READING/BOOKS

When Dingo had told her, a little more than halfway through their first adventure together, that he'd learned about rocket fuel through reading, she'd been fairly certain he was mostly being an ass. When he'd followed up on that comment with the mocking statement about having books on the surface, she'd been almost positive. But now, having spent several years with him, she had to admit it had most likely been the truth.

Her husband loved books.

He had a cabinet at home with a small, but varied, collection, and he took every opportunity he could to add to it. She couldn't count the number of times she'd found him up on the roof or out in the desert reading. If someone even mentioned the word "book" his eyes lit up like a missile explosion.

Dingo loved books. It didn't matter the subject, or whether they were factual or fictional. Dingo devoured novels and scientific journals with equal fervor. It was adorable. She'd even told him so. In typical Dingo fashion, he hadn't been embarrassed. No. Dingo had grinned, laid his book aside with deliberate calm, and asked just how adorable, his eyes making a lingering circuit of her form that told her exactly where he was headed with the question.

Of course she'd indulged him. Very few things in life could ever cause her to turn down a tumble in the sheets with the man she loved. And smart guys were sexy.

That might have been the first time they role played. Or maybe the second. The timeline got a little fuzzy when it came to things like that.

But she digressed.

Dingo loved books. So it didn't surprise her at all when the rumor of a buried library several days' drive away had him chomping at the bit for a new adventure. There was no use reminding him that it wasn't practical, or that it wouldn't pay. Dingo was determined to find those books. They had a little money saved away, and it wasn't as though he asked for much in life, really. How could Angela say no?

Still, after more than a week of bouncing around in the cab of the big truck, taking turns sleeping on the cot in the back, she was kind of wishing she'd let him go on this particular adventure alone. It didn't help matters that every time they reached the supposed end of their journey someone pointed them to yet another dusty little town. She was beginning to think this whole thing was a wild goose chase.

Dingo, of course, was loving the whole thing. Each extension of the journey was just another layer of mystery to him, adding to his anticipation. She hoped he wasn't disappointed in the end. Though Dingo rarely seemed disappointed with anything, so maybe she was fretting for nothing.

"Hey, I think we're here," Dingo called back from the cab.

Angela blinked at the ceiling a few times and then forced herself out of the tiny bed. Time to learn the next leg of the wild goose chase.

"Good morning, sleepy head." Dingo smiled at her, then he looked back out the windshield, one hand raised to point at a cluster of dingy buildings still a little ways off. "It's that settlement right up there."

Angela bent to brush a kiss across his cheek before settling into the passenger seat to work out the tangles in her long hair. She should really think about cutting it; long hair was impractical given their lifestyle and their line of work. She didn't care one way or another, but Dingo liked it long, she knew, which was why she'd never followed through on the idea. Not that she thought he'd complain if she did cut it.

"You ready?" he asked, putting the truck in park on the outskirts of the settlement. He didn't wait for an answer as he practically bounced out of his seat. God, he was like a little kid sometimes, she thought with fond exasperation. It was nice to see him so excited though, even if she was ready for the end of this fieldtrip.

The door opened before she reached the handle and Dingo lifted her out onto the sand. Even after all this time it still surprised her how ridiculously tall he was. And how well they fit together despite that. He caught her hand and led her through the sand toward the town.

"What's your hurry?" she asked, though she knew if he wanted to he could move much faster. Hell, a normal walking pace for him was nearly a jog for her shorter legs, so he wasn't even doing that.

He grinned down at her. "We're close. I can feel it."

She rolled her eyes. He'd said that at their last two stops. Personally, she wasn't holding out much hope.

It was early in the day and few of the meagre collection of rag tag stores were open yet. Dingo found one where the owner was setting up for the day and introduced himself. Once the requisite small talk was over, he casually inquired about the library.

"So, I heard there was a new find out this way," Dingo said. "An archeological site."

The shopkeep grunted, one mammoth arm shooting outward, and Angela braced herself for another roadtrip through the desert. "You'll be wanting to speak with Marlo about that. Brought in quite a haul, as I understand it. Not that anyone out here has much use for it."

"Hey, what do you know." Dingo looked from the shopkeep to Angela and back with an easy smile, never betraying how important the information was to him. "I was beginning to think it was an urban legend."

"Nope. Marlo. Fifth shop on the left."

