Talk Nerdy to Me (Nerds, #5)(19)
Author: Vicki Lewis Thompson

"Mess me up, Charlie." She cradled the back of his head and massaged his scalp lightly with her fingertips. "Mess me up real good."

He moaned softly. "You should let me get cleaned up first."

"And take all the fun out of it? Not likely." Her heels gave her enough height to bring her mouth exactly even with his. "Let’s kiss."

"But you have on all that lipstick and stuff." He found it incredibly sexy to look at that red, red mouth that glistened and tempted him to dive in. Even a guy not wearing his glasses could find a target like that. "Afraid to get it on you?"

"No." He wanted it on him. He wanted to drown in her, but she looked so perfect, and if he gave in to his needs, she would become smeared beyond belief. He couldn’t imagine that she really meant what she said about getting messed up. Women didn’t like that, at least not the women he knew.

‘This is professional-grade makeup. You could kiss me all night and it will stay put. If you don’t believe me, feel free to test it out."

He held on for another couple of seconds. Then she ran her tongue slowly over her mouth, which only made it wetter looking.

"Oh, what the hell." A guy could be expected to put up only so much of a protest. Charlie wrapped both arms around her, sawdust and all. "Let the kissing start."

"Hallelujah."

She tasted like raspberries. Whatever this professional-grade stuff was, they’d flavored it with fruit, and raspberries were fast becoming his favorite taste thrill. The delivery system was outstanding. Eve had a way of kissing that made him forget everything but the feel of her mouth on his—moist, supple, open … oh, yes, very open. Exceedingly open to exploration, and he would do that. He most certainly would do that. Mm, sweet. Wet. Good.

He would have sworn that he was only aware of her mouth, but that must not have been entirely true, because before he realized it he’d backed her up against the wall, and his awareness had extended slightly lower. One moment he was totally involved in mouth-to-mouth action, and the next he was incorporating other areas—her chin, her throat, her collarbone, her shoulder.

His breathing shut out all but the deep bass coming down the hall. But deep bass fit the rhythm of his thoughts—his heated, incredibly focused thoughts. He wanted . .. everything.

This dress. Oh, God, this dress. The material was stretchy. He loved that about clothing. The thin strap over her left shoulder went down without a fight, not even threatening to tear. He could live with getting sawdust all over, especially now that she’d said how much she loved contrasts, but ripping was not acceptable.

She must have been helping him out in some subtle way, because he wasn’t sure he could have found the zipper by himself. It was sort of hidden in the back, and she had to arch away from the wall to let him find it. While she was arching, she thrust her br**sts forward, and that kept him occupied for a while so he delayed on the zipper situation.

The thing was, she didn’t have on a bra, so her n**ples poked against the shimmery material and he couldn’t resist that. He had to play with those n**ples until she made little whimpering sounds in the back of her throat. Touching her through the material worked him up so much that finally he had to make use of that zipper in the back so he could get rid of the top part of the dress.

By the time he got the dress pulled down to her waist, damned if she didn’t have some sawdust sprinkled on the prettiest 36B br**sts he’d ever seen. It was his duty to brush off that sawdust. Some of it wouldn’t budge, so he had to resort to licking it off. He’d never eaten sawdust before, but under these conditions he didn’t find it objectionable at all.

Inspecting his work, he decided that her n**ples looked their absolute best when wet and quivering, so he endeavored to keep them in that condition. From the way Eve was quaking and moaning in his arms, he thought she might be happy with his efforts.

He was beyond happy. Her br**sts fit perfectly in his cupped hands with exactly enough gentle weight to be supported nicely against his palms. He imagined himself as a human underwire. And as much as he loved the sensation of rolling her nipple against the roof of his mouth, she seemed to love it even more. And when he tugged softly with his teeth, she shivered.

Her shiver made the dress rustle against the denim of his jeans, denim that was under a strain at the moment. The situation below his waistband was fast becoming critical. A man with more finesse, the kind of man who dressed in suits and dined at Jean George’s, would suggest moving to the bedroom.

But Eve hadn’t liked a man with that approach. Maybe she was the kind of girl who liked it in a dim hallway up against the wall. Charlie hoped so, because he suspected that was how she was going to get it.

