Don't Fret the Timing Page 4

  ***

  She knew he thought of her as positively fragile. He was wrong. There were things Sumiko couldn't do, and things that would probably hurt too damn much, but most of those parts worked fairly well, not that she'd had anything other than "self-help" since the accident.

  She edged closer until their bodies touched. Sumiko was lying a few inches lower on the bed than Vaughn. She tipped her head back a little and kissed his chin, feeling the prickle of stubble on her mouth. She kissed an inch higher, just under the curve of his lower lip. He was so still, she wasn't even sure if he was breathing. She could tell he was terrified of hurting her.

  "I'm not as breakable as you think," she whispered and kissed his mouth. He made a needy little moan and kissed her back. The soft heat of his lips was delicious and he nibbled at the side of her mouth. His hand cupped at the back of her head, preventing escape, not that she had any intention of that. His tongue explored the edge of her lower lip then parted her teeth. One hand snaked under her, pulling her tight to his body. He was all muscle where her breasts were squashed to his chest and she reveled in his tightly leashed desire. She looped one arm around his neck and slipped her free hand along his hip around behind him, digging her fingers in the curve of his ass.

  He pushed his knee between her legs and pulled her top leg up over his hip. Sumiko gasped in pain and he froze.

  "I'msorryI'msorryIdidn'tmeanto..." Vaughn babbled in frantic apology, trying to ease away from her. Sumiko tightened her grip on him, holding him against her body.

  "It's okay. I'm all right. You just have to be slow about anything that stretches my hip joints, especially the right one." Sumiko moved her hand from his behind to cup the hard length at his crotch. She squeezed it firmly through the fabric of his slacks. He groaned. She wasn't about to let him stop just because one wrong move had hurt. She set her own passion free, as she kissed him aggressively, allowing it to roar through his head. He needed to know that she wanted this too.

  Sumiko fumbled and wrenched open his belt and pulled down his fly. Mmm, he was a boxer-briefs guy. She stroked him through the fabric for a moment before sliding her hand down inside the waistband. He was hot and hard and leaking against her palm. His mouth devoured hers as he thrust into her grip.

  "Nnn... unh... slow down... want you to... Can I... oh fuck... What can I do for you?" he finally managed to choke out, grabbing her wrist and stilling her motion. He was breathing hard against her cheek. Sumiko had been so wrapped up in riding the wave of his arousal she had barely considered that she might get something more direct out of this. She wasn't sure about conventional sex. It had been a freakin' long time.

  "Fingers'd be good," she whispered huskily. Vaughn helped her lift up and ease her pants and underwear down over her thighs and off. Spreading her legs a bit while she lay flat on her back was a more comfortable move than the earlier one. His hand cupped her crotch, fingers sliding in delicious almost friction against swollen wet folds. Oh... she realized he was surprised that she was that turned on. Long blunt fingers explored, rubbing, pushing inside. His erection was pressed to the outside of her thigh and she was perversely glad it was her left leg, because the right one had a long section along the adductor muscle with no sensation that ran from her hip almost to her knee.

  Oh God, it felt so good. She rocked against the motion of his fingers. The slippery slick warmth of his cock ground into the muscle of her thigh. His face was nestled in the crook of her neck, heavy warm breaths blowing across her throat. She was close to release, feeling the building tension close to peaking. His thumb was stroking that sensitive sweet spot. The orgasm clenched her muscles and sent pulses of pleasure racing through her nervous system.

  "Oh... fuck... Miko," Vaughn groaned and she felt his ecstatic wash of pleasure echoing through her as sticky heat spurted up along her hip. He rolled her gently over into a long sloppy kiss, aftershocks twitching his muscles. "God... feel like I've been electrocuted..." he mumbled, hugging her to his chest.” Not sure ever been like this… an' we didn't even exactly..."

  Sumiko wallowed in the afterglow, enjoying the divine warmth of his arms wrapped around her, holding her close. His pulse was still a hard flutter against her lips as she kissed down the side of his throat.

