Headstrong (18 page)

“Would you mind getting a bottle ready for me?” he asked over the baby’s unhappy noises. “They’re in the fridge, on the top shelf. Could you put one in the microwave on low for ninety seconds?”

“Yeah, I can do that.” Libby was grateful for an assignment and a chance to collect herself in the kitchen.

She stared as the squat glass bottle pirouetted in the whirring microwave, contemplating what she was doing. Preparing food, which this baby’s mother had expressed from her own body to nourish it.

Dear God, what was Libby doing with
her
life? How was it possible that other people, people all around her, were busy creating other humans and forming families and dedicating their existences to making sure those tiny new lives were protected and nurtured? All Libby seemed destined to do was fast-talk her way into semi-paid research vacations and spend her evenings among similarly disengaged, gregarious strangers, singing other people’s pop songs.

Mercifully the timer dinged and snapped her out of this cloud of adult thought before she started getting downright philosophical.

“Is this warm enough?” she asked, walking through the living room and handing the bottle over.

“That’s perfect, ta.”

She watched with fascination as Colin fed his niece, his face going blank with contented boredom.

“God, she’s so tiny,” Libby murmured, wanting to voice a little of the awe she was experiencing. She didn’t suspect she could keep it all contained inside her body without risking another breakdown. Everything was altogether too poignant this morning.

“Tiny? You’re laughing, she’s huge,” Colin said. “You should have seen her when she was born. She’s a mammoth now.”

“Were you there, when she was born?”

“Hoo, was I ever. She turned up three weeks early while my brother-in-law was away in Aussie for his job. Guess who got to catch her.”

“Wow, really?”

“Well no, I’m exaggerating. The doctor did the actual catching, but she got handed off to me first. That is one blooming mad experience, watching someone give birth.” He made a shuddering noise. “Especially your sister.”

“I’ll bet.” Libby studied the scene with a new reverence. The baby was happy again, suckling away and gazing toward the window. “She’s got your eyes,” Libby said, looking at those big, blue-green irises. “If that’s possible.”

“Those are my dad’s eyes,” Colin said with a smile, fixing his own on Libby.

“You look a lot like him. At least in that photograph downstairs.”

He laughed. “I wish. Our dad was like the most dashing bloke in the neighborhood. Ask my mum about it sometime and she’ll chat your ear off. He was quite the charmer.”

“So, he got to meet his granddaughter, before he died, right?”

“Yeah. It’ll sound grim, but she was born in the same hospital that he was staying at, before he passed away.” Colin seemed to lose his enthusiasm for the conversation, voice turning heavy. “How’s that for convenient?”

“Sorry.”

“It’s all right. Just sucks to remember it.”

Libby nodded.

“I guess it’s a good thing this one here decided to show up early. Those three extra weeks were happy ones.”

“That’s something.”

“Yeah.” Colin gazed down at his niece with amusement and then back up at Libby. “Mad what a little sex can do, isn’t it?”

“It is,” she agreed flatly. She excused herself before the tears could return.

“Stand up a minute,” Libby ordered.

Reece raised his eyebrows quizzically but obeyed. He stood before her at the side of his bed, the candle on the side table highlighting all the contours of his body.

She still wasn’t sure how she’d achieved this coup. They’d had a good afternoon, documenting. At moments Libby had almost been able to trick herself into believing it was a date. Then after a couple of drinks over a pub dinner they’d gone back to the flat, and she’d asked about third base. To her shock, Reece had shrugged and said, “Yeah, okay then.” Willingness wasn’t as good as enthusiasm, but damn if she wasn’t going to take what she could get.

Presently she bit her lip. Reece looked amazing in his underwear. His briefs were gray with white piping, much sexier than boxers. Libby hoped he was enjoying seeing her in her panties and bra as much as she was enjoying this. Though if he was he hid it disappointingly well—Reece was a little
too
good at keeping these lessons platonic and instructional.

Libby pushed herself to the edge of the mattress and laid her hands on his stomach, fanning her fingers. She switched to kneeling so she could reach higher, racing her hands across his chest and shoulders and arms. Finally she cupped her hands over his hips, those firm ridges of muscle dipping down behind his underwear.

