Geek Actually Season 1 Omnibus

by Cathy Yardley

  “Virgin Geek Boy, this is real.”

  She loved his smile and it spread as he laughed, his fingers not missing a notch along her bare back. “I did some reading.”

  “Of course.”

  “I can last milliseconds or not come at all.”

  “At all?” she asked, confused.

  “Years of conditioning… from my hand.”

  “I can’t believe you just confessed that.”

  “I’m talking myself into a state of non-embarrassment.”

  She kissed his chin. “You’ll be the norm.”

  “Norm?”

  “A few minutes. We’ll build up your stamina. You’ll be on a learning curve.”

  His eyes seemed to darken. “Does that make you the schoolmarm who teaches me everything?”

  “Sex fantasies already?”

  He shifted, his dick a hard reminder between them. “I’ve had them since the moment your eyes lit up at math equations and board games.”

  Taneesha was going to fuck the ever-loving shit out of him. She pushed his shoulder and climbed him to straddle his lap. “Hold on. Condom.”

  She reached over to her nightstand and Diego touched her, using his hands and mouth. It wasn’t an expert touch, but he made up for it with enthusiasm. She had no doubt she’d teach him what she loved, what turned her off. Likely all tonight. She loved the way his lids lowered as she covered his cock with the rubber. They were ready. Her hands weren’t steady, nor was her stomach.

  “I can’t help but feel I should be making this more special for you.”

  He cupped her breast and rubbed his stubble against it. “What do you think I need? An opera singer? Vets playing taps outside the door?”

  She placed her free hand over his mouth, a laugh bubbling out. “I promise that when I think you’re about to come, I’ll chant ‘finish him’ in a low voice.”

  Taneesha gripped his shaft and, so very slowly, lowered herself onto it. His eyes closed as he grunted. When she rocked her hips, he found her mouth.

  “Seconds,” he gritted out. I’m going to be that kind of guy.”

  Heat coiled in her chest. She tightened her inner muscles, reveling at the way his fingers dug into her hips. Diego flushed and panting was a sight to behold. His hips arched up in a rapid, wild rhythm.

  She leaned forward, brushing her mouth along his earlobe. “Finish him.”

  He laughed as he came. It was perfect.

  MICHELLE

  One never forgot the routine of smoking. Definitely not Michelle. She slapped the pack against her palm. She unwrapped the plastic covering and then lifted the flap. God bless her assistant. She hadn’t asked any questions when Michelle had sent her off to find her a pack of cigarettes. All that mattered was that at this very moment, in her office where proverbially everything was on fire around her, smelling an empty pack wasn’t going to hold her over. She wouldn’t smoke them. She hoped. But she needed the fresh scent of nicotine to get her through the next few hours at work.

  She’d fucked up big time with Aditi. The only person she had to blame was herself. Work pressure was an easy excuse. Her boss, the authors she had to make happy, the whole publicity run had all tightened a noose around her neck.

  But the question was when hadn’t work come first? It hadn’t been the sole demise of her marriage, but it hadn’t helped. Had it not been for work she might not have had a husband to easily forget. They would have never crossed paths or had something in common over which to connect.

  She inhaled deeper and closed her eyes, waiting for the fresh scent to soothe her.

  It didn’t. She opened the pack, pulled out a cigarette, and then grabbed her phone. It felt good walking out of the building during work hours. The muggy air wrapped around her but she ignored it and dialed her sister’s number.

  “Miche?” Christina answered.

  In the background she could hear what she imagined a set sounded like when on break. There was a murmur of voices, some occasional yelling. “Do you have a moment? Probably longer than that.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “I screwed up with Aditi.”

  “Is this news?”

  Michelle’s laugh turned bitter. “I guess not.”

  “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but you called me. I’m only going to give it to you straight.”

  “I know. So lay it on me.”

  “We’ve been telling you for months to back off from Aditi. You know how she is. Quite frankly, we’ve been nice about it.”

  Michelle’s shoulders tensed and the knee-jerk reaction to defend herself crawled up her throat. But for once, she kept her mouth closed to listen.

  “Nothing?” Christina asked.

  “Keep going.”

