Steamlust (21 page)

Describing the lab as an unmitigated disaster was an insult to actual disasters everywhere. The mess was contained to one small corner of a vast laboratory and was constrained to a black smudge against one wall and a pile of ashes that were scattered across the floor. “It doesn’t look like much,” Justin shrugged, “but I assure you, your knock probably saved my life. If I had been standing there, there wouldn’t be much of me left to have a conversation.”

“See?” Eliza jiggled the auspiciometer at the end of its chain. “I’m quite timely.”

“As usual,” Justin nodded. “My father mentioned you had a knack for being in the right place at the right time.”

“The auspiciometer was a gift from my father. He invented it. I could use it to help you with—what were you doing before it exploded?” Eliza was intensely curious. “I’ve never had an experiment fail—”

“Quite so dramatically?” Justin interrupted. He scrubbed one hand across his chin, leaving a charcoal smear.

“At all.”

“Never?”

Eliza nodded absently. “Is it terribly depressing for you?” Of
course she’d never failed, not with the auspiciometer directing her decisions.

“Why should it be? Even a spectacular failure is an opportunity to learn. Some of the greatest inventions in history were accidental.”

“And what have you learned from this?” Eliza swept a hand derisively over the dust heap.

“Nothing, yet. That’s the beauty of it. I get to reconstruct my experiment, and my notes, and discover exactly what occurred. And thanks to you, I’m alive to do it.”

“Well, let us get to it, then,” she said. Eliza pulled out the auspiciometer and was stopped suddenly by a warm hand on her wrist.

“Why not try it the ordinary way?” Justin shrugged. “I’m not in a hurry.”

“Why would you want to do that? Do you like failure?” Eliza was astounded. Who would deliberately throw away an opportunity to get something exactly perfect?

“Did you have something better to do?” Justin smiled at her, his intense eyes melting her resistance. Truth be told, she didn’t have anything particular planned. And there was something appealing about spending time with him.

“Your father said you didn’t deal with failure well,” Eliza hesitated. “He asked me to bring some letters to you, and his journals. It was his dying request.” She reached into her satchel to fetch them out.

“My father,” Justin said, gently entwining his fingers with hers, “had not been in London to know much of me, one way or another, for several years. Whatever he had to say to me has waited this long. It can continue to wait. His letters to me described you as being the foremost mathematical mind on the planet. Humor me for a short while. Then I’ll read his remaining
letters and you can go back to your adventures, duty done.”

“I agree.” By every measure of polite society, she should refuse. And yet, it was difficult to refuse him anything when he held her fingers so intimately, when his gaze was so compelling.

“Excellent.” Justin handed her the broom. “You can start by sweeping the floor.”

Several hours of work later, Eliza had to admit there was something satisfying in a job done completely on intellect and muscle. The cleaning had been somewhat onerous, but the mathematical equations she then delved into had been so problematical and tricky that she would have welcomed the chance to wash the walls, instead. Her brain ached from a constant degree of concentration that she had not maintained in years. She sank gratefully into the soft cushions of the sofa, tilting her head back against the crushed velvet. Her gown was stained, and probably torn, but she felt as satisfied as those hot days in Cairo, overseeing the dig. The only difference was a strange, tingling sensation that took her a while to identify: anticipation. She had no idea what to expect next, nor when. Even in Cairo, as exciting as that had been, she knew success was within her grasp.

“So, how does it work?” Justin asked. “Your clockwork?”

“The auspiciometer,” Eliza said, pulling it out from her pocket. “You hold it, clearing your mind of everything, save for your goal. The auspiciometer then detects the concentration of karmic particles coalescing around your every decision and will indicate the best time and place to act. It is part timing, part luck. This dial here indicates the intensity of karmic particles, this monitors the exact time left until the action is to be performed. The compass indicates direction if there is a person you must meet, or an object you require. With some practice,
you can learn to read it easily, and know exactly when to make your move. And you have to keep it out of the sunlight.”

“You’re kidding,” Justin snorted. “It’s nocturnal?”

“Not precisely. But sunlight has an adverse effect on its accuracy. My father thought…well, he theorized that because people tend to
feel better
in sunlight, they give off a false kismetic reading. I’m not certain. I haven’t tested it thoroughly. But the evidence my father accumulated suggested that the readings were inaccurate in sunlight.”

