She dipped down and used her tongue to scoop the now soggy condom back. Now it was easy to unroll over him, even as big as he was, and most eager, bounding forward and back like it was seeking her out. Which, thank her lucky stars, it was.
She lifted up to position herself over him, and he propped a hand behind her. “Slow. I want to feel every millimeter.”
She did, too, though he had to remind her twice by squeezing her butt to do so. As he entered, the muscles of her vagina clenched, and loosened, and clenched again, waves of marvelous tension and relaxation bathing her senses, winding her up even tighter. Then the fullness of him, slow, slow, into her. She jumped when he slid past her G-spot, and he smiled. “So noted,” he said, his voice whispering past his heavy breathing. Now both his hands were on her hips, not so much guiding as holding on for dear life.
She loved this sense of power. Her old boyfriend hated having her on top, so they rarely did it.
Beau was half in her now, and she was in balance. She gripped his shoulders, kneading them. Her thumbs moved down, and flicked his taut nipples.
He bucked so hard he would have impaled her, but his hands kept their hips at the same distance. May felt a twinge of disappointment. Next time, maybe.
Slowly, slowly, she settled on him. He lifted a hand to her breast, kneading so softly. Slowly, slowly, she couldn’t stand much more. His hand slid up her chest, up her neck, his fingers reaching her lips. She sucked them in, hard. It was harder to squirm in this position, but she was managing it.
With a pop she seated him all the way inside her. It felt like there was no space left, he filled her so completely.
“Beautiful,” he breathed out, and sucked another deep breath in. “Don’t move. I want to savor this.”
As if. She couldn’t help herself; her hips just made that figure-eight on their own. She kissed his lips an apology, and he smiled.
“Next time.”
She felt him reach around her hip and between them, fingers down. Her blood pulsed in anticipation, as if sending sonar waves to help guide him in. He found her, and she nearly exploded right then.
But she breathed the passion out, and let it build higher. Kissing his neck, his beautiful shoulder, she saw his smallpox vaccine mark, and licked that as well. His hips were matching hers. Not matching, but complementing. Dancing.
She closed her eyes, and the sensations doubled. She had too much feeling for one body. Building, building, her breathing louder, wilder. And was he feeling even bigger?
He held his thumb still on that spot as she came, his other hand holding hard so she couldn’t buck away. She rode wave after wave, so long she actually could open her eyes and see the colors flow by.
As she felt the peak fade, she squeezed, riding him tight down, then up, then all the way down. He came as loud as he had this morning.
Good thing they were the only ones on this floor of the hotel.
She held still as he spiraled down, not sure if he was sensitive after orgasm or not. Then she collapsed on top of him, not bothering to push him out yet.
He stroked her back slowly, gently, like warm rain on a summer’s day.
She sighed. “Slow is nice, you’re right. But next time, we’re going faster.”
He groaned a chuckle. “My trainer warned me about girls like you.”
“Did you listen?”
“Lucky for you, I did.”
****
May woke to the familiar smell of hotel sheets, but a new angle on the sun. His bed, with the view of the Capitol, round and square and white set beside the green of the Mall. Morning, and already afternoon in Beau’s world.
She gloried in the soft sheets against her bare skin. He liked to sleep apart, but with a hot palm gripping her somewhere. She lifted the sheet to see if he’d marked her there, on her hip, her waist, her shoulder. No visible trace, but she’d swear she could still feel the force, the weight, the warmth of him.
She smiled, and stretched, and rolled off the bed and onto her feet. She’d left her clothes in the living room, but he wasn’t the sort to leave his own clothes lying around, apparently. She found a hotel bathrobe in the washroom, and headed out.
He was talking into the air again, but he stopped cold when he saw her. She must look like a balloon toy, hidden in folds of soft terry cloth.
