MaryJanice Davidson - UC Anthology - Sweet Strangers

by UC Anthology(lit)

  She laughed and kissed his knuckles. He felt like doing a cartwheel, sore 'nads and all. "So I'm forgiven?"

  "On a trial basis. But when you're feeling better, we're going to have a serious talk on why it's not nice to deceive women with good aim."

  "Actually, I figured that out all on my own." He gingerly felt his swollen nose.

  Jennifer poked her head into the office. "Everything settled, then?"

  "For now."

  Jennifer walked in and sat down behind her desk. "Well." She smiled up at Eric and extended a delicate paw. The nails were long, spade-shaped, and pearly pink. "I don't believe we've met."

  "Eric Axelrod."

  "Jennifer Hildebrandt. How in the world did you know where to find Renee?"

  "Good question," Renee said. "I can't believe I didn't think of it."

  "Long day? "Jennifer suggested.

  "Long week. Well, Eric? Did you bug my—ohh-hhh, wait."

  He started to sidle toward the door. "Now, Renee. I only did it because I have your best interests at heart."

  "Stop trying to wriggle away, coward. Stand there and take my wrath like a man. You figured out a way to download my e-mail from the Web, didn't you?"

  Jennifer's brows arched. "A neat trick."

  "He used to be a spook," Renee explained.

  "Please," he said, offended. "We prefer the term Super Studly Spies."

  "So after you and Peter bumped fists, you took off for your hotel room, hooked up your laptop—"

  "Thankfully, it was the one piece of my equipment that escaped your fury."

  "Only because I didn't see it, buster. Then you used one of your spook pals to get into my e-mail, found Jennifer's message, and came here, figuring I'd do the same. I'm just glad Pete Random didn't think of it, too."

  "He's at the ER, getting stitches." Eric inclined his head modestly, then jerked it back as she made a sudden move toward his face.

  "Easy, pal," she said, sounding amused. "I was going to hand you this." She pressed a fresh Kleenex into his hand. "You're kind of disgusting right now, with all that dried blood all over your face."

  "Oh, I don't know," Hildebrandt murmured.

  Renee glared at her. "So what now?"

  "A fine question. Do you have PaceIC on your person?"

  "No, but it's somewhere safe."

  "You left it somewhere?" he practically yelped.

  "I didn't know what kind of situation I was walking into here," Renee explained. "For all I knew, Jennifer's e-mail was a fake."

  "True enough," Jennifer acknowledged. "But PaceIC is somewhere accessible?"

  "Sure."

  "Well," Jennifer said, "you've got a decision to make. You can destroy it, and Dr. Jekell will have no reason to keep chasing you."

  "And presumably, Dr. Foster can make more," Renee added.

  "Correct. Or you can take it back to Anodyne. Or you can take it to another biotech firm."

  Renee hesitated. "I don't know about that. I mean, we know Jekell's up to no good, but to take company property and give it to another… that's pretty rotten."

  "I guess that depends on your definition of rotten."

  Eric raised an eyebrow. "Do tell."

  Jennifer stood, and began to pace behind her desk. Since there was only about four square feet behind her, the effect was claustrophobic on her audience, to say the least. "What's Dr. Jekell's motivation? That's the question on everyone's mind. So how best to find out?"

  "Uh…" Eric crumpled up the Kleenex and tossed it in the wastebasket. "Ask him?"

  "I must have hit you a lot harder than I thought," Renee said kindly. "Either that, or you never met the guy. He won't tell us shit. You could stick your gun in his ear, and he wouldn't tell us shit. What about your e-mail trick? Can you do the same with Jekell's work e-mail?"

  "You think he's dumb enough to e-mail his plans back and forth on Anodyne's server?"

  "Not dumb enough. Arrogant enough. He's told lies about me and he's got half the world chasing me. What's a little indiscretion on top of that?"

  "Good point," he admitted. "But the thing is, downloading your stuff was a one-time-only favor. I can't play that card again."

  "Why not?" Renee asked.

  "Let's just say I saved the life of a higher-up. And I had one favor to call in because of that. Well, I cashed the chip."

  "To find me?"

