Nerd Gone Wild

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  He stroked her thigh. “That’s nice to hear.”

  “For you it might be nice.” She gave in to her impulse and ran her finger along the length of his penis. It twitched in response. “For me it’s a problem. I’m supposed to be spending all my spare time with Tanya, not whisking up to my bedroom to have sex with you.” She stroked him again, and noticed a definite change in composition. She had a new toy.

  He cleared his throat. “Are you saying that sex with me outranks taking pictures of those partridge things?”

  “Ptarmigan. I’m afraid so. I’ve never had an orgasm while snapping a photo.” She circled his penis with her fingers and squeezed gently. It began to swell in her hand. It was an interesting sensation, having a cold bottle of beer in one hand and a warm penis in the other.

  “You should have told me you wanted to take pictures.”

  She glanced at him, lying there looking like a Greek statue come to life. Except Greek statues never had an erection and she was giving him a dandy one. “You’d look beautiful on film.”

  “Um, I was kidding. If you hauled out your camera you’d have to have very fast film to catch me. I’d be out the door before your finger found the shutter.”

  “Don’t worry.” She caressed the head of his penis and watched a drop of moisture gather there. “I would never do that.”

  “No? Why not?”

  She glanced into his eyes as she continued to play with his package. “It would destroy the sense of intimacy.”

  “What you’re doing right now is pretty darned intimate.”

  “It’s about to get even more intimate.” Scooting down, she turned over onto her stomach so she had the angle she wanted. Then she kissed that warm, velvety tip.

  He groaned. “Warning. Contents under pressure.”

  “I know. Fire at will.” She began to lick him.

  His breathing changed quickly. “I mean it. Having you do that in the dark is one thing. Watching you do it is…” He sucked in air through his teeth. “Ally… hold up a minute. Let me get back in… control.”

  “It’s a losing battle.” But she eased away from him and realized she was still clutching her beer in her other hand. She could ask him to hold it, or she could experiment.

  Taking a mouthful of beer, she swished it around, making the foam tickle her tongue. Because she wasn’t a guy, she had no idea how he’d like it, but she’d transformed into a bold chick tonight. Bold chicks took action and asked questions later.

  She swallowed the beer and glanced at him. “Ready?”

  “For what?” He was still breathing fast.

  “Fun with beer.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  She grinned. “Neither do I, but I want to try something.”

  “Is this like a party trick?”

  “Maybe a private party trick. Here goes.” She took another sip of beer and held it in her mouth. Then she pressed her mouth against the tip of his penis and tried to take him in without losing all the beer. Some dribbled out, but most of it stayed.

  Mitch gasped. “Oh… man. That tickles. Ally, tickling might mean that I’ll lose… I hope you know what you’re… doing.”

  She didn’t, exactly, but she had hopes for the outcome. She puffed out her cheeks and got that foam swirling.

  “Omigod… Ally, that’s… amaz—” With a moan wrenched from deep in his chest, he came.

  Mission accomplished.

  * * *

  Mitch would never look at a bottle of beer the same way again. He’d never be able to play poker without thinking of this night, either. So there were two things in his life forever linked to sex with Ally. Oh, and matchsticks. Matchsticks would now remind him of the poker game, which had turned into a strip poker game, which had led to incredible sex, which eventually had ended up giving him adventures with beer.

  “That was fun.” Ally wiggled up next to him still holding her beer.

  He couldn’t imagine why he hadn’t dumped his own bottle all over the bed. Fortunately he’d kept it in a death grip all during the climax and hadn’t spilled a drop. “That was more than plain old fun for me,” he said. “I’d say from my perspective that falls into the category of extreme fun.”

  She tapped her beer bottle against his. “Here’s to extreme fun.”

  “Right.” He was beginning to realize that he might have miscalculated. Yes, having sex with Ally was a good way to keep track of her. And yes, by doing that he was shutting out the unacceptable types hanging around hoping for some attention.