“You look beautiful,” he said, “like a plush present ready to be unwrapped.” He gazed at her a moment in frank appreciation, and then he must have heard something from his ear bud. He touched his ear and frowned, his gaze shifting to the screens on the table. He waved her over to the table. He wrapped his arm around her waist, grabbing a big handful of cloth and a little bit of her. May bumped her hip into his. She loved this closeness.
He reached for a screen, and swiped a window onto the screen closest to her. He magnified the view, some sort of news site. At the top of the page was the photo of him and the little blonde fan from yesterday.
“Great photographer,” she said, and frowned. That girl shouldn’t be in the picture. She had no claim to him.
“But?”
“But I don’t like it. Aren’t we supposed to be keeping you under wraps?”
He touched his earpiece and told Meri he was hanging up. “That’s why you don’t like it?” He jiggled her at the hip, shaking a small smile out of her.
“And you’re not hers. You’re mine. For the moment,” she said hastily.
He wrapped his arms around her and tugged her into his lap.
“For the night, for the days.” He kissed her temple. “Maybe forever, who can say?”
Could he be serious? She wanted him to be, too much. Was it too soon? She pulled her head a little back, trying to read his soul through his crystal-blue eyes.
They crinkled at the corners, somewhere between a smile and a wince. “Oh, I know I’m on the rebound, and you’re a walking wound and all, but I’ve never felt this way before, and you seem just a little smitten, too. It seems a shame to discount it just because the timing’s wrong.”
She raised her brow. He was forgetting something.
“Okay, and the distance thing, too. We could meet in Iceland, or Ireland.” His mouth wobbled. Could he doubt her attraction to him?
She kissed his temple. “Or during meetings about the expedition.”
“You’ll be part of those meetings?”
“I wish. No, but I’ll be in the office. We can meet after.”
He stroked her hair, following the line from crown to under her ear. “Bob. The name of the cut, right? Do you really wish it?”
The hair? No, the trip. “Of course. To see Antarctica? Wow. And I’m sure penguins in the wild don’t walk, or probably talk, anything like they do in zoos.”
He swerved his head farther from her, and she realized she was swinging her hands wide in her excitement. But she couldn’t stop.
“I’d hoped to sell some paintings, see if I could earn some money to go at least to the base camp.”
“Edmondsson should pay for that.”
“He disagrees.”
“Idiot.”
“An old man set in his ways. But I thought if I showed him I could get to base camp, you know, he might reconsider. People get sick, and spaces open up, and if you’re there, well.” She shrugged. It had made sense in theory. And that’s where it stayed.
“You really want to go.”
Her shoulders slumped. “But the painting isn’t going well.”
“There’s more to this story,” he said, looking past her to the screen, pulling the photo up.
She read the text under the photo. It must be a gossip site, because it used blind quotes and anonymous sources. Beau Kurck was in town to finalize plans to fund an ambitious expedition to Antarctica, under the auspices of the esteemed Penguin Foundation and storied explorer-president, Markus Edmondsson.
“Sadie had to have leaked that. She’s the only one who uses ‘storied explorer-president’. The rest of us put an ‘and’ in between.”
> “Their first salvo.”
“I’m sorry. It is a good cause.”
“Why are you sorry?” He tilted his head to get a better look at her face. “If you had to choose, you’d take the penguin trip?”
“Over what?”
“Over me.”
She looked at him, startled. What was he saying? Her job or him?
“Too hard a question?”
Her heart lurched, as if it were in his blasted game. “Why do I have to choose? Going to Antarctica automatically disqualifies me from being in the same room as you?” She was squeaking. It was a miracle he even understood her.
“Shh. It’s just a question. I didn’t mean the world by it.”
“Are you magic? Did you wrap a string around my chest last night? You’re choking my heart.”
He hugged her tight, his breath warm on her neck. “Not what I meant,” he murmured.
She pushed him away, but not that far away. “Then, what?”
“I have a plan for tonight. I’ve made some calls, called in a favor. But things still might fall out a couple of ways. If you never saw Antarctica, or you never saw me again, what would be worse?”
