Talk Nerdy to Me (Nerds, #5)(24)
Author: Vicki Lewis Thompson

Once Charlie got into this, he wouldn’t be wearing his glasses. That might help. What she had in mind was mostly about sensation, anyway. Mostly. She had her glasses on, in case he really did walk in dressed in only the black leather chaps. A girl couldn’t be expected to let that pass in a blur of nearsightedness.

She watched the doorway with such intensity that she must have fallen into a semi-trance. When Charlie actually appeared, she blinked to make sure she hadn’t imagined him there. But no, he was standing in her bedroom doorway, nak*d from the waist up and the ankles down.

He wasn’t wearing the chaps, but he was holding them in one hand. Seeing them made her shiver in anticipation. She was also gratified to discover that Charlie had nice pecs, for an engineer. Correction. He had nice pecs, period.

And after spending most of her adult life looking at men who shaved their chests for the camera, she enjoyed seeing a growth of healthy hair. It added interest to the scenery, plus there was that fascinating line of hair that blazed a trail down under the waistband of his jeans. The top button was undone, and she wondered what that was all about. Maybe that was where he’d lost his nerve.

All in all, he’d done well, though. He was gazing at her with obvious hunger, and a telltale bulge behind his fly told her he was interested in what lay under the fluffy quilt. But he looked nervous, too.

"I’m glad to see you," she said. Her voice quivered a little. That’s when she acknowledged that she was nervous, too. Their first encounter had been spectacular. What if that had been a fluke? She might not have Charlie for very long, but she wanted the short time they would share to be memorable.

"Eve, I don’t…" He looked at the chaps in his hand. "I don’t know what to do next. I’m good at fixing things, but I’m not good at… sexy stuff."

She thought he could be very good, sinfully good, if she could loosen him up a little. But he couldn’t do much of anything while he was clutching those chaps like a lifeline. "You could put those on my dressing table."

He glanced doubtfully at the table that held her makeup supplies, a hairbrush, styling gel, and a blow dryer.

"It’s fine. Right on top of that stuff."

He laid them carefully on the table, creating one of those contrasts she liked so much—girly paraphernalia and black leather motorcycle chaps. Contrasts turned her on. She didn’t need the added stimulation with Charlie in the building, but she wasn’t objecting to a few extra thrills.

And now she was going to lower his anxiety level. She knew from experience how this could take the edge off. "You can leave your glasses on the table too if you want. So you can find them later."

He nodded, took off his glasses, and put them on the corner of the table.

"So, Charlie …" She moistened her dry lips. "How about taking off the rest of your clothes?" She hadn’t gotten a good view of his package earlier tonight. She’d only felt the glory of what it could do.

He reached for the zipper on his jeans. "You know that book you had on drawing nudes?"

"Yes." She was impressed that he’d remembered that, with all the clutter he’d found on top of her washing machine. But he probably remembered everything.

"Did you ever have a live model?" he asked.

"No." She couldn’t believe Charlie was offering to do that, but stranger things had happened. "I didn’t take a class. I just bought the book. Why? Do you want to pose for me?"

"God, no!" He stepped out of his jeans. "I’d rather rewire the Eiffel Tower!"

And speaking of phallic symbols … her breath caught at the sizable tent and flagpole effect he had going on. The rest of him was damned good to look at, too. She supposed he didn’t think much about his body because he lived in his mind, but he’d been gifted with a statue-worthy build. A different kind of man would have capitalized on that gift and spent hours in a gym to enhance that physique.

But Charlie wasn’t that kind of man. Eve guessed that he took his body for granted and if he thought about it at all, he was simply grateful that all systems worked okay. As an engineer, he might admire the delicate wiring and connectors, but she couldn’t imagine him standing in front of a mirror for any length of time.

As for her, she could look at him forever. The briefs were the only thing standing between her and an excellent view. If she ever wanted to draw a nude male, she couldn’t do any better than Charlie.

"One last thing," she murmured.

He took off the briefs.

Oh, yes. He was proudly, classically erect. Sights like this were what guaranteed the continuation of the species. Eve was ready to propagate, be fruitful and multiply, celebrate the glorious difference in the genders.

