Finder's Keeper (24 page)

“My id?”

“That’s the sex part of the brain, isn’t it?”

She frowned. “It’s a psychological term, not a neurological one. Soft science.” She waved her fingers in a woo-woo gesture clearly meant to degrade psychologists everywhere.

Whatever kind of science they were doing, it sure as hell wasn’t
soft.
“Well, I’m tapped into something. And that something is horny as hell and loud as fuck.”

“This is only happening with me? You’ve had other successful finds recently that did not result in an
id
connection.” She said
id
with mild distaste, clearly having missed the part of the conversation when he’d confessed to having a direct link to her fucking libido.

“Plenty of other finds. Every day. And you’re the only one this happens with. Maybe you should scan your own brain while you’re checking mine.”

Mia blinked, instantly intrigued. “You’re suggesting your touch stimulates a neurological response in your subject as well. Fascinating. I
should
test the findee’s brain to ascertain whether the psychic connection could indeed have a symbiotic element. Excellent suggestion.”

She didn’t seem even mildly fazed by the fact that he’d read her sexiest thoughts. Something occurred to him. “Mia, were you
trying
to think about sex?”

She flushed. “Of course not. I was visualizing the watch.”

“So you weren’t in any way thinking of blow jobs?”

Her face grew redder still. “I wasn’t
trying
to think about them. But you know how it is, your subconscious stores memories of conversations throughout the day and combines them to form original thought. Genesis. Inspiration.”

Chase blinked. He’d always found oral sex inspirational. Nice to know she shared the sentiment. “You were talking about blow jobs today?” he asked, unable to mask his interest. Mia just kept getting more and more intriguing.

Her fair skin was roughly the shade of a cherry tomato now. “I don’t see how that’s relevant to the experiment.”

It was relevant to his hard-on.

Was that why she’d been staring at his crotch? Because she was visualizing
that
?

They’d been taking things slow, sexually. Not for lack of chemistry, but because he’d been trying to be respectful. Mia wasn’t a one-night stand.

And okay, yes, he was a little chicken shit. He hadn’t been with anyone who mattered in years. Mia was gonna matter. He wanted to do things right between them and he wasn’t even sure he remembered what
right
felt like. He’d been spending too much time on
right now
in the last six years. But if Mia’s blow job fantasy was anything to go by,
right
and
right now
were about to collide.

She tipped her head to the side, her gaze distant as she analyzed something only she could see. “I think I like that you can see into my thoughts. Yes, my reaction definitely appears to be positive. Interesting.”

“You don’t find it…invasive?”

She considered that for a moment. “No. It’s…welcome. I’m not, ahem, that is to say, I don’t excel at intimacy, and this seems to be a beneficial short-cut in that regard.” She cleared her throat, blushing furiously. “Shall we try again?”

Chase flexed his hand, extending it palm up. God help him. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

Mia slipped her fingers into Chase’s, trying to clear her thoughts of the carnal images that had been plaguing her all afternoon. But of course, in the act of trying
not
to think about something, she was directing her thoughts back to the very subject she was trying to purge.

The watch. Think about the watch.

Mia pictured the watch. It was gold. It was a magical menace. But an annoyingly effective one. It had somehow, even in its disappearance, managed to find a man for Mia. It was a startling thought. The idea that perhaps the watch had somehow managed to lose itself in order to guide her to her match. The argument seemed to imply that her inability to find the watch centered not around her own issues with the watch, but rather around the fact that she and Chase had not committed themselves fully to the relationship.

Consummated it.

Images rose to the front of her mind.
Mia straddling Chase, rising above him in the chair, his hands gripping her hips.

“Mia!” Chase’s strangled shout called her out of the fantasy.

She blushed. “Okay, that time I was thinking about sex. But only a little and only toward the end.”

He bent forward, elbows propped on his knees, rubbing a hand hard across his face. “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

“It isn’t conscious,” Mia protested. She couldn’t seem to control the drift of her thoughts where he was concerned. Though perhaps it was just the allure of the unknown. The combination of her nerves and his sex appeal were making it impossible to concentrate, but if they got it out of the way…
Rip that Band-Aid off.