  But it was supposed to be a stopgap measure, and at the moment there was nothing stopgap about it. He had the urge to employ this strategy for quite a while. Like for the next fifty years.

  He’d really underestimated how great sex with Ally would be, or how great Ally would be, aside from the sex. He really liked her. Come to think of it, he’d been underestimating all kinds of things lately, starting with the difficulty of the job Madeline had hired him for.

  One thing he hadn’t underestimated, or at least he hoped not, was Kurt Jarrett’s desire to get his hands on Ally’s money. The guy was fairly transparent to Mitch. Ally wasn’t willing to see that, yet, but she was a smart woman. Mitch had to stay around long enough for her to wise up. Then he could leave.

  Yeah, leave. If the concept didn’t thrill him, too bad. He’d known from the beginning that would be the story. If he happened to be falling for the woman lying beside him in this creaky bed in Porcupine, Alaska, that was the breaks. He’d get over it. Maybe.

  “Mitch, I need to ask you something.”

  He took a swig of his beer and hoped it was a question he could answer. “If you want to know if I lost some of those hands on purpose, the answer is yes.”

  “That’s okay. So did I.”

  He glanced over at her. “All of them?”

  “No, just the one where I had to take off my sweatshirt.”

  That bit of information gladdened his heart. “So what happened after that wasn’t a complete surprise to you.”

  “No. I was wondering if you’d crack.” Her smile had definite overtones of smugness.

  He didn’t care. She deserved to feel smug. “I cracked. I cracked right down the middle. And it was the shuffling that did it.”

  She laughed. “The shuffling? I thought it was my boobs.”

  “It was. The shuffling made your boobs dance. If you shuffled like I do, none of this would have happened.”

  “None of it?” She looked skeptical.

  “Okay, it would have happened, but later. That shuffle of yours put me over the top.”

  “I’m glad.”

  He met her gaze. “Me, too.” And he was glad, no matter what.

  “What did Grammy tell you about Uncle Kurt?”

  Wham. After a bunch of easy pitches, she hit him with the fast ball. He considered how much he should say.

  “Please tell me. Grammy would never talk about him. Uncle Kurt says she hated him because he was living proof that Grandpa Clayton was married before, and she didn’t want to think about that. If that’s true, it’s so unfair, because Grammy was married before, too, and she had my dad when they met. Both she and Grandpa were in the same boat, with kids from a first marriage.”

  No matter what, he had to make sure he didn’t come across as interrogating her. But he had some questions of his own. “So you’ve been in touch with your uncle Kurt?”

  She nodded. “He came down to see me when I was in college. I’d always been curious about him, so I was glad when he showed up. I mean, we may not be directly related, but he’s still family.”

  Mitch had the urge to shake Kurt until his balls rattled. Ally needed an uncle who was a decent human being. Instead she got Kurt. But he wished Madeline had found it within herself to tell Ally the truth about him.

  “I knew Grammy would have had a fit if she’d known I was communicating with him, so we e-mailed through my roommate’s e-mail address. We used forwarded jokes, with
short messages at the bottom. We even devised a loose code, in case anyone should ever read the e-mails.”

  He had read some of the e-mails, and he’d fallen for the whole scheme. Some PI he was. After reading a few, he’d dismissed them as being exactly what they seemed to be. So Kurt had been wooing Ally for a long time. And she was desperate for a sense of family. Once again, Mitch had underestimated the difficulty of the situation.

  “So I need to know what Grammy said to you about him. I can tell you don’t like him, so I want to know why.”

  He sure didn’t want to be the one to deliver this information. He took a deep breath. “You won’t like it.”

  “I don’t expect to like it.”

  “According to your grandmother, she tried to make one happy blended family out of the situation. Your dad was ten and Kurt was eighteen when she married Clayton, so there was a fairly large age difference, but she hoped they’d be friends. Kurt was invited to spend the summer at the mansion.”

  “And?” Her gaze was totally focused on him.

