The Loving Daylights

  "I want you to touch me and kiss me and..." She shrugged helplessly where she lay. "I want you."

  Abel started to lean toward her, his mouth seeking hers, but she caught him with her hands on his chest. "I want you to take your top off, too. I want to feel you."

  Abel quickly complied. Not bothering with the buttons, he simply yanked the shirt up over his head and tossed it aside. Jane drank in the sight of his wide muscled shoulders. "Are you sure you're an accountant?"

  "Good genes," he explained with a chuckle. Then he bent to reclaim her lips.

  Jane kissed him back, moaning at the feel of his hair-roughened chest brushing her erect nipples. She slid her arms around his back and caressed him eagerly, trying to touch every inch of his skin, then clutched at him instead when his hand closed over her breast again, this time without the cloth to separate them. The next time he broke the kiss, it was to sit up. He drew her with him, helping her to shift to her knees on the couch so that they were positioned face-to-face, watching her face as he caressed her breasts. "Do you like that?"

  "Oh, yes." She closed her eyes, leaning into his touch and running her hands over his chest as well.

  "What else do you want me to do?"

  "More," Jane answered simply.

  He slid one arm around her and urged her back against it. His head lowered so that he could catch one nipple between his lips. Jane cried out at the pleasure that shot through her and slid forward a little on the couch, the silk of her pajamas sliding easily on the cloth material until his thigh stopped her. It lodged between her legs, bracing her and adding to the sensations swirling through her. She felt his free hand slide down her back, pushing the pajama bottoms off one cheek as he cupped and pressed her against him. His erection was hard against her upper thigh, and she pressed her leg tighter against it before reaching around to touch him through his black jeans.

  Abel groaned against her breast, then lifted his head to catch her mouth again with a hard hot kiss. He pushed the cloth of her pajama bottoms off her other hip. The black cloth pooled around her knees, cool and silky, and he pushed her back on the couch again. He came down on top of her, his hand slipping between their bodies, between her legs. Jane gasped and jerked beneath him, her legs instinctively trying to close, then falling wider apart.

  "Abel. I want you," she told him, and reached to find the button of his jeans.

  "Not yet," he said. He covered her mouth with his own, his tongue thrusting aggressively between her lips as his seeking fingers found the center of her excitement and drove her into a frenzy.

  With the last of her sanity left, Jane managed to undo the button and lower the zipper of Abel's jeans. Her hand immediately slid inside to touch him. He moaned into her mouth, his hips thrusting forward. Then he tore his lips away to move them back to her breast, shifting backward so that his lower body was out of reach.

  "Unfair," Jane gasped, grabbing at his shoulders desperately as the pressure building within her became unbearable. "Please, I...Please. Abel, please."

  She was twisting her head frantically back and forth, her hips moving to the rhythm of his caressing hand, her body arching and vibrating like a tuning fork as she strained toward what he offered. Jane had never experienced this much pleasure before. It was wonderful and terrifying and...and...She grabbed desperately at his head, wanting his mouth on hers even though her lips seemed as stiff and taut as the rest of her body and unable to kiss properly. She pressed her open mouth to his when he lifted his head obligingly, and Jane felt herself shatter as his tongue thrust into her mouth.

  Abel continued to kiss and touch her as her body shuddered and throbbed and pulsed. At last, her heartbeat began to slow.

  "Thank you," she murmured when his lips left hers.

  "You're welcome." He kissed her forehead and held her close.

  They lay still for several moments until Jane recovered enough to notice the hardness against her thigh. She ran her hands down his naked back, smiling. "Abel."

  "Hm?" He lifted his head and peered at her.

  She pressed a kiss to his lips, then reached for the back of his jeans to push them forcefully over his hips, saying one word: "More."

  Chuckling, Abel helped her push the jeans off. He stood briefly to remove them, and Jane noticed that her own bottoms were hanging from one foot. She kicked them off, then glanced at Abel as he rejoined her on the couch, a shiver going through her at her second sight of him completely naked. He looked even better than he had in the hotel.

  She shifted restlessly when he stopped halfway down on the couch. "What?" she asked.

  "Just a minute." He leaned sideways off the couch and she could hear him rifling through something on the floor.

