Indecent Experiment (2 page)

“I’ll do it.”

Hair: blond. Eyes: blue. Bra size? Matt paused at that one. Did he want to be honest and admit he was a total dick, say 34 DD? Or did he want to pretend something like that didn’t matter. Hell. He scribbled 34 D, dropping the extra D just to keep himself from being a complete douche bag. Height, weight, hobbies. This was a lot like those two geeks in Weird Science, pulling pictures from magazines and creating the perfect woman, but why not, right? If they were asking him what he wanted, he might as well ask for it all.

“How important is a sense of humor?” He thought about that one, tapping his pen against his lips. Randy and Ada had left him alone to fill out the paperwork, but he wasn’t convinced there wasn’t some sort of monitoring going on. He might not know a lot about how psych department experiments worked, but he was going to assume he was being recorded until proved otherwise. “Very important.”

The next question, though, made him laugh. “If you meet a woman with an excellent sense of humor and obvious intelligence, but her physical appearance isn’t up to your standards, would you ask her out anyway?”

No.
Might as well be honest for the sake of the experiment, right? Didn’t want to skew the results.

“If you end up going out with a woman, for example on a blind date, who exhibits all the traits you’re looking for in a mate, but again her physical appearance isn’t to your standards, do you have sex with her if the opportunity arises?”

Yes.
He hesitated on that one, thinking of the old “chew your arm off in the morning” jokes, but the fact was, Matt had slept with ugly chicks in the past because the desire to get laid overrode any sort of other need. Had he done it lately, even in the past few years? No. But he had, and he was going to guess he would again, if the situation were right.

It took him forty-five minutes to answer all the questions, and by the end of it, his hand had cramped. They’d explained to him already what the experiment entailed, reassuring him over and over again that he wouldn’t have to sleep with anyone if he didn’t want to. That he wasn’t being paid to have sex. That he’d have to spend five nights in a row with this random chick, chosen as his partner based on what he’d filled out. He wanted to make sure he gave them all the information necessary to hook him up with someone just right.

Less than twenty-four hours later, in the shower as he got ready for the evening out with the “bros,” Matt froze with his fingers knuckle-deep in lather on his skull. He was about to get set up on what could be the worse or best blind date, ever.

He was still thinking about it when he got to the bar where Damian had said they’d all be. And there they were, a bunch of his fraternity brothers, most of them younger and all of them horny. On their way to piss drunk, too, by the looks of them. They’d cornered a similar group of mostly pretty sorority girls in tiny tops and with lots of shiny teeth.

“Bro,” Damian greeted him solemnly. “Glad you could finally fucking make it out. All work, no play, right?”

“Yeah, right,” Matt said, and took one of the bottles of beer from the bucket on the table. “How about I buy the next bucket?”

And that’s how it started. How it ended, though, was something else. Damian had fixed his sights on this sweet little blonde with huge tits and not a lot going on between the ears. Matt had found himself a reluctant wingman, left to entertain the hottie’s plain-Jane pal.

At least she didn’t seem interested in him. They shared a couple of beers from another of the buckets and watched some lame reality show while Damian set to making out with the still-nameless chick. They were both drunk, and normally Matt wouldn’t have thought anything of it, except that it seemed pretty lame to just stick your tongue down someone else’s throat within twenty minutes of meeting them.

Then again, what had he just signed up to do?

He thought about making conversation with the woman beside him at the bar, but she might think he was trying to hit on her, which he wasn’t, so he just drank beer and ate some nachos and watched his friend feel up a stranger.

“Ten bucks says they go home together,” the woman beside him said, watching her friend rub her crotch against Damian’s. “And that’s a sucker bet.”

He grinned at her, but she was already shaking her head and putting some money on the bar. She gave him a slight smile as she passed by him, but that was it. He watched her say something to her friend, who pretty much ignored her, and then she left the bar.

Matt finished his beer and left, too. He didn’t want to be out too late. He didn’t want to be tired for his first session.

For the experiment.

