Nerds Like It Hot

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  If Cora had been setting a sexual trap, she'd done one hell of a job. Lex was in danger of walking around with a permanent hard-on, and he couldn't imagine how he'd make it through the night without crawling into bed with the bodacious Ms. McCormick. Wowza.

  Cora had hired Dante, too, though. Had she been willing to hook Gillian up with either of them? That idea didn't sit well with him. He and Dante were best friends, but they weren't interchangeable parts in some grand scheme that Cora had dreamed up.

  Gillian hadn't been given much chance to choose Dante, though. Circumstances had thrown Lex into the role, but maybe that was only the luck of the draw. She was in a vulnerable spot right now, so if Dante had stayed behind in order to drive her to the dock, he might have been the one who would have ended up next to her on a lounge chair, the one who would have volunteered to share a stateroom with her for the duration of the cruise to Mexico.

  Okay, there was a train of thought capable of cooling his cannoli. He didn't relish being the convenient sex object. If Dante would have filled that position as easily, then that didn't make what he and Gillian had experienced special.

  Maybe she was wishing Dante had been the one after the argument they'd had. Maybe a Libra man worked with a Cancer woman. What did he know about that hog-wash, anyway?

  By the time he'd left the bathroom and turned out the light, he was in a state of righteous indignation, which was preferable to a state of blue-balled arousal. He left the condoms in the bathroom. Maybe he should have thrown them away, but that might have been taking his current attitude a little too far. He didn't want to completely destroy his options.

  He'd planned to sleep in his T-shirt and boxers during this trip, so that's the way he walked out into the room. Gillian was under the covers in the bed nearest the bathroom. With the sheet up to her neck and her eyes closed, she looked less like a sex goddess.

  The hell she did. He knew exactly what she looked like under that sheet, and her coy pretense of being asleep only fired him up again. So much for righteous indignation. It evaporated in the heat generated by Gillian's presence in this small, very small, room.

  "Suppose Dante had driven you to the dock?" he asked. "What do you think would have happened then?"

  Her eyes popped open and she sat straight up, which meant the sheet fell down and her incredible breasts were once again on display as they threatened to break free of the stretchy black lace. "Exactly what are you implying?" Her dark eyes flashed fire and brimstone.

  He was a little taken aback by the fury in her expression. "You're under a strain. You need someone to be there for you. I happen to be the one who—"

  "That is quite enough!" Throwing back the covers, she jumped out of bed and grabbed the walkie-talkie. "Maybe I'll just call Dante right now and get him over here, because I'm damned sure not going to spend the night in the same room with you."

  "Hold on." He didn't want this argument spilling over into the next room. He tried to grab the walkie-talkie, but she jerked it out of reach.

  "You think that everything that's happened between us is only because you're handy? Is that what you think?" She tried to punch buttons on the walkie-talkie, but she was obviously too upset to make it work. "Damn it, how does this thing turn on?"

  "Don't turn it on." He grabbed her. God, her skin was so soft.

  She struggled against his grip. "Let me go."

  He couldn't bear to. "Listen to me. You're in a bind, grasping at straws. It would only be logical that—"

  "Logical? What about us is the least bit logical?" She wrenched away from him, and he had to let her go or risk bruising those soft arms.

  "Gillian."

  "Damn this thing!" She gave up on the walkie-talkie and threw it on her bed. "You talk about logic? I'm running away to South America! I have no business letting myself fall for anybody, let alone some PI who is trying to build a business in L.A., only likes me because I look like Marilyn, and is an Aries, for God's sake." She stood there breathing hard and glaring at him.

  The glaring was one thing. He didn't like being glared at, but he could handle it. The hard breathing was the part that could break through his control. This was a woman who had made the mere act of breathing a piece of performance art.

  Watching her breathing like that made it tougher to concentrate on what she was saying, but he had the feeling that what she'd just told him was very important. He fastened on the one statement that he knew was wrong. "You think I like you because you look like Marilyn?"