  He put down his beer and cupped her face in both hands. “Ally, I wish your grandmother had talked to you about this. Long ago. But she was a very modest woman, and I’m sure she couldn’t bring herself to say it.”

  Apprehension flashed in her eyes. “Say what?”

  “Kurt sexually assaulted her.”

  “No!” She pulled away from him.

  He’d guessed it might happen. Kill the messenger.

  “I don’t believe it!” Ally scrambled out of bed, her beer bottle still clutched in her hand. “She must have misunderstood. Misinterpreted something.”

  “I don’t think so. He would have raped her, except a maid heard her screaming and ran to the rescue. Kurt nearly knocked the maid over as he barreled out the door. He hitched a ride back to his mother’s house.”

  Ally continued to shake her head. “It’s impossible. He wouldn’t do something like that.”

  “When the maid showed up, he had your grandmother down on the floor. Her clothes were ripped.” He hated the look of betrayal in Ally’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I know it’s tough to hear, but it’s true. I checked the story. The maid’s name is Suzanne.”

  “Suzanne.” Ally swallowed. “She still works there. I’ve known her all my life.”

  “Your grandmother made her promise never to say a word to anyone. She was petrified to talk to me, but finally she did. She’s been carrying that image around for more than forty years.”

  “So nobody knew? Not my dad, or Grandpa Clayton?”

  “Your grandmother was humiliated. You have to remember her personality, and the fact that in those days, women were often blamed when something like that happened. Kurt had picked his time well, when her son was off taking tennis lessons and your grandpa was doing business down in L.A.”

  “I don’t get how she could have banned him from the house without Grandpa being told why.” Ally put down her beer on the dresser.

  “She told your grandfather that Kurt had threatened her and she didn’t feel safe in the house with him. From what I can gather, Clayton doted on your grandmother. He almost disowned Kurt, but she convinced him to continue paying him his trust fund allowance.”

  “Uncle Kurt told me he wasn’t allowed at Grandpa’s funeral. I thought he hadn’t bothered to come, but he said Grammy forbid him to show up.”

  Mitch nodded. “Not her, personally, but her lawyers warned Kurt that if he wanted to continue getting his monthly allowance, he’d be wise to stay away from Clayton’s funeral, so he did.”

  She picked up her sweatpants from the floor and pulled them on.

  He thought that was a bad sign. When she put on her sweatshirt, he knew the party was over.

  She faced him. “You’re not here because you have a crush on me, are you?”

  “No.” But he had one now. And watching her shut down after what they’d shared was killing him.

  “And it’s not paperwork to do with the estate, either, is it?”

  “No.”

  “You’re here because of Kurt, aren’t you?”

  “Mostly, yes.”

  “He’s not going to try and rape me or anything, Mitch. I can guarantee it.”

  “That’s not my big concern, either. I think he wanted revenge against your grandmother for what he perceived was her part in ruining his life. That’s how an eighteen-year-old hothead might react. But he may feel he deserves some of your inheritance. Your grandmother told me to stay close.”

  “I see.” She gazed at him. “So was that the reason for all this?” She swept her hand over the scene, from the cards on the floor to Mitch on the bed.

  “What do you mean?” He decided to be deliberately obtuse, because in a way she was right. It was technically part of the reason. Not a big part, but it had contributed to his decision. He didn’t think that would play well.

  “I’m wondering if you thought having sex with me would make your job easier, that’s all. You know, bond with me so I’d want to hang around you more, stuff like that.”

  “Ally, that wasn’t it. I told you, I’ve wanted you from the start. I stopped fighting it, that’s all.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Damned convenient time to stop fighting it, I’d say. And to think I was afraid to get sexually involved for fear I might hurt your feelings when it was over. You’re simply doing what Grammy hired you to do, and sex is turning out to be one of the perks!”

  “It wasn’t a perk!”

  She braced her hands on her hips. “Oh, so you forced yourself to go through with it? You gave a real convincing performance for a guy who wasn’t enjoying himself!”