  “You are in a bad place.”

  “Aditi’s my friend.”

  “You forgot that.”

  Michelle lifted her head up, but in the shadow of the building, no sun could find her. “I know.”

  “Do you? Do you really see that you weren’t just a crap friend? This is the kind of stuff that breaks trust. The next time one of us is in need, are you going to talk about what you need at work first?”

  “You’ll be happy to know I don’t have a plan on how to fix this. I’ve never…”

  “You’ve made mistakes before, though getting you to admit to them is like pulling teeth. You don’t need a plan. What you need is to understand how you messed up and make moves to fix it. Start with a phone call. Or, better yet, start with a text to see if Aditi has time to talk. If she wants to yell at you, let her.”

  “And if she doesn’t want to talk to me?”

  “Then it’s a bed you made. Do better in the future. But I doubt she’ll be pissed at you forever.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “You’re not half bad when you’re not trying to run someone’s life.”

  A thought hit her and she gasped. “Oh, God. Have I turned into Mom?”

  “There is still hope for you.”

  “Since I’m confessing, I’m holding a cig.”

  “It doesn’t count. It’s still legal.”

  “I don’t think I’m twenty feet away from a door.”

  “Better, but don’t smoke it. You were horrible when you tried to quit last time. We don’t need that Michelle again.”

  “How did I screw this up?”

  “You forgot the simple tenet that friends are everything.”

  Michelle let those words sink into her. “How are you?”

  “I have maybe two more minutes of free time and it’s not enough.”

  She smiled. “Call me whenever. I’ll pick up.”

  “See. You’re getting it.” There was a long pause. “Also, I’m going to put it to the group that Aditi gets to yell at you once a month. Apparently it works.”

  “You’ve already talked to her?”

  “She talked to Taneesha then Taneesha relayed that to me. Give her about a day before you hit her up. She’s… going through some things at the moment.”

  “I need to let this settle on me and not try to fix it immediately to make myself feel better.”

  “You did that by calling me first. It’s the right step. Anyway, the boss bellows. Gotta go.”

  Michelle ended the call and just stood there, sniffing the cigarette, until she could face work again.

  Geek, Actually

  Season 1, Episode 12

  System Failure

  Cecilia Tan

  ELLI

  The giant banner stretched all the way across the hotel atrium, the swirly purple lettering twinkling from embedded LEDs: WELCOME TO FAIRY CON. At last! The promised land. The lobby was already teeming with people, many of them in costume, or at least in con-going garb, letting their geek flags fly. Three little girls dressed as Elsa, Tiana, and Mulan ran across her path, giggling as they went, followed quickly by a harried-looking couple with matching crowns. Elli couldn’t wait to join them in the fun. She tiredly pulled her rolling suitc
ase across the atrium, her other hand cramping under the weight of the garment bag she held by the hangers. The shoulder bag she’d balanced on top of the suitcase chose that moment to slip off, and she came to a stop to try to rearrange everything. If only fairy wings were actually as weightless as spider silk. Cosplay was a heavy hobby.

  To one side of the lobby she could see the immense line to check in to the hotel, to the other, the equally large line at the registration tables for the con. She really wanted to get her badge in time to get to the Steven Universe meet-up, but dragging all her luggage with her was going to be impossible.

  Maybe they’d let me just leave the stuff under the registration table? It’s only for a little while. I’d come right back to get it after the meet-up…

  A male voice came from behind her. “Ahem. Elli?”

  She turned to see a near-perfect recreation of Mr. Tumnus from the Narnia movies, except for the fact that he was six feet tall. Cosplay only went so far, after all. “Yes! It’s me! Tyler, is that you?”

  “It is.” He stroked his beard. “Like the new whiskers?”

  She hugged him, happy to see a familiar face. “Ah, they’re perfect! Are they real or—?”

  “They’re real,” he assured her with a warm smile. “My natural color, even. I wasn’t sure if it was you! Last time I saw you, you were wearing a blue wig, and I’m a little face-blind.”

  His legs were covered in plush fur, ending in realistic-looking hooves, while on his upper body, all he wore was a ribbon around his bicep and a pan flute on a leather cord. “Oh! Your horns match your hooves! They look real, too!” she exclaimed.

