[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
up, at least I d see him coming.
Tiny people far below traipsed up and down the boulevard, their counterparts in cars roaring
past, leaving black clouds of smoke behind. Wow, emissions had really come a long way by 2010.
Would Mitch show up on his bike, or walk? It was only a couple of blocks. Or would he
stand me up, like the guy in some TV drama or breakup song
Music, music! I d forgotten, that was part of the ambiance I d planned. The TTR still doubled
as a radio, so I fiddled with the knobs until I found a somewhat clear station. Wouldn t you know,
it was Blondie, singing Call Me.
So I listened to her and paced. And checked my watch. Ten minutes. Had it only been that
long? Geez. Pat Benatar came on and begged Hit Me With Your Best Shot.
I did, I muttered. I hit him with my best shot. And what was the most seductive remark
in my arsenal? I bought condoms. Way to go, Randi. Way to go. Almost as smooth as fine.
A few commercials played while I stared desolately down at the parking lot. Not much action
there, other than the same yellow taxi parked at Registration since Benatar had started singing.
The DJ announced The Spinners and Working My Way Back to You and still no Mitch bike.
Maybe his answer was no.
When Queen came on with Crazy Little Thing Called Love, I kicked the bed. And decided
to put on the swim suit I d bought the other day and go to the pool. This day would not be a total
loss. So long as I kept that pack of condoms out of sight, I d be able to keep the tears from coming.
The bikini was much more revealing than my usual athletic-type tanks. Since I didn t plan
to be cliff-or scuba-diving, it should stay put. Maybe it was time I take a vacation where I could
relax and wear a little number like this the entire trip. All my wild adventurous trips seemed to
get me nothing but lonely.
138 Trouble Under Venus
With a hotel towel draped over my shoulder, I grabbed my heavy old-style room key and
jerked the door open a bit more roughly than intended.
Mitch all but knocked on my nose with his knuckles.
My heart beat a traitorously happy tattoo inside my chest at the sight of him.
What the? Where you going? He panted. His face was dark with exertion, droplets of sweat
running from the ends of his hair around his face.
I& nowhere. I guess. Surely Mitch the Triathloner hadn t worked up such a sweat in only
two blocks. Why are you sweating so much? He had on his running clothes... It s not that far
here.
I& He stepped inside past me and I closed the door. Then he bent over, resting his elbows
on his knees, gasping to catch his breath. I, ran& A couple deep gasps. & the other way, at first.
The other way. He d run the other way. You mean you went the wrong way?
No. I knew where I was& going. His breathing was returning to normal. But then I&
changed my mind.
All I could think was fine. Fine, in a huffy voice, for him running in the opposite direction.
And fine, he changed his mind. Okay.
Okay? This time it was certainly a question.
Okay. I stepped closer to him, to show my okayness with his changing his mind. Very
okay.
He caught my face between his hands. His lips, salty and hot, buried mine. Another half step
and we were tight against each other, my hands in the hollows of his shoulders, then sliding down
hot biceps. Skipping down his ribs and along his lower back. Clasping his butt like I d longed to
do for a lifetime. When his lips left mine and moved down to my neck, his hair brushed my nose,
smelling of sweaty man and shampoo.
Nice suit, he murmured against my collar bone as he unlatched the bikini top. He was well
on his way to groping my breasts, but for my part, I was still content holding his rock-hard butt.
When he pinched my nipples, I groaned. With an impatient flick, he pulled the bikini top
from my arms, tossed it aside. He lowered his face toward my chest and I clung to his butt for dear
life. The things his mouth did to me& I d never known the sides of my breasts were so sensitive.
He had me whimpering in agonized ecstasy by the time he scooped me up and deposited me on
the bed. As he shimmied my suit bottom off me, I couldn t help asking, When you gonna take
off your clothes?
He actually blushed before peeling off his shirt, toeing off his shoes and socks, and then the
breathtaking moment of revelation when he ditched those running shorts. With a mere glimpse to
admire his package before he was atop me, I conveyed my appreciation in a sigh.
Then he was full-length on top of me, mouth to mouth, chest to chest, key sexual anatomy
to just between my legs. Unable to resist, I reached down and touched him, tentatively at first and
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]