All Through the Night

by Mixed authors

  “The volume of your voice went down. You’re either talking very softly or you’ve moved away. Come on back. I won’t bite… I won’t even lick.”

  “Gee, darn,” she said under her breath.

  He laughed, and finally, she did too. She gave herself another moment and then went back, but only as far as the old leather rocker.

  “We could go on with the tour,” he said, “if you’re ready.”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be.” What a beautiful thing cynicism was. Those sharp-edged scissors kept everyone away except him. But that was only because he wasn’t real, right?

  She went back to her desk and sat down, although she would love to have stretched out in the rocker. A little distance would have felt safer, she was sure.

  “I’d like you to relax and think about something for a minute,” he said. “Think about your sense of touch. What does it mean to you?”

  She closed her eyes and dropped back in the chair. “Everything. I love to touch. I love the feel of things. It’s very sensual, touch.”

  “And being touched? How do you prefer that?”

  “It depends on who’s touching me.”

  “Who would you like to touch you?”

  “Your voice.” She barely had the words out of her mouth before her own voice dropped to a whisper. “I’d like it all over me like a big warm blanket.”

  The husky catch in her throat surprised her. And him, as well. When she opened her eyes, he was staring at her, and he seemed as perplexed as he was intrigued.

  “I don’t seem to be programmed to respond to that,” he said.

  Had she actually shocked him? Good, she didn’t want to be the only one.

  Brightly she asked, “Too bold?”

  “I don’t seem to be programmed to answer that, either.”

  Kerry tilted an eyebrow. “Well, you must know that your voice is amazingly sexy. I probably shouldn’t be saying this, but I have another name for you, besides Jean, I mean.”

  “And what is that?”

  “It’s Mr. Quick-Where’s-My-Vibrator.”

  Was he blushing? Oh, this was fun. His handsome face was now frozen in a perplexed expression, and it appeared that she’d jammed the program. Little Kerry Houston, who’d run from her workplace rather than confront her big bad boss when he had her fired, and who hid from the outside world like a hermit, had just beaten the system! At least she could fluster someone, even if it was only a virtual hunk.

  “Let’s take a deep breath and start over, Kerry. Are you comfortable?”

  Now he was repeating himself!

  “I’m just dandy,” she said. “How are you?”

  He didn’t seem to hear her. “Remember the fantasy I promised you, Kerry, the one that could anticipate your every need, wish and desire? I’m going to need a little more information.”

  Poor Jean. She’d blown his fuses. “I’m not a woman without fantasies, you know. Listen, I have fantasies. I have a few fantasies that might shock you.”

  He appeared to blink and wake up at that point. “Could you name one?” he asked.

  “And I love to touch things, too,” she announced. “Do you know what I really love to touch? Buns, behinds, tushies, cheeks. Not that I go around doing that, but they look so firm and springy.”

  “Kerry—”

  “And my favorite article of men’s clothing? I know you didn’t ask, but in case you’re curious, it’s a belt. Belts are long and leathery and they buckle in the sexiest way. They’re well-placed on a man’s body, if you know what I mean.”

  “Kerry—”

  “Do you know what I mean, Jean? The place I’m thinking of that belts are close to? Do you have a pet name for yours? I like package, myself.”

  “Kerry!”

  “Yes?”

  “I told you that there are two conditions to this journey.”

  “Yes, I remember, that I entrust myself to you, and… hmm—”

  “I didn’t tell you the second one.”

  “Oh… right.”

  “The second condition is that you don’t bluff. You can’t win this game that way. You can’t win this game without being willing to lose it, to give everything away. Do you understand me, Kerry? You have to be willing to give everything away.”

  On some level, Kerry understood exactly what he meant, and now he was talking fantasy. She had worked too hard to make herself safe behind these walls. She couldn’t give an inch, and he wanted everything} Dear God.

  * * *

  Chapter Three

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  “Mmmmmmmm…”

  “Now there’s an interesting sound. You okay, Kerry?”