  "Sure. She was a sex symbol. Everybody wanted to go to bed with her. Now Cora has made me over to look like her, complete with the dresses, the hair, and the makeup, so it's natural that you would see me and think Marilyn, which translates into bedroom thoughts."

  Lex groaned. "That is so not true. I do look at you and think about a bedroom, but it's not because you look like some long-dead movie star."

  She put her hands on her hips. "Well, I think it is. The real me has long brown hair, not short and blond. And I don't like wearing much makeup, and I don't dress in slinky outfits, and—"

  "You're not wearing any makeup now, and you're still hot enough to bring me to my knees."

  She blinked, as if she'd forgotten that she'd taken off all the war paint. "Oh." She put her hands up to her hair. "But I'm still blond, and I'm wearing this sexy nightgown."

  "Is that your real body under the nightgown? Or are you about to reveal that you're wearing some sort of vinyl suit that gives you those curves? I know you didn't have time for implants, and everything looks real, so naturally I assumed that what I see is what you've got."

  "Uh ... it's all me." A smile struggled to break through and spoil the hissy fit she had going on. "My charms have always been ... ample."

  "Yeah." Saliva pooled in his mouth. He wanted her so much. "And that's a very good thing."

  "But what about the brown hair? I'll bet you're partial to blondes and I currently fit the bill. But once this groves out, I'm done. I'm not into dyeing my hair."

  She might not believe him if he told her brown sounded nice, so he tried a different approach. "I don't have a favorite hair color. I'm more interested in what's going on inside your head than what's growing on the outside. I like that you got an A in astronomy."

  Her expression said she was only partly convinced. "But you think I would have been just as happy to share that astronomy lecture on deck with Dante? Is that what you were hinting at earlier?"

  He was afraid to confirm or deny. She'd settled down and stopped trying to communicate with Dante on the walkie-talkie, so he hesitated to say anything more on the subject and get her riled up again. He wanted to contain this discussion within these four walls.

  "Because if that's what you think, then you've insulted me and you've insulted yourself." She gazed at him for several seconds. "I've been attracted to you from the first minute I saw you." She pointed a finger at him. "You, not Dante. I like your blue eyes, your easy smile, your lean body, and the fact that you got an A in your astronomy class."

  He was completely confused. "Then why don't you want to have sex with me?"

  "I do want to have sex with you."

  "All right!" He reached for her.

  She stepped just out of reach. "But now that I've had some time to think about it, I sincerely believe it would be a bad idea."

  "Is this about that Cancer, Aries thing?" If so, he was ready to strangle Little Ben. "Partly."

  "You know what I think about that."

  "Yes, and you don't have to go into it again. I can see some basis for the evaluation, but if you can't, then—"

  "What basis?" He really was going to have a word with that little Ph.D.

  "I'm the candlelight, wine, and flowers type, and you, obviously, are not."

  He blew out a breath and prayed for patience. "We're not exactly in a candlelight, wine, and flowers situation."

  "No, but a guy with some romance in his soul could have improvised."

  "Like how?" He'd lov
e to hear how she thought he should have handled the past twenty-four hours differently.

  "While I was in the bathroom just now, you were out here waiting, thinking we'd have sex. Am I right?"

  "My mistake. I found the condoms under my pillow and thought you'd put them there. Now I know it was Cora."

  "Even if I had put them there, you could have set the scene to make it more romantic."

  He glanced around the room in complete bafflement. "Like how? I don't have candles, wine, or flowers."

  "You could have folded back the covers on my bed. You could have used one of your shirts to cover the light and make it softer. You could have written me a sweet poem and propped it on my pillow."

  "A poem! Are you sure you don't want Dante? He even has the right name to be a poet."

  She sighed. "No, I don't want Dante. But you're making my point for me. I can tell from your reaction that you think all that would have been stupid. Whereas I would have been touched."

  He studied her for several long seconds as he wrestled with the challenge she was throwing out. "You're right that I didn't think of any of that. Not once. Let me tell you what I was thinking about."