Vaguely he remembered there was something special about this dress besides the shimmery, stretchy fabric. Then the special part flashed across his brain like a streaking comet. As she’d walked toward him, each step had given him a breathtaking view of one long leg. The dress had a slit up the side, a deliciously long slit, long enough to send his imagination into very erotic territory.

Kissing his way back to her mouth, he slid one hand down her hip.

She put an inch between her lips and his. "Looking for something?" she murmured.

"A way in." He barely recognized his own voice. The rough urgency was unfamiliar, but so was this desperation. He’d never known such driving sexual hunger.

Her quick, shallow breaths tickled his mouth. "Keep going."

At mid-thigh the material gave way and he slid his hand through the opening to touch her warm skin. The tactile pleasure of that brought a growl of delight from his throat. He pushed on, expecting to find the kind of silk and lace he’d seen draped over her kitchen chairs Monday night.

Instead he discovered nothing but… Eve. He drew in a sharp breath. "Surprised?"

He gulped. "Grateful." Smoothing his hand over her taut bottom, the blood pounding in his ears, he slipped his fingers between her thighs. There he found the wet welcome guaranteed to drive a man around the bend. His brain short-circuited and he was left with nothing but raw need.

He lost track of the sequence of events after that. He remembered kissing her hard and using his tongue to let her know what was ahead. She must have unzipped his jeans and shoved down his briefs, because he didn’t think he’d done any of that. Somehow he located the condom packet, ripped it open and rolled the latex over his quivering penis.

When he picked her up, her skirt magically drifted to one side, or maybe she pulled it over to give rum access. The details blurred, except for that defining moment when she held on to his shoulders and wrapped her feet around his h*ps and he pushed deep inside her. That sensation burst upon him with such clarity that he expected to remember it when he was a hundred and two.

One of her stiletto heels poked him in the small of the back, but he didn’t care. Nothing mattered but the rhythm of his thrusting and the glow in her eyes. Her lips parted as she gasped for breath and her delicate nostrils flared.

Every time he pumped, her dress rustled and her long earrings swung, brushing her shoulders. Although he shouldn’t know anything about her responses, had never mapped the quickest route to her pleasure, magically he seemed to know everything. He played to the excitement building in her eyes, gauged the pattern of her breathing and moved in tone with her.

Maybe this was how making love was supposed to be. Instinctive. Easy. Filled with wonder. And so good. So very, very good. He felt her tighten around him and joy surged in his heart that he would be able to give her this.

She said his name once, the two syllables trembling and vivid with emotion. And then she came, her back arching, her shoulders pressed against the wall, her thighs quaking as the spasms massaged his penis. He managed a few precious seconds more, giving her a chance to revel in the sensation.

Then he couldn’t hold back anymore. With a groan of release he locked his h*ps against hers, closed his eyes and abandoned himself to the most powerful cli**x of his life. The force of it left him barely able to stand.

Afraid he might collapse and damage all sorts of valuable parts, both his and hers, he leaned his head against her shoulder and fought to stay upright. He’d give this position a ten for sexual excitement, but a one for ease of recovery. He was the structural support for this operation, and the structure was definitely compromised by the orgasm of a lifetime.

Then there was the problem of his jeans. Sometime during the action they’d fallen with a clank of the belt buckle down around his ankles. His briefs hung by the elastic around his knees. And he was still wearing a condom.

Maybe this was why he’d never done it up against the wall before. The after-party could turn awkward. Nobody ever showed that part in the movies. He could use a good fade-out right now.

She stroked her fingers through his hair as her breathing slowed. "Incredible."

"Mm. Amazing." He hoped he wouldn’t ruin the moment by falling down and getting hopelessly tangled in his clothes.

She moved her lips close to his ear. "You can let me go, now."

Gradually he became aware that he was gripping her bottom as if she were the handlebars of his Harley. Instantly he relaxed his fingers and hoped to God he hadn’t bruised her.

Still feeling pretty damned vulnerable and shaky, he found the strength to lift his head and look into her eyes. "If I left marks, I’ll never forgive myself."