  "What are you doing?" She started to sit up, but he urged her back down with one hand, then took that hand away to fiddle with something that crinkled. She heard a ripping sound, another rustle; then he hesitated and shifted to sit on the edge of the couch.

  "What are you doing?" Jane asked curiously, unable to see past his arm and thigh.

  "Protecting you," he answered, obviously distracted. It was the movement of his hands and arms that made everything clear.

  "Oh," she said, and relaxed as she realized he was donning a condom. Wasn't it just like him to think of her that way? She wouldn't have to worry about getting pregnant or anything else. She herself hadn't even considered that possibility at this point. He was so--

  Condom? Where did he get if? "Abel?"

  "All done." He turned to smile and started to shift over her, then paused suddenly. His glance at his now-sheathed erection was one of surprise.

  "Abel?" Jane asked in horror. Her thoughts seemed terribly clear now, the fog the truth serum had caused disappearing like morning dew. "Where did you get the condom?"

  "The bag," he muttered, staring down at himself with growing discomfort. "There seems to be something odd about it, though."

  "Oh, no!" Jane scrambled out from beneath him. Kneeling naked at the side of the couch, she began rifling wildly through the bags she'd left sitting out. The bags he'd got the condom from. Her B.L.I.S.S. Shrink-Wrap Condom. "Where is the relaxing cream? I must have brought the relaxing cream."

  "Uh, Jane? Something's wrong with this condom."

  She paused to glance over her shoulder. Abel had gone pale and was now struggling to remove the prophylactic. It wasn't coming off, of course. In a second he'd be singing soprano. "There's nothing wrong with it. That's supposed to happen."

  "Supposed to happen?" He gaped at her. Then, obviously thinking she didn't understand what was occurring, he explained, "It's tightening or something, it's--"

  "Yes, I know. It's the B.L.I.S.S. Shrink-Wrap Condom, Abel. It's supposed to shrink. You really shouldn't have used it."

  "Shrink-wrap condom? Shrink-wrap condom!" He began tearing desperately at the latex, but it wasn't budging.

  "It's okay," she soothed, turning back to the bags. "Don't fight it. That won't work. I just have to find the relaxing cream. The condom will relax and everything will be fine."

  "What happens if you don't find it?" Abel asked with alarm.

  Jane pictured banana mash in her mind and decided it was better not to tell him.

  "Ahhhhhh..."

  She didn't really want to take the time to look at him, but the thud that followed Abel's pained cry could not be ignored. Glancing back Jane saw that Abel had tumbled off the couch and was now rolling on his back on the floor. His legs were drawn up into the fetal position and his hands were clasped over his groin.

  "Cream!" Jane cried and went back to her rifling.

  "Jane." It was a strangled sound, much higher than Abel's usual voice. Jane ignored it and continued to search.

  "Aha'" She felt a tidal wave of relief as her hand closed over the jar of relaxing cream. "I found it, Abel. We're saved."

  His answer was a whimper. He rolled back and forth on the floor, eyes squeezed shut and tears leaking out of them.

  "Here!" She knel
t at his side and quickly undid the lid of the cream, then dipped in her hand to scoop some out. But when she tried to apply it, Abel shrieked, "Don't touch me!"

  "I have to, Abel. I have to apply the cream," Jane said patiently. She tried to urge his hands out of the way--not an easy job when he was rolling back and forth. She finally followed him on her knees, so that when he rolled back he came up against her legs. "Let me put this cream on."

  "No! Oh, God, don't touch me. Oh, God, it's ripping my dick off!"

  Jane paused. Ripping it off? Could it? She hadn't run test trials on the effects of this item. How could she? Who would volunteer to be a test subject?

  "Oh, God! I'm going to be dickless. A eunuch! I'll never have children. I--" He rolled toward her, eyes glaring out of a pain-filled face. "I'm singing soprano here, Jane. Put the cream on!"

  "You're the one who wouldn't let me--"

  "Put it on!" he roared. Well, he sort of roared. His voice was several pitches higher than could be called a roar.

  "Sheesh, listen to you carry on. I thought guys were supposed to be stoic and stuff," she muttered, pushing his hands away.

  Abel growled, "Cut my arm off and I promise I won't flinch, but this isn't my arm."

