Free Purely Relative by Claire Gillian Page B

allowed
to do that, of course, but—
    “Dull. Nothing unusual happened. Nothing happened at all, as
a matter of fact. I think they’re all still away on vacation. Found the call I
wanted though. Only had to go back three months. Too bad it didn’t pan out.
Disconnected. I know there’s something there that I haven’t figured out yet.”
    “Are you hungry?” I had saved him some of my dinner just in
case.
    “Nah. Thanks. I can’t stay though,” he said. He toyed with
one of my curls as he spoke. “I have to fly to DC in the morning. Last minute
... uh, thing.”
    I pulled back and scanned his face. “DC? Why?”
    “Oh, it’s a special ... uh, training class they scheduled and
forgot to tell me about.” His eyes shot up to my temple, his fingers following
to touch the same lock of hair that fell in my face.
    Something was off. “How long will you be gone?”
    “Three days.” He bit his lip and watched me as if waiting
for me to challenge him. What wasn’t he telling me and did I dare challenge
him?
    “Well, I’ll miss you.” I gave him one of my finest kisses I
had been saving for him all day. He showed the proper amount of appreciation,
much to my relief. “Are you sure you can’t stay? I can drive you to the airport
in the morning.”
    The kiss he attempted to pass off as his answer wasn’t
cutting it with me, so I pulled away and asked again.
    “I can’t. I haven’t even packed, and I’m bushed. If only I
could pack you in my suitcase and bring you with me.” Two doe eyes sought
forgiveness, his forehead pressed against mine.
    “I could be your DC mistress!” The idea was erotically
appealing for a few seconds anyway. “Hang out in the hotel like Pretty Woman until you return from your training to ravish me in your bed. Oooh ... I like
it!”
    He kissed me. “I like it too. Can you fit in a carry-on
though, because I hate to check a bag.”
    “Plus I’d need to be in the pressurized and heated part of
the airplane.”
    “How would I get you into the overhead bin?”
    “Maybe you could cut holes for my arms and legs to stick out
so I could assist you and then later stretch out.” Our banter sent bubbles of
happiness fizzing through me. I gave him another kiss born from that joy.
    I knew he wasn’t that bushed. We didn’t even make it to the
bedroom, and I never made it off his lap. Whee! My gal parts adored the regular
and decidedly meticulous attention they received from a pair of investigative
fingers and a rather enthusiastic periscope.
    “At the risk of sounding like a real prick for dining and
dashing, I really need to go, but more importantly, I need you to let me
because I’ll never make it out of here if you don’t.” Jon shifted me off his
lap and sauntered into my bathroom, the curve of his rear barely holding up his
unfastened pants.
    Part of me speculated on the up side of being a love slave,
especially with Jon as my master.
    Sex all the time? You’d get blisters and die! Nobody can
do that. It’s nothing but a silly romantic notion.
    It’s a wonderful notion! No job to go to, lie about in
cool cotton sheets and pray at the temple of Jon’s body. What’s not to love
about that? And yes, people can, and do, do this.
    Porn stars and sex crime victims maybe. Your brain would
go to mush.
    I’ve heard too many orgasms can do that.
    Seriously though, you sex-addled twit. He’ll leave you
eventually and then what’ll you do? Who would hire you then? You’d be right
back to living in your car.
    God, you’re such a Debbie Downer.
    One of us has to be. You’re just woozy because you’re
still tingling. It doesn’t last. It can’t. You really wanna be a blonde bimbo,
and if that’s all he wants, he can find much cuter models than you, honey.
    Don’t call me honey.
    Okay, I’ll just call you stupid instead.
    Jon emerged, all spiffed up. He was leaving and despite what
he proclaimed, I couldn’t and wouldn’t stop him.
    I walked him to the door and gave him a