  They lay for a while, cuddled in the darkness. Vaughn's stomach growled and she giggled.

  "I think we skipped dinner," he said. "And now it's past midnight."

  "Do you have actual food in your fridge? Or are you the type to have beer, a bottle of ketchup and three week old Chinese take out?"

  He snickered. "I have real food. Although I won't swear there aren't a couple of science projects in there too. Maybe we ought to clean up first though... Should I go get a washcloth or would you rather have a shower? Is that something you can do?"

  "A shower would be good. I won't melt, honest."

  "I didn't mean..."

  Sumiko cut him off with a kiss. "I know what you meant. I do often tend to sit on the floor of the shower. My balance is kind of crappy. At home, I have a bench in the shower and a really big bar bolted into the wall."

  "Where's home for you?" he asked.

  "Now? Suffolk, Virginia. Division P's headquartered there. I live in an apartment at the complex."

  "If you're planning on hiring me, is that where the training part is?"

  "Yes."

  ***

  Vaughn helped her ease down to the floor of the shower after the water warmed up. She was a real blond, head to toe, but then he hadn't really doubted it. She took his hands in hers and traced her scars. They began to the right of her belly button and jagged along the front of her hip for a couple of inches. Another began along the top curve of her butt cheek and snaked down the side of her hip and leg a good twelve inches or more.

  "Holy shit..." he murmured. He had noticed the seams beneath his fingers earlier but he hadn't comprehended how extensive they were.

  "Are you suitably grossed out?" she asked. It was an edgy question and he was beginning to understand that she used shock factor as a defense mechanism against her own raw emotions.

  "No. I am not grossed out. A little shocked maybe," he answered honestly. He knew damn well she'd be able to tell if he was lying. She was sitting on the floor of shower, knees flexed up and one shoulder against the wall. He sat facing her, on his knees, feet under his butt. one hand braced on the floor. Vaughn ran a finger down over her collar bone and down the lush curve of her breast. Her shoulders and arms displayed all the muscle her legs were lacking. He'd seen legs as thin on women who had no physical injuries. He was still attracted, scars and all. His cock filled a little just thinking about the feel of her body under his hands combined with the intimate intensity of her mind tangled in his. Damn, that pretty much nailed it.

  "I looked worse after three months of being practically bed-bound," she said. "I hate physical therapy with a vengeance but it helps."

  Vaughn let his hands roam across her wet skin. There was something about touching her, something almost addictive. God, he just wanted to be buried balls deep in her body, with her inside his head and both arms wrapped around her body.

  "That's some fantasy," she said, and damn it, he was blushing furiously again. The added fact that he was obviously achingly hard was just contributing to the embarrassment. It didn't seem to matter that they had already made out like a couple of teenagers barely avoiding the actual act. "I can help with that," she said softly. Her hand closed around his cock. There was nothing teenager-like in the heat of her gaze. "Lean back."

  As he did, she bent sideways and lapped across the tip. He gulped hard at the sensation. Her tongue was doing things that probably ought to be illegal. She raised her head and looked at him. "Fair warning, I don't swallow, so don't wig out if I spit in your shower."

  "Unh...'kay," was about all the coherence he was capable of. Hand, mouth, tongue, lips. Jesus Christ... Vaughn sprawled backward against the wall of the shower, rocking his hips into the rhythm of her actions. He managed to resist the urge to grab her by the hair. Oh fuck, he was almost there.

  "Miko... gonna..." Her head lifted but her hand didn't stop. He came hard, fountaining come that splattered his stomach and washed back down across her hand as it mixed with the water from the shower. Her mouth brushed across his.

  Vaughn gazed at her, the heady after burn stealing his energy. She looked amused and blissfully happy. He traced a finger along her mouth. She was just amazing.

  "I think food and more sleep are in order," she said.

  Chapter 5

  They raided the kitchen for a late night snack. Sumiko sat in her wheel chair, wearing one of Vaughn's shirts and her undies. After the shower she had debated the merits of coercing her body to walk more in the confines of his apartment, but decided tomorrow's pain price would probably be too high if she did.

