Alone in the room with Holden, it felt peaceful at last. She turned down the music and glanced over to see if he had noticed, but he seemed involved with the diary. So she took over two beers and sat beside him again, holding one out for him. He took it and nodded his thanks, but still didn’t take his eyes from the book.
When he did speak, it wasn’t anything Dana was expecting to hear.
“‘The pain outlives the flesh. The flesh returns… or re… has a meeting place… towards the pain’s ascension.’” He was obviously reading from the diary, brow furrowed, one finger following the words.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“The Latin. That you—”
“You speak Latin?” she asked, surprised.
“Not well, and not since tenth grade. Weird how it comes back.” He sipped his beer, frowning at the book a little longer before closing it and tossing it to one side. It landed on the sofa and flopped open again, to the exact page he’d been reading. Dana noticed, but Holden didn’t seem to.
Finally, he only had eyes for her.
“Well, it’s been a weird time. I’m so sorry about… tonight.” She shrugged. “You know. Everybody.”
“Do I lose points if I tell you I’m having a pretty nice time?” he asked.
“No, you can tell me that. No points lost.” She sipped her own beer, and watched Holden get up and stoke the fire. He threw on more logs and used the poker, rooting around and blowing gently on the glowing embers until the crackle of flames rose again. They were small to begin with, but they would spread. Warmth bled outward from the fire again, and Dana relaxed deeper into the sofa.
Holden sat back down beside her, closer than ever, and placed his arm across the back of the sofa behind her. It wasn’t a secretive move, and his hand rested easily on her shoulder. Dana leaned sideways until her head touched his shoulder and thought, Maybe it’ll be an okay evening after all. Maybe Curt just needs to get laid, and Jules is drunk on first-night excitement, and Marty… Marty’s just high.
But then as the flames sparked higher she thought of Holden’s translation of the Latin she’d read out: The pain outlives the flesh. And even through the fresh heat she felt goosebumps prickling her arms.
Jules ran. Perspiration was cooling all over her, chilling her, making her muscles seem frozen and her skin prickle with a million points of ice.
Footsteps pounded behind her, closing, closing, and she put on an extra spurt of speed. The darkness did not slow her, and neither did the feel of spider webs breaking across her face and neck as she ducked between trees. Maybe she was more drunk than she thought, or perhaps it was just the thrill of the chase. The chase, she’d always known, was better than the catch, and maybe that was why she’d always had guys in the palm of her hand.
There were her looks, sure; she knew she was a scorcher. But she also knew what guys wanted, and when, perhaps better than they. There was a difference between leading them on toward nothing, and racing them toward something.
So she ran, giggling, breathing hard, skirting the lake to her right and curving around into a part of the woods they hadn’t seen before. And just when she judged the moment was right she slowed a little, feeling Curt’s arm close around her waist as he skidded to a stop and swept her from her feet. Her legs kicked up and he turned, bringing her around to stand again before him.
In his other hand he was still carrying his beer cup, most of it spilled now, but some still glinting in the bottom. He was grinning. Breathing hard. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him quite like this, but then she also felt…
Different, she thought. And horny as all hell. The afternoon’s shower escapades had, it seemed, been just a prelude.
“Come here!” he said, pulling her close, the remaining beer slopping from the cup.
“Ah! Don’t spill on me!”
“Thought you liked it when I spilled on you.”
“Your beer, pig.” But Jules giggled, writhing in his grasp.
“Did I get a little beer on your shirt?” He kissed her deep and hard. “I guess it’ll have to come off.” He threw the beer cup away and started plucking at her buttons. She pulled back playfully, shirt stretching.
“Not here,” she teased.
“Oh, come on…” He paused and looked around, grinning. “We’re all alone.” He pulled her shirt open but she caught the edge and held it together again, stepping back, enjoying the chase just a little more. She was aching for him, but the ache would be more satisfyingly tended the longer this preamble continued. Curt knew that too, but his eyes were almost animal with lust now.
“I’m chilly,” she said, pouting as Curt advanced on her. Like a big bear, she thought. Here comes my big bear.
A groan passed through the crowd of assembled onlookers. The girl backed away again, shirt tight across her chest, even though they could all see the sweat beaded on her face.
It was going well. It was going to plan. But Sitterson was keen to speed things along. Time might be running out, and he wanted to see—
“Okay, that’s enough,” Hadley said, standing from his desk. “Everybody out. You’ve all got jobs to do.” He waved them toward the exit, and nodded to Truman to hold the door open for all of them.
Just like Hadley, Sitterson thought, smiling. He’s never liked watching the fucking with too many people around him.
After the other workers had been herded out his friend sat again, then wheeled his chair expertly across. Sitterson knew immediately what Hadley was going to ask. “We got temperature control in that sector?”
“On it,” Sitterson said, smiling. He’d already been notching the temperature up, subtly but noticeably. He opened a window on his computer and nudged the touch-screen thermometer up a little more. “It’ll be tropical in there within minutes,” he said.
“Nice,” Hadley replied. He was back at his own station now, tapping away on his own computer. “Okay, engaging the pheromone mists.”
Chem guys are doing well this time, Sitterson thought. I’ll have Tom compliment the Ice Queen on that. But here’s the next big test for them. The mists were notoriously glitchy. A breath of a breeze from somewhere—their control of the environment was extensive, but not complete—and the effect could be lost entirely. But this time…
This time he was feeling good about things.
It was all going according to plan.
He smiled. He’d long ago shed the guilt he ought to feel over what would happen next.
Damn, it’s warm, she thought. The air around them was hazed with a subtle mist, and maybe that had raised the temperature a little, a damp heat that seemed to have spread all across and through her body. Oh, fuck it, this has gone on long enough. She breathed in through her nose, still holding the edges of her blouse closed, but feeling the heat growing in her stomach and groin. Her legs were weak, her fingertips tingling.
She opened her eyes and looked at Curt, her lust reflected there.
He came close for another kiss and she let go of her shirt, wrapping her arms around him, sliding them up beneath his shirt to feel his muscled body slicked with a sheen of sweat. Their mouths met and passions merged. Jules kissed with her eyes open, relishing the sight of him and eager to be a part of their surroundings. It was so warm… so comfortable… so conducive to love.
She tugged hard at his shirt and felt buttons pop, and his low laughter gave her license to pull harder.