For a little while she allowed herself to hate the builders of Hoover Dam. Mentally Charlie was perfect for her, and now she’d discovered that he was sexual eye candy, besides. What a joke on her. She’d found exactly what she’d been looking for, and he could hardly wait to move on to those giant turbines.

But he wouldn’t be leaving tonight. And he’d brought his chaps. She had a feeling that she’d have to coax him into those, but she accepted the challenge. Victory would be well worth it.

She eased back the comforter. "Would you … bring the chaps over here, please?"

He squinted slightly, obviously eager to see her better. "You’re even gorgeous out of focus." He turned back to the dressing table. "Maybe I should get my glasses."

"You’ll have more fun without them."

He paused. "What do you mean?"

"Well, for one thing, they’ll get in the way during . . . certain things." She was thinking specifically of or*l s*x. She hoped he was thinking of it, too. But first she really wanted her chaps experience.

"Um, you’re—" He coughed. "You’re right."

She would bet he’d gotten her message. "Here. I’ll take mine off, too. Now, all that’s left is for you to bring over the chaps." She was sure, once she eased him over the embarrassment hurdle, he’d get into it.

He started to pick them up. Then he stopped and turned to her. "It feels kind of silly, Eve. I’ve never had them on when I wasn’t wearing anything, and definitely not when I’m …"

"Aroused?"

"Yeah."

She tried to put herself in his place. She’d been desensitized to the limelight fairly early, but her shyness had never gone away totally. Taking off her glasses before a fashion show helped, but even then she got butterflies. That was when she’d start estimating the wattage of the footlights and calculating the square footage of the runway.

"Arousal is so amazing," she said. "Your brain sends a signal, and blood flow increases to the exact area needed for participation. The increased blood flow creates a solid rod, which allows for maximum penetration of the intended sleeve. Don’t you find that fascinating?"

"Mm." His breathing grew ragged.

"It’s an engineering marvel, Charlie. Take my system, for example. Think of all those neurons firing, which prompts the release of lubrication and readies the sleeve to accept the insertion of the rod."

He made a sound low in his throat.

"You’re programmed to initiate a piston like action, which increases lubrication in the complementary components. That, in turn, allows for faster motion and greater friction."

With a soft groan, he started toward the bed.

"Bring the chaps," she murmured.

He snatched them from the dressing table, sending lip-stick tubes flying. While he buckled on the chaps, she ripped open a condom packet. But before she handed him the condom, she took one good look at Charlie nak*d except for his chaps. She almost came right then.

He wasted no time putting on the condom and climbing between her open thighs.

Up close she could see the fire burning in his gaze. When he thrust deep, bringing the soft leather in contact with her inner thighs, she arched upward as the first spasm gripped her. Oh, this was going to be good.

"I love it when you talk like that." He pulled back and shoved home again.

Once again the leather caressed her skin and the cool buckle pressed against her tummy. The subtle kinkiness was all it took to kick-start her cli**x. As it roared to life, Charlie began pumping fast, rocketing her down the pleasure highway while that wonderful leather slapped against her thighs. She’d never yelled so loud in her life.

Charlie laughed, one of those exultant sounds that only comes with triumph. Then his laughter turned to a wild groan of release. Eve held him tight as he trembled in her arms. Slowly she began to smile. Victory.

As she basked in the glow of satisfaction, both sexual and mental, she thought she heard a noise coming from another part of the house. It sounded like a soft click, as if a door had been closed. But then again, Charlie was still breathing pretty hard. It could have been one of those little clicks a person’s throat makes when the epiglottis quickly snaps shut. Yeah, that was probably it.

Chapter Seventeen

The last thing Charlie wanted to hear right now was a suspicious sound. But damn it, he heard one anyway. Lying there in the kind of euphoric state he’d thought could only be achieved through heavy drugs, not that he knew from personal experience, he didn’t want to move for a long, long time, maybe not ever. Round beds were awesome.

