Why Me?

by Treva Harte

  * * * * *

  Within minutes Wynn was in front of one of the library's public computers, tapping at the keyboard. Cassie tried not to be impressed. She could use a computer, all right, but Wynn obviously could make his computer sit up and do tricks. Just the way he sat in front of the monitor, his face looking interested and alert, told her that.

  "What are you doing?" Cassie ventured.

  "Getting the message to Art. Hope he pays attention. And I'm making sure it won't be traced to here or to me." Wynn spoke a little absently.

  "How do you do that?" Cassie couldn't help but ask.

  Wynn grunted, finished tapping the keys and then switched off. Then his attention switched back to her.

  Cassie hadn't realized how strongly Wynn could focus on a person until she had felt his attention on her with only half its strength. Now his thoughts were as powerfully intent on her as they had been on the computer a moment ago.

  "Do you really want to know?"

  "I asked, didn't I?"

  "So you did. Let me keep it simple." Wynn smiled and stood up. His message to save the free world had taken all of about ten minutes to deliver, if that. "I have a number of e-mail accounts with false names. Sometimes I use them to send messages to people. Art just got an e-mail from Horace Jones. I knew he'd be on around now so I sent him a message. Now I've deleted the account. He had best delete it on his end."

  "That sounds devious."

  "I'd like to think so. I also have a friend—well, an associate—who has helped me out considerably with information that most people would find difficult to obtain. We use one or another of my special accounts for that, too. He still owes me some favors if I should ever need to collect again. Yes, the Internet can be quite a help."

  "Sometimes you worry me, Wynn."

  "There are always ways to do things indirectly, Cassie. Da taught me that years ago."

  * * * * *

  Well, despite his fuming over waiting at the appointed time for days to receive a mysterious message—while he was in the middle of a presidential campaign, no less—this message had been worth the wait. Or was that the term he should use? Art Hornsby hit the delete key without conscious thought and it vanished out of sight. He didn't need to save the message anyway. He had it permanently saved in his brain.

  Lida was a serious threat to him? Using a cult to harm him? None of that made sense. But Wynn had given him amazing information before that proved to be true. And he was obviously afraid enough to keep away, even when Art needed his expertise more than ever. After all, he was starting to run background checks on potential vice-presidential candidates...

  "Jeffries." Art let himself relax a little.

  Sam Jeffries, his campaign manager, knew plenty. He could ask some questions of Jeffries and learn what he needed to know without Jeffries knowing why his boss was asking. And he should be asking how the background check was going. Yes. Of course he should. And, of course, Lida was a potential running mate. Asking about her would be perfectly normal. And this information required some serious double-checking.

  Art picked up the telephone.

  "Hey, Sam. Can you come over to the office? I think it's time to pick your brain about some of the people I could be on the same ticket with."

  * * * * *

  Well it wasn't the Bide-A-Wee, but it was pretty darn close. They had a hotel near the old airport near Harrisburg and every few minutes you could hear the roar of the planes overhead.

  For dinner they walked across the street to an Italian restaurant that had come straight out of the '50s, complete with red checked tablecloths and a waitress who called them both honey. The food was good, too. Well, Cassie was sure it would have been if she could actually taste anything. But her mind wasn't on linguine in tomato sauce.

  It shouldn't be romantic. Cassie knew she shouldn't be feeling turned on. The two of them had barely spoken to each other all evening. She and Wynn certainly hadn't said anything about their interrupted encounter. But she could feel him thinking about it. He didn't try to conceal his thoughts. So she didn't, either.

  This was worse than playing footsie under the table. Cassie tried not to squirm as she received mental images of fingers dancing down her body, staying for a long time to play with her nipples. She felt those nipples stiffen and prayed the restaurant was dark enough so no one else saw.

  By the end of the meal-no, well before the end of the meal—Cassie was desperate for Wynn to pay the check so they could go back across the street to their tiny little motel room. She figured it was more than time to put some of their thoughts into action.

