26. Wild Type
26
Wild Type
Wild type: The most commonly occurring form of a gene or allele in a natural population.
OLIVER
W hen the chicken was done, Savannah convinced me she should be the one to tap on Tessa’s door to see if she was interested in joining us for dinner. I’d hardly had time to wipe down the countertops when Savannah’s slipper scuffed on the tile, followed by the slap of Tessa’s bare feet.
Her hair stuck up on one side, and she had a pillow crease across that cheek. She wasn’t as pale as she’d been that afternoon, and her cheeks reddened when she saw me.
“You’re still here.” She combed her fingers through her hair and winced when they snagged on a tangle.
I wrung the dishcloth to keep myself from going to her and touching her feral mane. “I promised I would be.”
She hummed and glanced at the third place setting on her table.
“Do you want me to go?” I thought we’d grown closer over the last few weeks, that my plan to woo her was working. Had I misread the signals again?
“No,” Savannah answered for her. “Of course not.”
“Do you want me to leave, Tessa?” I repeated.
Her gaze flicked to me, then to the table. After a moment, she said, “Stay.”
It was something people said to dogs, but I didn’t mind. After I’d burst into her home uninvited, after I’d seen her struggle with her pain, all I wanted was to remain a little longer to see that she was okay. Fine, and also watch her eat food I’d helped prepare. Some long-dormant hunter-gatherer part of my DNA had switched on.
When I pulled out her chair, she rolled her eyes. “Are you going to toss your cloak over a mud puddle? Write me a sonnet?”
“Come on now.” Savannah set a plate of food in front of her. “It’s only a chair.”
“I thought shit like that died out with the boomers,” Tessa grumbled. “Our guest is a millennial. Like your kids.”
I pulled out Savannah’s chair, and she patted my hand before she sat. “How old do you think I am? My kids are Gen Z. And aren’t you the one always telling me age is just a number?”
I was listening so hard for Tessa’s response that when I reached for the remaining two plates in the oven, I missed and touched the hot metal rack. I stifled a yelp.
“One hundred percent,” Tessa said. “When we’re talking about you.”
Eyes watering, I stuck my thumb in my mouth to cool the burn, then more carefully grabbed the plates and carried them to the table.
“You two are both millennials,” Savannah said. “The generation started in 1981.”
Tessa glanced at me as I set her plate in front of her. “Officially, I’m an elder millennial,” she said, “but I identify as Gen X. I’m a hardened skeptic.”
“Well, I’m fully Gen X. And speaking of birthdays,” Savannah said, “I’ve decided I want a party for mine. I never used to make a big deal about my birthdays, but now”—she breathed in deep, then let it out—“I want a big deal.”
“Good for you,” Tessa said. “You deserve a party.”
“When is it?” I asked.
“In two weeks. I know that’s not a lot of time to plan.” Savannah turned to Tessa. “I was hoping we could have a party here.” Savannah said. “Your place is perfect for entertaining.”
“Except for the hidden entrance,” I mumbled.
She waved her hand. “It adds to the charm. We can leave the gate open.”
“There’s a gate?” If I’d known that, I could’ve saved my pants.
Tessa’s eyes were wide and wild like a cornered animal’s. “A party here?”
“Only our closest friends,” Savannah said. “No one you’d regret knowing where you live. The girls and their partners. My three kids, if that’s okay. I’ll cook. But you don’t have to decide now. You can think about it.”
Looking slightly sick, Tessa poked at her chicken with her fork.
“We could go to a restaurant instead,” Savannah said.
Tessa scrubbed a hand over her face. “No. We’ll have it here. Invite your kids. But not Jason.”
“Of course not.” Savannah bristled. Then she said more gently, “Eat. You need the protein.”