  "That you only had two condoms?"

  "Very funny." Actually he had thought about that. Knowing how she affected him, he hadn't thought that would be enough. But he wasn't about to admit that. "I was thinking that someone has the ability to get in the room, and I didn't want us to be involved in sex and have someone creep in here."

  "Eeuuww." She shivered. "That's another really good reason not to have sex. Or fall asleep, for that matter.

  Maybe we should all spend the night in the other room. That would fake them out."

  "I came up with an idea that would solve the door problem and the sex problem. That's what I was thinking about when you were in the bathroom." And he was proud of his solution, too. She might not think he was romantic, but he had come up with an answer to the sex question.

  She seemed intrigued. "And what is that?"

  "Simple. We take the mattress off the bed. Because it's a twin, it will fit exactly into that space between the bathroom and the closet."

  "You're sure?"

  "I measured. With the mattress in place, and especially if I'm sleeping on it... or, better yet, we're having sex on it, no one will be able to get in the door."

  She glanced over at the entryway that had the bathroom on one side and the closet on the other. Then she looked at his bed. "That's pretty clever."

  "I thought so."

  "It's not romantic, but it's very clever. We should definitely wedge the mattress up against the door. I'm feeling safer already."

  He was encouraged that she thought so much of his plan. She hadn't mentioned whether she'd go along with the sex part, but the mattress move was definitely a go. "We can do it now, if you want. I wanted to wait until we were both out of the bathroom. We could end up blocking that door, too. I think the mattress will come up over the sill. And I'm not sure if we'll be able to get in the closet. Maybe not."

  "I don't care about that. Blockading the door is more important than anything. Good thinking, Lex. Let's do it."

  "I can handle it." He was more than willing to show off his he-man qualities. Maybe she'd be swayed by that. Maybe it would substitute for flowers.

  "No, I want to help. Besides, in a room this small, I need to help or risk being knocked over in the process."

  Because he could see the logic in that, he agreed. "Okay, but let me do the heavy lifting."

  "We should strip off everything first."

  For one wild moment he thought she was talking about their clothes, but when she pulled off the bedspread, he let go of that fantasy. She wasn't ready to move the mattress and then jump on it. Or if she was, she wasn't saying.

  She had the sheets off in no time and had tossed them along with the pillow, on her bed.

  "I'll get the foot and walk backward toward the door," he said. "You can guide it from the top."

  She walked up to the head of the bed. "Ready."

  "Here goes." He lifted the mattress, grabbing it as best he could, and pulled it sideways toward the doorway. Gillian was able to get a corner, but she was standing between the two beds and didn't have much room to maneuver.

  In his mind, moving the mattress had been easier. It wasn't heavy, but it was awkward. Then too he had to look at Gillian leaning over. Oh, Lordy. When she did that, he could see—

  "Watch out!"

  He turned, but too late to keep the lamp on the dresser from crashing to the floor. "Whoops."

  "Just keep going," Gillian said. "We'll worry about the lamp later."

  But at that moment someone started pounding on their door. Dante was shouting their names. "Lex! Gillian! If you don't open up, I'm calling security!"

  Lex sighed. The crashing lamp had brought Dante. "We're okay!"

  "I'm not believing that until I see the whites of your eyes, buddy. Somebody could be holding a gun to your head or a knife to your throat."

  Lex eased his end of the mattress to the floor. "Keep it steady." Then he walked over, unlocked the door and opened it. Dante stood there in his Big Dog boxers. "Here they are, the whites of my eyes," Lex said. "Thanks for responding, though. I do appreciate it."

  Dante peered past him. "We heard a crash."

  "I knocked over a lamp."

  Dante's jaw dropped. "You're the man! I've never knocked over a lamp while I was having sex. That's awesome."

  Lex glanced up and down the hall. Then he lowered his voice. "Keep it down, okay? And for your information, we weren't having sex. We're moving a mattress."

