Storm Page 7

  He dropped on the sheet, twisting to face me. I sank my mouth around his wet glans, taste of him sort of salty, sort of musky, still pool chlorine and soap. Down as deep as I could take him, one hand on his shaft to control his motions as he tried to push up into my throat.

  I let go abruptly since that seemed the theme, beginning to feel dazed, intoxicated. Ramak swarmed over my skin, kisses and touches, while I moaned, becoming clay he sculpted.

  Three, maybe four times, I thought he would make the extra move, shift or push or change of position, and he would be fucking me. It seemed to me that women are not usually the ones saying, “Enough foreplay already, dear.” Did he just like a woman to beg? Okay, no shame at this point. I was so on fire he could have sneezed down there and pushed me over.

  At my next chance in our twining, I fell to my back, legs open, holding onto his face at the same time, pulling him above me.

  Ramak was sweating a little, and yeah, maybe I was also, hearts pounding with our flying breaths. His tongue found mine. His dick slid up my thighs, only to pull back, lowering himself to kiss my breast.

  “Oh, my God!” I gasped. “What the fuck are you trying to prove? Fuck me!”

  “What?” Head coming up.

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  “We can’t.” Recoiling more, his dark skin glistening with a sheen in the flashlight glow.

  “Do you have something?”

  “What?” Again—like an idiot, which he totally was not.

  “Do you have something? Like really serious? HIV? Because otherwise we can!”

  “No, I don’t ‘have something,’” he snapped back. “But haven’t had a vasectomy either.”

  I slid down until I reached his erection again, pulling him to me, stroking. “I’m pretty sure about a million people just died in an earthquake and tsunami in this state alone. I know the world is totally fucked up right now, but a kid or two is so not the catastrophe we should be worried about. If you’re that freaked by possible offspring, I’ve got a couple other guys watching my back. But, like, thanks for being responsible in the heat of the moment … I guess.”

  “No.” He pulled himself over me, on hands and knees, our noses brushing. “I want kids. I’ve always wanted a family. And there’s never been a worse time and we don’t even know each other.”

  “What did I just say?” I seized his face instead—both hands. “There’s never been a better time. And how much more do you want to know? We’ve been living together for ten days. You know me better than ninety-five percent of the people in my life ever have. Or … ever will.”

  We looked into each other’s eyes, another long beat, close and panting, practically feeling the sweat dripping off him. He sat back, pulled my arms. I followed, actually dizzy with the rush and blood dropping from my head.

  Another swirl, but slow, long kisses and light touches. He’d thought we’d tease and finish off with oral or whatever, all this time. Now he had to cool down. I waited, kissing him, hardly touching him, not wanting his first second inside me to be his last anymore than he did.

  More circling and slow turns. I sank onto hands and knees, stretching out a sore back from too many days of backpack and pounding pavement, head dropped, breathing deeply while he kissed down my spine. He moved behind, reached around me to fondle my breasts, his penis sliding across my thigh, and the next moment the tip was there. I don’t think he’d necessarily meant it, still moving slowly, then feeling burning, wet embrace around the head of his dick that no male can resist giving a push to meet. He let out a shuddering breath, moving with a slight roll to his hips. I moaned, leaning back just as he moved, and felt in that joint motion that he was penetrating me.

  With a non-word exclamation, Ramak grabbed my hips and thrust, filling me. He rolled with deep strokes, switching the simmer back to boil. I shifted my weight, finding the best sensation and holding that while he thrust, so I was there before he was, making me cry out, practically weepy from the intensity of the rush that had been so long in coming. That was too much for him: violent series of thrusts, holding in, scattered words and groans and vanished breath as he lost his semen in me. As with my own, it seemed to keep him on the high for a long time, holding the crest and pressure, coming down by millimeters.

  It was another minute before he pulled out and hot fluid trickled down the insides of my thighs. All my limbs were shaking. So, so not cold, I sank onto my side as if melting.

  Ramak followed, pulling the sheet with him, then a fuzzy blanket so sweat wouldn’t chill on our naked skins. Was his hand also trembling?

  I tucked my head into his chest. He wrapped arm and leg over me.

  I willed him not to say anything—like about our life choices. He did not. In minutes, he pulled the sleeping bag up over us and I was already drifting. All good, letting us stay in the moment. Even so, the last thing I remember thinking clearly was that I’d never known a man with such self-control.

  Chapter 18

  I dozed, woke kissing, warm and held, dozed again, and woke with startled thoughts of floods and fire—a world destroyed. With a shudder, I pressed in tight against Ramak’s chest. He kissed my head, rubbed my back, and I realized he was awake.

  Of course, I didn’t want to go back to sleep then either. Kissing turned to stroking, then moving, biting nipples, feeling between one another’s legs.

  I straddled him this time, lowering myself onto him while Ramak’s penis strained upward for me. I held his shaft, guided him, then let go slowly as I settled onto his hips.

  For much of the night, it seemed, we rode that long wave, Ramak reaching to turn the flashlight back on so we could look into one another’s eyes. That was some added layer. I don’t even know what… Mute, our bodies joined, watching each other in the dark, eyes locked, for minutes at a time. I’d had powerful sexual encounters lately. This was almost like a different activity. Like yoga sex or erotic meditation.

  I came after him, watching his eyes that tried to hold mine, eventually rolling back in his head and closing. It was once more long, tickling my whole body.