  Wynn looked at her and he stretched out his hand, tentatively, toward her. Suddenly, for the first time that day, she was almost afraid to take it. Last time she had felt so much, too much, for what was meant to be a brief sexual encounter.

  What else could it be? They hardly knew each other. The feelings couldn't be real ones. They were threatened and dependent on each other and so it was natural to want sex under those circumstances, right?

  *Don't pick it apart, Cassie. Just feel.*

  *That's what I'm afraid of doing, Wynn.*

  *Don't be afraid. Not of me. Not right now. Trust me on this.*

  * * * * *

  "So Morris would be all right but for those debts he has been running up and mysteriously paying. He doesn't have the money for the lifestyle he has right now. Who is footing the bill?"

  "Does it matter? Whoever it is will make him look bad once the press starts investigating."

  Art nodded thoughtfully, trying to look like he gave a damn. Then he made his next question very casual.

  "And Chatham? What about Lida?"

  Sam Jeffries shrugged.

  "She's relatively inexperienced, but she does have one real election under her belt. Listen, she's clean, boss. A real choir girl."

  Now who should he trust? Wynn or Sam?

  "That's good to know. Any other tidbits I need to think about with the others?" Art kept his voice very calm.

  Jeffries began to talk, eagerly, gesturing as he made his points. Art's mind drifted. Who should he trust? Who could he trust?

  No one.

  * * * * *

  Wynn jiggled the lock to open the door. The musty smell of motel air conditioner blasted at them. Wynn went to switch it off. Although the room had been hot when they first arrived, the spring night had already turned cold. He hesitated, then turned the heater on instead. That was just as noisy. Maybe that was good. He'd bet the walls were thin and anyone in the room next to them could hear...well, things. Like the bed rocking hard against the wall. And was Cassie a screamer when she came? He'd like that. He'd never been good enough to make anyone scream. Moaning, yeah. He'd managed to wring out some moans from women. Moaning was fine for starters. But he wanted Cassie to scare people with her cries by the time they were done.

  Wynn smiled at her. Cassie took a deep breath and all the tension—from sexual frustration, from their flight, from what they planned to do next—went away. She was filled with anticipation instead.

  Cassie looked at Wynn with sudden suspicion.

  "Can you do that, too?"

  Wynn looked innocent as he locked the door behind her.

  "What?"

  "Make people forget bad stuff. Things that make them tense."

  "It's a new talent." Wynn shrugged. "I never really tried before. Maybe it only works with you. Cassidy."

  He pulled off his T-shirt and waited for a moment. He didn't even look directly at her but Cassie knew he was feeling suddenly hesitant, too.

  "Don't stop now, big guy."

  His beautiful smile flashed once and was gone-and then so were his boots, jeans and underpants. Cassie smiled now, too.

  "Wow."

  He was—hung. Big and beautifully hung. She looked over all those inches of eager penis. The vein that she could almost feel throbbing. His balls, so sensitive to the touch. Oh yes. All of his body was beautiful and she wanted to touch and look at ever
y inch. But his cock was just the icing on the cake.

  Cassie licked her lips. She wanted to get closer and more intimate with that icing.

  Somewhere, in the middle of all this mess, she'd done something right. It wasn't often that a man looked like everything you had fantasized he'd be. Lady Luck had arrived this time.

  "Please." Wynn looked at her. She was startled when she both felt and saw the flash of suspicion. "You don't have to say things just to swell my...ego."

  Oh God. That wasn't his ego getting bigger.

  She felt another flicker of surprise. Uncertainty.

  "Wynn?" Cassie began to see there was more going on than Wynn had let her realize before. "Wynn, believe me, I'm not into flattery with you. Sincerity. Yeah, that's my middle name."

  Actually Lust might be her middle name right now. But she didn't think he believed her. There was only one good way to make him sure. She began to unbutton her shirt.

  His hands were there, over hers. His mouth was very close to her own.