He tried to talk himself out of going to investigate. Maybe the sound hadn’t been of a door closing. Maybe it had been the oil heater turning on. Or shutting off. Except there hadn’t been the sound of a fan either before the sound or after the sound.

Charlie was pretty good with sounds. Changes in sound were the best way to troubleshoot any machine, if you had the ear for it. That soft click hadn’t been some automatic relay, which left him with the conclusion that it had been a door closing. If he had to guess, and he was lying there doing exactly that, he’d say it had been the front door.

Finally he couldn’t put off the moment. God, how he hated to move. He turned his head so his mouth was close to her ear. "Eve."

She stroked his butt and snuggled against him. "You were incredible, Charlie." She sighed happily. "And the chaps were incredible. Thank you."

"I think I heard something." Plastered against her the way he was, he could feel her lazy contentment disappear, to be replaced by the tight muscles of anxiety. Damn it to hell. "I could be wrong, though."

"I heard something, too."

That pretty much clinched it. One person could have imagined the noise. Two people—not so likely. "Was it like the front door closing?"

"Yes. Very quietly."

"Did you hear it open?" He hadn’t, but maybe he’d missed that sound.

"No. I only heard it close. Maybe I was wrong, though. Maybe it was only the house settling."

"Maybe." But he didn’t think so. And as the implication dawned on him, every individual hair on his body stood upright. If they’d interpreted the sound correctly, then whoever had been in the house was no longer there. But chances were they had been there, probably listening, maybe even watching, while he and Eve had been hav**g s*x.

"Charlie, what if they were here the whole time we were—"

"Let’s hope not." He disentangled himself from her warmth. "I’ll go investigate." "I’ll go with you."

"No. Stay here." Standing with his back to her, he reached for the tissue box on her nightstand and dispensed with the condom.

"I don’t want to stay here." The sheets rustled as if she might be getting out of bed.

"No, seriously," he said over his shoulder as he unbuckled his chaps. "Lock the bedroom door after I go out, just in case. That’s what the cops say to do. Lock whatever door you can and call 911." He climbed out of his chaps, all the while watching the door and wishing he had better vision. He didn’t want to face an intruder, but he especially didn’t want to face one while he was nak*d and couldn’t see worth a damn.

"I’m not calling the police until we know whether we actually heard something or just imagined it. We both might be spooked by the earlier break-in. And for the record, you have a great butt."

"Thanks." Grabbing his briefs off the floor, he turned to find her getting dressed on the far side of the bed. Even though she was blurry, he could tell she’d already put on her glasses.

"I’m not just saying that to take my mind off this potential home invasion."

"You’re not?" He quickly put on his briefs and grabbed his jeans as he went over to her dressing table to retrieve his glasses. Once he could see clearly again, he shoved his legs into his jeans.

"Well, maybe partly. But that doesn’t mean it’s not true." She came around the bed wearing her sweater and jeans. "You have excellent buns, and I’d much rather think about them than some jerk who might have been standing in the bedroom doorway while we played mattress bingo."

"I understand completely." He buttoned and zipped his jeans. At that point, he’d put on all the clothes available to him. The rest were in the kitchen. "And for the record, you have outstanding tits, and I’m not just saying that, either."

"Thanks."

"You’re welcome." He’d much rather think about her tits than the other subject crowding into his mind. Whenever he allowed himself to consider the possibility of someone hiding in the house while he’d gone through his undressing routine in the kitchen and Eve had waited alone and nak*d in the bedroom, he got the shakes.

He was reasonably sure that had been the scenario. He didn’t really think someone was still in the house. They’d left five minutes ago through the front door.

What if his repair on the back door hadn’t held up? If he’d had any sense whatsoever, he would have checked that door the minute he and Eve had come home from the bakery. Had he done that? No, he hadn’t. He’d been too busy thinking about getting nak*d with Eve.

He glanced at her. "At least let me go first."

"Okay." She looked scared.

"If someone was out there, I don’t think they’re around anymore."

"Right." She nodded and tried to muster a smile, but it looked fake and her pupils were still dilated.

He couldn’t blame her. It wasn’t only the thought that someone had been in the house. It was also the thought that they’d stayed for the show in the bedroom.