  Vaughn was putting together some turkey and Swiss sandwiches. After the heat of the shower, the kitchen seemed chilly; hot chocolate seemed warranted. Miko watched him at the counter, a pair of beat to hell jeans clinging to the damp sculptured curves of his ass. She envied the unconscious ease of his movements, something she would never have again. Damn, the fatigue was getting to her. She didn't usually allow herself to think about the things she'd lost.

  He smiled at her as he set the food on the table beside her. Oh lord... those dimples. His expression sobered and he sat down facing her.

  "You okay? You out of spoons?" he asked. She had to laugh a little that he'd remembered the metaphor.

  "Unfortunately, pretty close."

  "Eat, then I'll tuck you in bed, for sleeping purposes." He glanced in the direction of the clock on the microwave. "Um, it's past one. I'm gonna be in a coma at work in the morning."

  "No," she said firmly
.

  "Huh?"

  "No work. Despite the fact you feel better, you have no shields," she said. She delivered the psi equivalent of a light slap. He flinched so hard she immediately felt guilty for proving her point.

  "Geez... fuck..." he muttered, rubbing his temples.

  "If you fell and skinned the crap out of both knees, you wouldn't voluntarily go kneel down on gravel the next morning. Same thing. In the morning, we're going to hang out, have coffee and hope I can teach you how to raise your shields. Got it?"

  He drew a deep breath, "Yeah... I got it."

  ***

  The literal part of sleeping with Sumiko was a little odder than he was used to. It involved finding most of the pillows he owned and letting her arrange them under and between her legs as she lay on her side. There was also one tucked against her chest to support her arm and help prevent her from twisting her body too much in her sleep.

  "It's not usually this complicated," she said. "I have this big ass, five foot long body pillow I usually sleep with. It's a whole lot simpler."

  "Am I going to hurt you if I turn over and hit up against you?" he asked.

  "Not unless you're a particularly violent sleeper. This has more to do with me unconsciously flopping around and making me ache really badly in the morning."

  "Okay, just making sure." He flipped off the light and stretched out facing her. In the darkness, she reached out and threaded her fingers between his, rubbing her thumb along the back of his hand. Far more intimate was the velvet soft caress of her mind brushing across his.

  ***

  "You're too wound up. This is not something you can beat into submission," Sumiko reprimanded him.

  They had spent the past twenty minutes slouched on the sofa, with her trying to coax him into bringing his shields up. It seemed like some sort of voodoo on her part. Vaughn could tell when she had hers up or down but getting his brain to copy her seemed like an impossible task. His head was starting to hurt all over again. At least it wasn't pounding with the same sickening force as yesterday.

  "Maybe this isn't something I can learn," he growled in frustration.

  "Yes, you can. Go get some more coffee. Stop thinking about it for a few minutes. What's your usual routine in the morning?"

  "Coffee, breakfast, run or gym, shower, dress, go to work."

  "Go run then. Get your headspace back toward your normal routine," she said.

  "What are you going to do?"

  "Go back to my hotel and get some clean clothes.... How far is it from here to my hotel?"

  "Maybe three miles," Vaughn replied.

  "Is that longer or shorter than you usually run?"

  "Only a little longer. I have a two and a half mile loop I usually do."

  "How's this for a game plan -- throw a change of clothes in that gym bag you kicked out of the way last night. I'll take it with me, and you can meet me over at my hotel room when you're done."

  "Um... okay.... You'll be okay getting back there by yourself?" He thought about the fact he had helped her with the whole wheelchair and cab thing yesterday.

  "I'll be fine. I've been dealing with this for months," she said and he mentally kicked himself for implying she was helpless when he knew damn well she wasn't. "Here's another warning though," she continued. "Depending on how crowded the streets are... you may find the thought noise really annoying."

  ***

  Sumiko opened the hotel room door, already knowing it was Vaughn on the other side. His body hugging leggings and turtleneck were drenched with sweat and the guy looked absolutely on edge. He shut the door behind himself and basically slid down the inside to land on his butt, arms hugged around his knees. His eyes were squeezed shut.

