Page 26 of OctoBEARfest

Bill flashed her a look over his shoulder. His ears were still red, but he asked, "Are you one of them?"

"Now why would I pay for it when I've got a big tall handsome guy who'll do it for free?" Gwen shot him a sideways grin, and swore his ears got even hotter. "No, okay, for real, I'm not so much into food sex. It's really sticky and prone to getting goop in places I don't want goop to be. You?"

"I can honestly say I've never even considered it," Bill replied faintly. "I take it you have. Unless you're guessing."

"Nope, not guessing, tried chocolate sauce and honey a couple of times, definitely not my thing. The cleanup is horrible,and I smelled like chocolate for two days. I smelled like honey, too, but that wasn't as annoying."

Bill mumbled something and sat back down on the couch, eyes fixed firmly on the floor. Gwen found a t-shirt that wasn't made entirely of wrinkles and tugged the towel off her head so she could pull the shirt on over the towel she wore wrapped under her armpits, then re-wrapped it at her waist. "What'd you say?"

"That you're out of my league."

A zing went through Gwen and she stopped looking for jeans, instead turning toward Bill. "Why on earth would you say that? You're kind, funny, and gorgeous."

"Also large and vanilla."

"Hey." Gwen went around the bed to sit on the corner closest to Bill and leaned forward, elbows on her knees. "Do you know anything at all about actual vanilla?"

He raised his eyes, obviously startled. "It's boring?"

Gwen shook her head, smiling. "Vanilla is one of the world's most exotic flavors. It's the only edible orchid flower, and real vanilla is so expensive because the orchids have to be hand-pollinated. It's been in high demand for over five hundred years for the delicacy of its flavor and scent, for food and perfumes. We only think it's common because we have access to imitation vanilla and practically no sense of what it takes to acquire the real stuff. There's a reason it's the most popular ice cream, big man. There's nothing in the whole world like vanilla."

Bill's eyebrows furrowed and a funny little smile came over his face. "Why do you even know that?"

"I had to do a report on a common food for my teacher when I was a teenager," Gwen said with a grin. "I thought vanilla would be easy. It turned out I was wrong. I learned so much about it. I won't bore you with any more details, but let me leave you with the fact that it was Queen Elizabeth the First whopopularized it in Europe after it was brought back to her as a gift from the New World."

"I had no idea."

"Well, I did, so don't try to tell me how boring you are by claiming to be vanilla. The way I see it that means you're probably full of subtlety and depth." She reached out toward him without thinking, and to her surprise, he met her touch with his own fingertips.

It felt like an actual electric spark jolted through her at that light touch. It stung through her whole body, hardening her nipples and making Gwen very aware she hadn't put a bra on, and pooling heat between her thighs. A little breath escaped her, and even more to her surprise, Bill curled his fingers, catching hers with his and drawing her toward him just the littlest bit. She went willingly, a few awkward steps at the odd angle they were connected at, and then thumping to her knees in front of him. He brushed his fingers up her arm, ghost-light, and framed her face with that same barely-there touch before bringing his mouth to hers.

Their lips barely brushed in the most tentative question before he closed the distance again with more certainty. He tasted like cinnamon and coffee, and his beard was long enough to not scruff, though it tickled a little, making her laugh. She felt his smile against her mouth in return. "The beard's got to go?"

"Jury's out. Kiss me again while I think about it."

Bill chuckled and slid his hands to her waist, pulling her up.Effortlesslypulling her up, and lifting her into his lap once he had a solid grip. The towel wrapped around her waist wasn't meant to stand up to that kind of treatment, and fell loose to her hips, one thigh exposed where the ends of the towel opened, the other hidden beneath its pooled cloth. There wasjustenough of it that she wasn't suddenly mostly naked in Bill's lap—the cloth crumpled and covered the relevant bits, but only barely—andBill, in a very gentlemanly fashion, neatly tucked it around her so she was in less danger of exposing everything.

She still felt incredibly undressed and meltingly hot with it, sitting across his lap like that. His hands came back to her waist, fingers partially on her t-shirt, partially against her skin. He was sowarm, and so big, and so confident. She whispered, "Thank you," and he grinned ruefully from up close.

"Not that I didn't like the towel's idea of getting out of the way, but I think that should be your decision, not a towel's." He lifted his hands to her face again, framing her cheeks carefully, and murmured, "I think you said something about another kiss?"

"I did, yeah."

"Lemme work on that, then." He nuzzled at her mouth, making her breathe a laugh, and his lips touched hers, gentle, exploratory, and then as she answered eagerly, with greater hunger and command, until Gwen thought she could drown in that kiss. She slid her hands over his shoulders, into his hair, and he groaned, a soft delicious sound before moving his hands to the small of her back and tugging her closer. He was so big, but they fit together sowell,and he made her laugh. Casting caution to the wind suddenly seemed like a great idea.

Gwen took his hand and slipped it under her shirt in invitation. Bill groaned again, sliding his fingers upward until he cupped her breast, big fingers playing lightly with her nipple and making her shiver and arch with appreciation. Then he groaned from the bottom of his soul and moved his hand back down, mumbling, "Wait. Wait." Both of his hands went to her hips, over the damp towel, and he set her back a few inches as he caught his breath. "I'm sorry. I don't want to stop, but there's something I want to—think I need to—tell you before we go any farther."

Incredible disappointment crashed through Gwen, so powerful it made her flush a deep ruddy red she could feel it burn all the way past her collarbones. She slumped, eyes closed, and shook her head. This had happened more times than she could count, and it never stopped sucking. "I know what you're going to say."

"I—what?" Bill sounded so completely astounded that Gwen made herself open her eyes to meet his thunderstruck expression. "You do?How?"

"It happens all the fucking time." Gwen climbed out of his lap, knotting the towel around her waist again and returning to the edge of the bed to sit despondently. "'Gwen, you're great, I really like you, but look, I think you should probably know that I've had a crush on you since I was nine. This is my dream come true. You're the stuff of my fantasies.' I mean, at least you have the decency to say it now instead of after we've gone to bed together. Most guys don't do it until they've woken up with Rita."

Bill, his voice utterly bewildered, said, "Rita?"

"You know," Gwen said miserably. "Rita Hayworth. Everybody wanted to go to bed with Gilda, that's what she said. Her most famous character. They were always disappointed when they woke up with Rita."

"I…Rita Hayworth…wasn't she incredibly beautiful? What kind of idiot…never mind. What are you talking about? What—are you…Rita Hayworth?" Bill sat up, adjusting his jeans, then spread his hands in confusion. "I mean…are you famous? I already know you're famous! You're Gwen Booker! What are you talking about?"

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