Angela looked down the line of the shopkeep's arm. The cluster of buildings in that direction seemed even more derelict than the rest of the outpost. Goose chase. Almost definitely.

"Thanks. Maybe I'll check it out." Dingo tipped his hat to the man and offered his arm to Angela. When she took it the muscle was practically vibrating – despite his collected exterior, Dingo was thrilled.

"You want me to do the talking?" she asked. Something she'd learned in DEVA's security force was that it never paid to be too eager. That was something Dingo knew as well.

He shook his head. "I'm cool."

She studied him critically. She supposed to someone who didn't know him like she did he would indeed appear "cool." She conceded with a nod.

They had to wait a few more minutes for Marlo to open shop. Dingo spent the time chatting amiably with the other vendors in the area as they opened. It was amazing to watch him work, the way he casually encouraged people to open up and tell him exactly what he needed to know without them ever realizing he was on a fishing expedition. Even after seeing him do it thousands of times she was still impressed every time. This was why DEVA had kept him on despite his "rebellious nature." They'd even had the nerve to offer him work after the Frontier Setter incident. Of course, she'd been careful to leave his involvement out of her report, so it was possible they didn't know he'd assisted in the demolishment of half their surface task force.

Dingo nudged her gently with his elbow. "He's here."

The door to the little shop swung open revealing that "he" was actually a little old woman with eyes too big for her face. Dingo smiled down at her and Angela knew it was a lost cause. It didn't matter if Marlo'd found a library or not, they'd be leaving this hole in the wall with something one way or another.

The thing about Dingo was that he got along with everyone, but especially women. He could get anything out of a woman, just by turning up the charm. By the same token, women could get a lot out of him. Not that Dingo was in any way unfaithful –he had eyes for no one but Angela, and if a woman hinted she wanted that sort of thing he immediately turned cold– but so long as a woman didn't expect that, he'd bend over backwards to help her out.

As it turned out, Marlo did have books, though nowhere near the treasure trove the initial rumor had implied. That was probably a good thing, Angela thought, because Dingo had bartered almost their entire savings and the spare radiator for the little chest they'd come away with. There were maybe a dozen books in the chest, but Dingo was grinning like they'd hit the mother lode.

Idiot.

"Angela, drive first shift will you?" he asked with puppy-dog eyes. "I want to see what we've got."

She rolled her eyes at his eagerness, but technically it was her shift anyway so she didn't complain. She left the music off so that he could concentrate and they drove a long time with no sound except the flutter and slide of turning pages.

"You should pace yourself," she warned as he began to thumb through the second book only an hour or so later. "You'll read through them all in the first two days."

He shrugged. "I can read them again," he said.

Honestly. The man had no self-control when it came to reading. But, really, it was adorable. Besides, if she was calculating this correctly, the direct route home would take them a little over two days. If he read through all the books in that time she wouldn't have any competition for his attention when they got home. Ten days without sharing a bed was more than enough.

"On second thought," she said, "read as fast as you like."

His gaze flitted to hers in question and she smirked, but let him draw his own conclusions. After a moment his brows winged upwards.

"Ahh." He sat up abruptly and began rooting through the chest.

"What are you doing?" she asked, struggling to keep an eye on him and on the desert in front of them.

"I'm checking to see if there's any smut in here."

"Smut?" she echoed. She tried to remember if she'd ever heard that term before and came up blank. It was hard to believe after all these years there was still surface slang to learn.

"Yeah. You know, sex."

What? "You're looking for porn?" Against her will she felt her cheeks darken.

Dingo chuckled. "They don't keep porn in libraries, Ange. This would be tasteful." He paused thoughtfully. "Mostly," he amended.

Her brain was stuck on the fact that he was looking for dirty books. "What are you going to do if you find it?"

He looked up to wag his eyebrows at her. "Save it for last. To get us in the mood."

"Us?"

He snorted. "Well, yeah. I'm gonna read it out loud. When we're almost home. It'll be fun. And by the time we finish we'll be ready to, well, finish."

Angela choked on nothing at all. Oh God. He couldn't be serious, could he? Unbidden, images of him whispering dirty passages into her ear and against her skin flooded her mind's eye and she shuddered. God, just the thought of his voice . . . She'd probably never told him, but Dingo's voice did things to her. Even without the dirty talk.

"You alright, Ange? You're looking a little red-faced there."

She turned wide eyes to him and immediately they narrowed of their own will.