  "How the hell do you do it?" he whispered. "I passed some woman who was so upset she wanted to cry and some guy who was pissed as all hell and this mother with a screaming kid. And I swear this other guy was thinking about raping somebody. And there's this constant background gunk that makes me want to grind my teeth..."

  "Mostly I don't do it. Either my shields are blocking it, or I'm focused on something specific and I've learned to ignore the rest. Get up." Sumiko turned her wheelchair and headed for the sofa. "Come on. Let's try again." She beckoned him toward the couch. He flopped onto it and scrubbed his hands down across his face. "Deep breath. Blow it out slow. Close your eyes," she said. "Think about how much you don't like feeling all the crap other people are experiencing. Visualize something hard and impenetrable that will wall it all out."

  She could feel him pushing and pulling and straining with the concept. And then his shields slammed up rigid and hard enough to make her flinch just a little.

  "Oh, that's not bad," she said warmly. He squinted at her.

  "It's silent."

  "It's supposed to be that way."

  "It's really silent like the ringing in your ears deafness you get when you fire a gun without ear protection on. It makes me feel... weird. I keep thinking if I close my eyes you'll vanish... I can't tell that you're there," he said.

  "It's an adjustment. Eventually you'll learn to fine tune it, so that you can leave yourself open just a little for safety purposes but keep the rest out. Now, the flip side, drop your shields."

  "I'm just supposed to be able to undo it?" The look he gave her was skeptical.

  "Yep." She sensed him try, without success, several times. "Leave it be. It won't hurt you to have them up for a while. Go take a shower."

  He made a face. "You sound an awful like one of the drill instructors at FLETC."

  She just grinned.

  While he showered, Sumiko sat on the bed with her Amplug stuck into her electric guitar. Her headphones and mp3 were plugged into it. She played along with a favorite song, eyes closed. A touch on her leg caught her attention and she stopped playing.

  Vaughn was wearing a towel wrapped around his hips, and nothing else. Mmm, yum. His expression looked troubled though. She pulled her ear buds out.

  "I like the quiet, sort of... but I... I don't like... I can't feel you. God, that makes me sound like some little kid," he lamented.

  She took hold of his hands. "In terms of learning to do this sort of thing, you are a little kid. You have the inherent ability but pretty close to no idea how to use it. I grew up in a family where knowing what other people were thinking was a given. It can make for some really spectacular emotional fireworks. When Division P hired me, I already had a clue, some basics. You don't. It's going to take time." She turned one of his hands over and rubbed her thumb in a small circle in the center of his palm. He looked puzzled. She lifted his hand to her mouth and kissed the same spot.

  “Open,” she whispered, dropping her own shielding. It was an incredibly dangerous little trick she'd learned from Division P's head psychologist. If you could trigger the palm chakra which was often used in healing capacities, you could sometimes coax a psi in trouble to connect to another psi. The downside -- it placed the person doing it in an incredibly vulnerable position of having none of their own defenses accessible.

  Vaughn's shields melted into nothingness and she felt his intense relief surge through her. The tension level in his body dropped several notches and his fingers curved against her cheek.

  "Thank you," he whispered.

  "Remember that feeling. It'll help you get better at lowering them by yourself."

  "This all very definitely has the feeling that it takes a psychic to teach another one."

  "I don't think it can be done any other way. Words are pathetically inefficient," she said. He leaned forward and kissed her.

  Chapter 6

  This felt like another crazy game. There were five blank keys and five of those rubber band-like wrist bands imprinted with the Live Strong motif. They were spread on the desk of Sumiko's hotel suite in front of Vaughn. Her explanation was that each item had been carried or worn by one of the Division P staff for a week and he was supposed to pick up the items and describe the person who had carried them. Right, like there was a snowball's chance in hell he was going to get any of these correct.

  There was a time, all of three days ago, when he probably would have thought this was total and complete bullshit. Now... what was that freakin' quote? Something or other about the things dreamed of in heaven and earth....