“Christ, do you have
any
fat on you?” she asked, absorbing the scene for a few final seconds. “Okay. You can lie back down now.”

He complied and she looked him over, nervous again.
It’s just like jumping into a cold pool. Just do it.

“So…I can touch you?” she asked.

“Yeah. Go ahead.”

“It’s not too weird?”

“Since when are you Little Miss Second Guess?”

“I just…sometimes I’m being weirder than I realize. I didn’t want this to be one of those times.”

Reece smiled. “It’s weird. You’re weird. I’m weird for letting you do this. Who cares? It’s just you and me, here.”

“Okay. Good.” She glanced down, studying the bulge between his strong thighs. “Anything I should know?”

“I don’t think so. Just do what you feel like.”

Libby’s insecurity was showing and it made her feel unspeakably vulnerable. But this was Reece…

“I want to do a good job,” she admitted.

“It’s not a job.”

“Um, actually you’ll find it
is
called a hand-
job
, if you want to be technical.”

“Libby.”

“I just want to make you feel good, okay? I want do a good
job
. You need to give me instructions.”

“All right.”

She took a deep breath, unsure of how to even start. Reece spread his legs out in front of him and reclined against the pillows.

“You’re right-handed, right? Come on.” He patted the spot beside him, inviting her to lie with him. She moved to rest against his side and the sudden contact of all that bare skin made her fingers tremble. She laid her hand on his abdomen and ran it up over his chest and back down, watching his body tense.

Libby swallowed. “I know this is just, well, whatever it is. Educational. But feel free to be, you know…horny about it.”

He rolled his eyes and smiled up at the ceiling. “Thanks, Libby.”

“Don’t tease me.”

“You’re about to touch my dick, Libby. It’s going to feel good. I’m going to be ‘horny about it’. If that’s too creepy for you, we’ll stop.”

“No, I want that.”

“Well all right, then.”

She took one last breath and touched his chest again. His skin was cool and dry, taut over long, trim muscles. A bit of soft hair for dignity. And he was
hers
, at least for the duration of this experiment.

Libby ran her hand down Reece’s hard navel and over his groin and his reaction was instantaneous—his back arched and a groan fled his lips. Libby caught her breath. She cupped her hand over his bulge and squeezed him, listened to him exhale heavily through his nose. As she rubbed him he grew, the ridge of his erection getting harder, pressing against the fabric more insistently. She felt herself go warm between her own legs.

Goddamn, this was
fun
.

“That feels good,” Reece breathed, tangling a hand in her messy hair. This wasn’t the man she’d come to know in past couple of weeks—his calm self-possession was crumbling before her eyes.

“Good. You feel nice.” She stroked him up and down, fascinated by the change in his size. He was rock hard now, pulsing softly, filling his briefs nearly to the waistband. Libby was no expert but she felt pretty certain Reece was on the more blessed end of the penis spectrum. She wrapped his fingers around him. Stiff. It would’ve intimidated her, had he not made it so clear she was the one calling the shots. She wondered if her body could accommodate him, if Reece ever let things go that far…

His hips shifted. “You’re making me feel really wonderful, Libby.”

“Are you going to come?”

“That’s up to you. This is about whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“Are you close?”

“I’ve got a bit more staying power than that, thanks. I can hold out for as long as you want me to. Well, within reason.”

“Wow.”

He laughed.

“I want to take your underwear off,” she announced.

“Go ahead.”

She released him to kneel, easing his briefs over his erection and down his thighs. He helped her push them the rest of the way off. She could smell him, a faint but decidedly sexual smell. She memorized it, studying him as they lay back down.

“You’re not circumcised.”

“No. New Zealand’s not big on that.”

“Interesting.”

“Does that bother you?” he asked.

“Nah. Is there anything I’m supposed to do special?”

He laughed again. “You’re so cute.”

“Seriously.”

“I think most dicks work pretty much the same… I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with a biologist.”

“Bio
chemist
. And I’ll have to take your word for it.” She touched her fingers to him, feeling the surprising softness of that intimate skin.

