High Energy (31 page)

flesh to play and suckle to his liking.

Her hands threading his hair, clutching him intimately to her, let him know that

he was, indeed, exciting her. The tiny sounds she made confirmed it.

This time, when Tyber rubbed his shaft against her lower stomach, he was

diamond-hard.

Zanita reached down, clasping his manhood.

Her fingers stroked down the stiff shaft, lightly tracing the throbbing vein. In

a duplicating action, she simultaneously ran her open mouth down the strong

column of his throat.

Tyber sucked in his breath.

Her thumb and index finger encircled him at the base of his erection, gently

squeezing. A husky moan rolled low in his throat.

He buried his face in her hair, groaning, "Baby… baby… baby…"

She rolled the broad head of his manhood around the palm of her hand, feeling a

small droplet of liquid escape the tip. The dewy, slightly sticky droplet was

lovingly massaged back into his secret, petal-soft skin.

Tyber trembled. His whole body shook while he battled between control and the

ecstasy of the moment. Her beautiful, uninhibited lovemaking was driving him

crazy. He wanted more of her—had to have more of her—right now.

Tyber's hands came under Zanita's arms, suddenly lifting her onto him with a

power she had only seen glimpses of in the past. He slid fast into her. Deep.

Tight. Potent.

Zanita cried out from the fullness, the exquisite sensation of him so deep

inside her, so close inside her. Her arms went around his chest, tightly drawing

him to her. Then she placed the flat of her hand over her lower stomach.

He was throbbing inside her.

She could feel it beneath her fingertips! A vibrancy that was uniquely Tyberius

Augustus Evans. Her breath caught. Everything that was this man hit her in that

one instant of intimacy. Tyber.

Her eyes lifted to his, full of wonder and…

Tyber saw the look on her face, recognizing it for what it was. Moved, he

clutched her to him in a fierce grip; his lips scattered kisses over the top of

her head. "Zanita, I—"

But whatever he had been about to say was lost when she began moving on him.

He closed his eyes, letting the sensations flood him. And when he thought he

would drown in it, he clutched her buttocks, rocking her back and forth on him,

augmenting her oh-so-sweet movements with his own. He took her with him,

reveling in the exquisite feel of her, the spicy taste of her, the passionate

scent of her. He was lost in his Curls.

The only sounds in the room were the gentle bubbling of the aquariums and their

ragged, strained breathing. Then her catchy, mewling sounds, begging him for…

something, anything…

Followed by her whimpering sob. His throaty growl. Their sighs.

They collapsed together back on the bed, Tyber still holding her close to him,

his open mouth clinging to the damp skin of her neck. Leisurely, he swept the

vulnerable spot with a slow lick of his hot tongue. Zanita still shivered

beneath his touch.

"So, you see"—he nuzzled her just below her ear—"what I mean by High Energy."

"Mmm." She curled up around him. "Not a relationship; an experiment." Her face

was smiling as she drifted off into a sated slumber.

The corner of Tyber's mouth twitched in a roguish grin as he gazed down at her

sleeping in his arms. The battle was won. His satiated purr, the victor against

her dreaming lips. "A rose by any other name, my Zanita."

He lowered the Jolly Roger.

Chapter Fourteen

« ^ »

"People of Earth, do not be frightened—we are your friends."

Uh-huh. Whenever an alien said that in a nineteen-fifties sci-fi movie, all the

armed forces on the planet were immediately mobilized in a rapid montage of

black-and-white stock-footage clips. Yep. There go the Brits, the Russians, the

Chinese, what looked suspiciously like a German U-boat, and for some

inexplicable reason, the U.S. Navy—just in case the aliens were sub-mariners.

Then came the spinning newspaper headlines: Aliens among us!; U.N. Meets to

Discuss Alien Menace!; Who Goes There?; and the ever-popular call to salvation,

There's Still Time, Brother!

Zanita lay back down on the couch in the den, shoveling popcorn into her mouth.

Half her attention was on the TV screen in front of her; the other half was

mulling over recent events.

Almost a week had passed since LaLeche's visit—or extortion attempt—and they

still were not any closer to exposing him. Tyber didn't seem particularly

concerned with their lack of progress, but it was starting to worry her. How

long should she give it?

It wasn't that she was in any hurry to leave Tyber's home— just the opposite if

the truth be told.

And therein lay the problem.

She loved living here: Blooey's fussing over them, the scent of his wonderful

cooking filling the house; Hambone's cozy company; Tyber's sweet albeit

commanding nature; the house itself—an enchanting haven so utterly a home.

She had adored the fall season in this house—the change of leaves, Blooey's late

harvest and squash everywhere, after-work hot drinks on the porch or sun room

with Tyber wrapped warmly around her, fireplaces lit in the evening to ward off

the brisk chill, the cat curled up on the rug.

It was easy to look forward to the winter at My Father's Mansion.

Zanita imagined Tyber's private, walled world blanketed in white—evenings by the

fire, wrapped in her Victorian shawl, reading, cold nights cuddling together

under the soft quilts in his shell bed, cozy as clams….

It wasn't good.

In fact, it was going to be incredibly hard to leave here. And the longer she

stayed, the harder it was going to get. There was only one thing she could do;

she was going to have to set a deadline and stick by it. Story accomplished or

not, when the deadline came, she was going to have to leave.

The thought was depressing.

So how long did she wait? At least until after Thanksgiving. Before Auntie had

left, she had given Zanita her customary Thanksgiving dinner invitation to her

home in Wellesley. Of course, Hank and her grandmother would be there; it was a

family tradition, and there was no way she could get out of it. Auntie had

extended the invitation to Tyber and Blooey as well. Which meant they would all

be going as a unit. Zanita thought it would just be too awkward if she moved out

around that time.

Before Christmas?