  “That’s not what I meant.” He should probably quit before he ended up any further in the hole. “I meant that I’d never intended for this to happen. Then this morning I kissed you, and you kissed me back, and—”

  “My mistake. I thought you were this sweet and dopey guy with a crush. I thought that was cute. I was touched that you’d fly all the way up here.” Her expression softened. “And… and you’re a good kisser. Dammit.”

  “Sorry about that.”

  “You should be sorry! You’re supposed to be a nerdy guy who’s great at details and paperwork. You’re not supposed to have a body like that.” She blew out a breath and glanced away.

  Maybe all was not lost. She still wanted him, or she wouldn’t have made those last comments about his body and his kissing ability. She was upset and taking it out on him. He could understand that.

  “What do you want to do, Ally?”

  “I don’t know.” Hands still on her hips, she stared up at the ceiling. “I mean, I had this great plan to come up to Alaska and learn wildlife photography. Uncle Kurt promised to help. Now you’ve told me something about him that’s very disturbing.”

  “You asked.”

  “I know! And I don’t want to believe you, but at dinner he was trying to talk me into shortcuts that don’t feel right, so maybe he isn’t so wonderful. And he brought Tanya Mandell, which sounds perfect on the surface, but she’s turning out to be a sex maniac. Then you and I have some fun, and I discover it’s only part of your job.”

  “No, not part of my job. I couldn’t resist you.”

  She sniffed and swiped a hand over her eyes. “And I couldn’t seem to resist you, either. That’s the hell of it.”

  “Oh, Ally.” He was off the bed and pulling her into his arms before he could consider whether she might deck him for trying it.

  She struggled a little, but eventually she collapsed against him and buried her face against his shoulder. “I don’t want you to comfort me!” she wailed, even as she wrapped her arms around him and held on tight.

  “I know, but I’m handy.” He rubbed her back and stroked her hair while she cried. He remembered wanting to do this a couple of times before—at the funeral, and again when he’d come upon her weeping while sitting in her grandmother’s bedroom a week later. But they hadn’t had that kind of relationship then, so he’d he
ld himself in check.

  Finally she stopped crying and lifted her head from his shoulder. “This is no good.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re naked. I can’t have a decent cry against a naked man’s shoulder. There’s nothing to soak up the tears. You’re getting all slippery.” She stepped back, picked up the hem of her sweatshirt and pulled it up to mop her face. She flashed him in the process.

  He wondered if she knew. He decided to test the waters. “Come back to bed,” he murmured.

  With the bottom of her sweatshirt still pulled up to show her breasts, she peered at him. “You’re just saying that because you got another look at my boobs, and that makes you crazy.”

  “True.”

  She sighed and pulled off her sweatshirt. “Who am I kidding? I could get all indignant and send you back to your own room, but I’d only be cutting off my nose to spite my face.”

  He wished she sounded a little happier about wanting him.

  She tossed the sweatshirt at him. “Better wipe off your shoulder.” Then she shoved her sweatpants down over her hips and stepped out of them.

  She was obviously still mad, and she hadn’t performed the most graceful striptease he’d ever seen, but his penis didn’t seem to care. It reacted as if she’d put on one helluva show.

  She zeroed right in on that reaction, giving him a saucy once-over. “So in addition to handling Grammy’s estate, you’re supposed to keep me safe and happy. Is that what you’re saying?”

  He figured that was a fair evaluation. “I guess you could put it that way.”

  She walked over to the bed and hopped in. “Then come on over here, Mitch. Time to earn your keep.”

  Yeah, she was furious, both with him and maybe with herself for still being susceptible. But he’d take her any way he could get her.

  “I guess I could get all indignant and refuse,” he said, crossing to the bed. She was so angry and yet so beautiful, lying stretched out on the sheets, her nipples hard and her body rosy and ready for him. “But that would be cutting off my nose to spite my face.” He climbed into bed with her. It was a tough job, but somebody had to do it.