Melissa had gone over the list again and again, folding and refolding the paper so many times it was now creased and faded in spots from the heat and sweat of her palms. Not a great thing, sweaty hands, particularly since the first instructions on the list were “hand holding.”

How bad could this be? she thought as she checked herself in the bathroom mirror one more time before she headed out into the lab for the first meeting with her…well, whatever he was going to be. Partner. Future lover? She shuddered, not entirely in revulsion, at the thought.

There weren’t going to be any introductions from Randy or Ada. Once Melissa and the unknown guy were in the room together, the experiment was considered officially begun. There wasn’t supposed to be any additional information given to either one of them, and they weren’t supposed to meet up outside of the lab, either. If they did bump into each other, they weren’t supposed to acknowledge each other. She couldn’t imagine anything more awkward than pretending not to know somebody she’d potentially been playing tonsil hockey with the night before.

On second thought, maybe it would be more awkward to try to make small talk.

Melissa was the first one in the room, and glad of it. She had time to check it out and make herself comfortable, scope out the space and sort of claim her territory. In one corner was a large bed with a nice comforter and a few comfy-looking pillows. Nothing fancy, but certainly adequate…she shivered a little, though not with chill. Heat tickled her cheeks. Silly, really. It was just a bed.

The soft-looking overstuffed sofa was the only other furniture in the room, along with a thick, plush rug and two small end tables with lamps on them. She didn’t get the purpose of the lamps at first, what with the heavy-duty fluorescent lights providing more than ample light from overhead, but then she got it.

Mood lighting.

All at once this was scarier than she’d thought it would be. She smoothed her hair, then the hem of her blouse, the front of her skirt. She’d dressed nicely, but not too nice. Nothing too low cut or short, nothing too clingy.

Shit. This was—

The door opened and a man ducked in. She caught a glimpse of broad shoulders before he looked up at her with eyes she couldn’t have said were green or brown from this distance, only that they were not brilliant blue, the color she’d noted as her favorite. Nor did he have thick dark hair falling rakishly over his forehead. Instead, he wore his sandy hair in a short cut that emphasized his face—not an unpleasant face, but certainly nothing she’d have bookmarked on her computer to use as her desktop wallpaper. Not cover-model material.

Also, not entirely unfamiliar. It took her a few seconds to figure out where she’d seen him. Ah, the bar just last night when Gina was wriggling around with his friend. They hadn’t said more than a few words to each other, and only those for social nicety. And this was the guy they’d picked out for her?

Huh.

He looked just as surprised to see her, and the blatant way he looked her up and down made Melissa’s cheeks heat. She lifted her chin and crossed her arms. Okay, so maybe she wasn’t cover-model material, either.

“Hi, I’m Matt.” He held out his hand and she took it to shake way too firmly.

“Melissa,” she said.

They stared at each other in silence for a second. So much for her request for “a great conversationalist,” she thought. He was taller than she was, but not by the five or six inches she’d listed as an attribute that melted her butter. Matt stood maybe five foot ten or so, just an inch or two over her. So far, nothing about him seemed at all what she’d said she liked best.

“We met last night,” she offered.

Matt snapped his fingers. “Right, right. Wow. Did your friend make it home okay?”

“I don’t know,” Melissa said with a laugh. “Did yours?”

“Good point. I don’t know. So…” Matt said, and let the word hang.

“So,” Melissa repeated, then figured she ought to take charge, or else this wasn’t going to go anywhere. “You got the instructions, right?”

He nodded and the way his gaze shifted toward the bed told her a lot. So did the way he was surreptitiously checking out her chest. Melissa forced herself to stand up straight and uncross her arms. Let him get a good, long look. She wasn’t ashamed of being an A cup. She could go without a bra any time she liked.
Some
men liked that.

“Yeah. So, uh…I guess we’re here until ten, right? And we have to hold hands.”

“Tonight, yeah, we just have to hold hands.”

“Awkward,” Matt said.

To Melissa’s surprise, she laughed. Some of the tension between them broke, or maybe it just started to melt. “No kidding. But hey. A thousand bucks, right?”