She nodded once to herself. “We need to have sex.”

Chase’s head snapped up so fast it had to have hurt his neck. “Pardon?”

Mia smiled. Such good manners. Even when she verbally cold-cocked him. “The sex stuff is obviously distracting me and detracting from the experiment. It’s only logical to remove that variable by consummating this.” She paused, a horrible thought rising up. “Unless you don’t wish to.”

“Oh I wish to.” His voice was a growl.

Mia felt heat rushing through her body and looked away from the blaze in his eyes. “Excellent.” She cleared her throat nervously. “Would you like to be on top or shall I?”

Chase made a choked sound.

Mia pressed on without looking at him. “I prefer the clitoral stimulation being on top provides, myself, but find many positions pleasurable and am quite willing to explore your preferences as well. Though I feel I should make it clear that I am not interested in other parties joining us, the giving or receiving of pain during sex acts, nor any sort of ‘play’ involving waste matter.”

“Why don’t we start with the classics?” Chase suggested, his voice sounding strangled enough that Mia forced herself to look at him. His face was flushed, his teeth snagged on his lower lip like he was holding something in, but his eyes were twinkling wickedly. Those eyes said he knew what he was doing. She pressed her thighs together against a sudden flare of warmth.

“That sounds quite satisfactory.” She tried to peek a glance at his apparatus, but he was still bent forward, blocking her view and preventing her from applying Gina’s trick just yet. “There’s a couch, more of a day bed I suppose, in the room off my office where I frequently sleep. We can make use of it now, if that is acceptable to you.”

He was already stripping off the sensors, with single-minded efficiency. “Lead the way.”

Chase trailed her down the hall to her office and through the connecting door without touching her. A low hum vibrated just beneath her skin and her stomach was vaguely queasy. She couldn’t tell whether the physiological reactions should be attributed to anticipation or nerves, but she was fairly sure it was the latter. She was beginning to regret her suggestion. Not that she didn’t want to have sex with Chase. She certainly did. But things were so much easier when he took the lead. All she managed to do when she took the helm was suck all the spontaneity out of experiences. He was good at making her feel like a woman, rather than just a scientist, but he seemed content to let her be a scientist with regard to sex. That thought was more disconcerting than she had thought it would be.

She flipped on the fluorescent lights and waved a hand to the dormitory-style twin bed with its well-worn navy duvet, piled high with a mismatched collection of pillows. “There it is.”

His hands were on her shoulders, gently turning her to face him. “Mia, are you sure—”

“Yes, yes,” she cut him off abruptly. She didn’t want him questioning her right now. Her nerves were shot enough without struggling to explain herself. When his brow furrowed, she launched herself at him and mashed her mouth against his.

It wasn’t a romantic kiss. Or even a passionate one. It was clumsy and desperate and could have evolved to painful, but thankfully Chase took control. He caught her jaw between his thumb and forefinger and gentled the kiss, murmuring, “Easy now,” against her lips in a husky drawl that ignited a waiting spark in her core.

Things progressed nicely from there. The first few articles of clothing were removed without any undue awkwardness. Thanks to the ingenious design benefits of button-down shirts and skirts with easily reached side-zippers, they didn’t even have to stop kissing—a strategy of which Mia wholeheartedly approved. She kept her eyes squeezed shut and made sure she was making appreciative
mm
noises to encourage him to continue even as half of her mind was cataloguing and evaluating the experience. If this encounter was anything to go by, he was excessively proficient at bed sports, his hands deftly stimulating a physiological reaction wherever they touched.

“Stop thinking so hard,” he murmured as he broke their latest kiss, his fingers skimming up her back to the clasp of her bra.

She shivered, all her erogenous zones—and several she hadn’t been aware could be erogenous—sitting up and saying howdy, but she couldn’t seem to open her eyes.

“Mia. Sweetheart.”

Her name was coaxing on the lips that pressed to the side of her neck, even as his hands coaxed her bra straps down her arms.