After that, Savannah changed the subject, asking me about work, and soon Tessa joined in, seeming more like my prickly, brilliant colleague. Someone I’d kissed and whom I’d chased to her house when she didn’t show up for work. Fuck, what was wrong with me? I wished I could be normal around her. Be her coworker and keep some boundaries. But whenever I caught sight of that long, auburn hair I wanted to tangle my fingers in, her freckled skin I wanted to caress, every rational thought left me.
“You’re staring,” she whispered, leaning toward me when Savannah got up to get more water.
I blinked away from her soft-looking lips. “Sorry, I…are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah. The nap helped.”
“It’s time for another pill.” Savannah plunked the bottle in front of her.
“I think I’ll be okay,” Tessa said. “In fact, I’ll do the dishes.”
When we protested, Tessa said, “You cooked. I’ll clean.”
“Savannah did most of the work,” I said, “so I’ll help you.”
“Fine,” Savannah said. “My bestie and I’ll watch.” She snagged the black cat, Kat, off the counter and pulled her into her lap, scratching behind her ears.
As I put away the leftovers, my new best friend, Hedy, rubbed her striped face on my ankle until I gave her a bite of chicken. (After Tessa said it was okay.)
When the kitchen was spotless again, Savannah stretched and gave a big fake-sounding yawn. “I want to read for a bit in bed. G’night, y’all.”
“You’re leaving?” Tessa’s eyes went wide.
“I don’t think y’all need a chaperone. In fact, Oliver, why don’t you walk Tessa to her room. Make sure she doesn’t fall?” And she winked at me before walking out.
Savannah had to be the least subtle person I’d ever met. Yet I liked her. A lot. I crooked my elbow. “You ready, Tessa?”
“It’s only seven-thirty,” she grumbled. “I’m not tired yet.”
“Okay,” I said. “Want to watch TV or play a game?”
She considered for a moment, those jade-green eyes assessing me. “No. I have a better form of entertainment in mind.” She took my arm. “Let’s go.”
My mind spun as we strolled to her room. Did she mean the type of entertainment I thought she did? I’d made the rules before, but now I’d broken them all by invading her castle like a rogue. I opened the door for her, and she passed me, close enough for a waft of her clean scent. My mind blanked.
She asked, “You staying?”
My gaze was drawn to the bed like it was a black hole. “If you want.”
“I’m not tired.” Her tone seemed to be a warning.
I barreled right through the caution tape. “Me neither.”
“Good.” Her lips quirked up at the sides. “Give me a minute.” She went into the attached bathroom.
I used the bathroom in the hall. There was some toothpaste in the drawer, but I didn’t presume to use the toothbrush that was still in its package. Instead, I used my finger, then I rinsed my fingers and ran them through my hair to get it out of my eyes. I needed a haircut.
Back in her bedroom, I straightened the covers, then pulled them back on her side. No, she’d asked me to stay. I folded back the sheets on the other side too. Like in Vegas, the bed was big enough for both of us.
The bathroom door opened, and she emerged wearing a soft-looking bathrobe in dark gray. I swallowed.
She tipped her head to the side. “You’re still wearing clothes. Were you serious about wanting to play a board game?”
“Um…not really?” I could think of a lot of things I wanted to do with her, and none of them involved dice.
“Are you one of those guys who’s icked out by period sex?”
“God, no.” As if to prove the point, my dick pressed against my zipper.
She set her fingers on the tie of her robe. “Then why are you still dressed?”
I looked down at myself, surprised my clothes hadn’t spontaneously combusted. I shucked off my trousers, wincing when I rediscovered the rip in the seam. They tangled at my ankles.
Shit, I’d forgotten to take off my shoes.
I sat awkwardly on the bed to wrestle them off. When my legs were free, I unbuttoned my shirt. My fingers shook, so it took longer than it should’ve. I left my boxers on, but they didn’t hide my erection at all.
I stepped closer to her and traced one lapel of her robe. “Can I?”
She nodded.