“May I?” Justin held out one work-roughed hand. Eliza hesitated and then nodded, sliding the device into his palm.

Justin closed his eyes for just a moment and then gazed down at the whirling dials. “Excellent.”

Eliza shifted closer to him; the auspiciometer was upside down to her view. Already, the karmic indicator was green, the dial rapidly ticking down. Less than a minute remained.

“What were you looking for?” There was nothing in this room that seemed incredible or lucky to her. Justin returned the auspiciometer to her pocket, leaning across her to do so. She shivered as his fingers brushed against her hip.

“I was wondering”—he was closer to her than was proper, his breath soft on her face—“when would be the perfect moment to kiss you.”

His mouth covered hers with warm supplication, tongue flickering gently over her bottom lip, tickling. Feeling the warmth of his breath against her mouth, she wrapped her arms around his neck, melding her body against his with sudden desire. With a strangled groan in the back of his throat, Justin pulled her closer, nearly crushing her in his fervor. “Ah, Eliza.” His voice was rough, shaking. He kissed her again, his mouth warm on hers, his tongue parting her lips. She surrendered to his kisses, one hand sliding restlessly over his back, feeling the heat of his
skin through his shirt and vest. He covered her face with kisses, tasting each cinnamon freckle.

Justin caressed her back, her hip, the side of her ribs, the swell of her breast. Even through the fabric of her gown, her nipple puckered in response and she arched under his hand. He lowered his head to kiss her neck, tracing a line of warmth across her collarbone.

With a soft grunt of effort, he lifted Eliza into his arms, cradling her against his chest, continuing to nuzzle at her neck as he carried her up the stairs and down the hall to his bedchamber. Lightly, Justin set her back onto her feet, and then turned her gently, his fingers reaching for the row of buttons down her back. She was breathless with wanting, one hand pressed to her flaming cheeks, the other holding up her dress as it loosened. Working the laces out of her stays, he kissed her again. Each time the lace slipped another notch, her stays loosening, she shivered.

“Are you cold?” Justin asked, a sly grin playing over his full lips.

“Not with you here to warm me,” she responded, daring. Eliza had taken lovers before, of course—an adjunct professor during her years at university, and the lead of her archeological team—but those experiences had been nearly wordless grappling in darkened tents and abandoned classrooms, not brazen trysts in the middle of the afternoon with a man she knew mainly from letters. It was difficult, and then impossible, to be shocked with herself, however, when he nibbled lightly at the ends of her fingers, driving all thought and reason from her mind. Justin deposited a kiss in the palm of her hand and then tugged her chemise down.

Eliza stepped forward, her bare breasts pressing against his vest, as she untied his cravat, adding to the pile of clothing on
the floor. Justin trembled under her touch, his skin rippling with gooseflesh. He lightly slid warm fingers down her shoulder and enclosed her breasts, his palms teasing her erect nipples. She panted, leaning her head back, her fingers twining in his hair. He groaned, licking at her neck, leaving a trail of searing kisses. Slowly, teasing, he continued tracing a line of kisses down her neck and across her chest, his mouth seeking her breast. Finding it, he suckled, his tongue a wet lash of sensation. She mewled with need, her back arching, straining up on tiptoes to pull him closer.

Justin kicked off his boots and shucked the rest of his clothing, eager to have her pressed against his skin, feeling the lush warmth of her body. He backed up, sitting on the bed and pulling her to him. His hands encircled her waist and his mouth sought her breasts, licking one nipple, then the other. She folded her arms around his neck, holding his head to her as she abandoned herself under his questing tongue. He left her breasts, his tongue moving down her stomach, his hands sliding down her hips and across her thighs to tease her stockings down.

“Eliza,” he breathed her name. “So beautiful.”

She laughed softly. “I’m not beautiful, Justin.”

He stood then, turning her in his arms toward the full-length dressing mirror. “I beg to differ. Look.” He met her gaze in their reflection, his eyes glowing with desire. He stood behind her, holding her gaze, as his hands slid down her body, his fingers bringing her nipples erect again. Eliza gasped and blushed, embarrassed and fascinated by the view in the mirror. She watched Justin’s reflection intently as he kissed her neck again, one hand tormenting her breast, the other sliding lower, over her stomach, along her hip. She quivered, unable to look away.

