Steamed (22 page)

“Four minutes and twenty seconds.”

Slowly, ever so slowly, I drifted down from the cloud of ecstasy and returned to the mortal coil. Jack’s laughing eyes and adorable grin were there to greet me.

“Eh?” was all I managed to say. My brain seemed to have ceased functioning, and was having difficulty starting back up.

His grin became even cheekier. “Less than four and a half minutes, my delicious Octavia. I don’t mean to cast any slurs on your previous boyfriends, but if they couldn’t hang on that long, then they definitely have issues.”

“Oh.” Cognizant thought finally returned. “That was . . . four minutes, you say? I’ve never done that in four minutes before. Perhaps it’s an anomaly. Perhaps I’m overly tired. No, that would affect me adversely, wouldn’t it?” I frowned as I puzzled over this new experience. “Four minutes. I can’t believe it. It’s always taken me much, much longer to get to that point. Something must be wrong. I wonder if I am ill?”

“You don’t feel sick to me,” he said, stroking his hand down my hip. My entire body hummed and quivered in response. “You feel like a woman who’s been pleasured within an inch of her life.”

“You’ve done something to me,” I accused, narrowing my eyes on him. “You’ve done something odd and foreign to me because you’re from elsewhere. That must be it.”

He laughed, and kissed my belly. The heat that had been simmering there began to spread again. My legs moved restlessly. “Sweetheart, much as I would like you to think I’m some sort of sexual superhero, I’m just a man who knows what women like. And you aren’t the cold fish you seem to think you are—you were moaning and thrashing within seconds of me touching you, so I think you’re going to have to let go of that claim, and move on to the one where you beg me to plant myself deep inside you, and make you scream out my name again.”

I am a woman who does not take to being ordered around. I prefer to think of my sexual companion as a partner, rather than someone who feels it appropriate to treat me as a mere sexual plaything to be commanded and dictated to. For that reason, I was going to give Jack Fletcher a piece of my mind.

I opened my mouth to do so, and said simply, “Yes, please.”

 

“
T
here. What do you think?” I looked down. “I think I’m wearing my corset on the outside of my blouse.”

“Yes. Don’t you think it gives you a kind of dashing look? Somewhat devil-may-care? Something that says you’re not a slave to convention, that you set your own trends?”

“I think it tells more of a state of mind so confused, I would be safer locked inside an asylum than left to wander the streets with my clothing worn inside out.”

“I don’t know,” Jack said, his head tipped to the side as he considered the bizarre sight I made. “All the steampunk ladies I met wore their corsets outside their clothes. I never once saw one hide hers.”

“Whereas I and every other woman of the empire prefer to keep our undergarments hidden,” I said, undoing the hooks along the front busk of the corset so I could remove it and redon it in the appropriate manner.

“At this time, there are only two people whom I have approved to see me in my corset. You are one.”

Rather than give me one of those endearing grins, as I expected, Jack made a face. “And this fabulous Alan who can do anything is the other?”

“Certainly not,” I said, pausing for a moment. I decided Jack needed a little reward after having been true to his promise the evening prior. I had yelled out his name again—twice, both times the most amazing experiences of my life. I’d never before thought of myself as a particularly responsive woman, but with Jack, I seemed to go up in flames the minute he touched me. I pulled off my blouse, and handed Jack the corset. “I can do this by myself, but it’s easier with a second person. Help me?”

“Who’s the other person?” he asked, taking it.

I smiled to myself as he moved behind me, his arms coming around me as he wrapped the corset on my torso. “My corset maker. No, it goes beneath my bosom, not on it.”

“Ah. Poor little boobies. Did I squash them?” His hands immediately moved to comfort my breasts, dropping the corset. I leaned back against his bare chest, a little chill of pleasure zipping up my spine at the warmth of his breath on my ear as he caressed me.

“I believe they will forgive your ignorance on the proper method of donning a corset,” I murmured, amazed at the speed of my reaction to his touch. One moment I was perfectly myself; the next my mind was full of the most detailed intimate thoughts . . . thoughts of Jack splayed out in front of me, all of his delectable flesh just lying there waiting for me to touch and taste and slide upon it.

I turned my head, letting my lips nibble along his jaw. “Jack—”

He understood the warning. “We don’t have time for this.”

“No. Not if we are going to have time to reconnoiter before we meet Alan.” I turned in his arms, intending on giving him a consolatory kiss before continuing to dress, but somehow, the second my mouth touched his, I lost all thought but one.

“Octavia?” he asked as I pushed him backward, toward the armless chair that sat next to the narrow wardrobe.

“We’ll take a cab,” I said, my hands on the buttons on his trousers. “It’ll save fifteen minutes’ walking time.”

His eyes lit up. “A quickie? You want a quickie? Right now?”

“I don’t know that term, but assuming it means what I think it means, then yes, I want a quickie,” I said, pushing him on the shoulder. He sat down abruptly, his trousers gaping open, his hands on my waist as I hoisted up my skirt and petticoat, and settled myself on his thighs.

“Dear God, woman, you don’t know what this means to me. I’ve always been a big fan of quickies, and ever since we got out of bed, all I could think about was making love to you againnrn.”

His eyelids flickered shut as I sank down on him, my intimate self embracing and welcoming his intrusion. “Too much talking, Jack,” I said, gasping as I felt him deep inside me. “Thank heavens you are so quick to arouse. I wasn’t sure if you would be ready for me, but there you are, quite obviously so. A bit more ready than I expected, to be honest. Merciful saints, I can’t believe you can do that. Do it again!”

He flexed his hips again, his head lolled back so I could kiss his throat and adorable face, his fingers gentle but persistent on my breasts as they teased and stroked them. “You’re trying to take charge again, Octavia.”