  "Sure." Besides, he'd probably save the life of another member of the royal family one of these days, get another favor. And even if he didn't—well, it was worth it.

  Renee squeezed his hand affectionately. Unfortunately, it was his bruised hand, and he tried not to yelp. "Well," she said thoughtfully, "I suppose we could go into the belly of the beast."

  "You mean Anodyne?"

  "No, my grandma's house. Of course Anodyne. Try to find out what Jekell's motive is, and figure out what to do with PaceIC from there."

  "I heard none of this," Jennifer informed them. "No indeed. Breaking and entering and violating privacy? I work for the FDA, not the FBI."

  "Then we'll take our illicit chitchat elsewhere," Renee said haughtily.

  "Please. And, Renee—should you decide Anodyne is not the place for PaceIC, do give me a call. There are several local manufacturers who would love to crank it out into the market."

  "How would they even know about it?" Renee asked.

  "Freedom of Information Act?" Eric guessed.

  "That," Hildebrandt said, "and the fact that I'm a terrible gossip. Jekell burned a lot of bridges, and he's trampled a lot of careers. Plenty of people in this business are itching for some payback."

  She said it so coldly, Eric and Renee glanced at each other, a little alarmed.

  "Jeez," Renee said, sounding impressed.

  "Don't fuck with government bureaucrats," Hildebrandt said solemnly. "We'll tear out your spleen and eat it in front of you."

  * * *

  Chapter Nine

  « ^ »

  "This is nuts," Renee muttered.

  "Pretty much, yes."

  "We're going to get caught."

  "Doubtful. And even if we are, it'll be harder for Jekell and his evil minions to disappear both of us."

  They were hiding under a conference table on the executive level, second floor, east wing. Jekell's office was six doors down. Renee's access card no longer worked, of course, but she knew all the building's weak points, and the timing of the security sweeps. Breaking in had been fairly simple. And at this hour—early evening—there were few people in the building. The cleanup crew, and some lab personnel. Certainly none of the executives worked much past five o'clock.

  They were listening to the hmmm-whoop of the cleanup crew vacuuming the suite. The crew was in Jekell's office now, and once they left…

  "Just think," Eric whispered in her ear. "This time tomorrow you could have your life back."

  "Doubtful."

  He propped himself up on an elbow and looked at her. "Why?"

  "You think Jekell's going to say, 'Just kidding!' and give me my job back? Either way, I'm out of work, and I can forget about any kind of reference. Plus, he's spread lies about me all over the place. Tough to undo that. I'll never work in biotech again, that's for sure."

  "If we can figure out what he's up to and get the story out… well, this is the decade of the whistle-blower. Maybe you'll get your picture on the cover of Time magazine."

  "Maybe I'd just as soon eat my own vomit."

  "Publicity shy, eh? Well, I bet Jennifer Hildebrandt could help you out."

  "Ugh. No thanks. I mean, she's nice and all, but I'd just as soon not be known as 'the funny one.'"

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Oh, come on. Did Random punch you in both eyes? She's about the prettiest woman I've ever seen."

  "Oh." Her eyes had adjusted to the near dark, and she could see him frown. "I guess so. If you like that type."

  "The gorgeous, thin blond type with great knockers," she said dryly. "Don't tell me you
didn't notice."

  "Renee, I was worried about you. Hildebrandt could have been a six-hundred-pound iguana for all I cared."

  She stared at him. He sounded serious. He locked serious. Was he really so into her that he didn't notice a beauty queen, not even when she was right under his nose?

  "Besides," he continued, "if nothing else, you can come and work for me."

  "Oh, really?"

  "Mm-hmm. Of course, constant nudity would be a given. I'd stick it—"

  "Careful."

  "—in the first line of your job description."

  She rolled her eyes, but before she could retort, he had pulled her toward him and wrapped his arms around her. He kissed the top of her head and murmured, "I was very worried about you this afternoon."

  "You deserved to be." She tried to sound tough and uncompromising—sort of a Drew-Barrymore-during-the-married-to-Tom-Green-years tone—but he smelled great And his arms around her felt so good. She could go to sleep in these arms. Ah, sleep… how good would that be? Just to snuggle up to this man and doze off knowing everything was all right, knowing she was safe. "How d'you think I felt, hearing that Random was waiting for me right outside your hotel?"