“Look how luscious you are, so soft, the curves perfect,”
Justin whispered in her ear, his hands tracing every inch of her. Softly, nipping at her earlobe, sending delicious shivers down her spine, he spoke, “You’ve always sought after golden moments…shall I give you one, my dear?”

She quivered under his skilled mouth. “Oh, yes. I want you.”

He nipped her neck, teeth grazing her skin. Her knees buckled as he ran his tongue down her spine, and then nuzzled at the small of her back, his fingers encircling her waist, teasing her hips, brushing across her belly. She couldn’t look away from her reflection, watching the heat of passion paint a rosy pink blush across her cheeks and chest, her nipples hard, her breasts proud and upright. Eliza felt both vulnerable and powerful to see a handsome, strong man on his knees, his mouth worshipping her body. His tongue traced lower, licking just over one hip, and she nearly fell, clutching at his shoulders to remain upright.

“My turn.” She regained her balance, and then hauled him up, muscles lean and strong from months of archeological digs coming to her aid as she nudged him onto the bed. He spread out, gazing up at her as she bent her head, kissing down his chest and stomach until her tongue reached his navel. Justin groaned and twisted under her tongue, his hands plunging into the wealth of her copper hair, spilling her curls free of pins. With sudden, urgent need, he pulled her over him, his tongue thrusting into her mouth. One hand trailed up her thigh to reach for her sex. She moaned into his mouth, trembling, and parted her legs to his hand. He pulled back from the kiss, watching her face, his fingers exploring gently, tracing over each feminine fold.

His fingers moved over her clit, circling slowly, his breathing ragged as she shivered over him. Her body writhed with need. She moaned, whispering encouragement and direction. “Y-yes, oh, Justin. Yes, there…oh!” Her fingernails bit into his shoulders, her cries rose until she was nearly breathless. She arched
backward, stiff and shaking, each muscle straining, her skin glowing and overheated. She shattered into a million joyous shards. Eliza collapsed against his chest, her racing heart thunderous in her ears. For a long, golden moment, she lay there, secure in his arms. Perfect.

When the world slowed its mad spinning, she shifted, rolling to one side. Eliza leaned on one elbow, gazing down at his body. She traced long, slow lines of exploration down his chest, marveling at the sprinkling of crinkly hair, the silken feel of his skin, the firm ridges of muscle underneath. She locked him with her gaze, watching the play and twist of emotion and sensation along his strong features. The quiver of his stomach as her fingers grazed lightly over his flesh urged her onward. She paused, heightening the anticipation, before allowing her hand to drift lower, wrapping her fingers firmly over his shaft. Justin groaned, his hips lifting off the bed to meet her.

Eliza stroked him, running her curled hand along the length of his cock, a breathless smile painting her lips as he gasped and strained in harmony with her movements. She lowered her mouth to him, peering up at him from under her lashes, waiting. He captured a handful of her hair, twisting it against her neck, not quite pushing where he wanted her, but urging her on, nonetheless. She relented, letting the warmth of her mouth enclose him.

“God,” Justin murmured, voice rough. “That’s so good.”

“Justin,” she cried, urging him on top of her, “love me.”

He shuddered at her words, kneeling between her legs, then covered her body with his own, his cock seeking her warm depths, his arms curling under her back, pulling her up to meet him. Hesitantly, as if afraid of hurting her, he thrust into her with slow strokes, clenching his jaw as he struggled for control. She was slick, her muscles still trembling from her climax, the
voluptuous shudder that gripped him urging him forward and faster. He took her mouth with his, tongue echoing each rapid thrust, pulling the breath out of her and taking it into himself.

Eliza gasped, her hips rising to meet his strokes, hands clenching his shoulders. Gleaming sweat broke out along his skin as he panted for breath, thrusting into her, losing his sense of self in the wonder of it. Eliza stirred under him, her legs wrapping around his hips, pulling him into her. Justin surrendered to his need, gave one final, hard stroke, holding her tightly, until he released, nearly screaming her name.