I bit his lip as I moved on him, the rhythm neither slow nor gentle, but one driven by the intense need inside me that I knew he shared. “You said we would take turns. I am having my turn. Do it again.”

He laughed, but flexed again, touching me in that magical way he had that made my eyes cross with pleasure. “You had your turn earlier this morning. Now we’re back to my turn to be the boss, and I say do that swivel thing you did earlier.”

I rose up until just the tip of him was gripped, then slid down him again, swiveling my hips and gripping as hard as I could with intimate muscles. He sucked in his breath, his eyes snapping open, his breath coming hard and fast. “One more like that and it’ll be all over.”

I tightened my thighs around his hips, the rough material of his trousers rubbing against my sensitive flesh, our bodies moving together in a way that was familiar and yet foreign to me, as if he were a stranger that I had known in a previous lifetime. He pulled my head down to capture my cry of completion in his mouth, his fingers urging me on as he found his own moment of ecstasy.

It was at that moment I realized that we had forgotten the French Preventative.

 

“Octavia, I can’t stand this cold treatment. I said I was sorry. I didn’t think you were going to fling yourself on me, so I wasn’t . . . er . . . ready to go, so to speak.”

I pulled myself out of the reverie that had claimed me and looked across the cab at Jack. “You’re sorry about what?”

He frowned. “What do you think? You’ve been sitting there pouting because I forgot the damned condom earlier, and I don’t know what else to say other than I won’t leave you if you get pregnant because of it.”

“Pregnant? Oh. I suppose that’s possible, yes,” I said, considering that idea. “I don’t think it’s likely to happen, though.”

“You’re not worried about getting pregnant?” Jack asked, looking confused. He ran his hand through his hair, a gesture that always threatened to make my knees turn to jelly. I realized then that he had taken my silence as condemnation regarding the earlier comment I made about the Preventative. I moved over to his seat, tenderly pushing back the lock of hair he had dislodged down onto his forehead.

“No, although I appreciate the fact that you thought I was. I am very au courant with scientific studies, you know, including those by female doctors. I do not believe that I am currently in a fertile time of the month, although I’ve heard it is best to be safe, thus the Preventatives. Also, they are beneficial in guarding one’s health in other ways. I thought you understood that. They are for your protection, as well, you know, although I do not have any illnesses that I’m aware of. Still—”

“You don’t have to give me a birth control lecture,” he interrupted, pulling me across him for a fast kiss. “And I can assure you that I’m STD free, as well, although I suppose we should probably keep using those condoms, even if it is strange seeing ones with little ribbons on the ends to tie them on. I shudder to think what they’re made of, though.”

“Sheep gut, I imagine. What are your Preventatives made from?”

“Latex,” he said, a slow smile coming to his face. “Now, there’s another fortune waiting to happen. I wonder if I could manufacture some here?”

I said nothing, my thoughts returning to the upcoming meeting with Alan.

Jack prattled on for a few more minutes, before suddenly squeezing me. “You’re doing it again.”

“I am not worried about becoming pregnant,” I said.

“Then why are you ignoring me? You’ve got a distant look in your eyes like you’re trying to forget I’m sitting next to you.”

I was about to make a sharp retort when I saw the uncertainty in his eyes. I leaned over him, instead, licking his lips. “I assure you, Mr. Fletcher, I very much enjoy you sitting next to me.”

His lips curled into a smile as I nibbled on the corners of his mouth. “I love how your eyes go all soft and shadowy when you flirt with me. If you weren’t being pissed at me, what were you thinking about?”

I sat back, sighing ever so softly. “Alan.”

“Oh. Him.”

“Don’t even think of doing that,” I said, pointing my finger at his face.

He rearranged his expression from one of martyrdom to that of outrage. “Doing what?”

“Pretending that you’re inferior to him. You are my lover, Jack, not him. Not anymore. If I had wanted Alan, I would still be with him, but I don’t. I can’t help that he’s still a very dear friend, one who is in a position to help us.”

Jack struggled with his pride for a moment, but eventually he slumped back against the seat of the cab. “Dammit.” He suddenly stiffened up again, his eyes narrowing. “Just so he knows that you’re with me, and that he’s not looking to start anything with you again.”

“I’m sure he won’t give me a second thought beyond doing what we ask him to do,” I said, turning my attention to the streets as we drove toward the square where earlier that morning we had arranged to meet Alan. I bit my lip, mentally going over the things I could say, and what would best be left unspoken.

The rest of the ride was thankfully in silence, Jack refraining from asking me exactly what I was mulling over. I was growing increasingly uncomfortable with the fact that there were secrets to be kept from him, necessary secrets, but still, my emotions concerning Jack were beginning to take on a depth and breadth that I had not anticipated.

It is the sheerest folly to have anything for him but mild affection,
I lectured myself as we rolled along the now-quiet streets of Rome.
To feel anything else will only cause heartache and ultimately sorrow. Be content with a physical relationship, and don’t look for anything that cannot be.

I was still warning myself against the folly of errant emotions when we reached our meeting point. Alan’s carriage was waiting, the imperial insignia on the door alerting all who saw it that the occupant was there on the emperor’s business.

“Jack,” I said as we paid off the cab. I eyed him, unsure of how to put into words that which I wanted to say.

Alan stepped out of his carriage and waved. I waved back.

Jack took my hand, glowered for a moment toward Alan, then, out of the blue, confused me by grinning. “This is kind of like meeting your parents, huh?”

“What is?” I asked as he tugged me forward, toward where Alan awaited us.

“Meeting the former boyfriend. Don’t worry, sweetheart. I won’t embarrass you. I won’t growl and snap and be all he-man around your buddy. What happened before we met doesn’t matter, does it?”