She dropped her head on his shoulder, her thoughts racing. He was testing her? He was doing that impersonal CEO logic thing?
No. He was afraid, too. Afraid she’d hurt him.
“You,” she said, sighing the word out. Feeling her heart ease. Sure, it was fast, but it was right.
“Me, too.” He snuggled her close to him.
“What’s the plan?”
“Trust me. And do whatever I say tonight.” Before she could protest, he took her lips in one of those only-by-Beau kisses. Even though they were sitting, May had to grab his shoulders for balance.
“I have three plans. And they all include you.”
****
On this mild and quiet June Friday, black and silver bunting hung from the balconies and draped the tall Corinthian columns in the great hall of the NationalBuildingMuseum. The color would have to come from the partiers tonight.
But not the men, May expected. Even Beau’s tux, thought perfectly cut, of course, was the traditional black over white. Even his cummerbund was silver. She stood a little too close to him as they entered under the great columns. He was hers.
They were fashionably late. May had fretted over the time, but Beau had said he wanted to make Edmondsson sweat, just a little. Probably the only ones sweating were she and Sadie, May thought.
As if her thoughts had conjured her up, Sadie appeared at her side. Her beautiful hair was forced into an Evita-tight bun at the base of her neck, but at least her shoulders were free hovering over a navy satin bustier.
“You’re late,” she said, looking nervously over her shoulder.
“You look lovely, too, Miss Hawking.” Beau was as smooth as his cummerbund. He’d shaved again, but somehow that made him look more dangerous. He looked pointedly at May.
Sadie took the hint. “You look gorgeous, May, in that color. Not many people can pull off such a regal purple.”
Beau nodded his approval and then looked around. Already, nearly two hundred people swirled around, talking loud over the dulcet murmur of a string quartet. “Somebody needed to liven up this joint. When is the big announcement?”
Sadie’s face went cheerful-blank. May saw Beau’s lips quirk. Now the lies would begin.
“We’re so glad you agreed to do this. And the changes yesterday, they’re all approved, as we said in the email.”
“Which didn’t have many specifics.”
“Minor details, only.” Sadie waved the foundation’s perfidy away with a flick of her hand. May saw a new flash on her finger.
“Sadie. Did you get engaged?”
She spread her hand out, showing a diamond in a classy oval setting. “Last night. We had a big fight, about Mr. Kurck but really not. I threatened to walk, and it wasn’t ’til then that I realized I really didn’t want to. Really, really didn’t want to. And neither did she. So, I proposed.”
“You?”
“We both got rings. It was only fair.” Sadie’s grin was nearly ear to ear, but then she seemed to remember who she was talking to. The smile vanished, and she looked at Beau.
Who was still smiling. “Excellent. You will be very happy together.”
Sadie’s smile crept upon her again, growing to small-sun wattage. “She’s here, somewhere. We haven’t set a date yet. Have to wait for Rhode Island to make it legal.” She looked at her hand again and then her watch. “Ten minutes, and up in front of the stage, there. Have a drink and enjoy yourselves.”
They pulled flutes of champagne from the tray of a passing server, and walked into the center of the hall. Triple-story high, the ceiling sat on columns almost better suited for the outside. With the balcony ringing the open space, it looked like an upscale version of the foundation’s own office, without the stairs marring the effect. May wondered if that was why Edmondsson had chosen it. Sadie had had quite the negotiation to secure the place, and get the special permissions for drinks and food.
“What happens to all this cloth after?” Beau stroked one of the pieces on a column. “It’s good quality.”
“The best. It’s rented. This is the same setup as for the last inaugural ball here. But don’t tell the boss, please.”
“So long as the food isn’t from the last inauguration.” He reached for one of the wooden skewers of chicken satay a server was offering up. He bit over the stick halfway down the little strip of saucy chicken, pulling the rest of the piece toward the end of the stick before biting half off. Then he held the stick out to her. She locked her gaze with his as she opened her mouth and leaned in, pulling the meat off the stick gently with her teeth. He growled, low in his throat.