  “Mmm… mmm… mmm… mmmmmmmmm …”

  “I guess that was a yes?”

  Kerry sighed deeply and felt a ripple of pleasure spiraling toward her toes. She was draped in her chair with her feet up on the desk, and the desire to stretch was so irresistible she made no attempt to fight it. She didn’t even worry how it might look as she arched her back and slowly swiveled her hips, moving her shoulders in a languid counter rhythm. Another moan slipped out, another contented sigh, another kitten purr of pleasure.

  This guy was some tour guide.

  He’d suggested a relaxation exercise before they began, and boy, had it worked. She was as flushed and rosy as if she’d just come out of a steam bath, and there wasn’t a part of her that wasn’t humming.

  She’d been uneasy about the exercise, especially when he told her that it involved hypnosis and that he would be putting her in a light trance. But finally she’d agreed to do it. This was just a game. What could he do to her, after all, besides talk? But, oh, baby, could he talk. The way other men plied you with fine chocolates and kissed your fingertips, that was how he could talk. Astaire danced like he could talk. Sinatra sang. Jean’s voice was steamy stolen kisses in the backseat of an old Chevy. It was fantasy phone sex.

  “Kerry… are you still with me?”

  “I wish,” she murmured. It hardly mattered what the man said—it was all sweet seduction.

  “You wish?”

  “This must be what puff clouds feel like,” she said, releasing another languid sigh. “A little breeze, and I would be on my way, floating, floating… just floating.”

  “What do you wish for, Kerry?”

  “I could just float all day… did I mention I felt like a puff cloud?”

  “Kerry, stay with me, girl.”

  With you? I am so with you, Jean.

  “You said something about a wish.”

  What did she wish for? So many things…

  No, just one. One little thing.

  “Care to share?” he asked.

  “Well, I wish I could move.” She lifted her arm and it flopped back down. “I’m as limp as linguine. That hypnosis was amazing.”

  “It only works with a willing subject.”

  She smiled through drooping lids. “I didn’t know I was that willing. This is a little bit of heaven, this weightless sensation. And I’m so warm. I’ve never been so warm.”

  “You released some tension, and now you’re glowing. Technically, it’s just blood, rushing to the surface.”

  “Glowing, yes, that’s exactly what it feels like.”

  When he’d suggested hypnosis, she’d immediately thought of some guy on a stage, making people bark. But the sounds of a babbling brook and chirping birds had overridden her concerns, and the screen was transformed with kaleidoscopic images of slowly swirling pink clouds, sifting sands and dark green oceans.

  She found it impossible not to watch.

  It was like a peek at infinity.

  Her lids were already heavy when Jean’s voice entered the mix and he suggested she rest her head. She was gone before her eyes closed, but it had seemed as if he were right there, whispering strange, yet deliciously soothing things in her ear and putting her in a trance with his warm breath. His voice ebbed and flowed like a drug in her bloodstream, and even though she couldn
’t recall exactly what he’d said or what she’d done, she was quite certain she’d followed his suggestions without question. That was what you did when you were hypnotized.

  When she came to she was slumped in her chair like a rag doll and sighing out sounds of satisfaction. She was so mellow her sweater socks were down around her ankles and she didn’t even care. But what really fascinated her were the contradictions. Her body felt heavy and light at the same time, relaxed, yet deliciously aroused. Nerve endings twinkled like strings of Christmas lights, but her muscles were as fluid as the music coming from the speakers.

  She’d heard about things like full-body orgasms, but she didn’t think they were possible, especially if you had yet to have one of the garden variety type. The one smart thing she’d done with the string of losers in her life was to not sleep with them. She may have been used, but not in that way. Some protective instinct had kept her from surrendering body and soul to these men, despite their bad boy charm—or maybe because of it.

