Talk Nerdy to Me (29 page)

The
second thing he remembered were the two condoms still in the pocket of his
jeans. He'd carried them all the way to the bakery and back. And he'd be
needing at least one of them shortly.

So
it was decided. He'd go in there wearing his jeans and his briefs. He'd carry
the chaps. Somehow, in the course of events, he'd get rid of the jeans and
briefs and put on the chaps. Or maybe she'd help. There was an encouraging
thought.

Taking
a deep breath, he picked up his chaps and started toward her bedroom. He hoped
he hadn't taken so long to get down there that she'd given up on him and fallen
asleep.

Eve
had made a bet with herself as to whether Charlie would follow through with the
chaps. She'd kept to her part of the bargain. She was lying naked in her round
bed under her custom-made, fluffy round comforter.

Before
coming in here she'd darted into the bathroom and snagged a couple more
condoms, in case Charlie had left his jeans in the kitchen. She didn't think
he'd forget that item, but it didn't hurt to have backup. Then she'd stripped
down and crawled under her comforter.

And
waited. Talk about torture. Now that she knew how expertly Charlie used his
equipment, she wanted more of that, the sooner the better. Maybe she shouldn't
have mentioned the chaps fantasy. Charlie might be struggling with that part
of the plan.

Well,
of course he was. In order for him to walk in here wearing only his chaps, he'd
need a personality transplant.

She
should know. The only way she managed that long walk down the runway during
fashion shows was to leave her glasses behind. The audience became an
indistinct backdrop that she could ignore.

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, naked 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 oral sex. 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 lipstick 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 naked 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 climax. 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."