3. Crankshaft Control Theory
THREE
CRANKSHAFT CONTROL THEORY
Evan
The thong is unexpected.
But then again, so was getting launched ten feet in the air by a five-foot-six safety engineer in front of twenty-plus cheering kids.
Speaking of…
“I see your butt.” The little girl giggles before pressing her hand to her mouth.
Kaley makes a strangled noise before grabbing hold of my shirt and yanking me to her. “Don’t. Move.”
I’m too shocked to move if I wanted to at the sudden feel of the length of her back pressed up against my front. “Yeah. Sure. Got it.” I grab her hips, making sure to close the gap, and therefore the line of sight toward her backside, from view.
This time the strangled noise she makes is at a higher pitch, but she clasps both of my hands and wraps them around her middle, effectively anchoring me to her.
“Okay.” Her nails dig into my forearm. “What do we do?”
Oddly pleased by the ‘we’ in her question, I scan the area for an idea on getting Kaley out of the festival. “My office is right across the lot.” I point to Building Ten with my free arm. “I have an extra set of coveralls.” I tilt my head, trying to see her face. “Will that work?”
From her profile, I can see her right nostril flare as she nods. “Yes. Okay.” She takes a step, then immediately retreats when it creates space between us.
“Hold on.” I hold her more firmly against me. “We’re gonna have to do this together.”
“Do what?”
We start, both of us having forgotten about the little girl still standing beside us.
“Um…” Kaley trails off, probably at a loss on how to explain the situation to a child.
I don’t even bother trying. “You want more astronaut ice cream?” My voice is loud enough that quite of a few of the surrounding kids hear too.
Their chorus of yeses draws the rest of the younger crowd’s attention.
I point to the other side of the bouncy house, where my co-worker Andy has just shown up for his shift of festival duty. “He has it.”
Like a rocket, they take off.
I’d find the horrified expression on Andy’s face hilarious if I wasn’t so concerned with getting Kaley and her thong out of the children’s area before she gets arrested by NASA security for indecent exposure.
Making a mental note to apologize to Andy later, I straighten behind Kaley and line up my toes against her heels. “Ready?”
She replies with a hard nod. “Let’s do this.” Her terrified expression morphs into determination. “I’ll call out the steps.”
Damn, she’s cute.
“Right. Left. Right.” Her feet move accordingly, and I follow.
Moving in tandem, we manage to make it halfway across the lot before another problem arises.
This one mine.
With my nose full of lemons and my arms full of Kaley, my body starts reacting to what my brain already registered—between her torn pants and non-existent underwear, with each step, I’m rubbing against her with only my boxer briefs and a single layer of denim between us.
Which has me thinking of the last time she and I were plastered this close together, though that time we were face to face and?—
“ Stop. ”
“What’s wrong?” Kaley’s ponytail whips me across the face as she turns one way and then another, searching for a threat.
“This isn’t working.” I attempt to ease back, but she clutches my arms tighter, grinding her ass against me.
Contact .
Kaley stills. “Oh.”
We’re quiet for a moment, Kaley probably questioning her life choices, me reciting the periodic table in hopes of quelling the chemical reaction happening in my pants.
And then salvation appears in all its carbon fiber glory.
Lifting an arm, I stick two fingers in my mouth and whistle, the sound as piercing as Kaley’s nails, which she’s dug into the arm still wrapped around her midsection.
Wincing, I wave at astronaut Vance Bodaway, aka Bodie, driving the Lunar Terrain Vehicle out from Building Nine. “You trust me, right?”
If possible, Kaley’s nails dig deeper as the LTV changes direction and heads our way. “Not in the slightest.”
“Cool.” Hurtful, but not unexpected, given the state of things.
The few minutes it takes the LTV prototype—one I helped build—to reach us thanks to its top speed of nine miles an hour are excruciatingly long.
Bodie’s wife, Rose, sits beside him wearing a bedazzled pink astronaut jumpsuit, despite the fact that she isn’t, in fact, an astronaut. Looking like a beauty queen on parade, she waves vigorously as they approach. “Hi, y’all!”
If she takes notes of how uncomfortably close Kaley and I are standing, or our pained expressions, she doesn’t show it.
Kaley manages a weak wave in return, relieving my forearm from her death grip.
