Under Cover

by MaryJanice Davidson

  “No.” She tossed her head. “Then you’ll get used to it and take me for granted.”

  “Never!” he exclaimed. “Do I have to get on my knees again?”

  “Oh, yes. But later.” She smiled at him, delighted to see he could both blush and look randy at the same time.

  “Hey, I—” His voice had roughened and he cleared his throat. “Anyway, thanks for letting me come over. I’m living out of a hotel room, and it’s sure nice to come to a house, y’know?”

  “A hotel? Didn’t you move here when you bought Anodyne?”

  “Oh, hell, no. I’m just here to oversee Faskin. After that—” He mimed a bird flying away.

  “Oh.” Don’t be an idiot. Did you think he was in love? Did you think you were? “I didn’t realize that.”

  “Hey, I thought you’d be thrilled. You don’t have to worry about being stuck with me once the job’s done,” he joked.

  “Thank God for that,” she said coldly, and dumped the rest of her wine down the sink. She turned on the garbage disposal and scraped the rest of the pasta—there wasn’t much; they’d both been famished—down the sink. “Are you being discreet because you’ll leave when you have what you need?”

  “What?” he shouted over the grinding blades.

  She shut the disposal off. “I said, has my kitchen met your needs?”

  He blinked at the strange question. “Uh… sure.”

  “Thank you for cooking,” she said formally.

  “My pleasure.”

  “I must repay the favor.”

  He bowed in the direction of her bedroom. “After you.”

  “I mean,” she said coolly, “take you out to dinner or something along those lines.”

  “Oh.” He seemed taken aback by the abrupt temperature drop. Part of her thought that was just fine. “Sure. Anytime.”

  “Anytime before you leave.”

  “Well… yeah.”

  Genius, my large white butt. I’ve never known someone so smart and so dumb at the same time.

  She forced a smile. “There’s a special on tonight that I’d like to watch.”

  “Reality TV fan, eh?”

  “Hardly. It’s about…” She paused, the better to savor the man’s name on her lips, in her mouth. “… Dr. Langer.”

  She sat down on the far end of the couch, and was annoyed when he plopped down right beside her. Then she was annoyed because she was annoyed. What on earth did you expect? Marriage? For God’s sake. You only jumped Jimmy to get him out of your system.

  “—went to MIT, too. My profs were in total awe of him. The couple times I met him, he seemed like a pretty good guy.”

  “What?”

  “Jeez, did you zone off again?”

  “Do not snap your fingers in my face, not unless you want to pull back a stump.”

  He raised his hands in surrender. “Whoa, easy! Guess I have to speak up in order to be heard over the voices in your head.”

  “Something like that,” she admitted. At least when I’m dealing with you.

  “I was just saying, when I went to MIT people were still talking about him. And he’s almost twice our age.”

  “Almost twice your age,” she pointed out.

  He shrugged. “Like we give a shit about that.”

  Mollified, she picked up the remote and turned on the television. “Oooh, there he is!”

  Robert Langer was explaining to the PBS interviewer that his usual methodology was to look at a problem upside down and inside out.

  Thea felt her mood instantly unsnarl. “Ohhhhh,” she sighed. “He’s so handsome!”

  “What? He’s balding and he looks embalmed in that lighting.”

  “He’s just so—so smart. So unbelievably smart. God, those piercing, deep brown eyes—”

  “I thought you liked green eyes, “Jimmy whined.

  “—that big, beautiful skull…”

  “Holding a big fat brain, no doubt.”

  “Oh, exactly. Exactly! Curse him for being married! You know, he’s the reason I went into bio-medical engineering.”

  Jimmy was now slumped so far down on the couch, his butt was hanging over the edge. “How fabulous.”

  “I could watch him forever.”

  “Well, this special’s an hour long. For what it’s worth, it’ll seem like forever.”

  She tuned him out and listened raptly to every word uttered by the great god Langer. The hour sped by and she clicked off the TV, disappointed, when the credits rolled.

