sanity.
“Good. Good.” He shut his eyes, lost himself in the sensation. Before he knew it, before he really wanted it, he was there. “Oh God. Here I come. Here I come, sweetheart.”
The orgasm shook the entire length of his body, and he had to grasp her legs just to stay upright. He heard her saying his name, felt pleasure flood his cock, felt the waves of heat as he emptied on her belly. The spasms seemed to go on forever, then his whole body was glowing, floating, mind swimming, brain wiped blissfully clean. He let her legs go and lowered himself, bracing his weight on his elbows and plastering their chests and bellies together. All of this he remembered now—the smell of sex mixed with wood smoke, with dinner, with old leather and female breath. And this, tonight…this was all that and more. If Russ had to pick a moment to die, now was it. Instead he drifted closer to Earth, dropping gently back into reality as the high faded in time with the firelight.
As he came down, thoughts crept in. Vague questions swirled in his head, solidifying into worries. What did it say about Russ—what did it say about his marriage —that in the nearly six harmonious and affectionate years he’d been with Beth, he’d never felt anything half as potent as what he’d found in one night with the strange woman currently stroking his back? Was it Nicole, something about her? Something about him-and-her? He felt traitorous to even think it. Still, if his married life hadn’t ended the way it had, would he have gone the rest of his life never feeling this? Guilt buried itself like a knife his ribs, the pain of fearing what they’d just done had hurt Beth in its intensity…as if Russ had broken some unwritten law that said he was never allowed to get over the loss, never allowed to ask for or even to accidentally stumble onto more than he’d had with her.
Russ wasn’t a worrier, though, and now wasn’t the time to take it up. Besides, who knew how grandly tonight had been blown out of proportion, given the dramatic circumstances and the fact that it capped the better half of a decade’s dry spell.
He swallowed and pushed up onto his palms, looking down at the face he couldn’t yet call familiar.
Nicole smiled and said, “Thank you.”
He laughed. “Thank you.”
“I need more stew now.”
He returned the smile but didn’t move, not quite ready to get up and let her go…but he did a minute later, grudgingly. He grabbed his boxers from the floor and cleaned them both up, tossing his shorts in the hamper and pulling on a fresh pair. Nicole was dressing as he returned to the den, and he followed suit, feeling nervous as he zipped up, feeling prematurely sober. He added a couple more logs to the waning fire.
Nicole got herself half a bowl of stew and sat, her back against the arm of the couch, bare feet tucked under Russ’s thigh. The gesture let him relax again, and he put a hand on her skinny ankle, reaching for his beer with the other.
“This is really nice,” she said. “Fire, food, beer, sex.”
His cheeks warmed. “Yeah, it is.”
“You’ve got every luxury a hitchhiker could ask for.”
He thought he caught her gaze flash to his crotch but couldn’t be sure. “I hope you’ll stick around for a little bit. Not just until your side’s healed. For as long as it takes you to feel like you’re ready to move on.” Until you’re safe, if you’re not.
“Maybe. Thanks.”
Russ nodded, very suddenly overcome with desperation. He hadn’t even known this woman twenty-four hours ago, yet now he was dreading her departure. Funny how the promise of sex could bring an otherwise rational man to the edge of reason. He gave her ankle a squeeze, rubbed the little knob of bone with his thumb and marveled at how small and perfect her feet seemed after all this time spent in bachelor exile among the horses and cattle and dogs.
They spoke very little, watching the fire fade as the clock neared nine-thirty. Nicole
“Good. Good.” He shut his eyes, lost himself in the sensation. Before he knew it, before he really wanted it, he was there. “Oh God. Here I come. Here I come, sweetheart.”
The orgasm shook the entire length of his body, and he had to grasp her legs just to stay upright. He heard her saying his name, felt pleasure flood his cock, felt the waves of heat as he emptied on her belly. The spasms seemed to go on forever, then his whole body was glowing, floating, mind swimming, brain wiped blissfully clean. He let her legs go and lowered himself, bracing his weight on his elbows and plastering their chests and bellies together. All of this he remembered now—the smell of sex mixed with wood smoke, with dinner, with old leather and female breath. And this, tonight…this was all that and more. If Russ had to pick a moment to die, now was it. Instead he drifted closer to Earth, dropping gently back into reality as the high faded in time with the firelight.
As he came down, thoughts crept in. Vague questions swirled in his head, solidifying into worries. What did it say about Russ—what did it say about his marriage —that in the nearly six harmonious and affectionate years he’d been with Beth, he’d never felt anything half as potent as what he’d found in one night with the strange woman currently stroking his back? Was it Nicole, something about her? Something about him-and-her? He felt traitorous to even think it. Still, if his married life hadn’t ended the way it had, would he have gone the rest of his life never feeling this? Guilt buried itself like a knife his ribs, the pain of fearing what they’d just done had hurt Beth in its intensity…as if Russ had broken some unwritten law that said he was never allowed to get over the loss, never allowed to ask for or even to accidentally stumble onto more than he’d had with her.
Russ wasn’t a worrier, though, and now wasn’t the time to take it up. Besides, who knew how grandly tonight had been blown out of proportion, given the dramatic circumstances and the fact that it capped the better half of a decade’s dry spell.
He swallowed and pushed up onto his palms, looking down at the face he couldn’t yet call familiar.
Nicole smiled and said, “Thank you.”
He laughed. “Thank you.”
“I need more stew now.”
He returned the smile but didn’t move, not quite ready to get up and let her go…but he did a minute later, grudgingly. He grabbed his boxers from the floor and cleaned them both up, tossing his shorts in the hamper and pulling on a fresh pair. Nicole was dressing as he returned to the den, and he followed suit, feeling nervous as he zipped up, feeling prematurely sober. He added a couple more logs to the waning fire.
Nicole got herself half a bowl of stew and sat, her back against the arm of the couch, bare feet tucked under Russ’s thigh. The gesture let him relax again, and he put a hand on her skinny ankle, reaching for his beer with the other.
“This is really nice,” she said. “Fire, food, beer, sex.”
His cheeks warmed. “Yeah, it is.”
“You’ve got every luxury a hitchhiker could ask for.”
He thought he caught her gaze flash to his crotch but couldn’t be sure. “I hope you’ll stick around for a little bit. Not just until your side’s healed. For as long as it takes you to feel like you’re ready to move on.” Until you’re safe, if you’re not.
“Maybe. Thanks.”
Russ nodded, very suddenly overcome with desperation. He hadn’t even known this woman twenty-four hours ago, yet now he was dreading her departure. Funny how the promise of sex could bring an otherwise rational man to the edge of reason. He gave her ankle a squeeze, rubbed the little knob of bone with his thumb and marveled at how small and perfect her feet seemed after all this time spent in bachelor exile among the horses and cattle and dogs.
They spoke very little, watching the fire fade as the clock neared nine-thirty. Nicole
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