Maybe she should have gotten drunk. Alcohol would have relaxed her, convinced her she could really do this, given her the foolhardy confidence to believe she wasn’t totally out of her league with Chase Hunter.

“Hey.” Gentle hands cupped her shoulders and gave her a light shake. “Get out of your head.”

Easy for him to say.

“You can look, you know.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “You might like it. Unless you’re scared I’ll have some unspeakable genetic abnormality and you won’t be able to go through with it.”

Oh great. Now she
had
to look. She opened her eyes just as he was reaching for the button on his jeans. He shucked the denim, the bright fluorescents somehow making his golden skin gleam while she looked pasty at best. He was the kind of attractive that ruined the bell curve for the rest of the population. Mia glanced down at her white flesh, automatically covering herself. The no-nonsense white cotton panties did little to enhance her meager sex appeal. She should have had Gina take her shopping for one of those bustiers to make something appealing out of her distinctly unimpressive bust. It wasn’t like she had overwhelming skill to compensate for her physical shortcomings.

Down to his boxers—which at least were tented so perhaps he wasn’t totally disappointed by her body—Chase frowned and reached for the hands shielding her from his view. Mia shied away, the backs of her legs bumping up against the bed.

“Mia, sweetheart, you look perfect.” He flashed a rakish smile. “Mouthwatering.”

He reached for her again.

“I’m probably going to suck at this,” she blurted. She felt better as soon as she told him. Honesty was
always
the best policy. “I’m out of practice and studies have shown men prefer women with more,” she waved at her flat chest, “flesh. You just…you might wish to adjust your expectations accordingly.”

Chase grinned and slowly closed the distance she’d put between them, looking deliciously animalistic prowling toward her. “One,” he slid one finger beneath her chin, “it’s like riding a bike. Two,” a second finger joined the first, tipping her chin back as his head lowered by fractions, “I
like
your flesh. And most importantly, three,” his lips brushed hers ever so softly as his other hand slid smoothly down the curve of her spine, “for once in your life…” another fluttering kiss, “turn off your brain and just feel.” He caught her hands, placing her palms flat on his warm, smooth chest. “Feel me, Mia. I’m not an experiment. I’m not a subject. I’m more than a collection of interesting molecules.” His arms and words wrapped around her, easing her back onto the bed. “Let yourself see me. Be with me, Mia.” His lips seared the shell of her ear and she arched her neck to give him better access. Heat flooded her senses. “
Burn
with me.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chemistry: Not Just a Class

Chase slid his hands over the smooth lines of Mia’s body. He couldn’t let up. He wanted her here, in the moment with him, as much a slave to her physical needs as she had made him. If he stopped touching her for even a moment, her brain would re-engage, and as much as he loved when Mia over-thought everything, right now he wanted her over-feeling.

Kissing the delicate stretch of her neck, he slid his hands toward the slight curve of her breasts—and bumped into her hands, trying to cover herself. “Mia.” Her name held a scold and a smile as he tugged her hands away and shackled them above her head in one of his. “No hiding. Your body is perfect,” he murmured, his mouth close enough to her ear for his breath to caress the sensitive ridge. His palm found her nipple, rolling the sensitive button in a circle. She fit easily in his hand. The hard ridge of her ribs, the gentle softness of her breast, the firm point of her nipple—she was sleek elegance in every texture.

He couldn’t find fault in her coltish lines. Her body suited her so perfectly—no excess, all sleek efficiency. Mia was all business from head to toe, but he knew how to turn her business to pleasure.

Chase nipped and licked his way down her throat, across the pronounced ridge of her clavicle, and guided her breast to his lips, tonguing the plum-colored point of her nipple until she squirmed and shifted her legs restlessly.

Chase sucked hard, drawing her into his mouth, and Mia arched like a bow under his hands. “I have…a trick…” she murmured breathlessly.

“Mmm?” he hummed against her flesh and she shivered. He worked his way down her body, nibbling at the indent of her waist and the dip next to her hip bones.

“It’s a blow job thingy…” she panted.