  Her first boyfriend in college was the closest thing she’d ever had to a grand passion. She’d loved him and wanted to give herself to him, perhaps too soon and for the wrong reason. She’d hoped it would bring them closer, but her own desperation should have warned her what would happen. Brad Styles repaid her trust by having sex with one of Kerry’s girlfriends the night after he’d taken Kerry’s virginity. It was devastating. Most nineteen-year-old coeds would have been able to put it behind them, but for her it was a life sentence because it validated her belief that no man would ever really love her.

  Her father hadn’t. He’d deserted his family when Kerry was a toddler, and her mother’s bitterness had prepared Kerry to expect the worst from men. Even after Paula was gone, Kerry could hear her mother’s warnings, but she didn’t want to believe them. She’d had hope and her whole life ahead of her. Without realizing it, Kerry had desperately wanted Brad to prove her mother wrong—and to prove to Kerry that she was worth loving.

  After that it was users and losers, men who confirmed what her mother had told her. She might not have consciously known it, but Kerry was afraid to take another risk on a good guy and have her heart broken again. It was easier to lock herself off, and when she did become involved, it was with men who acted exactly the way she expected— and believed she deserved.

  With a romantic past like hers, Kerry hadn’t spent a lot of time thinking about orgasmic experiences of any kind. But something had happened here today, something incredible. It felt like someone had switched bodies on her. She tried to bring back a detail or two of the experience, but the only thing she could remember were the feelings. Such wild-ness.

  “Zhhaa—?” She was trying to say his name, but her voice cracked, and she couldn’t clear away the raspiness. Where was her tea? One eye blinked open, and she spotted the cup of Quiet Woman on her desk. Nope. Too far.

  “Yes, Kerry?”

  “Did anything unusual happen while I was under?”

  “Other than the noises?”

  Ah, yes, the noises. Kerry could feel one building in her throat now. She tried to stop it, but her eyelids fluttered, and she flushed even warmer, if that was possible.

  “Mmmmmmmmmmmmrnm… oh, my… oh…”

  “Kerry?” The noise he made was husky with disbelief. “Does that feel as good as it sounds?”

  “Better,” she whispered, “oh, much better. It feels like I want to take my clothes off. I swear it does. Isn’t that amazing?”

  She laughed and flopped her arms wide. “I’m the original abominable snow woman.”

  “Original, maybe. Abominable, never.”

  “Ohhhhhhhhhh, Jean, that is sooo sweet. You’re just an old sweetie pie, that’s what you are. And I’m just so warm and breathless. You wouldn’t mind, would you?”

  “Wouldn’t mind?”

  “If I took something off?” He’d told her not to bluff, but she wasn’t bluffing now. She was glowing, alive, and not the tiniest bit afraid.

  “I don’t think—”

  “Oh, right, I’ll bet you’re not programmed to answer that, are you?” She sighed. “Oh, well, it’ll be okay. You can’t see me anyway… can you?”

  He took too long to answer so she hiked up her heavy fleece dress and purposely flashed some leg as she peeled off one sweater sock. It was the blind man test. If she did something startling right in front of him and got no response, he probably couldn’t see her. Or he was a very smart man.

  “Jean?”

  Nothing. Maybe one sock wasn’t startling enough. She pulled off the other one and dangled the pair in front of the screen, wondering how he’d managed to turn her drafty old town house into a sauna—and her into an exhibitionist.

  Not a twitch from the man. She had to bend forward to get a closer look at the screen, but she couldn’t detect any signs of life at all, even simulated ones. At the very least his eyes should be dilating. Maybe the computer was frozen.

  “That didn’t bother you, did it?” she asked. “By any chance?”

  “Bother me? What was it that should have bothered me?”

  “Uh… nothing.” At least she knew he was there, but she still had no idea whether he could see her or not. He might have been probing for information. This was becoming a challenge.

  “Excuse me, then,” she said, “while I finish with this activity that isn’t bothering you.”

  His sexy mouth hinted at a smile. “Don’t mind me.”

  A definite challenge. Her mind was generating enough watts of suspicion to light up the neighborhood, but she could not crack this guy’s code. Unfortunately, she was really glowing now. Some might have called it perspiring.