  Jimmy was still slouched beside her, staring at the ceiling. “Thank Christ,” he said. “That was fucking endless. I think my ass fell asleep.”

  “I thought you liked Dr. Langer.”

  “I don’t like watching my best girl drool all over him,” he snapped.

  “Best girl?”

  “Oh, be quiet.” He crossed his arms over his chest and sulked.

  She leaned into him and worked the first three buttons free of his shirt, then slipped her hand inside and caressed his nipple. She felt his chest heave as he took a quick breath, then his arms relaxed. “Come back to the bedroom with me?”

  “Oh, this is fucking bogus! You’re totally using me because that PBS special got you hot Admit it!”

  “Come back to the bedroom with me?”

  “Yes,” he growled. “I’ll take you however I can get you.” He stood in an abrupt movement and hauled her up beside him. “If you call me Robert, I’m going home.”

  “Agreed.” Robert.

  When he asked her what she was laughing about, she refused to tell him.

  He chased her to the bedroom.

  Chapter Eleven

  They helped each other off with their clothes, fumbling in their haste, and Thea noticed her bra was hanging from the curtain rod. Well, it’s not like she needed that particular item of clothing anytime soon.

  Jimmy, she noticed, was careful to never turn his back on her. She was torn between sympathy and amazement. She couldn’t imagine the immense physical pain he’d endured, to say nothing of the trauma of the fire itself. On the other hand, he was so carefree, such an amiable clown, she was astonished he could be so self-conscious over a few scars.

  She put her hands on his stomach—it was like pushing against a two-by-four—and shoved. He toppled back on the bed, clad only in one kelly green sock.

  “Be right back. And for God’s sake, lose the sock.”

  “It brings out my eyes!” he yelled after her.

  She grabbed the bottle of Scope, pausing for a moment to stare at her reflection. Was this woman with mussed hair and glittering eyes really her? She was flushed with excitement and her hands were trembling. She absolutely could not wait to get her hands on Jimmy’s scrumptious body. She was as giddy as a kid with her first chemistry set!

  Are you going to stare at yourself, or are you going to pleasure him out of his mind?

  The latter, of course.

  There isn’t a single man in the world luckier than me right now. Not one.

  He had a forearm thrown over his eyes; if he were to actually watch Thea going down on him, he’d probably drown her.

  She had sipped some mouthwash, and the next thing he knew, she was sucking his dick into her mouth. The warmth of her lips, tongue, and cheeks, coupled with the cool sting of the mouthwash, nearly made him leap off the bed.

  She’d been at it for at least ten hours. Or at least that’s how it felt. She wasn’t shy about using her hands and fingers, either, and as a result, it felt like about three different women were in bed with him.

  Thank you, Dr. Longer. I love you, Dr. Longer.

  He brought his hands down and buried them in the black fire of her hair. Quite unconsciously, he dug his heels into the mattress and started to thrust against her mouth. “If you’re not the swallowing type,” he rasped, “it’s time to let me go.”

  She hummed in response, which set the mouth-wash to vibrating against the tender flesh of his cock. The top of his head blew off—at
least, that’s how it felt—and he was gripped with spasms so fierce, he was still shuddering a minute later.

  “Good heavens,” Thea remarked, propping herself up on an elbow to study him. “Are you all right?”

  “Holy shit,” he groaned. “You’re not even out of breath!”

  “I lettered in swimming in college,” she said primly.

  “Holy God.”

  “It’s just a chemical reaction,” she teased. “We see them every day in the lab.”

  “Not in my lab!”

  She leaned over him, pulled open the bedside drawer, and rummaged around.

  “What the hell is that?”

  “This? What does it look like?”

  “That vibrator,” he said, shocked, “is as long as my forearm.”

  She gave him an irritated glance, shoved Mr. Shaky further back into the drawer, and fished out a new box of condoms. “I don’t have a steady boyfriend,” she explained. “And I spend most of my time in the lab. What do you suggest? Porn mags and bubble gum?”

  “First of all, you just raised the worst mental image ever. Second—” He was distracted by the box she fished out of the drawer. “Magnum extra large? My ego is getting so big, there won’t be room for the two of us in this bed.”

