Sweeping her with a casual gaze, I noticed she was in shorts again. New Orleans must seem oppressively hot to someone from up north; it only differed from Gulfport by the lack of a refreshing sea breeze. They were nice legs, even if they were as snowy as her face.Or her breasts,I imagined. Silky smooth, I pictured gliding my hand up from the top of her sneaker to her knee, over that cute, little knee, and inside the wide cuff of her blue shorts. The next thing I knew, I was speculating about what kind of underwear she had on.Regular briefs, bikinis, or boxers?It was inconceivable she’d even own a thong.But if she is wearing one …
I was grievously overcome by an inexplicable urge to get Winter alone in a closet somewhere. Nothing captivated my interest as much as pulling down her shorts to discover what variety of undergarment she had on.Probably cotton, I supposed.Do people from Wisconsin wear cotton everything like Southerners do? They could be synthetic or a blend. Yeah, ablend. Boxer-briefs? With Star Wars characters or the Dr. Who Tardis on them?
Heat built in my core as I started imagining my fingers time-traveling inside boxers as blue as her eyes, or maybe it was her iridescent eyes that whisked me away to other times and places. Tension grew in my core as I dreamed how it would feel to have her hands on me … teasing, tickling, caressing, possessing. I’d heard nerds could be little spitfires in bed, with all their pent-up sexual tensions finally bursting into release.
She said she didn’t have a sweetheart, and she looks at me like I’m the cat’s meow.Suddenly, I was conscious of how hard my nipples had become, and the thin silk of this bra wouldn’t hide a thing. To top it off, I’d foolishly thought to wear a tight-fitting knit pullover. I crossed my arms over my chest, relaxed all the muscles I didn’t remember clenching, and tried to cool the heat from my face. Thank goodness nobody was watching me. They weren’t, were they?
I took a moment to peek around the room. Several women were nodding off while a couple of others feverishly took notes. My shoulder retained a tingle where Winter pressed hers against it. Well, the chairs were scrunched right together. The energy I sensed flowing from her was pure, admiring, and affectionate. If someone wanted to speculate we were together, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. I couldn’t bethatmuch older than her.
In the next instant, my brain wanted to know everything about Winter Bliss. What were her hobbies, her favorite foods? What music did she enjoy? Was she legal drinking age?Is she as distracted as I am?
Honestly, I wasn’t the kind of woman who thought about sex all the time, despite the fact it featured prominently in my writing. Lately, that’s the only place it had featured.Maybe,I proposed to myself with a wicked grin.
I’d always had a fantasy about hooking up with a hot babe from out of town at a convention, a weekend tryst, a fabulous fling for the sheer pleasure of it. Nobody from home would know or care, and I wouldn’t be saddled with the usual fears and expectations of actually dating her. Just wild, passionate sex with someone who wasn’t a jerk and wouldn’t screw me over. Maybe it would get me through the next six months.
A thrill tingled every nerve end as I wondered if Winter would be interested in a no-strings-attached weekend. Well, we’d already lost Friday, but there was still today and tomorrow. OK, so I had pictured this being with someone whose body was as spectacular as Selina’s, but that wasn’t everything. It wasn’t even the most important thing. I didn’t want to be—I surely didn’t understand it—but I was attracted to this protective sprite with the heart of a lion. Thinking about her gave me warm fuzzies all the way down to my toes. It felt nice. A wistful smile crept across my face, and my vision blurred before I shook my head, presumably to stay awake. These two had to be the dullest presenters ever.
One realistic moment, and I knew it couldn’t happen. This was Winter Bliss. And as much as I wanted to warm myself in blissful rapture with her tight in my embrace, she was far too innocent and vulnerable for such a ploy. The potential for her being hurt was too great. I couldn’t whisk her off to my room for some afternoon delight and then drive back to my home over a thousand miles away from hers with a lame cliché such as, “Thanks for a great time. See ya.”
Digging deep, I realized the truth. Although I didn’t know Winter, I still cared about her. I cared about keeping her safe from external danger and from any heartache my actions could cause her. She wasn’t a one-night-stand kind of gal—that much was obvious. Besides, I couldn’t risk drawing Tammy’s wrath if I broke her new protégée’s heart.
The kicker came when I recognized I didn’t wish to hunt a substitute with whom to spend the night or any portion of it. Not only because any of them could be awaiting an opening to smother me in my sleep or mount me only to strangle me with a silk cord—I no longer found the gorgeous, spicy women desirable. Even R.B.’s sexy firefighter faded when compared to a silly sci-fi nerd with snow-white legs and big, round glasses she couldn’t keep up on her nose. Was something wrong with me, or was there more to Winter Bliss?
If I could stop envisioning having sex with her long enough, I intended to find out.
Chapter 13
Reads and Revelations
With considerable difficulty, I reined in my libido by the time a weak round of applause sounded in the room. I joined in to avoid appearing conspicuous, glad there wouldn’t be a test. Although my brain proposed launching into an essay on the virtues of small breasts, I rose gracefully from my seat, trying to concentrate onanythingelse.
“They never mentioned trolls or online predators,” Winter snarled with a critical scowl. “Anyone with sense knows to post a five-star review, even if your mother wrote it.”
I was struck with an immediate impulse to read Winter’s books. But what if they were awful? No, I couldn’t fathom it. They were her babies. Surely, she was too young to have an actual baby, wasn’t she?
“Technology,” I answered instead. “You have to take the good with the bad, right?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
This time I couldn’t skip the restroom line. “Need a pit stop?” I asked. She stared at me with a blank expression. “I’m going to use the little girl’s room,” I rephrased. “Coming?”
“Oh, yeah.” Winter’s hand latched around my arm as we squeezed through the doorway. “Pit stop?”
With a mischievous smirk, I said, “What Florida lacks in cheese, it makes up for in race car events. The pit stop, where they fill the cars’ tanks and rotate the tires? Take care of business?”
“Oh!” Recognition lit on her face, which flushed with embarrassment. The adorable expression tempted me to kiss her. I wrangled in the urge.
Tammy materialized at my side. “See that awkward, shy-looking loner with the frizzy hair?” she whispered and aimed me in what I presumed was the right direction. Standing by herself at the Literary Laurels’ booth fingering a stack of T-shirts, I spied who I thought she meant.
“The one at the conference table?”
“Yes. She kept looking at you and paid no attention to the presenters.”
Neither did I, I thought guiltily.
“Oh, that’s Jules Novik,” Winter said, squeezing between Tammy and me. “She’s a finalist for Best Science Fiction Novel.”
“Do you know her?” Tammy questioned.