  "I'm sorry," he said soberly. He dropped a kiss to her brow. She could still hear the crew vacuuming; it was a faraway drone and, tired as she was, weirdly soothing. "I should have told you the truth right away. I was afraid. A stupid, stupid mistake."

  "Also, you look like a monkey and you smell like one, too."

  "Let's not get carried away." Now he was trailing kisses down her face and nuzzling into the hollow of her throat. "Ummm… what's that you've got on?"

  "Eau de Fugitive," she said dryly, then gasped laughter as he nuzzled a ticklish spot. "Quit it! This is neither the time nor—"

  "Actually, it's the perfect time; we're just sitting here—well, lying here—waiting. And as for places, I could think of worse ones than on the warm, carpeted floor of an empty conference room."

  "You're still on probation, pal."

  "Let me see if I can get on the parole officer's good side." He tugged on her shirt and she heard the pting! pting! of the snaps parting. He sucked in an appreciative breath when he realized she hadn't bothered with the bra this afternoon.

  "I didn't have time for underpants, either," she said, reading his mind. She grinned when he groaned. "Hey, time was of the essence. I had to beat feet out of there—I figured you were running upstairs with Random and his goons."

  "Please stop talking about Peter Random while I'm trying to seduce you."

  "Why? He's so tall, so strong, so—er—hairy." She sucked in a breath as he tongued her nipple. "I'd like to protest again for the record, but, frankly, if you stop doing that, I'll toss another book in your face."

  "I hear and obey." His tongue was rasping across the sensitive flesh of her nipples, pausing occasionally to suckle and dart and jab, and then he was kissing her cleavage. "God, you smell like wild roses."

  "I think that's hotel soap."

  He groaned again, the sound muffled against her flesh. "You're killing me."

  "How is your nose, by the way?"

  "Who cares?"

  "Tell you what," she said, wriggling against him, rapidly unbuttoning his shirt and squirming out of her own, "I'll stop with the one liners if you shut up and fuck me. I assume you brought condoms this time?"

  "Why yes, I did! They're still in my pocket from when I went downstairs to get your clothes."

  She felt him, her fingers deftly slipping into his pockets. "Jeez. Are those six boxes of condoms in your pockets, or are you just happy to see me?"

  He was laughing and struggling out of his clothes while she kissed and bit and licked everywhere she could reach, and they wrestled together while shushing each other. In moments, they were nude and sliding against each other as if they'd been intimate partners for years. In their haste, they tore through the first two condoms they tried to open.

  "Calm down," Eric said, still laughing, "you're going to wreck them all."

  "You calm down. Stupid foil thingies—ah!" She pulled one, intact, from its packet and gently rolled it on, savoring his throbbing length. "Hey, neat Ribbed for my pleasure."

  "I live to serve."

  One ear cocked for the vacuum cleaner, she crossed her ankles behind his back as he surged forward. Just touching him was a pure pleasure; he was lithe and muscular, with the broad shoulders of a swimmer. Her hands slipped and slid all over him, groping; she could never, ever touch him enough.

  She knew she was ready and he knew it as well. There was no need for anything more, not even words. She arched to meet him as he parted her with his fingers and pushed inside. It was like being entered by an ideal, a dream—a dream hung like a stallion, frankly; she could practically feel him in her throat. He slid and pushed and thrust and she tightened her grip, arched her back to meet him, and for a long while there was only their harsh breathing, the sound their stomachs made, clapping together, and the vrrrrrr-mmmmmmm of the vacuum six doors down.

  His hands were in fists on either side of her head and he was panting, groaning, into her neck. They fit perfectly. It was really quite miraculous.

  She slid her hands over his shoulders, down his back, over his taut buttocks, marveling at the feel of him, the smell of him, the way he was nearly helpless in her embrace, so intent on having her he'd blocked out everything else. She realized he was whispering her name over and over as he pushed inside her again and again.

