JR (17 page)

After a brief hesitation, she agreed. “Okay.”

She fidgeted beneath him as though the suggestion of the device inflamed her. To keep her steady—and prevent her from dislodging any of the diodes—he swung one leg over her hips, pinning her in place. Her reflexive movements drove him crazy. Could he stop himself from taking her if she continued the seductive sway of her hips rocking against him?

“Mmm. I love your weight on me, holding me here.”

Her admission shot straight to his groin. The hard-on he’d been keeping at bay throbbed to life. If he didn’t move soon, she wouldn’t be able to ignore it prodding her yielding belly, even exhausted and half-asleep. And if she begged again, there’d be no stopping him from fucking her right now. It had nearly killed him to deny her earlier.

He reached to the floor below them where he’d staged the harness out of Becca’s line of sight. He gripped her waist in his hands, his fingers touching in the middle, then lifted her to slide the fur-lined, leather straps beneath her body. One thin band encircled her waist like a belt while another threaded through it, perpendicular to the first. The sensor and small probe looped onto the strap which, when belted closed, pulled snug between her legs, holding the device in place.

He rubbed the entrance to her pussy, pleased by the wet heat proclaiming her readiness. With a needy gasp, she angled her pelvis higher. Eager to oblige her, he slid his finger inside the welcoming grasp of her moist channel. He scrutinized her face for any hint of pain caused by his invasion. Her swollen labia gave evidence to the lingering effects of the afternoon’s activities but he’d been with enough women to know the mewling sounds she made stemmed from pleasure, not pain. Within seconds, her pussy began to slicken further.

“Kurt” she pleaded.

“No, baby. I won’t let you come. You’re ready now.” Although the instrument was modest, he ensured the comfort of her extraordinarily tight pussy. Or at least he’d meant to but he’d gotten lost in the yielding tissue scalding his finger. It would feel like heaven hugging his cock.

He sighed with regret when Becca forced herself to abandon the building arousal, hating to deprive her when he wanted nothing more than to ravage her all night, but it had to be done. Leaving her needy would prime her mind for erotic dreams. A wet slurp accompanied the motion of his finger when he pulled it from her pussy.

Then, he lubricated the sensor with her juices.

With one smooth push, he inserted the device inside her before buckling the strap to the belt in front, securing the contraption for the night. “How do you feel?”

“Nice. Comfortable. Horny.” Her rueful mumble lightened his heart.

At least he wasn’t the only one suffering. Kurt smiled against her hair. “Same here.”

Their chests glided across one another as he reached to turn on the Dream Machine. Damn! The full body contact inflamed every nerve in his body. He suppressed the animalistic instinct roaring for him to act.

Instead, he scanned the instrument panel to ensure the proper functioning of the equipment before he switched off the lights. Comparing Becca’s heartbeat tracking across the screen with the gentle thumping on his palm, he was satisfied.

The faint glow of the monitors bathed the small room, making it seem more intimate. Pulsing green illumination draped over them, casting diffuse shadows that highlighted the provocative contours of their bodies lying next to each other.

“Will the light bother you, sweetheart? I have a sleep mask you can wear if you’d like.”

“No, thanks. It’s like a nightlight. It’s comforting.” Her observation echoed his own.

Kurt had intended to stay on the other side of the bed but, when she trained her drowsy gaze on him, he couldn’t keep even a foot of space between them. Something about this woman called to him, urging him to rest with her. He never slept with women. Not just to sleep. Now, though, he looked forward to closing his eyes with the knowledge she would be by his side when he woke.

Moments away from succumbing to exhaustion, Becca sighed when he tugged her to his chest then stroked her hair. They fit perfectly together. She stiffened when his erection twitched against her thigh but he couldn’t let her go now. He prepared to keep her next to him all night by whatever means necessary. So he told her a half-truth.

“I need to hold you like this to make sure you don’t move around too much and dislodge the sensors.” If he couldn’t bury himself inside her, he at least wanted to shelter her in his arms. He’d never been possessive about a woman before but need drove him to stake a claim, to overcome her independence and show her, in some small way, she belonged with him.

“Yes, Doctor,” she answered in a relieved whisper before snuggling into his grasp.

Kurt lay awake for at least an hour after she went completely lax, breathing deeply. He didn’t need the sensor readings to tell him she slept. Stroking a repeated circuit down her back, across the upper swells of her ass then along her side, he memorized every inch of her body.

Usually, he’d be untangling limbs and making a stealthy exit about this time. Now he was content just to hold her. He’d always wanted Becca but, before, his desire had been motivated by a need to prove he could make her leave her past behind, discover her sensual nature and strengthen their future partnership.

Now, he wasn’t sure what he felt beside confusion. And lust.

As recently as the day before, he’d explained attraction as nothing more than a chemical reaction. He’d argued vehemently with Luke, and in research journals, that love could not be real. Nature used emotions as an evolutionary tool. Lust, friendship, even hate—those reactions were all explained by scientific theories on the development of needs. Convenient tricks of the mind enforced behaviors that would increase humankind’s chance of survival.

After all, it had to feel good to reproduce or our species would have died out long ago. Partnerships offered protection, split work—which conserved energy—and provided security. But love? He’d always thought people made themselves believe in a higher order to justify their behavior as more than a primitive reflex.

Kurt had entered the board’s charade hoping to convince Becca they would make a great team, a partnership in both the business they excelled at and a life he thought they could enjoy together. He’d tried to justify the decision by assuring himself the board would grant her deepest wish—to become a partner and board member—if she learned to embrace her sexuality and trust others by completing the experiment.

The uncomfortable swelling in his chest refused to conform to his theories.