  “They are real,” he said, chuckling. “Feel them.”

  She reached out and ran her fingertips along the horns sprouting from his forehead. “Where did you get the material? Is it actual bone? And where’s Del?”

  “Oh, ah.” He grimaced. “Del and I split up.”

  Elli gave him a sharp look. “You mean… she’s off seeing the dealer’s room or something, right?”

  “No, alas. I mean we aren’t a couple anymore,” Tyler said with a sigh. “I wasn’t even going to come to the con. I’ve been so depressed, and I know I’m going to run into her here. But then I thought maybe getting out of the house would still be the best thing for me. See all my con friends.”

  “Like me!” Elli enthused, giving him another hug. “You poor thing.”

  “Now, the other reason I came over to see you,” he said, eyeing Elli’s luggage, heaped around her feet. “They told us at the volunteer info meeting that we’re not supposed to block the way.” He bowed at the waist. “May I be of assistance toting your things elsewhere?”

  “Oh, yes, um.” Ah, so that’s why the safety-orange ribbon didn’t match the rest of his costume. It designated him as a con volunteer. “I should try to check in to my room and get my badge, but I really want to make it to a meet-up that starts in half an hour. How long do you think that registration line will take?”

  “How about this,” he said, picking up the garment bag, slinging it over his shoulder, and exposing his full chest. Elli supposed his copious, curly chest hairs were real, too. “I’ll help you get this stuff over there and then I’ll go hold a place for you in the registration line so you can zip right up.”

  “Oh, my goodness, that is so nice of you! But shouldn’t you be helping everyone, not just me?”

  Tyler grinned. “My formal volunteer shift doesn’t start for a while yet. I may as well lend you a hand while I can. Where’s the rest of the gang? Are you at the con alone?”

  “Yes. Unfortunately.” Don’t think about Ruby, don’t think about Ruby…

  “And I did volunteer so that I could be helpful!” He led her toward the front desk. “Let’s try to make it happen.”

  “You are magic, Tyler.”

  “I know.”

  MICHELLE

  Friday night. Finally. Michelle plopped down her bag and things on the kitchen counter and went straight into the bedroom to get dressed and brush out her hair. No girly curls tonight. She was going for the bitch-queen bun. Mistress Buffy was throwing a party, and the only men there would be submissive.

  She looked herself over in the mirror. She had been aiming for a sort of boardroom look, with a blazer and pencil skirt over fishnets. But she had missed the mark.

  I look like a demented librarian.

  On second thought, maybe demented librarian would work. She thickened up her eyeliner just a touch and told herself not to second-guess herself.

  Twenty minutes later, she was exiting a rideshare SUV at a private loft owned by one of the women in Mistress Buffy’s femdom group. A man in a brushed silk, button-down shirt and slacks greeted her at the door. If not for the leather collar around his neck, she might have worried she was at the wrong place. He introduced himself as Slave Eric and gave her a quick orientation to the place. From what Michelle could see, it was a fairly swanky, well-kept apartment. “Main playrooms are through there, the kitchen is straight through the living room and is a non-play space, and there are two bathrooms. The half-bath over here,” he gestured to the right, “is a non-play space, whereas the big one through there is a wet-play area.”

  “Oh, Eric, she can figure all that out for herself!” Mistress Buffy seized Michelle in a hug. “You look fabulous! I’m so glad you came. And you’re just in time,” Buffy enthused. Her blonde hair was gorgeously styled, like a Hollywood starlet from the 1950s, and she was wearing a black-and-white corset and skirt ensemble emblazoned with images and quotes from Alice in Wonderland. “We’re opening champagne for my birthday and having cake.”

  “Okay, should I—”

  But before Michelle could ask if Buffy needed any help pouring the champagne or cutting the cake, she heard the distinctive pop of a champagne cork. Two men in bow ties and G-strings came out of the kitchen with the cake already lit with candles, and everyone gathered around Buffy. All told, there looked to be maybe a dozen couples, three or four unattached women, and half a dozen unattached men.