  "Oh, dear." Jane winced as she saw how far the condom had shrunk.

  "What?"

  "Don't look," Jane said quickly, but it was too late. He gaped at himself in horror for a moment, then fell back with a whimper.

  "Dear God, its a pencil," he said through clenched teeth.

  "I'm sure it's only temporary," Jane babbled. She began to slather the cream on. "It will pop right back to normal size. How big was that?" she added worriedly as the condom began to relax. His penis didn't appear to reinflate much. She hadn't really looked when she'd had the opportunity, just noticed he had a condom on and--

  "Huge!" Abel snapped, but he didn't seem as clenched as before. His voice was starting to sound normal, so she was sure he was feeling better. It was just a shame his penis wasn't recovering as quickly. It wasn't as thin as it had been, but it appeared to be trying to shrivel up inside him. At least there was no bleeding, Jane thought.

  A groan from him made her glance at his face. He'd leaned forward to look at himself, and had a tragic expression on his face. His voice was wistful and singsongy as he said, "Little Abel used to be so big and brave."

  "Umm..." Jane bit her lip and removed the now baglike condom, then replaced the lid of the cream and sat back to eye Abel uncertainly. He was lying flat on the floor again, arms limp at his sides, eyes closed. He looked miserable.

  "Feel any better?" she asked.

  He opened his eyes and stared at her as if she were insane.

  "Guess not." She cleared her throat, then got to her feet and moved back to the couch. After quickly redonning her pajamas, she found Abel watching her with a mournful expression. "What is it?"

  "I had such plans for you, and now I'll never have sex again," he said.

  Jane bit her lip. "I'm sure you'll feel better soon. It didn't look like any permanent damage was done."

  Abel grunted, then sighed. "The compact and lipstick are knockout drugs. The perfume is a truth serum. The condoms are a torture device. What are the vibrators?"

  "Mini-missile launchers."

  "Damn." Abel closed his eyes. "Remind me to stay out of your bags."

  "Janie?"

  Her gaze slid to the two-way radio on the table as her grandmother's voice erupted from it. Jane picked it up. "Gran?"

  "Are you up yet, dear?" the woman asked hopefully.

  "Yes. Coming." Jane set the radio down and eyed Abel apologetically. "I have to..." She waved vaguely.

  "Go." He closed his eyes and just lay there, naked as the day he was born, on the bedroom carpet.

  "Will you be all right?" Jane asked.

  "I'll never be all right again."

  Not knowing how to respond, Jane merely left him where he was and walked out of the room. She paused in the kitchen to get the coffee started, then continued on to find Gran.

  Maggie Spyrus was sitting up in bed when Jane entered. Tinkle was playing possum beside her. Jane knew the dog wasn't really asleep because its eyes were cracked open. The little beast was only trying to fake her out so that she'd get close enough to be nipped. Tinkle just wasn't a morning kind of dog. Jane was careful to avoid the beast as she helped Gran get ready to meet the day.

  Abel was leaning against the island in the kitchen drinking coffee when Jane rolled in her grandmother and Tinkle. His hair was wet from a shower, and he was dressed in fresh blue jeans and a red polo shirt. Jane didn't think he was over his trauma yet, however. He was scowling and stood slightly hunched, his free hand near his groin as if he might cover it protectively at any moment.

  He responded to Gran's cheery good morning and the sunny smile Jane sent him with a grunt. Definitely not over his trauma, she thought, and decided to leave him alone for a bit.

  She would make breakfast. It was a major undertaking for Jane, who was not a good cook. She could throw a casserole in the oven to warm for fifteen minutes, but anything more complicated than that had always seemed too much bother. She intended to give it her best effort this morning, however. After all, they said the way to a man's heart was through his stomach. Maybe her efforts would help cheer Abel and make him smile again. She was feeling a bit vulnerable at the moment. He'd done wonderful things to her before the condom debacle. Intimate-type things. But the fact that he'd almost been eaten alive by her invention in response was...well, it was hardly likely to endear her to him.

  To bolster her confidence in her cooking ability, Jane started with the easy stuff. She got Gran a cup of coffee and pulled out some food for Tinkle and Mr. Tibbs.