She smiled at him, and her expression was all warm and misty. "If you left marks, I’ll cherish each and every one. But now we have to figure out how to untangle ourselves, don’t we?"

We. She was willing to take equal responsibility for making this turn out okay. He didn’t get that a lot. As an only child, the smartest person in his graduating class, and the go-to guy at the power company, he felt mostly like the Lone Ranger. Everyone usually looked to him for the answers.

"Got any ideas?" he asked, thoroughly enjoying the idea of handing the problem to her to solve.

She gazed at him, and the corners of her mouth twitched as if she wanted to keep from laughing. "First we have to gracefully do the disconnect thing."

He could see how laughing might be a problem at a time like this. "I don’t think there’s a really graceful way to do that. I mean, sex is fantastic while you’re doing it, but afterward, especially when you’re vertical, there are … issues."

"That’s why we’ll both keep gazing fixedly into each other’s eyes. Whatever you do, don’t look down."

"You mean like those Olympic figure skating pairs, who do all sorts of complicated things with their lower body while staring straight at their partner’s face?"

"Exactly." Her eyes sparkled and she caught her lower lip between her teeth. Then she cleared her throat. "We’ll be just like those skaters."

"Are you going to talk us through it?"

"Sure. Just don’t make me laugh."

"I should warn you. I’m one of those people who can be funny without meaning to."

Her expression softened. "I know. I like that about you."

"You like that I’m clueless?"

"Whoops, now you’re making me laugh." Her body quivered against his.

"See what I mean? I don’t even have to try." Despite the jeopardy that put them in, he enjoyed the sensation of being tucked inside her while she laughed.

"All right." She swallowed a giggle. "I’m calm again. Just look into my eyes. I’m going to loosen my hold on your hips. When I do that, you should ease back a little."

"So we’ll make this a gradual unhitching."

"Unhitching." She grinned. "You do have a way with words. Now, here we go. I’m loosening."

"And I’m easing."

"Loosening."

"Easing." He felt her balance shift and started to lower his head to check out the situation.

"Don’t look down, don’t look down! I’m maintaining just fine."

"Okay." He locked in on her gaze again. "One foot on the floor."

The moment came when he lost that magic connection, and he moaned softly.

She paused in midmotion. "Problems?"

"No." With his gaze fastened on hers, he couldn’t hide his emotions. "It’s just that I miss you already."

Her eyes shone. "I miss you, too. But the night’s not over, Charlie."

"You’re right." Yet he wasn’t thinking about tonight. He knew she’d want him to stay until morning. He was thinking about the day he’d take the road out of Middlesex. He had to go. If he didn’t, he’d always wonder how it would have been. But she’d just made leaving ten times tougher.

"Two feet on the floor. You can move your hands, now."

He didn’t want to, but they couldn’t complete the maneuver unless he let go of her silky derriere. Reluctantly he pulled both hands from underneath her skirt. "Now what?"

"Give me a minute. Keep looking into my eyes."

He did, but he could tell from the rustling around that she’d pulled her dress up. Then a zipper rasped.

"Now I’ll turn and walk down to my bedroom," she said. "You can follow when you’re ready."

"I’m impressed." Then he had an unwelcome thought. "You’ve done this before."

"No, never."

"But you choreographed it so perfectly."

She smiled. "It’s like building a hovercraft. You might not know what you’re doing in the beginning, but if you take it one step at a time, you’ll get where you want to go."

"Guess so." For a guy who had always relied on directions and diagrams, it was a stunning concept. "Listen, do you want me to give you a certain number of minutes to yourself?"

"Not necessary. All I need to do is take off this dress and climb into bed."

Whoa. His blood heated at the implied promise, that he was welcome to climb in there with her. "Okay." The casual response had nothing to do with the fire racing straight to his groin.

"See you soon." Turning, she used her runway walk as she moved toward the end of the short hallway.

He, of course, stood watching her go because he was mesmerized by the sway of her hips, those same h*ps that had recently cradled him so beautifully. It wasn’t until she was about to turn that he realized she could easily glance back and take in exactly the ungainly sight he’d been hoping to avoid having her see.