  While the assembled sang “Happy Birthday” to her, Buffy plucked one of the candles out of the icing and dripped colorful wax up the cake-bearer’s arm. Then she blew out the candles, to much applause. Michelle couldn’t help but smile at the sight of a woman exuding such enthusiasm, such power.

  She’s like a queen.

  “All right, all right. Since it’s my birthday, I have some gifts to give out.” Mistress Buffy waved the man who had opened the champagne over to her. He was a strapping specimen, biceps like Arnold Schwarzenegger and abs worthy of a romance novel cover. Mistress Buffy snapped her fingers and he got down on all fours. The short woman kicked off her heels and stood on his back so everyone could see and hear her. The man who still had candle wax on his forearm brought her a bag.

  “We’re doing this the hobbit way, okay? Where the birthday girl gives out the gifts,” Buffy announced. “Mistress Diana! Isn’t she here? There you are. Come on up.”

  A tall woman made even taller by her boots approached. “Oh, goodness, what do you have for me?”

  “Well, since your new beau is from Texas, I thought you might need this. They break horses there, don’t they?” Mistress Buffy held up a bridle with a rubber bit.

  “Ohhh, perfect! Thank you!” Diana took the tack and gestured to a man standing at the rear of the group. He was wearing a well-tailored beige business suit with a bolo tie. His clothes didn’t prevent her from getting the bit into his mouth and strapping the rest to his head, though. He accepted the bondage gracefully and then followed his mistress to the back of the room once again.

  Buffy then pulled on something long and straight sticking out of the bag. “This is for the new girl. Misha, come here.”

  Right, that’s me!

  Michelle scooted to the front, her cheeks burning at being singled out unexpectedly.

  “To get your toy collection started,” Buffy said, handing her a long flexible staff made of Lucite. “Here’s a cane.”


  A cane, right, a cane, Michelle thought as she stammered, “Thank you. You shouldn’t have.”

  “Oh, honey, there’s so much I shouldn’t have. Just wait.” Buffy gave her a wink.

  TANEESHA

  Taneesha checked through the window when the doorbell rang. It was the pizza delivery guy, all right, the same one who had brought the entire truckload of pizzas when the trolls had pranked her. She opened the door and he smiled. “One pepperoni with extra cheese,” he said with emphasis, pulling the box out of the insulated carrying case. “Having a quiet night in?”

  “Yep, thanks.” She accepted the box and handed him a couple of dollar bills as a tip. “Netflix binge here I come.”

  “Enjoy it,” he said with a wave, and then headed back to his truck. Taneesha closed the door and watched through the window until he drove away. Just making sure he left and that no one messed with him. No sign of troll activity. Good.

  She set the box on the coffee table and reached for her vibrating phone. There was a text from Diego: Kill me now. Why did I agree to host this Settlers tournament?

  She texted back: Their money’s green and you’re secretly a masochist?

  His reply was a simple LOLLL.

  While she dug into the pizza, she browsed the Netflix offerings. Nothing was jumping out at her. She’d finished Sense8 a couple of days before, and now she wasn’t sure what to start. Eventually she looked through the Amazon video streams, and when she didn’t find anything there to interest her either, she ended up browsing recent anime on Crunchyroll. What was that one Elli had been going on about? Yuri!!! on Ice?

  Maybe I should just watch old Johnny Weir skating performances on YouTube…

  Her eyes went to the screen on her desk instead of the one on the wall. She’d gotten a clocked-up PC specifically for gaming at home, and she had barely touched it since the whole thing with Steven had blown up. Kind of ironic, since while she was suspended from going to the office she could have been binge-gaming to her heart’s content.

  But now that was blowing over. Wasn’t it?

  Maybe I could just check…

  She logged in and fired up her blood elf mage. It had been a while since she’d done a solo quest. Before long, an elven leader had given her instructions to go eliminate Alliance spies from a nearby mountain, and she sank comfortably into killing them while ignoring the avatars of other players flickering by on the screen. A lot of the solo questers were newbies and just focused on leveling up. She just didn’t want to deal with anyone, in or out of her guild. Sinking back into game play was soothing, pinging all the neglected parts of her brain. Yes, she had missed this.