“Ten minutes,” she teased.
“They should play dance music, so I can touch you. Looking at you is sweet torture.”
She licked her lips, smiling as his hips moved in that way. “I could use some more champagne.”
“How about something stronger? You might need it.”
The bars were set up on the sides, under the balconies. They headed for the far side, with fewer customers.
“You still haven’t told me what you’re going to do.”
“That’s because I’m going to vamp.”
“Is that a good plan?”
“I really wish you had a dress like Miss Hawking’s. I miss your breasts.”
“Don’t distract me. Besides, you have the whole of my back.” The halter-style dress had only a band behind her neck, leaving all bare to the base of her spine, covered only by her frothy shawl.
“How could I forget?”
She shook her head at him. “White, please.”
He got himself a red wine. They walked in the relative quiet of the under-hang until May saw Sadie gesturing to them from the stage. She pointed her out to Beau.
“Showtime,” he said. Setting their glasses aside, he twined his fingers in hers and walked toward the base of the stage. But he didn’t stop there.
Taking the stairs quickly, he strode straight to Sadie and her microphone. Before she had a chance to call for quiet, he had the mic—and the floor.
“Friends, friends,” he said, and May watched the transformation from crazy-quiet inventor Beau to multimillionaire crowd-pleasing Beau Kurck. He seemed a foot taller, his voice a quarter-octave lower. And the crowd, jaded politicos and do-gooders alike, fell silent so quickly that the only sound was the stomp of Markus Edmondsson, racing to the center of the stage. He must have been behind the scenes, waiting for his cue, like usual.
Beau ignored him and started in. “For those who don’t know me, I’m Beau Kurck, the creator of those pesky penguins that drive your kids batty.” He waited for the titters to fade. “I want to thank the Penguin Foundation, especially Markus Edmondsson, for inviting me here today.” Now he nodded and smiled toward the blond man, who’d skidded to a halt beside Sadie. Red-faced and vibrating
visibly, Edmondsson slowly nodded and bared his teeth in a shadow of a smile.
“When he told me of his idea, to build one last expeditionary team and send it to Antarctica, I was skeptical, I have to say. But then he explained it wasn’t just for glory, but to save the planet. Because if we could show people how changes in the climate were killing these adorable birds, they might understand that it affects all the planet, including us. Brilliant.” Beau held up his hands and started clapping. May copied him, and the crowd, well-trained from decades of State of the Union speeches and other functions, followed along.
Edmondsson’s face was purpling, but he did that smile thing again and made a little queenish wave. Then he lunged for the microphone.
Beau turned away from him, toward the crowd, and held up his hand. “But this is the truly brilliant part. Revolutionary. Markus here plans to let the world in on the adventure. Through video, audio, interactive media, every person on the planet can follow along on the adventure. Apps and games can show the route, and maybe teach a thing or two, as well. You never know.” That one didn’t deserve a laugh, but it got one.
“Markus has so inspired me with this idea that I have agreed to fund the expedition on the ground. We’ll be asking folks to chip in for the interactive features, and I hope you’ll want to help us out. It’s been a dream of mine to be of benefit to the adorable creatures that helped me buy my house. Houses,” he said, to another cheap laugh. “And to show how committed I am, Markus has agreed to let me lead the adventure. Together we’ll choose the team, and he’ll anchor us here in DC.”
Edmondsson’s mouth was closed so tightly May was afraid he’d crack his teeth. She’d pay for this on Monday, if not tonight.
She stepped back, but Beau still had her hand and stopped her movement just long enough to realize everything had changed. She had nothing to fear.
“Let’s raise a toast.” He signaled to the servers, who had been well-prepared by Sadie and didn’t know the difference. “To Markus!”
“And the penguins!” a woman’s voice called out. The senator’s?
After much clinking of glassware, Beau made to hand over the microphone to Edmondsson, but seemed to think better of it, and pulled it back. “Is that Senator Lindell I hear?”
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