  "Moving a mattress?" Dante scratched the back of his head. "I don't know what good that will do. I know twin beds suck, but those frames are bolted to the floor. There's no way you're going to rum those twins into a king. I suggest using it to your advantage. More excuse for close contact. It could be cozy."

  Lex didn't want to discuss it. "Dante, just go back to bed. But thanks for checking on us."

  "If you're sure you're okay."

  "We're fine over here."

  "I'm sure you're fine. Please don't feel guilty because I'm over there with a Snorasorus. I'll be lucky if I get any sleep at all, but that's okay! I'm here to serve."

  "I'm grateful for your sacrifice."

  Dante grinned. "Yeah, well, what goes around comes around. I'm expecting my reward any time now. See ya." He turned and sauntered back to his room.

  Lex closed and locked the door. Then he turned around to find Gillian dragging the mattress toward the door.

  He moved to take it from her. "Here. I've got that." She smelled like a million bucks. The effort to get the mattress in place must have activated her perfume. He'd heard that heat could do that.

  She didn't give up her corner. "Grab the other corner. It's almost there."

  Dragging it into the entryway with her meant a lot of bumping of bodies, and he was getting into that. If the entryway could have been about forty feet long, he would have happily dragged that mattress all the way, happy to be nudging her hips and even, once, her left breast.

  When they were both mashed up against the door, they had to drop the mattress.

  "Tight quarters." She was panting a little, and she didn't look at him.

  "Yeah." He didn't look at her, either, but he was getting aroused. Any minute now he'd be erecting a tent in boxer-land. "One of us has to walk back there first. We can't both fit at the same time. You go."

  "Okay." Steadying herself against the wall, and then the closed bathroom door, she walked barefoot over the mattress. Pranced, was more like it. The spongy surface wouldn't allow a straight walk.

  He shouldn't have watched her move across that bouncy mattress, but he did. Her breasts jiggled and her hips swayed, and now his condition was worse. He made the mattress trip quickly, before his erection became more obvious.

  "Now I guess we just shove it in," she said.

  She would never know how that innoce
nt statement got to him. "Right." Somehow he leaned over, painful though it was, and helped her push the mattress up tight against the door.

  "There you have it," she said.

  "Yep." He gazed at the expanse of mattress and imagined all the things that could take place there. But she wanted candlelight, wine, and flowers. Poetry, even. He was a little scarce on those things.

  "I suppose we should get a sheet."

  "Uh-huh." He couldn't seem to move from this spot at the end of the mattress. That cushy surface had such potential.

  "Want me to get a sheet?"

  He decided to go for broke. Gathering his courage, he looked at her. Then he took her hand. She was trembling. "Gillian, I don't need a sheet. I don't need anything but that mattress ... and you. Please ... join me."

  Her lips parted as she sighed. "That was beautiful."

  Victory!

  "Then you will?"

  "I would love to, but..."

  "But what? What's wrong now?"

  "The mattress blocks the bathroom door."

  "So what?" He was a desperate man. "We can worry about that later!"

  "I don't think so. You took the condoms in there. I didn't see you bring them back out."

  Seventeen

  GILLIAN HAD NEVER SEEN ANYTHING LIKE IT. AS IF he were a man possessed, Lex grabbed the end of the mattress and hoisted it straight up. He scraped the overhead light in the ceiling of the entry way in the process of shoving it flush against the door, but he didn't seem to notice. The effort reminded her of footage she'd seen of people lifting cars in a rush of adrenaline.

  Breathing hard and holding the mattress steady with both hands, he glanced over his shoulder at her. "Can you open the door, now?"

  "I would think so." She managed not to laugh. He'd been so quick to remedy the problem, but he probably wouldn't appreciate having her laugh at his effort. "Yes. Yes, I can."

  "I left the condoms on the counter. I'll hold the mattress while you get them."

  "Right." She hopped over the sill. "So you want me to bring both of them?" She knew the answer, but she wanted to hear it from him.