  “I broke two condoms on you last night,” she complained. “Thank God the third one held. I’d just as soon not have another latex wrestling match.”

  He laughed and Thea grinned back. She opened the box, and he said, “Uh, Thea, you’re gonna have to give me a minute, here. Unlike your toy, you can’t just plug me in and expect instant service.”

  She shrugged. “All right.”

  She put the box on the bedside table and sat cross-legged beside him. A moment of silence passed, broken by the tap-tap-tap of the foil packet on her thumbnails.

  “Jeez, why don’t you whip out a stopwatch?” he complained.

  “I can see the clock from here,” she pointed out, then giggled. “Sorry. You must think I’m an awful slut. Can I help it if I want my turn?”

  “You’ll get your turn,” he growled, and pounced, burying his head between her sweet-smelling thighs.

  She was wet and hot and salty-sweet, and she made the most delightful noises in the back of her throat as he worked her with his tongue and lips and fingers. He felt her fingers trailing through his hair, cupping his neck, drifting down—

  Oh my God!

  He jerked back. “That’s enough,” he said roughly.

  “Wh-what?” Her breasts were heaving and she put a hand up to brush her bangs out of her eyes. “What’s the matter?”

  He snatched the condom out of her hand, fumbled it out of the packet, and rolled it onto his thick erection.

  “Talk about leaving a girl out in the cold,” she said, trying to tease, but her eyes were large with worry.

  “Just didn’t want to wait anymore, is all.” He grabbed her, flipped her over, pulled her legs apart, and drove into her. Her gasp was almost buried under his groan. He could see the white globes of her gorgeous butt working, rising to meet him, and he kept his hands on her outer thighs, keeping her spread for him. Oh, it was glorious, it was like fucking wet silk, she was—

  She was gone! She had put her hands on the floor and crawled away from him with a sharp jerk. His dick waved indignantly.

  “What the hell?”

  She rolled over, glaring at him from the floor. “You only take me from behind. We’re never made love face to face. It’s because of your back, isn’t it? You’re worried about the scars.”

  “Get back up here,” he said calmly. “Right now.”

  “I decline. You’re a user, Jimmy. Spectacular between the sheets, but a user.” She was standing up, looming over him in naked glory. In the gloom her skin looked like marble; he was facing an enraged goddess: Athena. “You’re using me to get your Faskin, you aren’t staying around once you have what you want, and Doc Thea’s good enough to fuck as long as you’re not face to face. God forbid we actually look in each other’s eyes.”

  She’s right.

  She’s wrong!

  His intellect warred with emotion; emotion won. “You’re so full of shit. You had absolutely no life before I came along. I jazz things up and you know it.”

  “If I wanted jazz, I’d buy a Louie Armstrong record,” she snapped, and despite himself, he had to bite his lip to hide the grin. “Don’t flatter yourself, Dr. Doofus. My life doesn’t need fixing. Yours does. Do you think if I touch one of your scars, I’ll turn to stone? Throw you out? Never let you touch me again?”

  “Jesus, shut up! Are we going to finish this or are you going to play amateur shrink?”

  “Amateur shrink, seeing as how you’ve finally given me a choice about something. Your scars are no big deal. They wouldn’t matter to me if they were all over your face.”

  He stepped off the bed and seized her by the shoulders. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” he snarled. “Pray you never find out.”

  He thrust her away from him. He didn’t dare touch her again. His hands wanted to fly up and slap the shit out of her. Wanted to yank her hair and make her scream and stop that talk about scarred faces being no big deal. He cast about frantically for his pants, terrified he would hurt her before he could escape.

  Suddenly, the world was whirling denim as his Levi’s smacked him in the face. “Don’t let the door hit you in the gluteus maximus on the way out,” she said. She spun him around, braced her hands—

  His inner child, the voice of the ten-year-old he’d once been, screamed. She’s touching my back! Don’t, it’ll hurt, stop hurting me!

  —and shoved. Good thing the bedroom door was open, or he would have broken his nose.