  I climbed off to see him while he was still swollen, running one fingertip up the length of his glistening shaft as he shuddered and recoiled a bit.

  We wrapped up again—all slow, wet, post-sex kisses … sleep without nightmares.

  I still felt a little dazed in the morning, longing to stay in bed all day.

  It was a slog, leaving Ramak and our warmth and more kisses.

  He wanted me again, holding on, his dick rubbing my skin, but I pulled away. I felt like there was half a fireplace floating around in my eyes and sinuses and down my throat. I needed another dunking, a second scrub, hoping the ash had finally stopped falling this morning, encouraged further to get up because of the sweet promise of working toilets.

  We were all slow to start moving, it turned out. Washing, breakfast, no one saying much. I’d been sure Jackson would tease at least me—if not give Ramak a hard time also. No. He was so quiet, in fact, I caught Trent’s eye, frowning, trying to ask what was amiss as we got the fire going. Trent glanced anxiously at Jackson, who coughed as he recapped his water bottle, though he’d just taken a drink to soothe coughing.

  “Jackson? You okay?” It wasn’t until I sat down to face him that I noticed how flushed his face was.

  Jackson waved me off. “This damn smoke, or whatever all the hell it is. I’ll be glad to get to Ellensburg, I can tell you.” He stopped to cough, turning his head away.

  “Yeah…” I reached to press his knee. “We’ll all be glad. And we’ll be there soon.” But I looked around as he coughed and had to take another drink, catching Ramak’s eye now as he stood by the buffet bar, having just come into the room and watching us.

  Trent’s brows were drawn, corners of his mouth turned down. Ramak dropped his gaze.

  We ate breakfast mostly in silence.

  Of course we’d known all along. We’d all been exposed right at first after the quake. One more part
of this storm. Nothing we could do. And we were young, healthy, just the group of people to recover. We’d be okay. Except that even those people, people like us, needed treatment if they got a bad case. At the very least lots of rest and fluids and clear air while the virus attacked their lungs and left them with a raging fever.

  Now, we had much, much less than the least.

  Chapter 19

  Thirty miles to Ellensburg according to interstate signs. We could be there before dark. Except that it was already dark—daytime sky black and gray, heavy with an oppressive feeling like a blanket bearing down on us. That wasn’t even the worst of it today. It was the cold. Down from the Cascades, I’d thought we could find warmer temperatures. Instead, with supposed sunrise and tentative bird calls telling us it was daylight, nothing changed. It felt nearly as cold today as it had up on the snow line, only much drier and darker.

  I wrapped a towel around my head for scarf and hat, Trent following my example, Ramak pulling up his hood and walking with hands in pockets. I’d assumed we were overpacking by bringing these coats from North Bend, really wanting them for rain. Instead, I wished I had a wool hat, long underwear, mittens… Not cold enough to snow, but still February cold, not May.

  We shivered as we walked through town before turning right to rejoin I-90. Other than Jackson. His coat was unzipped and his palm felt sweaty in my hand when I took it.

  He gave me a smile, striding at my side. “You’ll like Ellensburg. College town. Nice place.”

  “I didn’t realize. Which one?” Thinking vaguely of Evergreen, but knowing that was closer to home.

  “Central Washington University. There’ll be people there. Good base to muster rescue teams and filter evacuees. You’ve got I-90 going east, or I-82 going south from Ellensburg. Three ways in and out.”

  I nodded, watching him, then the puffs of ash feathering up from all our steps like some weird visual effect, something creepy about it, beyond normal workings of shoes and pavement.

  “What I’m most looking forward to when we get to them is a phone call,” I said. “I’ll call my mom and she’ll call everyone else. What do you want first thing when you reach civilization?”

  “Pizza.”

  I laughed. “Ambitious.”

  “News,” Ramak said from just ahead and to my left. “What’s happened, the rescue efforts…”

  “Good news,” Trent said, level to my left. “First thing when we see people and the first person who says hello, I want to say, ‘What’s happening?’ And them say, ‘They’ve got a vaccine.’ Or something like that.”

  We all paused on that one, thinking. No one said, “But they said it would be a year,” or otherwise criticized Trent’s dream.

  “Me too.” I offered my left hand, which Trent took. “I want that, and a phone, and a pizza, and news about the quake and rescues. But mostly that … and cinnamon rolls.”

  “Not going to hear it if we don’t get there,” Jackson said, turning right, striking out at a brisker pace as we returned to I-90, now void of those endless lines of parked cars, wide open, stretching into a smoggy abyss.

  Likewise, no one said, “You have a fever; we can’t do this if we’re sick.” Or, “One more day walking through this air is all it’s going to take for us all to suffocate.” Or, “What if there isn’t anyone in Ellensburg? What if it’s not just one more day? What if we can’t do this?”

  No one said anything. We kept walking down the interstate, holding on tight, together, for as long as we could. For as long as it took.

  Dear Reader

  Another adventure awaits: the final of the Love Versus World trilogy, Breathe, is available here!

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  K.R.

  Paranormal Reverse Harem series by K.R. Alexander:

  The Devil Rose Up From Georgia

  Foxes of the Midnight Sun

  The Witch and the Wolf Pack

  Contemporary Reverse Harem series by K.R. Alexander:

  Love Versus World

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