  The Yorkie showed only mild interest in what Jane was doing as she poured the cat's dry food into a bowl, but the little beast was off Gran's lap and at Jane's side at the first sound of the can opener. Feedings were the only times the creature treated Jane as anything other than someone to bite or otherwise aggravate. Jane wasn't impressed.

  She set both bowls down and straightened to call for Mr. Tibbs. Tinkle scampered back onto Gran's lap the moment Edie's cat sauntered in, then the little fur-ball lay there whining miserably. The tabby had sampled the dog food and settled down to eat it rather than the dry food that was his own fare.

  Somehow encouraged by the cat's meanness, Jane smiled sunnily and walked to the refrigerator. "Who's up for bacon and eggs?"

  "Oh, that sounds nice," Gran said. "Are you sure you're up to it though, dear?"

  "Of course," Jane said cheerfully, pulling out a package of bacon and the carton of eggs. "What about you, Abel? Bacon and eggs?"

  Taking the grunt he gave for a yes, Jane set the food on the counter and dug around for a frying pan. She found a nice-sized one, set it on the stove, and cranked the burner to high.

  "What are you doing?" Abel was at her side at once.

  "Cooking."

  Abel opened his mouth, then paused--she suspected to reconsider whatever he'd been about to say. After a moment, he cleared his throat and said, "Why don't I cook the bacon?"

  Jane turned a wary eye on him. "What did I do wrong?"

  "Nothing. I just like to cook bacon. I'll do it."

  "Want to smell my perfume?" Jane asked, and Abel actually managed to crack a smile.

  "That pan is Teflon," he said, as if that explained everything.

  "So? You can't cook bacon and eggs in a Teflon pan?"

  Abel arched an eyebrow. "You don't cook much, do you?"

  Jane made a face, then confessed. "I'm not very good at it for some reason."

  "Ah. Well, the good news is I am. I also like to do it," he said easily.

  Jane felt herself relax. He didn't mind that she couldn't cook. That was good, she thought as she watched him turn down the burner.

  Still, it seemed to her that she should learn at least some cooking skills. She was always willing to learn; she'd just never had anyone to teac
h her. Gran hadn't exactly been the Betty Crocker of the spy world. She could burn water. "Tell me why you turned the heat down," she said.

  Abel hesitated then explained, "You never use Teflon above medium. It wrecks the pan. It also lets off a poisonous gas."

  "Poisonous gas?" Jane asked with horror.

  "Yeah. Enough to kill small birds, apparently."

  "Well, if it kills small birds it can't be much better for humans," Jane said with disgust. "Maybe we should find another--"

  "It will be fine. You just have to keep it at medium or lower. It's safe then," he soothed. Offering her a smile, he opened the bacon. "Why don't you make toast?"

  "I can handle that." Relieved that he appeared to have gotten over his trauma from earlier and was smiling at her again, she found the toaster and set to work.

  "Did you tell your gran what happened?" Abel asked as she opened a loaf of bread.

  "Of course not." Jane gasped. "I would never tell her what happened between us, that's personal and--"

  "About Parker," Abel corrected.

  "Oh." Jane flushed and pushed the toaster button down. Of course he'd meant Parker.

  "Who is Parker, and what happened to him?" Gran asked from the table.

  "He was Dirk's assistant," Jane answered. "He was hit by a car out in front of the house last night. It was a hit-and-run. He stumbled through the trees to the clearing beside our house and died there."

  "Really," Gran said thoughtfully. "Who hit him?"

  "I don't know. I couldn't see the road through the trees. I heard it all, but didn't see a thing. It was a man and a woman. Officer Alkars thinks it was someone from the party." She shrugged. "He'll sort it out."

  "Does he think it was an accident?" Abel asked curiously as he laid strips of bacon out in the pan.

  "I don't know. He's kind of suspicious, but I think it was probably an accident."

  "Why, Janie?" Gran asked.

  The toast popped up. Jane set it on a plate to butter. "Because Parker was from Canada. No one here knows him. Who would want him dead?"

  "I don't know," Maggie said.

  The way the older woman spoke made Jane look at her curiously. "You don't know what?"

  "If it was an accident. It could have been, but..."

  "But?" Abel prompted.

  The old woman looked unhappy. "It could also mean we have more players here than we expected."

  "Like who?" Jane asked with interest.