I untied the belt, then pushed the robe off her shoulders. She was naked underneath, and I took a minute to enjoy the glorious view of her freckled skin. They covered her body, denser on her arms and lower legs, lighter over her breasts and stomach. My breath quickened as I ran my hand down the smooth skin of her arm, like I’d been dying to do for months.
Her touch feather-light, she caressed from my shoulder to the top of my right pec. “You’re hairier than I thought you’d be.”
I furrowed my brows. “Is that a bad thing?”
“No.” She swirled a finger into the hair over my breastbone. “It’s an observation. I like it.”
“I love your body.” Her breasts were on the smaller side, a perfect fit for my palms. I traced a line from her shoulder to her nipple, then circled the areola with my fingertip. “Good?”
“Mmm.” She closed her eyes.
“Does your endometriosis give you pain with sex?”
“Someone’s done his research.”
Her breath hitched when I gave her nipple a gentle pinch. “It’s an important question.”
“Not usually. Only if it’s particularly rough.”
“And you’ll let me know if you feel any pain?”
She pressed her breast into my hand. “Yes. Promise.”
I lowered my mouth to her breast and licked the reddened tip. Then I closed my lips around it and sucked. Her warm skin tasted earthy with a barely-there tang of something fresh and herbal. I opened my mouth wider to take in more of her. She clasped my head and held it to her, so I kept going, licking and sucking one breast while my fingers plucked at the other nipple. She responded with a moan, her chest heaving.
I trailed my other hand to her hip and spoke against her skin. “What can I touch down here?”
“Any…anything. I’m wearing a m-menstrual disc. We can even do p-penetration. If you want.”
God, did I want. I wanted everything. With one last draw on her nipple, I pulled away. “Lie down.”
“Bossy.” She pulled a thin, dark blanket from the bottom drawer of her bedside table and spread it over the sheets.
“Is that a sex blanket?” I’d never seen one in real life.
“Things could get messy.” Her russet eyebrow lifted, daring me.
“I like messy when it comes to sex. And I love being prepared.”
“Of course you do.” She sat on the edge of the bed and reclined onto the blanket.
Her body was perfect. Her cheeks and chest were flushed, and her nipples were red. And, damn, her freckles. I could spend hours counting them, if she’d let me.
She grabbed two pillows from the other side of the bed and set them next to her hip.
“What’re those for?” I asked.
She flashed me a sultry smile. “What, we’re not building a barrier tonight?”
I scratched my chin. “Well, if you’d rather I stay on my side and not eat you out, then?—”
“Wait.” She rubbed her thighs together. “I want the eating out. I was joking.”
“Thank god.” I grabbed the pillows from her joke of a fort and nudged them under her hips, spreading her legs wide. “Comfortable?”
“Yes, though if you ask me for a set of stirrups?—”
Her cheeky comment turned into a gasp when I licked her swollen labia. I explored her with my tongue, remapping all the places I’d learned in the supply closet. But this time there was no fear of anyone walking in, no burning sense of guilt about having sex at work. So I got comfortable on my knees and reveled in her soft skin, her sweet taste, and the tangy scent of her arousal. I licked, nibbled, and caressed until her thighs trembled and she slid her fingers down her stomach.
I batted them away. “This one’s mine,” I growled as I tapped the nub with my thumb.
She stiffened. “I’m so close,” she rasped.
I wanted to stay here forever, edging her, worshiping her. But I couldn’t resist giving her what she wanted. “Don’t worry, baby,” I said. “I’ve got you.” Then I couldn’t talk anymore because my mouth was on her clit. I sucked the way I’d done with her nipples.
She groaned, then her hips quaked under me. Finally, a yell ripped from her throat as she tensed. I eased up on the suction but didn’t stop licking and fingering her until her body went limp and she tapped weakly against my forehead. I kissed the inside of her thigh, then scooted up the bed and grinned. “Tired yet?”
“Don’t be smug. Also, why are you still not naked?” Her hand landed lightly on my erection where it tented my boxers.
My vision went gray around the edges. “I didn’t want to presume.”