  "Allow me." Wynn's breath sent small prickles of warmth sparking out across her skin. "It would be entirely my pleasure, Cassie."

  "Not entirely yours." Cassie got the words out.

  He had barely done anything and she was feeling a little weak-kneed. And wet-pantied.

  Whatever fed Wynn's doubts, it couldn't be inexperience. His hands were quick and gentle and knowledgeable as they got rid of her shirt, shucked off her pants, lingered over her bra and then stroked her soaking panties off. Well, she wasn't able to hide how she felt about him any more than he could about her.

  She was naked in front of him before she'd even had the chance to fully know what he was doing.

  "Wow." His word echoed hers with a remnant of a smile in the voice.

  Cassie thought about being small—small on top as well as with the rest of her body. There was pudge around her waist that no amount of exercise or housecleaning work had gotten rid of.

  No. She didn't want to think like that. She decided she'd accept his words at face value. She wasn't going to be like Wynn and doubt. For right now and for him, she was wow.

  He hooked his arm under her knees and scooped her up onto the bed. For someone that thin, he was strong. Cassie held onto his shoulders and felt sinewy muscles bunch for a moment. That was nice.

  Then she felt his mouth exactly where they had both imagined it would be earlier. This was no dream, no fantasy. Her entire body felt like it was rocketing up into heaven as his tongue played with her pussy. Cassie threw her arm up over her mouth and bit hard. She hadn't expected anything quite so—

  And then she could feel his thoughts pouring in. Oh, my God!

  *I forgot to ask. Is it OK, Cassie? Is it OK if I enter your mind now? Please tell me it's OK.*

  Having her own lust doubled when his combined with hers, her own desire reflected back with his, his and her need blended, melded, put together—

  *Oh, yes. Yes. Absolutely. *

  Her first climax happened so fast and so strong that she wasn't quite sure but that she blanked out for a moment. She caught her breath for a moment afterward.

  But then Wynn's lovely hard huge cock was inside her and she could feel her second orgasm begin to climb upward. Lord.

  *What the hell were you worried about, mister?*

  She was pretty sure she got that thought out to him because she heard a muffled laugh. Then he pumped into her hard and she lost it again.

  Wynn felt the slickness of her up against him, heard the little moaning whimpers that made him want to whimper too. His body wanted this moment to last forever.

  Then his body wanted more. For a second he didn't think he could ever thrust fiercely enough, fast enough to finally slide over into the physical satisfaction he knew was just almost there, waiting, beckoning, demanding. Must. Wait. If he came too fast it would be good but not good enough.

  Then their ability to link came through. All her thoughts and her feelings swept into his head and threatened to throw him right over the edge. He could hear them louder than he ever had heard anyone before. There was more. Next he could feel what was happening to her.

  He'd never heard or seen or felt anything more exciting in his life. He didn't have to guess if she was excited or wanted more. He knew, just as well as he knew what he wanted and enjoyed, what she desired. She wanted him. Anything he did.

  Wynn tried to keep his distance, tried to make it last, but the emotions that were tangling him up with her were overwhelming. More. He needed more. Wanted more. Damn her for making him feel like this. So much. Too much...He knew he couldn't hold on much longer.

  He didn't need to wait. He could feel the quivering in her, feel her clenching, feel her thoughts blasting off into a multi-colored blaze of delight. Reds and oranges and yellows split through his mind. Hot. Hot. Then, for the first time in his life, he could feel himself falling into the same blaze, burning up with the sex and the excitement and the woman. He saw what she saw, he felt what she felt and he knew she did the same with him.

  He heard the scream begin from far back in his head, almost lost in the buzzing of his own thoughts and sensations.

  No. No, he wasn't supposed to scream.

  Then he heard the sound rip out of her throat. A real scream. Like the one he was hearing inside himself. He'd done that to her. He could feel himself start to come as she convulsed around him. He could see and feel and know the mindless orgasm she lost in.