He grinned. He had a nice smile. A little too crooked, and his two front teeth overlapped too much to be really cute, but overall, not too bad. He was nowhere near what she’d put down that she liked, but it could’ve been worse. He could’ve been a troglodyte.

“Yeah. Can’t beat that, huh?”

“No. I guess not. Do you want to sit?” Melissa gestured, and Matt sat.

She joined him a half a minute later, figuring there was no time to start but now. They faced each other, knees turned in but not touching. She had to scoot a little toward him in order to reach his hands, but he was already holding his out for her.

They both laughed again when they took each other’s hands. Nervous, awkward laughter. There was no way she could’ve subtly wiped her palms before she took his hands, and Melissa winced as they slip-slid against each other. Well, at least he was sweating, too. Which might be gross but meant she wasn’t alone in her anxiety. Somehow, this made it a little better.

“Wow,” Matt said after a second, and let out a shaky breath. “Phew. Who knew it would be so hard, huh?”

“It’s just holding hands. Kids do it all the time. No reason grown-ups should feel strange about it,” Melissa said, though she agreed.

“Sometimes in church they do this prayer circle thing where everyone’s supposed to join hands and send around a squeeze of peace,” Matt said.

Oh, Lord. Was he religious? Melissa wasn’t sure this was going to work out at all if she had to listen to a lecture about church. She gave him a faint smile. “Sounds like something we used to do in Girl Scouts. One person starts it while you’re all closing your eyes—”

“And it goes around the circle until it gets back to the leader!” Matt said. “Yeah!”

“Yeah.” Melissa’s smile was a little less excited than his.

Matt nodded. His fingers relaxed in hers. “Tell you the truth, I hate it.”

Melissa’s laugh came more easily and sounded more natural this time. “Do you? How come?”

He shrugged. “Holding hands with strangers? Yuck.”

“I’m a stranger,” she pointed out.

“This is different. And technically, you’re not, because we met last night.”

“It’s not, really.” They both looked down at their hands, linked loosely. “How long are we supposed to do this, anyway?”

Matt shrugged, the motion moving their linked hands. “For the whole session?”

“Four hours?” Melissa made a face. “No offense, but four hours is a long time to hold hands with someone without a break.”

“I guess it depends on who the someone is.”

He smiled and dropped a wink at her that should’ve been totally cheesy. Actually was. But Melissa discovered she didn’t really mind it.

“I guess that’s what this experiment is about, sort of.”

Matt nodded and shifted a little on the couch, which forced her to do the same. Now they both were snuggled into the overstuffed cushions. Holding both hands this way wasn’t going to work for very long.

“This feels awkward. And strained. Maybe just one hand,” she suggested. “Then we can at least get comfortable.”

“Sure, okay.” Matt nodded and looked around the room, his gaze lingering again on the bed. “Do you think they have hidden cameras or something?”

It had occurred to her, except for one thing—there’d been no release form stating that she understood the session may or may not be recorded. “I don’t think so. We didn’t have to sign a waiver or anything, and usually you do even if they don’t tell you for sure if there are cameras.”

Matt’s fingers squeezed hers, gently, though he didn’t seem to have done it on purpose. “Oh, so you do a lot of these experiments?”

“Some. They’re usually pretty interesting and easy enough to do, you know? And they pay well.” She tilted her head, studying him, trying to get a feeling for this guy. “But what about you? This is your first time, I guess?”

“Yep. I’m a psych experiment virgin. Not the other kind,” Matt added hastily, then winced.

Melissa bit back a chuckle. It would’ve been stupid to think they wouldn’t talk about sex at all, given the nature of the experiment, but it was nice to see they hadn’t paired her with a guy who though blow-job jokes were a good way to pass the time. “What made you decide to pop your cherry, so to speak?”

“I saw the notice and really just couldn’t pass up the chance to maybe make enough money to go to Cancun for Spring Break. Some buddies of mine have this great deal on a condo at an all-inclusive place.”

Envy pricked her, though she didn’t know why; she didn’t have time for a vacation. There’d be time for trips after she got her full-time position and all the benefits. It would be worth waiting for. “Well, you picked a doozy for your first one.”