“What makes you say that?” Michael asked.
“Well, this is my dream, right? So all of this is coming from my subconscious.”
Congress faded away, until there was just me, Michael, and Fuzzball standing in a gray, formless mass. Michael smiled again. “Is it?”
“Isn’t it? If it’s not my subconscious, if I’m not asleep, or whatever, then what is it, whatever ‘it’ is?”
Michael shrugged. “It’s whatever it needs to be.”
“Okay, then, is death really only the beginning?”
He laughed. “I don’t really know yet.” He looked around. “I think it might be. We’ll find out.” He patted Fuzzball. “And we’re not going alone.”
“That’s good. I guess.”
“It is.”
Fuzzball mewed, purred, and rubbed against Michael.
“See? Fuzzball agrees.”
“Okay. Um, are you . . . with ACE by any chance?”
“Not yet.”
“Will you be?”
“That will depend on a lot of things.”
“Like what?”
He gave me a funny look. “If everyone lets us go.”
With that Fuzzball jumped onto my shoulder, gave me a nuzzle, and jumped back to Michael’s shoulder. Michael kissed my forehead. Then they both faded away into the gray nothingness.
Looked around. I was very alone. Wasn’t a fan. “If this is my dream, I want to wake up now.”
Nothing happened.
“If this isn’t my dream, I still want to wake up now.”
Nada.
“I got the message. I swear! Stop wallowing in guilt, find and stop the Apprentice, get that much closer to the Mastermind. Right?”
Still alone in the gray mass.
“Um, if ACE is out there, we’d like him to be able to come home, please. I’ve met the guy who’s his sorta replacement, and ACE is now even more sorely missed.”
Could have sworn I heard someone chuckling. It so freaking figured.
“Algar, I know that’s you.”
“Who are you talking to?” Jeff asked sleepily.
I blinked and I wasn’t in the gray nothingness anymore. I was in bed next to Jeff. “Ah . . . what did I say?”
“You said ‘I know it’s you.’ Were you talking to me or someone else?”
“I have no idea any more. It was just a weird dream. I’m sorry I woke you up.”
“Mmm,” Jeff said, as he pulled me closer to him. “That’s okay, baby. I have the perfect way for you to make it up to me.”
CHAPTER 51
JEFF REACHED OUT AND BACK and hit something. Music came on. Hall and Oates’ “One on One,” to be exact.
“You’re all prepared,” I said with a laugh.
“Yeah,” Jeff said as he nuzzled my hair. “New mix. I’d been saving it, but I think now’s the right time to roll it out.”
I opened my mouth to say that I was good with it, but his mouth covered mine before I could speak. Jeff kissed me, slowly at first, but soon with a lot more intensity. Chose to show that I’d listened to everyone and kissed him right back.
Jeff was the best kisser in, I figured, the galaxy. His tongue had more moves than most men’s entire bodies. While his tongue twined with mine and proved it was still Galaxy Class, his fingers slid under my T-shirt and traced my skin.
Pre-Jamie we’d taken a long time with foreplay. Post-Jamie we’d learned to get to the gusto as fast as possible. Clearly Jeff was going for a retro approach tonight, and potentially a kissing record, because instead of getting our nightclothes off, he let his fingertips wander all over my stomach, coming close to, but not quite touching my breasts.
As the music changed to “Sexy Girl” by Glenn Frey, he slowly ended our kiss, but only to move his mouth to my main erogenous zone, better known as my neck. He bit my neck gently and, as my hips bucked, he finally shoved my T-shirt up over my breasts.
“He must have written this song about you, baby,” Jeff growled as he trailed his teeth down my neck to my breasts. I’d have commented, but I was too busy moaning.
Happily, the Embassy was the most soundproofed place we’d ever lived, so I’d gotten over worrying about waking Jamie up. Which was good, because Jeff’s mouth and hands were busy toying, licking, and sucking on my breasts, and I was already at my cat-in-heat stage of yowling.
Shakira’s “Hips Don’t Lie” came on and my hips were certainly not lying about wanting Jeff to keep on with what he was doing, potentially forever.
From day one, Jeff had been able to bring me to orgasm at second base. He was clearly determined to do so again, and, as he sucked both nipples then rubbed them gently between his fingers while he bit my neck again, my body obliged. You know, just to show I was a good wife and all that.
As I came down from the climax, he pulled his shirt off, then mine, tossing the T-shirts to the floor. Then he was back to my breasts, presumably because he’d ignored them for approximately five seconds and realized this was a terrible error that needed to be instantly rectified.
Jeff was now sideways to me, and I reached out to stroke his chest. I loved the way the hair on his chest felt, especially over his awesome pecs and amazing abs. And, you know, since my hand was going down anyway, figured I should follow the Happy Trail and just continue on down.
As I slid my hand under his pajama pants, Jeff made the growl that sounded more like a purr. Poison’s “Sexual Thing” came on, and I started stroking to the beat. Jeff chuckled, purred even louder, then shifted again, tongue trailing down my stomach. While his tongue traced my navel, he pulled my pajama bottoms off.
He shifted a little more, and I used the new position to get his pajama bottoms, if not off, then at least down and out of my way. As his tongue delved inside me, I gasped. Then figured that, you know, since he was right there and my mouth was open, might as well do the old Two Can Play That Game.
Jeff really growled against me as he started licking and sucking with more intensity. I matched him as the music went to “Get Down, Make Love” from Queen. We were in time together and with the song.
As I wrapped my legs around his head and his body shuddered, we climaxed together, and with most human men, that would have been it. Great and satisfying, but it. However, aliens in general and Jeff in particular had increased stamina and regeneration.
As our bodies calmed a bit, Jeff flipped us over and around, so I was on top of him and we were head to head again. He had the, happily redundant, “jungle cat about to eat me” look on his face—eyelids half-lowered, half-smile, all sexy. I loved that look. I ground against him and was rewarded with proof that he was ready to go again.
He slid into me as Oingo Boingo’s “Wild Sex (In the Working Class)” came on. Jeff had put some serious thought into this mix, proving yet again that he truly deserved the title of Sexual God.
He thrust into me and moved me up into a sitting position. While his hands squeezed my breasts I rocked my hips back and forth and he continued to buck his hips, driving himself deeper into me. We were like this through the entire song, and through half of the next, “Sex Is Not the Enemy” by Garbage.
We went faster and faster, and another orgasm hit me. As I wailed along with Shirley Manson and my body shook, Jeff flipped us again, so that he was on top of me. He flipped my legs up, put his arms behind my knees and his hands at the sides of my hips, and started thrusting again, as my body rocked with the aftereffects of my latest climax.
“Violent Love” from Oingo Boingo came on, and Jeff ratcheted us up to frenzy. I grabbed his pecs as we slammed into each other, each thrust going deeper and faster.
It didn’t take too long at this pace for me to get worked right back up to the edge of climax, and I could tell he was ready to go over the edge, too.