“What’s up, Mitchell?” Bodie, who, from his expression, has taken in how absurd Kayley and I look, pulls the rover to a stop alongside us. “Everything okay?"
No. It is not okay.
But considering I’d rather not embarrass Kaley by explaining about her pants ripping or myself by stepping back from Kaley and flaunting my ill-timed hard-on, I stay where I am and go with “We need a ride.”
Bodie laughs. “To where?”
“My office.”
His smile dims as he twists in his seat to look twenty yards over to Building Ten, also known as NASA’s playground, the place where all the cool stuff like SAFER jet pack components and lunar terrain vehicle prototypes are made.
Taking in the short distance, he turns back to me looking as confused as Kaley had been when I explained my ball pit escape plan.
“Um, okay.” He lifts his chin, gesturing for us to board. “Climb on up.”
“Yeah…” I scan the small, two-seater rover. “No.”
With Bodie and Rose sitting, Kaley and I would have to stand on the metal-grate running board while holding on to the exposed overhead roll cage like someone hanging off the side of a dune buggy.
Not the best way to keep from flashing NASA’s Youth at Work attendees.
I offer a small, apologetic smile. “I’m gonna need to highjack the LTV.”
Bodie laughs again, sobering quickly when he sees my expression. “You serious?”
Kaley shifts on her feet, freezing when her ass rubs across my hard-on again. “Sorry,” she whispers.
Rose is one of the most intuitive people I’ve known—which considering where I work and who I work with, says a lot.
It takes her all of a second to assess the situation before she stands, arms crossed over her bedazzled, low-zipped chest, her bright pink glossed lips sliding up in a sly smile. “Babysitting.”
Leave it to Rose to negotiate while others are in a crisis.
Add ‘the most diabolical’ to her list of attributes.
But considering the situation, I don’t have much choice.
“One night,” I offer. Which, despite my epic failure of entertaining a crowd of elementary school-age kids, isn’t much of a hardship. Bodie and Rose’s one-year-old little girl, Citali, loves me.
Bodie frowns at Rose, then me. He won’t admit it, but he’s jealous about how much his little girl likes me. “Now wait a minute, what is?—”
Rose’s eyes narrow. “Three nights.”
“Two,” I counter, then remember who I’m dealing with. “And not consecutively.” Last time I agreed to babysit, she tried to make it a sleepover event.
Kaley, sounding as confused as Bodie looks, lifts her chin toward me. “What are you?—”
“Deal.” Rose slaps Bodie’s shoulder. “Up you go, babe.”
Bodie, usually known for his stoic, laid-back personality that helps him work and live with other astronauts’ more dynamic personalities thousands of miles in space in relatively close quarters, rubs both hands down his face.
“Listen, you two. I can’t just turn over the LTV. That’s not how things work.”
“Here.” Rose, ignoring her husband, addresses Kaley. “This way.” Turning her back on the distant festival, Rose acts as a shield, blocking Kaley from view. “Up you go.”
Kaley, a look of everlasting gratitude on her face, smiles at Rose. “Thank you.”
Once Kaley gets seated—with minimal flashing—I circle over to the driver’s side, where Bodie, at odds with his words, stands. “Can you at least explain to me what is going on?”
“Aw, sweetie.” Rose comes up next to him, caressing his cheek. “It’s a good thing you’re so pretty.”
He snorts, looking inordinately pleased for a grown man being treated like an idiot by his wife.
“Don’t worry.” I sit quickly, hoping no one caught sight of my slowly calming cock-stand. “I’ll explain it all later.”
Seeming more like herself now that her ass is properly covered and not being poked at, Kaley points to the control deck. “You do know how to drive this thing, right?”
Feeling ten times more confident now that I’m on solid ground and not fighting an erection, I cock an eyebrow in her direction. “Baby, I helped build this thing.”
The moment becomes anti-climactic as I start up the rover, and instead of the normal vibration from engine components resonating through an exhaust system, the rover’s battery emits a high-pitched whine.
Bodie covers his face, his shoulders shaking.
“By the way”—Rose steps up to the rover, addressing Kaley—“you’ll have to take me with you next time you go underwear shopping.” She reaches her arm across me, holding her fist out for Kaley to bump. “Because that thong is fabulous.”