  “Tomorrow’s going to be a fun day at the office,” he said angrily.

  “I quit!”

  The bedroom door slammed in his face. He stepped into his jeans—thank God his keys were still in the pockets—and debated whether to go after his shirt and socks.

  He heard a whump! and guessed she’d thrown herself on the bed. Muffled sobs drifted out into the hallway. He leaned his head on the door for a good minute, listening, but didn’t dare go in. His hands might get away from him. Bad enough his mouth already had.

  He turned around and left. It had started to rain, which was just as well, because he wouldn’t have to wonder if raindrops were running down his face, or something else.

  Chapter Twelve

  He pulled her to him and cuddled her against his side. His hand slipped down and cupped one of her breasts, gently testing the weight. “Thea, darling, I wanted you the moment I laid eyes on you. As the guy in the Gillette commercials said, ‘I liked you so much, I bought the company!’”

  She sighed as his thumb rubbed across her nipple, coaxing it to stiffness. “Really?”

  “Of course, really.” He leaned down and brushed her lips with his. “Did you ever doubt it?”

  “Frankly, yes.”

  “Dr. Foster!”

  “What?”

  “I didn’t say anything,” Jimmy said with a contented sigh. “Let’s play hooky and have sex all day.”

  “Dr. Foster!”

  “I’d—I’d love to. I think we already did. Look how low the sun is.”

  He dropped a kiss to her temple, then shrieked in her face, “Open the door right now!”

  She gasped and sat bolt upright. The sun really was low. She was alone, and someone—it sounded like Jessica—was pounding and kicking the door.

  “IQ, if you’ve been killed or murdered in there, I am calling the police! So you better answer the door!”

  She bolted from the bed, snatched the robe from the back of the bedroom door, shrugged into it, and raced down the hallway. She unlocked her front door and jerked it open, then had to dodge Jessica’s pounding fist.

  “Oh, thank God. Finally!”

  “What?” she snapped.

  “What, what? You haven’t missed a day of work. Ever. Ever-ever. Th
e team was worried about you, so I offered to check on you. Are you sick?”

  “Sick of work,” she said pointedly, and started to swing the door shut Jessica jammed her foot into the gap, then shouldered her way past. Bemused, Thea let her. “Did you know your house smells like tuna?”

  “He fixed supper for me.” Then she slapped her hands over her eyes and cried like a child, for the first time since—well, last night.

  “Jeez,” Jessica said, impressed. She pushed the cup of tea closer to Thea.

  “I’m sorry to burden you with my troubles.”

  “I don’t mind that. You’re the best boss I ever had; I want you to be happy.”

  “I’m the only boss you ever had.”

  “Never mind. It’s just… I gotta say, I didn’t know you could cry. And over that weirdo, Dr. Scrye? Bizarre!”

  “I can’t believe I was so stupid. I actually thought he liked me for me. Not because of what I could do for him. Or to him,” she added bitterly, thinking of the bottle of Scope.

  “Look, he probably freaked out because you were getting too close. I’m sure he adores you. God knows he was an absolute beast at the office today.”

  She perked up. “Really?”

  Jessica raised her pinkies and linked them together in a cross. “Swear. He was a total asshole. He made Marshall cry! Told him he couldn’t pull off the purple pantsuit because it was a fall color.”

  Thea slammed her fist on the table. “Bastard,” she hissed.

  “Right. Anyway. I’m glad you’re OK. Relatively speaking. Um… there’s a rumor… I’m sure it’s not true, but the team made me promise to—”

  “Yes, I resigned. I’m very sorry, but I cannot work for that man another day. Another minute.”

  “Well, will you let us know where you get work? And if you’ll be budgeted for a team?”

  “You don’t need to leave on my account,” she protested. “Anodyne will be in the black again soon. There’s plenty of work left.”

  “We’d rather work with you. It’s like…”Jessica’s eyes went faraway. “Like you make us more than we are. Like you’re so smart, you’ve got brains to spare for the rest of us. And as a result we work better. We are better.”