Hmm. Blooey had seemed depressed that he wasn't going to be making Thanksgiving

dinner, so Tyber had cheered him up by promising him he could make a big

Christmas feast. He had already mentioned to her inviting her grandparents and

Mills, since Mills didn't have any close family and she usually spent the

holidays with Zanita's family. Tyber had even graciously included Auntie.

How could she mess up everyone's holiday?

This was getting increasingly tangled. She sighed. Here was prime reinforcement

of her new tenet: Nothing was ever simple when a man was involved.

"Colonel, the aliens are demanding a meeting with the King of Rock and Roll."

Zanita gaped at the set, a popcorn kernel balanced on her lips.

Tyber stood in the doorway, chuckling. "What are you watching?" He leaned

against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Aliens Uber Alles."

Another man would have scoffed at her choice of entertainment. But then, other

men weren't Doc Evans. "And you didn't call me?" He seemed miffed that he had

missed the beginning of the movie.

"I thought you were helping Blooey give Hambone a bath."

Tyber didn't respond verbally, just held up both forearms, which now sported two

long scratches.

"That's terrible! Shame on Hambone."

"He gets me every time, the scalawag." He sauntered into the room, sprawling

down on the carpet in front of the couch. Zanita held out the bowl of popcorn.

They watched the movie in companionable silence, occasionally making their usual

comments. Tyber rested back against the couch, the top of his head brushing

against her thigh. Every now and then his hand came up over his shoulder in a

blind search for the popcorn bowl. A couple of times he playfully missed,

tweaking her leg instead.

From her vantage point draped across the sofa, Zanita had an excellent view of

his long, muscular, jean-clad legs. Personal experience told her his thighs

really were as powerful as they appeared encased in those hugging pants. He

looked as sexy to her now as he had the first moment she had seen him.

The effect he had on her would never change.

Tyber was that rare type of man whose masculinity was always apparent, no matter

what he was doing. He was the only man she had ever known who could turn her on

simply by being there. Zanita was constantly crazy for the feel of him.

She exhaled, briefly debating whether or not to lean over, lift his thick fall

of hair, and nibble-kiss the back of his neck. Reluctantly, she decided against

it; such an action would undoubtedly lead to them missing the rest of the movie.

The other-worldly music suddenly increased in volume, letting the audience know

that either the aliens, or something to do with the aliens, or something the

aliens had done, was about to be seen. Zanita turned her focus from Tyber's

silky hair back to the screen.

The camera panned a stock shot of Carlsbad Caverns.

Something was moving inside the cavern, coming out. Several stalklike tentacles

were waving in the opening to the cave now. The music reached a deafening

crescendo.

A large carrot with giant eyeballs showed itself to the Earthlings, who ran

screaming for cover.

Zanita and Tyber burst out laughing.

Of course, the military was there to open up machine guns, cannons, and dynamite

onto the terrifying nemesis from outer space. Predictably, none of our superior

weapons worked.

"There's got to be some high-tension wires around there somewhere," Tyber

quipped, naming his favorite choice of monster death.

Zanita crunched on her popcorn. "Nope, I say it's the ever popular Torch Method

of Alien Decimation." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, a flame

thrower appeared stage left, turning the unfortunate invader into a fireball.

"Alien succotash. Now they'll be a two-minute voice-over rife with dire warnings

and schlock philosophy."

"... And so, they came from out there, eager for new worlds to conquer…"

"What did I tell you?" Zanita grinned.

Tyber chuckled. "Whoever said nature abhors a vacuum has never seen one of these

movies." The grin suddenly died on his face.

Zanita sat up, concerned. "Tyber, what is it?"

Nature abhors a vacuum. He had been thinking that very thing when he had his

private little chat with LaLeche last week. There was something here which

connected the two….

"I've been an idiot!" He stood up.

Zanita, kneeling on the couch, gazed up at him with a dimpled grin. "Yes, but

what specifically are you referring to?"

"What time is it?"

"About a quarter to eight—why?"

He was already headed to the phone. "If we're lucky, we can still catch them on

the West Coast."

"Catch who?" She went to stand beside him.

Tyber called Los Angeles information, asking for the number of Space Age

Systems, Inc. He met Zanita's eyes over the handset. "Bear with me." He dialed

the number, handing her the phone. "Ask them if they do anything else besides

manufacturing shuttle components."

She gave him a strange look over her shoulder, but did as he asked. Her eyes

widened as the woman on the other end responded. "Special effects in cinema."

She hung up the phone.

Tyber immediately picked it up again, redialing the number. "Not just shuttle

components as we thought." Someone answered the phone on the other end,

presumably the same woman. Tyber asked to speak to an engineer.

When he got through to the engineer, Tyber told the man who he was, launching

into a hokey explanation of some information he needed for a VR project he was

working on.

Zanita knew VR stood for virtual reality. She wondered if Tyber really was

working on such a project. At any rate, the man on the other end didn't seem to

hesitate, giving him all the information he needed. She guessed Tyber's name had

been enough of an introduction, especially since nothing he asked in any way

connected to virtual reality.

He hung up the phone, a huge smile breaking across his face. "We got him, baby."

"Tell me! Tell me!" She clutched his hands, just as excited as he was.

"That little healing demonstration he put on for us in Vermont—I know just how

he did it."

"How?" Her violet eyes got huge with anticipation. Tyber thought she looked

totally delectable. Without thinking, he lowered his head to give her a heated

kiss. She pushed against his shoulders.

"Not now, Doc! Tell me how he did it!"

"That's just it; he didn't. It was all a fake; he's a fake. Have you ever seen

those nylon filament lamps—they look like multicolored hedgehogs or sea

anemones? They were very popular back in the early eighties."

"You mean the stuff that sprouted on people's coffee tables in black box bases