“SyFy.” She buried her head in his chest and Holt laughed.
“Tank’s favorite channel. It’s fucking scary how much you two have in common. I thought I’d finally get away from being forced to watch shows about aliens, guys with pointy ears, and big-ass space ships. Let’s give it a go.” He flipped at rapid speed to SyFy and Naiya shrieked in delight.
“Oh. My. God. It’s a cult classic. The 1980 version of Flash Gordon. It’s so good, Holt. You’ll love it. It’s about a football player who goes into outer space and faces down a super villain named Ming the Merciless. It’s the ultimate in camp.” She snatched the remote from his hand and turned up the volume. So what if it was the ultimate in geekiness. Some pleasures were just meant to be shared.
“You weren’t even born in 1980.” Holt settled on the bed, tucking Naiya beside him, her head against his shoulder. “Neither was I, so I’m guessing the special effects are gonna leave a lot to be desired.”
They watched the opening credits, and Holt stiffened. “That sounds like Queen.”
“It is Queen. They did the soundtrack.”
“What a damn waste of good music.” He stroked her hair as if he knew she was about to rear up and lambast him for putting down one of the classic science fiction movies of all time.
“Shhhh. You’re ruining the mood.” She snuggled into his chest, toying aimlessly with his belt.
Holt shifted on the bed, his arm tightening around her. “You keep playing down there and the mood’s gonna change real fast to something that doesn’t involve some pansy ass prancing around. Seriously. That’s the hero? I could kick his ass in less than thirty seconds. Who talks like that?”
“It was the 1980s.” Naiya poked him in the stomach. “Now hush up. It gets better.”
But what got better was Holt’s reaction to the movie. Every few minutes, he huffed or snorted, interrupting her with his running commentary about the stilted way the characters said their lines, the cheese ball drama, the retro set design, the special effects, and … his favorite, the over-the-top costumes.
“A real man wouldn’t dress in red spandex,” he said laughing at Flash Gordon’s first costume change. “Anyone tried to put that on me and I’d shoot them.”
And then, after seeing yet another scantily clad woman—”Jesus Fuck!” he shouted. “It’s one fetishistic costume after another. I want to see you in something like that. Especially pink.”
Thoroughly enjoying his commentary, she wasn’t ready when he shot up, spilling her off his chest as he roared with laughter.
“Jesus Christ. What are the Hawkmen wearing?” His chest heaved, and his eyes teared. “I wish Tank could see this. I’ll bet he knows this movie. Next time I see him, I’m gonna give him fucking hell for not telling me about it.”
Naiya smiled, her pleasure at his laughter bittersweet. She wondered if he realized how often he talked about Tank, how Tank was still a part of his life. How much he loved him. He would never get over losing Tank, especially if he was the one to pull the trigger.
“What are you smiling about, aside from this disaster of a movie?” He pulled her up between his legs, her back to his chest, the bulge of his erection unmistakable against her ass.
“You,” she said. “I’ve never heard you laugh before. Really laugh. I’ll have to show you some more of my favorite geek movies so I can hear you laugh again.”
“Like my geeky girl.” His lips whispered over her ear, his breath warm on her skin. “And her comic-book hero fetish.”
Naiya glanced down at her ring, twisted it around her hand. “I never thought of it that way, but it’s true. My favorite heroes are from comic books.”
“What about me?”
She turned in his lap, slid her hands over his shoulders, her knees on either side of his hips. “If you put on a pair of those black leather Hawkman Speedos, you might just make the cut.”
With a low growl, Holt pulled her closer until she could feel the beat of his heart against her breast. “Pathetic earthling,” he teased. “No one can save you now.” He nuzzled her neck, and desire sizzled through her veins.
“I’ve created a geek,” she said with a laugh.
He cut her off with a kiss, his lips soft and warm, and his arms holding her tight. “You saved one.” His mouth moved over hers, and she gave herself over to the moment—the pounding of her heart, the ache between her thighs, the spiral of heat curled low in her belly.