He was laughing at her. Not out loud, of course, but his eyes were sparkling with mischief, and suddenly she realized that he was teasing her.

She smacked his arm.

"Oi, Angela, two hands on the wheel," he protested as he rubbed the offended appendage.

"You jerk! There aren't any dirty books in there, are there?"

"Well, sure. They're all pretty dirty. But that's to be expected when they've been buried in the desert for—"

"Stop. You know what I mean. There aren't any book about . . . that in there."

"That, Angela? What are we, ten?"

"Dingo!"

He smiled. "Disappointed, Angela? Maybe you were looking forward to hearing me read to you about that."

"You are such an idiot, Zarik Kajiwara!"

Dingo caught her hand as it flailed out for another smack and pressed a kiss to the back of her palm.

"You should have know right from the beginning," he said, tone entirely too reasonable for this conversation.

"That you're an idiot? I did know that, but thank you for reminding me."

He shook his head. "That I was just teasing. It's not like we need anything to get us in the mood."

She sniffed. "We will now. I'm not sure two days is long enough for me to forgive you."

Dingo, being Dingo, was not at all put off by her sour mood.

"Liar," he chided with gentle humor. "I give it two minutes."

"Oh, and why is that?"

"Well," he drawled, "I've got this whole pile of books to read on the way home."

As if that had anything to do with anything? If he thought being quiet would get him back in her good graces he had another thing coming.

"And?" she asked imperiously.

"And, as I recall, a certain someone finds my infatuation with books adorable. Maybe more than adorable."

Angela stared at him, struggling to find an appropriate retort, because, damn it he was right. Two days watching him read out of the corner of her eye and she'd so be over this and ready for some very physical relief.

At length she looked back out into the desert. "Who needs mood anyway," she grumbled.

Dingo chuckled. "You'll be thinking about it," he sing-songed.

Angela scowled.

For the next two days Dingo read when he wasn't driving, stopping only to take a cat nap here and there. And, yes, Angela thought about it. A lot. It wasn't fair. How could anyone make the simple task of reading so sexy? She might have almost, kind of, hated him for it if she didn't love him so damn much.

They were two steps in the door of their home when she jumped him. Dingo had been reading as he walked, something science looking and probably super stuffy. She expected him to drop the book when she latched onto him, lips seeking his ravenously, but the anticipated thump of tome hitting floor never came.

"Dingo," she mumbled around enthusiastic kisses. "Why are you still hanging on to that book? I need you to touch me."

Dingo chuckled, his free hand splaying across the bare skin of her back where her shirt had ridden up. "I am touching you. The book is for later."

"Later?" Had there been smut in that chest after all? Some part of her was a tiny bit excited by the thought. She glanced down surreptitiously, but, no, it was definitely some sort of science textbook.

"Mmm," he hummed against her collarbone. "It's not about what you read, Angela, it's about how you read it." His voice dropped to a husky murmur that scraped her nerves in just the right way and she shuddered against him.

Damn it. Apparently she didn't have to tell him what his voice did to her, he'd figured it out all on his own. Damn perceptive man. She buried her face in his shoulder, mortified, and he brought his free hand up to stroke her hair.

"But that's for later. Right now, let me show you how much I've missed you?"

The next instant her legs were locked around his hips and he was supporting her with one hand as he moved them to the bedroom. True to his word he tossed the book onto the table beside the bed and proceeded to shower her with affection. It wasn't until many minutes later, in the post sex bliss, that he lazily pulled the book off the table and opened to a page at random.

She tried to push up on one elbow to look at him, but she was too tired, so instead she turned on her side. "You're really going to read to me from a textbook?" she asked.

"Tsk, tsk. Don't judge a book by its cover." The way he smiled told her this was another surface saying she was unfamiliar with. "Relax and listen." He reached out and urged her eyelids closed with gentle fingertips, and then he began to read.

It really was a science textbook, she realized very quickly, filled with unfamiliar academic jargon, probably something on the university level, from back when there had been such things. Her brain soon gave up trying to identify the words and instead focused on the rise and fall of his voice.

It was then that she discovered he was absolutely right. It didn't matter what he was reading so long as he continued in that sultry mix of sex and song. His voice felt like fingers caressing her skin and she shuddered as she came to a realization.

Watching Dingo read was adorable. Sexy.

Listening to him read was down right orgasmic.