Chapter Sixteen
Geekronym: UX
Definition: The behaviors, attitudes, and emotions inspired by a user’s interaction with a computer program or website. UX covers only what the user actually perceives, not the entirety of the actual content or functionality of the site or program.
Charlie’s experience with Preston hadn’t prepared her for making love with Daniel. For one thing, Daniel’s intensity was off the charts. She remembered that same focus and concentration from when they were kids working on one of their crazy inventions. Attention to detail, that was his watchword.
Stretched out next to her on the bed, he turned that attention on her now, as if every inch of her was part of a fascinating frontier that he had to explore with his eyes and hands and mouth. His fingers activated a neural network on her skin, connecting points she had no idea were related, each part lighting up in sympathy to his touch.
When he traced a path behind the back of her knee with his tongue, spangles burst at the base of her neck. He nipped her collarbone, igniting a starburst of tingles in her inner thighs. The kisses he peppered up the curve of her breast raised goose bumps at the base of her spine.
But when his mouth closed over her nipple and he suckled, rolling the other between his fingers? All available neurons imploded, leaving behind nothing but the sensation of Daniel’s touch, his kiss.
And then…then…then he pressed an open-mouthed kiss between her legs, sparking an explosion in her brighter than any of tonight’s fireworks. She gasped, back arched, head pressed into the pillow, fingers clutching the sheet.
Lord. She needed him in her. Needed him now, this very nanosecond, but when she reached for him, her fingers only brushed his hair while he lingered, planting soft kisses on her hip.
“Daniel. Please. I need you up here with me. You have to—”
“One second, sweetheart.”
She heard a crinkle of foil. Condom. Yes. They were getting to the good part now.
Wait. Strike that. All of it was good. All of it was freaking amazing. Then he was above her, and she ran her hands down the smooth skin of his back and parted her legs to cradle him, welcome him where he belonged. She needed him to fill her and he did, pushing all the way home, and she felt him there, right there.
He gazed down at her, lips parted, his pupils dilated until the blue nearly disappeared, his arms next to her shoulders, muscles bunched as he held himself up. Then he began to move, a long, slow glide and thrust.
She felt it all the way to her heart.
…
Daniel would have sworn nothing could be better than the sight of Charlie spread out on the bed like his own personal erotic feast, her hair a copper halo on the pillow and her skin golden against the pale sheets.
Then he’d tasted her. Watched her come undone under his mouth, and that had been the ultimate.
But nothing…nothing compared to the way her core gloved his shaft like fire-warmed velvet, the way her eyes widened as he thrust into her, to the ripple of her muscles when she came again around him.
Christ…he couldn’t even… Control, damn it. No way could he let this end yet. He held himself still, hands braced by her shoulders, her nipples teasing his chest, while her body tensed, her breasts and throat rosy with a lover’s flush. She moaned and his balls tightened, heat sparking in his lower back, but he gritted his teeth. Not yet.
She opened her eyes, her gaze slowly regaining focus. She blinked at him, her pupils blown wide.
“Daniel.”
“Nnnng?”
“Breathe.”
He released a tortured breath, then sucked in another when she wrapped her long, smooth legs around his ass.
“Daniel?”
“Nnnnnnnnng.”
“Move.”
Right. That he could do. He slid almost all the way out of her, gratified by her whimper of protest, then thrust home.
“Oh.” Her eyes widened. “This feels so…you feel…mmmmm.”
Couldn’t have put it better myself.
Then she tilted her hips to take him deeper, and he lost it. Two more thrusts and his vision whited out as he came with her hands tangled in his hair and her mouth warm on his throat.
…
In her wildest imagination, Charlie had never pictured this reality, virtual or otherwise. Her head resting on Daniel’s bare shoulder, her hand on his chest, rising and falling with his breath. She had permission—no, not permission, a mandate—to touch him. Anywhere. He’d said so. More than once.
She moved her hand, a suggestion of a stroke across the dark hair on his chest and a sound rumbled under her cheek. She snatched her hand away, fisting it in the sheets that covered them to the waist. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Daniel reached down and tangled his fingers with hers, drawing her hand back and splaying it on his sternum, holding it in place. “I wasn’t asleep.”
The flutter in her chest—could he feel the way her heart and breath tripped over each other at the nearness of him, the warmth, the reality of him?
“I have a question for you.” His voice still vibrated under her cheek in a way that set her bones tingling.
A question. Lord. Questions could be dangerous and, in her current state, she’d probably tell him anything. “Okay.” Her voice sounded tentative and she tried again. “Ask away.”
“What was the major alien makeup fail between TNG and DS9?”
“Seriously?” She lifted her head and stared at him, catching a smile quivering at the corners of his mouth, even though his eyes were closed. “Star Trek trivia? Now?” She laughed. Apparently people did check into hotels to play Star Trek trivia. Who knew?
“I figure I have you at a disadvantage.” He opened one impossibly blue eye. “No available money to bet.” He lifted the sheet and peered down at their naked bodies. “No clothes to wager. You’re going to have to get creative when I win.”
She propped her chin on his pectoral, and his muscles tensed. “What makes you think you’ll win?”
He shifted, turning onto his side to face her, his hand warm on her waist, his fingers tracing gentle circles on her back. “Remember, I’ve been practicing.”
“What are the stakes? What do I get if I answer correctly?”
“This.” He kissed her, his tongue delving deep, and her toes curled.
She fought to catch her breath. “That’s good. What do you get if my answer is wrong?”
His lips curved and one dimple flickered into sight. “This.” He kissed her again with equal heat.
When he ended the kiss, she sucked in air as if her hull had been breached. “Your logic is flawed. Your true and false paths both lead to the same place.”
“Is that a problem?”
“No.” She stroked the side of his face. This late at night, scruff shadowed his jaw, a tiny prickle against her palm. “Logic is overrated.”
“So. Don’t dodge the question, Forrester. What’s your answer?”
“Easy. The Trill. In TNG they had that vaguely feline brow ridge. DS9, they borrowed the scale tattoo pattern from the Kryotions.”
“Correct. Claim your forfeit.” He kissed her again, pulling her body flush against his. From the way his erection rode the curve of her hipbone, this game was about to give way to a different kind of play. Totally all right with her.
He pulled back, taking her breath with him. He smoothed her hair back from her forehead. “Your turn.” His voice was husky.
“I…” She got lost in his eyes. In his smile. “Name the two actors who intersected X-Men and a single episode of TNG.”
He shook his head, one brow quirking up. “Too easy, Doctor. Are you distracted, by any chance?”
“What makes you say that?” Breathless. Lord, she sounded like Meredith.
“Because I can follow your train of thought. The same episode with the hi-jacked Trill makeup. Patrick Stewart and Famke Janssen.” He tugged on her curl. “You know the name of that episode?”
She nodded.
“Tell me.” He nuzzled her neck and trailed his hand up her side to cup her breast, brushing her nipple with his thumb.
“‘The Perfect Mate,’” she whispered. “Daniel, I—” But he followed the line of her shoulder with his open mouth, and the caboose of her alleged thought-train rattled by and disappeared along with her wits. Later. I can tell him later. Not now.