  But he was the one who was lost, totally lost in their mutual climax.

  Bless her.

  * * * * *

  Emmanuel finally felt himself drifting back to the world the rest of humankind lived in. He hadn't used his special ability so intensely for years. But it hadn't failed him despite his neglect. He had found his answer.

  He smiled.

  "New York City." Some people might find the idea of finding two people in a place that huge intimidating. Emmanuel wasn't one of them. But then he had no particular reason to worry. After all, he had more than one ability he could use to get what he wanted.

  He shifted his body upward from the chair. His time for contemplation was over. He began to pace up and down. Now he needed to act.

  It was time to see whether he could still make another telepath do what he wanted him to do.

  * * * * *

  *What were you worried about?*

  She repeated herself when she saw Wynn sitting there at the edge of the bed, holding out a mug of coffee for her. He was the perfect man—great in bed and knew what to give a woman once he was out of it.

  "Although the coffee could taste better," Cassie remarked, knowing perfectly well that he knew what she had been thinking. "Maybe it's because you drink tea. You do drink tea, right? This doesn't taste all that good."

  "That would be the only thing that didn't taste good," Wynn used his blandest tone.

  Cassie gulped down some coffee a little too quickly at that.

  "Felt great, looked good, tasted right. What did you think was going to go wrong?" Cassie kept her voice as bland as his. "Wynn. What the hell were you worried about? Tell me."

  "Nothing."

  There was a long silence. Cassie kept her eyes on him while he avoided returning the look.

  Then he sighed. Finally he looked up and looked back at her. His mouth lifted in a half smile that looked almost pained.

  "Ah, Cassie. I call it my gift but sometimes it's less a gift than a curse. I'm different. When I'm with a woman I try to be careful because I don't want her to think I'm some kind of freak."

  "Right." Cassie wanted to scoff and then she thought about what he'd said and the way he had said it. He was serious. "Then you're an idiot, Wynn."

  "Maybe with you that worry is idiotic." Wynn slid closer to her on the bed.

  "Seeing as we're freaks together."

  "Seeing as I don't feel worried or closed off from you. I've had women say they couldn't deal with me because I just didn't try to understand them."

  Cassi
e laughed. She put the cup down and slid her finger down that clenched jaw of his. He was so delightful when he was nervous.

  "No, really. They were right. I couldn't afford to get too close in case they realized—I couldn't let them know what I was. That probably makes me really bad in bed." His finger traced a vein on her breast as she sat, propped against the pillow. Her breath caught as his finger slowly, slowly made its way along her skin. "But you understand. You let me in. There's nothing to worry about with you. Not this time. Right?"

  He bent his head to tease at her nipple with his lips. Cassie's mouth went dry. He had one hell of a tongue on him. She tangled her hands in that thick dark hair, inviting him to keep going.

  "Well, I don't think you have to ask if it was good for me, since you can tell from what I've been thinking that it was...all right." Cassie smiled down at his bent head although for a moment she almost wanted to cry. There was no reason he should be so unsure of himself. "Know what? I think you underestimate your abilities in the sack, Harmon."

  *That was you, Cassie. You thought about what you wanted and I did it.*

  *And that's a bad thing, Wynn?*

  "Well, sex with you was fairly tolerable for me, too."

  Cassie nipped at his ear and then flicked her tongue against an earlobe. He shivered.

  "Tolerable. Yes." Cassie slid her body against his. She could feel his physical response to that. He wasn't trying to hide anything from her in that department. That cock was ready for a lot more than a little tongue tangling and breast play. "Maybe we just need to work on it a little more to make it a little more...tolerable. You think?"

  Wynn bit his tongue hard. He'd done things tonight that he'd never done with any other woman. He'd done things he had been sure he'd never wanted to do with any woman. Cassie'd put her hands and mouth on places that—well, he'd always been wary of having anyone get that close. It had seemed too intimate to allow someone to do that to him, to make him lose control that way. That was before Cassie, though.