“Here.” He clasped his hand over hers so she held him tightly in place, stopping her heart mid-beat. Gently, he pumped his hips.

“Feel that? Move your hand so the skin slides like that. It feels really good.”

She found it a delightfully easy accomplishment and spent a couple of minutes mastering the new skill. Watching Reece getting turned on was shockingly sexy. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, but she was rendered breathless nevertheless, studying the evidence of his face and body as her touch gave him pleasure…watching this self-possessed man turn desperate and knowing she was the one who’d done it to him.

“Can I…”

He moved his gaze from her hand to her face, as distracted as she’d ever seen him. “Yes?”

“Can I watch you do it?” she asked.

“Touch myself?”

“Yeah.”

“I suppose.” He reclaimed some of his usual composure. “How um…intensely?”

“However you usually do it. You can come. You
should
come, in fact.”

“That’s what you want?”

“Definitely. Show me what you do.”

He sat up and Libby propped herself on an elbow for a better view.

“Right… This is a little weird,” he admitted, glancing at her.

“Watching?”

“Well, definitely weird for friends. Not weird at all for lovers.”

“Get over it.”

“Ah, there’s the Libby Prentiss I know.”

She watched with fascination as Reece took himself in his hand and began to run his fist up and down. She felt herself grow antsy,
itchy
for more. “That’s
really
sexy.”

Reece laughed. “You’re a bit of a bloke, you know. You’re sort of visual.”

“You would be too if you’d never seen this before. You doing that is like spotting a really rare animal or something.”

“The internet is full of blokes wanking, if that’s what you’re into. You didn’t have to wait for me.”

“Yeah, it’s full of nasty
strangers
. There’s no website where I can download myself onto your bed and watch you touch yourself. Not yet at least.”

Reece’s hand paused as he looked her in the eye, his expression hard to read. “Does it matter that it’s me?”

She glanced around. “Sort of.”

“Do you…do you
like
me, Libby?”

Shit, this could be the death knell. “Yeah, a little.”

He licked his lips, clearly nervous. “But you know we’re just friends. And we’ll still
just
be friends, after this? Right?”

The escape clause stung, but Libby couldn’t pretend she wasn’t expecting it. “Yeah, I know…but I wouldn’t do this with somebody if I didn’t have at least a
bit
of a crush on them.”

Reece nodded slowly. “I’ll buy that.”

“So keep going.”

He resumed Libby’s entertainment, and she felt herself drift back into that heated, impatient place in her body. “How often do you do this?” she asked.

“Most nights, before I go to sleep.” His voice had grown thick, eyes half-lidded.

“What do you think about?”

He smiled. “All sorts of things.”

“Tell me. Tell me what you’re thinking about right now.” She held her breath, hoping it wasn’t anything she might not want to hear.

“Right now I’m thinking about you watching me touch myself.”

“Well, what do you normally think about? What did you think about last night?”

He stopped stroking and stared at her. “You really want to know that?”

“Yeah. I don’t care who or what you think about,” she fibbed. “I’m just curious.”

He cleared his throat. “What if it’s you?”

Libby felt her eyebrows shoot up toward her hairline. “Really?”

“Well, yeah. We’ve been making out nonstop for like a week.”

She grinned, teasing side resurfacing. “Do tell, then. Tell me everything.”

“You might not want to know what’s in my head. I don’t want to creep you out.”

“Come on. I
do
want to know. Tomorrow we can pretend this didn’t happen.”

“Are you sure? We both know you’re only doing this with me because I’m safe and platonic. It might wreck that.”

God, you’re so naive.
“It won’t. I don’t mind. I’m being very objective about this,” she lied.

“I guess that’s all right.”

“Of course it is. So keep going. And tell me everything you’re thinking about. Pretend I’m a shrink. Nothing you say will leave this room, Mr. Nolan.”

“Now
that’s
creepy.”

She poked his arm. “Show me what you do.”

“This is so twisted…”

She smiled broadly and socked him on the shoulder. “Do it!”

Reece began to stroke himself again—long, slow pulls that seemed to tighten the entire length of his body.

“So, what did you think about last night?”