She clenched the head, and the room faded until there was only her hand on my dick, electrifying every cell in my body. Even my hair follicles were sensitized. I was going to explode. I pressed my hips into her hand. She wasn’t touching my skin yet, and I was dying. “Lube? And a condom?”
“Top drawer.”
I opened the drawer of her bedside table and found the bottle, plus a handful of condoms and a selection of vibrators.
“My god, you look like a kid in a candy store,” she said.
“Your bedroom is the most amazing place. Can I use one of these on you?”
“Later. Right now, I want you.”
My heart was going to fly right out of my body, and I couldn’t keep the grin off my face.
“Stop being smug and fuck me,” she growled.
I noted a finger vibe I’d use later, then I set the lube and a condom on the bed.
When I shucked off my boxers, she licked her lips. “On second thought, why don’t I suck you off?”
My fingers froze on the condom wrapper. “That sounds amazing, but I’m right on the edge. I want to come inside you.” Like a caveman, I wanted her to feel me inside her, to leave an imprint there as if that were possible. Sex does funny things to people’s otherwise rational brains. I had enough presence of mind to add, “If that’s okay.”
“You won’t be grossed out?”
“Why would I be grossed out? I love your body. It’s doing what it’s meant to do.”
Her lips wobbled for a second, then her expression neutralized. “Fine. Let’s do this.”
Before she could change her mind, I rolled on the condom and squirted lube into my palm. I slicked up the condom quickly, then I touched a slippery finger to her outer lips. She hissed.
“Still good?” I asked, smearing the liquid over her.
“Yeah. I wasn’t sure I’d be ready again so soon, but I guess”—her breath stuttered—“I guess I am.”
I slipped a finger inside her, and she groaned. “More.”
I swiped up the rest of the lube from my palm and pushed two fingers inside her. She ground against my hand, gasping when my palm touched her clit. “Now, Oliver,” she said.
My fingers made juicy sounds against her skin, and she was open and ready. I was ready, probably too ready. Silently, I started counting down from one hundred as I slipped my fingers from her body. Grasping the base of the condom, I nudged her opening with my head. Then I thrust in.
Her muscles fluttered around me, and it was all I could do to keep counting. I stilled, adjusting to the pressure as my balls tightened. I couldn’t go off like a teenager. I had to prove to this woman I had some control. I took a centering breath and gazed down at her.
She watched me with an unfamiliar expression. Was it uncertainty that made her bite her lip?
Bracing on my hands, I leaned forward and kissed her, trying to reassure her—maybe myself too—that we were good, that neither of us had anything to fear. Not from each other, and not from this new intimacy. For once, I wasn’t thinking about work. All that mattered was the amazing woman beneath me with her glorious body and her beautiful face.
When I pulled back to admire her, her expression went hazy. “Do that again,” she murmured.
I leaned down to kiss her, pouring every bit of reassurance I could into it. The fact that we were coworkers, our age gap, our wildly different perspectives on risk, none of it mattered. Our bodies knew it. We only had to convince our brains. Her body tightened around me, and I pulled back again.
“Are you close?” I asked. “Just from kissing?”
“Just from kissing?” She gripped my ass, her short nails digging into my skin and making me grunt. “Five minutes ago, I came so hard I saw stars. Your dick is inside me, and you’re kissing me like it’s your job. How do you do that?”
“What can I say? I’m a natural. And I like to be thorough.” I wished it was my job to kiss her. It was effortless, unlike my real job. So I did it again, and this time when she constricted around me, I pulled out then snapped my hips forward, tapping her clit with my stomach. Nonsense words poured out of my mouth, praising her body and telling her how good it felt.
“God, yes,” she said against my mouth.
I thrust into her again. She wrapped her legs around me, pulling me closer until our hips met. I ground against her. It was all I could do to hold off until I felt the compression of her orgasm as she let out a hoarse cry. Finally, I let myself thrust wildly into her until my release surged through me, pleasure flooding all the way to my toes.