  She could feel the muscles flexing in his butt as he worked over her, could see the sheen of sweat on his forehead, and over all that, more wonderful than all that, he was still whispering her name.

  Renee gently bit his earlobe, and sighed when he shuddered above her. He pulled back, then licked her lower lip and slipped his tongue into her mouth. At the same time, he put his hands on her thighs, spread her apart, and then stroked her clit with his thumb while just below, his cock reared and plunged and took.

  The sudden sensation swamped her and she would have screamed, but his mouth was bruising now, possessing, taking, and the only sound that escaped was a muffled moan. And still he stroked and teased until she was shaking, until she was coming, until she saw dark stars exploding before her eyes, until he stiffened above her and stopped breathing for a long moment.

  "Oh."

  "That's it? Oh?"

  "How about, oh, God, put it in me again?"

  He chuckled in her ear. They were lying on their sides on the carpet, curled up like spoons in a drawer. "I think I'm going to need a few minutes."

  "That's all right, I think I'm going to need a day and a half." She sighed and nuzzled the hairs on his forearm. "What a week."

  "Say you love me," he ordered.

  "Babe, I don't even know you."

  "Well, I don't know you, but I'm so in love with you I'm sick with it."

  "That's flattering. Can we compromise and say I love your dick?"

  "You have no soul," he grumbled.

  "Eric, can I ask you something?"

  "Of course."

  "Why'd you leave the NSA?"

  He was silent for a long moment, and then replied, "To be honest, I didn't want to be a code-breaker or a codemaker anymore. This is going to sound dumb—"

  "I'm not surprised," she interrupted, hoping for a smile.

  "Ho-ho. Well, a couple months ago, my neighbor's husband turned up missing. And she was going out of her mind trying to find him. She was upset, the kids were upset, the guy's boss was calling every other day—a real mess. The cops weren't much help—DC is a big place, with a lot of problems.

  "So I felt sorry for her and did some digging, and it turned out her husband had been mugged, had his wallet stolen, then been in a car accident. He was OK, but he had his brains rattled pretty good and the hospital didn't have any ID. Anyway, long story short, I found him. And—well, it was just really satisfying. Reuniting them. I know that working for the NSA means being part of a bigger purpose
, but I don't see anything wrong with being part of a smaller purpose. Not if you can help out a nice lady once in a while. That's all."

  "Huh. Well, good for you. A lot of people are stuck in jobs they hate. And they never, never change, because inertia is easier."

  "Yes, not everyone is lucky enough to be framed for theft and then fired," he said cheerfully. "To be continued, hopefully in a proper bed later this evening. I don't hear the vacuum anymore."

  She started guiltily. Jesus! For a moment—well, for about fifteen minutes—she'd forgotten why they were there. She really was getting Too Stupid to Live.

  They dressed in the darkened room and climbed out from under the table, but before she could get to her feet he grabbed her and kissed her on the mouth, a hearty smack. "Say it," he ordered.

  "I love your dick," she replied obediently.

  He sighed and released her. "We'll talk later."

  "About your dick?" she asked brightly.

  "You're killing me, Renee…" He stepped to the door, but before he could open it, someone in the hall did it for him.

  * * *

  Chapter Ten

  « ^ »

  Renee would have shouted in surprise, but for the hand Eric clapped over her mouth. So what escaped was, "Gmmph!"

  An extraordinarily tall woman was framed in the doorway. She would have been striking in stocking feet, but her pumps and the hair piled on top of her head made her easily over six feet. She was wearing a white lab coat that fell past her knees, cat's-eyeglasses, and a gold pin of some sort on her left lapel.

  Gold pin… wait just a minute.

  "Dr. Foster!" Except Eric was still muffling her with his hand, so what came out was, "Dgguh Uzzuh!"

  "Renee," the other woman said, and nodded.

  Eric slowly let go of her mouth, then grabbed her hand and tucked it into the crook of his elbow. "Uh… we were just…"

  Dr. Foster's assessing gaze missed nothing.

  Renee fought the urge to shuffle her feet and duck her head. She could just imagine what Dr. Foster was seeing: They were mussed, disheveled, and reeked of sex. And to be caught by IQ, of all people! The original Ice Queen!