His breath left him and went into his cock as she opened the robe and let it fall to the floor. He grunted and pressed his hand on his cock, raising his gaze to catch her smile. She liked that reaction. He was eager to know everything she liked. She eyed his hand on his cock with a look that said watching him aroused her. A lot.
The need to do too much reminded him about his mission. “I’m going to work.” If it killed him. “Learn everything I can about this operation and what we need to do first.”
“You just need to call Dr. Vindel,” she hurried in a soft voice. Hopeful.
“I will,” he assured.
“He said you can call any time.” She clearly wanted him to drop everything and call him in that second.
He considered that and raised his brows. “Get the phone, then.”
Her joyful squeal sounded like a lottery winner and it made Ben chuckle as she raced to the desk behind her and raced just as fast back with the phone. “I have it programmed in,” she said, her words shaking. She handed the phone to him. “Just press send.”
Ben took the phone, then her wrist, holding it as he stared up at her. The breathless anticipation in her face told him a dozen secrets that had him frantic to explore. It called him to lead her sexually. It wasn’t something he’d ever done or had the desire to, but now that he had a small taste, it ranked up there with needing oxygen.
“Kiss me.” It’s what he’d initially wanted. It wasn’t leading per-se, but judging by her response to that simple request, it was exactly what she needed and craved from him.
Ben waited for it, remaining still. She pressed her lips against his and he allowed his own to part, giving her access to do what she’d done before. She’d used her tongue. He liked that, wanted that. He never wanted to kiss again without feeling her tongue in his mouth, he realized.
Her hitched, tentative breaths heated his mouth as she kissed along his parted lips. A delicate, innocent trek of exploration. He opened more, letting her know where he wanted her to explore. She parted her lips more too, angling her head as though searching for the right spot. Ben reached for her lips with his tongue and the single swipe he managed rewarded him with her sharp breath followed by tiny moans. The sound drew his harsh groan as hungry heat pummeled his cock. He wanted to say more, but instead he said, “Stop.”
She drew back sharply, a look of worry on her face.
“Because if you don’t,” he explained, eyeing her. “I don’t’ know what will happen.”
The gradual melting of her face into a shy, aroused out of her mind woman only added more heat to his groin. God, he could hardly believe this erotic angel had been living with him all these years and he hadn’t met her till now. That was the real tragedy.
Calling About a New Head
Ben hit send on the phone and held out his arm to Cheryl who moved to put her robe back on. He barely shook his head no, realizing his mistake when she crawled on the bed and sat next to him, watching and waiting.
It was hard not to gasp his hello when the man answered the phone. “Mrs. Rabinowski?”
“Uh, Mr. actually.”
A brief pause ended with his, “Oh my God, hold on.”
Ben eyed Cheryl’s breasts, waiting as clamoring sounded on the line. She had perfect breasts he realized.
“I’m so sorry,” the man said. “I had to get my glasses and where I could speak. It’s so very good to meet you, hear from you. I take it Mrs. Rabinowski has informed you of our proposition?”
“She did, but I was hoping to get all the details from you.”
“Absolutely,” he said, sounding ecstatic. “Where should I start?”
“The beginning would work for me.”
He gave a boisterous laugh before diving right in with, “First, I have to tell you something. Being a man of Science, I am in the minority as a believer in miracles. If I told you some of the things I have seen in my career, you would understand. And I must tell you right off, that I had intended to call first thing in the morning. Are you ready for this Mr. Rabinowski?”
“I…am,” he said, deciding against a witty answer.
“We have found… a donor. And not just that. Can I call you Ben?”
“Yes.”
“Ben, not just that, but we have two huge investors that are willing to pay for everything.” The man finished in giddy giggles while Ben processed that sudden bit of staggering news.
“Wow.”
“Ben, I know a lot about you because it’s my job as liaison facilitator and major investor in NRRC—or Neurological Robotics Research Center. I have been diligent about pursuing possible leads that qualify for testing some of the ground-breaking technology that’s been developed.”
“Who are the investors?” Ben wondered, feeling like that was important.
“Mr. Fitzgerald and Mr. Wong. Now, Mr. Fitzgerald is a huge stakeholder in all things memory related. He funds Dr. Bart Cobbins’ research, a world-renowned memory expert. Which I knew, and which is why I strategically dropped in his ear what we were proposing should be done with the latest memory science. I followed with us simply needing to raise the money to do it and hoping we were able, while having this miraculous window of opportunity. He bit immediately. And Mr. Wong, well, he’s located in China where we’d want to conduct the procedure due to existing prohibitions in the US. However, Mr. Wong doesn’t just have the best facilities and money out the wazoo, he’s been working on head transplants for over ten years. His investment allows him to partake in the operation, with credits. I’ll allow you to inject a question or comment here, Ben, I’m sure you have a hundred.”
He should have a hundred. But what Ben had was the opposite. He had nothing. He remembered his role as a father, a husband and protector. “What about my family?”
“Glad you asked,” Dr. Vindel said, elated. “Mr. Wong has already secured one of his private facilities that comes with a private suite where your son and wife would stay, on location. That means the hospital, the home, the rehab, everything is in that facility. It’s remote and out of the public eye which is important to both investors.”
“Why?”
“Well, if I had to guess Ben, and really, I don’t, they wouldn’t want anybody encroaching on their baby. Which is you and this operation. Ben…” he said, sounding awed, his breaths heavy. “You understand that you will make history as the first human to undergo a complete head transplant using Gemini for the actual transplant and the MAD procedure for the memory wipe and re-insertion into the donor’s brain—aka—your new head.”
“I’m speechless.” Ben eyed Cheryl who knelt next to him with forearms against her breast, fists at her nervous mouth, watching him. “Yes, please send me the information. What is the timeline for this?” he wondered.
He gave a measured breath. “Ben, as I’ve said, as an investor and liaison of this miracle operation, I’ve made it my business to learn everything about you. I’m sure you know better than anybody now that your disease is no joke. I spoke to every specialist that had anything to do with your case and when I said this is a miracle, I meant it. The odds that we’d find a donor before this disease became fatal or reached areas that would affect the transplants success were simply astronomical. We’d want to begin procedures immediately.”