When my rational brain came back online, my shoulders stiffened. She’d said sex could be painful when it was too vigorous, and I’d lost control. “Did I hurt you? Was that too much?”
She grasped the back of my head and pulled me down for another kiss, this one softer, more constrained. “It was perfect. But no pet names.”
“Pet names?” I glanced around for one of the cats.
“You called me baby. The first time, when you went down on me, and again just now.”
“Did I?” I vaguely remembered it, but I’d said a lot of stuff.
“Did you forget? You’re not even the one who’s been taking prescription painkillers.”
Was she arguing with me while I was still inside her? “What’s wrong with baby?”
“It’s soft and gentle. I’m neither.”
No, but my feelings for her were both. “What can I call you?”
“Tessa.” She moved her head in a way that would have been a toss if she weren’t lying down. “Not Theresa, and never Tess.”
I kissed her neck. “So princess is out?”
“Absolutely.”
“Dear?”
“I’m not that old.”
“Ginger Spice?”
“My god, I wanted to be her so bad in 1997. But no.” Her expression went steely. “Absolutely no pet names. What did I say about falling in love with me?”
I had to clear the lump from my throat to let the lie through. “I’m not in love with you.” Not completely. But I was teetering on the edge. Gently, I pulled out of her.
There was a smear of blood on the condom, and a small amount trickled onto the creamy skin of her upper thigh. “Hang on, I’ll be right back with a tissue.”
When she saw the condom, she winced, and her cheeks flushed. “Sorry. It’s gross.”
I clambered off the bed, but I didn’t go into the bathroom. “Blood isn’t gross. We work with it all the time in the lab. Your period is a normal human function. I had a great time. I’m still having a great time.” At least I was, until she’d reminded me she’d never make the mistake of falling for me.
In the bathroom, I tossed the condom in the trash, wiped myself clean, and washed my hands. I met my disappointed gaze in the mirror and narrowed my eyes. You just slept with the world’s most amazing woman. Focus on that, not on the fact that she doesn’t want you for anything more than your dick. Taking a deep breath, I grabbed a few tissues and returned to the bedroom.
She was sitting up, scrubbing at her thighs with a tissue. “Thank goodness for the blanket, right?” Her voice was too high, and she didn’t meet my gaze.
“Hey.” I stilled her hand and took the wadded-up tissue from her. Then I wiped the stain from her leg more gently than she’d been doing. “I love this blanket. I think I might get one for myself.”
She snorted. “Sure you will.”
“I’ll get two. One for my couch and another for the bed. We can make love everywhere.”
“You mean have sex . Don’t romanticize this.”
Ouch. I knew she was on defense after letting herself be vulnerable, but it still hurt. I glanced at the pile of clothes by the side of the bed.
“Want me to go, or can I stay over?”
“The security system is a pain to navigate at night. You can stay. If you want.” Her shrug was anything but casual.
“Thanks. I’d like that.” I lifted her hand and caressed it. Her cheeks went redder, obscuring the freckles.
I returned to the bathroom to toss the trash and wash my hands. She went in after me, so I folded the blanket onto her side and lay down to wait.
She returned and settled beside me, then flicked off the lamp. I slipped my arm over her waist. “Is this okay?”
“Sure.” In the darkness, I couldn’t see her expression, but that one word seemed to come from behind a brick wall.
“Did someone make you feel bad about your period?” I asked.
She snorted again. “Nearly everyone. My dad, my ex, society at large. Women are expected to have children, but no one wants the mess that comes with it. Mine are so heavy I don’t usually hook up when I’m having my period.”
Hook up? Hurtful. But I stroked from her ribs to her hip. “Your body is amazing, inside and out.”
The pillow rustled when she turned her head, but it was too dark to see her expression. “You really believe that, don’t you?”
“One hundred percent.”
“Stop being perfect,” she said, “and go to sleep.”