Hell, he’d pushed his own moral limits, both professional and personal, to the max to steal this experience in the first place. Why had he been desperate enough to use Becca’s situation as motivation to explore her nature instead of taking the risk she would deny his proposition if faced with the truth? He’d told the board to go to hell before, why hadn’t he this time?

Could it be…?

And, if it was real… If love existed as more than a Hallmark myth, had he destroyed any chance for a future with Becca by keeping the truth of the break-in from her?

Kurt sighed, unwilling to recant a lifelong tenet. He chalked up his wayward thoughts to unrelieved lust, and the perfection of her physical responses having fuzzed his logic. Refusing to think on it further he decided to savor the night and her presence beside him.

Tomorrow was going to be one hell of a day. He needed his rest.

Kurt forced himself to sleep with a sense of anticipation unrivaled since he’d been a kid on Christmas Eve.

When he drifted off, a smile graced his face and his arms wrapped tight around Becca, subconsciously keeping her close to his heart.

***

He glanced at the pattern of polysomnographic waves recorded throughout the night. The general trend of the graph told him his subject had passed through the last likely rapid eye movement stage of sleep. This REM

stage would be where her dream activity would take place. Careful not to disturb her, he brushed his lips against her forehead, slipped out from beneath her lush warmth then rolled the desk chair next to the Dream Machine.

First, he flipped to the medical readouts. He scrolled through the findings to ensure everything appeared normal. As he expected, the results showed Becca in perfect health. During most stages, her vital signs slowed within normal parameters for the appropriate phase of the sleep cycle she would have been in at the times indicated on the screen.

The first REM stage occurred around ninety minutes after falling asleep. Tracking a little more than an hour into the recording, Kurt slowed in search of signs of dream activity.
There.
At ninety-three minutes and twenty-seven seconds, her respiration and heart rate began to accelerate then became a bit erratic.

Flipping to the camera view, he ignored the way he looked at peace holding her in his sleep in favor of noting her fingers and facial muscles demonstrating the mild twitches of pre-dream states. Then, about a minute later, her face went slack as the paralysis associated with REM sleep kicked in. Most researchers believed this inability to move accompanied increased brain activity to prevent dreamers from acting out their nighttime visions.

After marking the beginning of the first REM stage, he fast-forwarded the video until her vital signs returned to normal ten minutes later. The first REM stage of sleep was short but each stage lengthened until waking. He expected her to demonstrate the typical five to six dream periods. Each would have grown longer with the final stage lasting up to an hour.

Kurt subdued the need to view her dreams immediately. Instead, he stuck to protocol. He methodically marked the start and end times of each REM stage in his journal before programming the Dream Machine to translate the waves into images, as though his restraint proved he could overcome his raging desire.

If he allowed himself to watch the first scene before finishing the rest of the research, he would never make it to the others. Carefully, he recorded her biometric data as well as the temperature, moisture and pressure readings from the sensor inside her pussy during each stage. The thought of her draped on top of him while her body squeezed the instrument made him shift the uncomfortable weight of his dick. Only one thing could ease the pressure building there.

Willing himself to focus, he finished the necessary work while waiting for the dream sequences to convert.

After what seemed like years of waiting, but was only five minutes, the first of Becca’s fantasies completed processing. Kurt tilted the display to face him head on, the screen now pointing away from the bed. It took two tries for his trembling hand to click open the file captured the night before.

A vision flickered to life on the monitor. Hazy, incoherent shadows flitted through the darkness. He wondered if the machine would work after all. Then, a minute later, the swirling shapes and forms coalesced.

Becca’s dreams came to life before his eyes.

Rebecca’s eyelids fluttered open. A long, comfortable night’s sleep combined with the sexual release of the day before left her refreshed and eager to start the day. She took a moment to relish the satisfaction coursing through her before blinking to clear her vision.

Oh my God
. Not three feet in front of her, at eye level, Kurt’s hand wrapped around his gloriously erect cock. The sight filled her with instant longing. The bulbous head and plump veins stood out in relief on his thick shaft, creating ridges guaranteed to delight a woman.

Fascinated, she tried to stay immobile and silent. As she watched, he spread his powerful, muscled thighs wider. His firm ass rested on the edge of the chair while his left hand ran down from its perch on his ripped abdomen to cup his testicles. Massaging them, he groaned then squeezed his throbbing flesh. While his attention was diverted, Rebecca peeked up at his face.

He focused on the screen of the Dream Machine, which she couldn’t see no matter how she strained her neck. Kurt wore headphones, so she assumed he listened to the recording as well. Shock rippled through her.
He’s watching my fantasies.

Exhilaration, and a healthy dose of relief, kicked her heart into overdrive. Whatever she had dreamed up turned him on, too. Maybe sharing her secrets wouldn’t be as difficult as she dreaded.

A drop of milky white fluid appeared from the slit at the tip of his cock. The memory of his musky flavor tempted her. She wished she could taste him again. Afraid he would stop if he knew she watched his forbidden display, she froze and thanked God for the audio, which prevented him from detecting her panting.

Her conscience prickled for observing him unaware. Then again, he was jerking off to her dreams, so she supposed they were even. She lay enthralled by his animal grace and the raw virility radiating from him.

Taking advantage of the pre-come oozing from the swollen head of his cock, Kurt spread the slippery substance around until his hand glided up and down his erection with a moist, slapping sound. She loved the way his skin flexed and shifted around the solid core of steel-hard flesh.

Rebecca observed his chest heaving and the restless motion of his hips thrusting toward his hand. He would come soon. His head dropped back, his eyes closed, and she couldn’t help herself. Before she realized what she intended, she’d slid across the bed, breached the distance between them and placed her hand over his.