small patch of hair, parting her for the first time in months.
She stiffened against me, paralyzed for a moment, and then moaned, nearly falling. I caught her, wrapping my left arm around her waist and continuing to stroke her, bringing forth short, sharp gasps of pleasure.
I moved from one breast to another, lathing each, before trailing across her chest to the other nipple, nipping and suckling in turn.
Sooner than I expected she shuddered against me, whimpering and hugging my head against her chest as the orgasm spasmed through her. I held her, holding my hand against her, allowing her to grind against the heel of my palm.
After a few moments, she pulled my head up and kissed me. I could taste the tears that ran down her face.
“I love you,” she mumbled, over and over again, covering my face with kisses.
Then it was her turn to kiss her way down my neck, finding the spot at the base that made my toes curl. That one spot, just above the artery there where, with the right combination of teeth, lips, and tongue, I lose the ability to stand upright.
Luckily, I could lean into the corner of the shower as she kissed her way down my body, and the world disappeared in an explosion of pleasure.
Afterward, as we were getting dressed, I realized I was short a bra. Not something you just lose in a hotel room, right? We looked under the beds and everything, but no luck.
“I remember you undressing me last night,” I said. “But things are pretty fuzzy.”
“I put it on the dresser there,” she said. I walked over, catching my reflection in the mirror. There was no bra on, under, or behind. “Damn, and I liked that one, too.”
Katie was shoving dirty clothes into the dresser and closing up the suitcases. “I’m sure it will turn up,” she said. “Let’s go get some food.”
I rifled through my suitcase, pulling out another bra, along with jeans, T-shirt, and underwear. “With the amount of smoke in the air last night, maybe we should just burn what we were wearing anyway.”
We dressed, tidied up the room, and checked the essentials. Money, wallet, purse (for Katie), and tourist map. Oh, and Katie had a very cool digital camera. At the last minute, I added my knitting to my pack. It was damn annoying, but I needed the exercise with the right hand. It had healed up great after the battle with the dragon, but I was not getting the dexterity back as fast as I’d hoped. Yes, I’m stubborn, but knitting seemed so—grandma.
Katie said if I got good enough I could knit her a nightie. Always nice to have a goal.
Vancouver was in so much trouble. We were going to eat, shop, and explore the city into submission. I’ve been shopping with Katie. It was a distinct possibility. Should be a good day. Except for the dead dwarf kid, Ari missing, and my bruises blooming, the morning had started nicely, and I was feeling pretty relaxed, considering.
Eight
We prowled the Gastown–Steam Clock district—a touristy section of Vancouver down on the waterfront. Katie loved the huge steam-powered grandfather clock, and I relaxed, watching all the people wandering around, laughing and having a good time.
My throat hurt, and I was stiff all over, but I didn’t want to be a wet blanket on Katie’s birthday. It’s not everyday you turn twenty-five—quarter of a century. I remembered it like it was yesterday. I’d be twenty-seven soon and I felt damn old.
The shops were cool. I loved the one that sold Persian rugs, and Katie almost tried on a kilt. She decided that being descended from some French guy shouldn’t be cause not to wear a tartan. The price decided it in the end. She just couldn’t justify spending that kind of coin on a wool skirt. I picked up a cell phone charger from a little kiosk near the steam clock.
We wandered west and stopped at the train station to check out this really cool statue of an angel reaching toward heaven with one arm. A dead soldier draped over her other arm, face upward toward
She stiffened against me, paralyzed for a moment, and then moaned, nearly falling. I caught her, wrapping my left arm around her waist and continuing to stroke her, bringing forth short, sharp gasps of pleasure.
I moved from one breast to another, lathing each, before trailing across her chest to the other nipple, nipping and suckling in turn.
Sooner than I expected she shuddered against me, whimpering and hugging my head against her chest as the orgasm spasmed through her. I held her, holding my hand against her, allowing her to grind against the heel of my palm.
After a few moments, she pulled my head up and kissed me. I could taste the tears that ran down her face.
“I love you,” she mumbled, over and over again, covering my face with kisses.
Then it was her turn to kiss her way down my neck, finding the spot at the base that made my toes curl. That one spot, just above the artery there where, with the right combination of teeth, lips, and tongue, I lose the ability to stand upright.
Luckily, I could lean into the corner of the shower as she kissed her way down my body, and the world disappeared in an explosion of pleasure.
Afterward, as we were getting dressed, I realized I was short a bra. Not something you just lose in a hotel room, right? We looked under the beds and everything, but no luck.
“I remember you undressing me last night,” I said. “But things are pretty fuzzy.”
“I put it on the dresser there,” she said. I walked over, catching my reflection in the mirror. There was no bra on, under, or behind. “Damn, and I liked that one, too.”
Katie was shoving dirty clothes into the dresser and closing up the suitcases. “I’m sure it will turn up,” she said. “Let’s go get some food.”
I rifled through my suitcase, pulling out another bra, along with jeans, T-shirt, and underwear. “With the amount of smoke in the air last night, maybe we should just burn what we were wearing anyway.”
We dressed, tidied up the room, and checked the essentials. Money, wallet, purse (for Katie), and tourist map. Oh, and Katie had a very cool digital camera. At the last minute, I added my knitting to my pack. It was damn annoying, but I needed the exercise with the right hand. It had healed up great after the battle with the dragon, but I was not getting the dexterity back as fast as I’d hoped. Yes, I’m stubborn, but knitting seemed so—grandma.
Katie said if I got good enough I could knit her a nightie. Always nice to have a goal.
Vancouver was in so much trouble. We were going to eat, shop, and explore the city into submission. I’ve been shopping with Katie. It was a distinct possibility. Should be a good day. Except for the dead dwarf kid, Ari missing, and my bruises blooming, the morning had started nicely, and I was feeling pretty relaxed, considering.
Eight
We prowled the Gastown–Steam Clock district—a touristy section of Vancouver down on the waterfront. Katie loved the huge steam-powered grandfather clock, and I relaxed, watching all the people wandering around, laughing and having a good time.
My throat hurt, and I was stiff all over, but I didn’t want to be a wet blanket on Katie’s birthday. It’s not everyday you turn twenty-five—quarter of a century. I remembered it like it was yesterday. I’d be twenty-seven soon and I felt damn old.
The shops were cool. I loved the one that sold Persian rugs, and Katie almost tried on a kilt. She decided that being descended from some French guy shouldn’t be cause not to wear a tartan. The price decided it in the end. She just couldn’t justify spending that kind of coin on a wool skirt. I picked up a cell phone charger from a little kiosk near the steam clock.
We wandered west and stopped at the train station to check out this really cool statue of an angel reaching toward heaven with one arm. A dead soldier draped over her other arm, face upward toward
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