me?"

"I think that’s highly unlikely.""

"Do you?"

He looked at her. "I hope to God it is. Let’s leave this mattress in the middle of the floor and just get going."

MOMENTS LATER, LEX HURRIED OUT THE DOOR OF the stateroom, Gillian by his side. He hadn’t shaved, and neither of them had showered. They’d thrown on clothes, not caring how they looked. It wasn’t important. He’d barely remembered to grab his nerd glasses, but at the last minute he’d remembered to put them on. He clicked on his walkie-talkie. "Dante, where are you?"

The walkie-talkie crackled. "I’ve checked the dining room and the terrace where they’re serving the continental breakfast. She’s not there. I tried to find out where the professor’s room is, but they won’t give out that information. Listen, what do we know about him, anyway? Over."

"Only what’s in the brochure," Lex said. He didn’t say that the professor could be a serial killer, but it was what his out-of-control brain was suggesting. The good professor could be a person who preyed on sweet old ladies. "Did you try calling his room? Over."

"Shit! That’s so obvious! I panicked when she wasn’t there and started chasing around the ship. There’s a house phone right here where I am. Let me try that and get back to you. Over and out."

Gillian tugged on Lex’s arm. "I have an idea."

"Let’s hear it."

"These two people are old, right? They get up early. What if they went for a walk on deck, and—" "Fell over? Oh, my God."

"I hadn’t thought of that!" She clutched his arm. "Maybe we should tell them to stop the ship."

"Wait. What were you about to say?"

"But if they could have fallen overboard, then—"

"I shouldn’t have jumped to that conclusion." He caught her by the shoulders. "You had an idea. What was it?"

"That they might have found a secluded spot to watch the sunrise."

"Then why didn’t Cora answer her walkie-talkie?"

"Between the sound of the engines and the water churning past, and taking into account her hearing, she might have missed the signal."

Lex nodded. "Sounds logical. I hope you’re right." His walkie-talkie buzzed again and he answered it. He listened for a moment. "Hey, Dante, thanks for checking it out. Gillian thinks they might have found a private spot on deck to watch the sunrise. You take A and B, and we’ll take C and D. Keep in touch. Over and out."