  Off with the dress, Alice.

  Years of use had made the crew neck of her dress loose enough to slip off her shoulder. From there she got her arm out—and realized she was dealing with a straitjacket, not a dress. Graceful it wasn’t, but she knew better than to stand up and pull the bulky thing over her head. It was ankle length, and she would be too wobbly. Not to mention exposed. She could just imagine getting stuck, her arms and head inside, the rest of her outside.

  She liberated the other arm and inched the dress down to her behind. It took a near back flip to get it to her ankles. Kicking her feet free was another high point, but it brought more blood rushing to the surface. Her color had to be approaching magenta by now. As she wiped the dampness from her brow, she realized the thermal underwear had to go too, but, then, oops, she would have nothing left but a pair of high-cut bikinis and a tank top.

  “Pretty damn sexy,” she murmured, when she was finally down to the essentials. She’d never thought of herself in those terms before, but then she’d never undressed for a man in quite this way before. Actually, she’d never undressed for a man in any way, but her guide didn’t need to know that.

  She straightened her tank top and felt a zing zing of electricity run through her. There were a couple parts of her that were still humming—and quite urgently aroused. Her breasts were taut and budded. They didn’t seem to care whether the rest of her was glowing or not. They’d just come in from the cold.

  “Would you look at that,” she whispered in disbelief.

  “Look at what?”

  “The twins. I look like Cindy Crawford without a bra.”

  He made a throat-clearing sound, and she glanced up, startled. “Oh, sorry. It’s just that I’m so warm and they’re so… perky.”

  He seemed to be staring at her, and there was a pensive quality to his expression.

  “Jean? You’re awfully quiet. Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, everything is fine.”

  “You sound a little tense. Is it me? Am I doing things you’re not programmed to respond to?”

  “I wouldn’t put it exactly that way, but there are times when someone like me… when someone like me… wishes…”

  Oh, don’t stop now.

  She was so caught up with the words she couldn’t breathe. But his sea-deep eyes were beautiful. They
seemed to be imbued with the ocean’s hypnotic power.

  Wishes what?

  It sounded as if he’d cleared his throat again, and that possibility astounded her. Why would a computer simulation be hoarse?

  “Jean? You were saying?”

  “There are times when someone like me wishes he were real, Kerry. This is one of those times.”

  “Oh, me too, Jean. I wish you were real. I really do.”

  Her voice betrayed her, too. It was so raspy she could hardly get the words out. She grabbed for the tea to clear her throat, but she didn’t have a firm grip on the handle, and some of it slopped on the keyboard.

  “Oh, God,” she whispered, staring at the poof of smoke. There was a hot sizzling sound, a shower of sparks, and the computer screen went dark.

  Kerry jumped up from the chair and flipped the keyboard upside down to drain the spilled tea. She had a sinking feeling it was too late, the damage had been done, and she had no idea how to fix it. She’d never been into the nuts and bolts hardware. She was an idea person. Or she used to be.

  “Jean? Are you there? Are you there? Oh, no, please tell me I didn’t short out the keyboard!”

  Not only wasn’t he there, but the computer didn’t seem to be there, either. Kerry did everything she could think of to get it restarted, but it was like trying to resurrect the dead, and she wasn’t likely to get any help. It was late afternoon and one look outside told her she wouldn’t get a repairman today. It had been snowing again, heavily, and the road was heaped with white.

  Distraught, she picked up the game box and was gripped with the crazy need to apologize to it. It almost felt as if she’d killed someone. Of course, that wasn’t true. It was a game, and he was the guide. He would be in every single copy that Genesis put out, wouldn’t he? All she had to do was get her computer fixed and ask them to E-mail her a new copy of “Discover the Secret, Sensual You!”

  It would be Jean in there, wouldn’t it?

  Somehow she didn’t think so.

  * * *

  Chapter Four

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  “Kerry, come back and play. It’s lonely in here without you.”