Page 46
Story: The Mirror
She let out a moan. “Don’t stop.”
“Couldn’t.”
Her fingers wanted to tremble as she tugged at his belt. Now, it had to be now, or the need would tear her to pieces, a wild animal of greed.
When she freed him, took him, hard and ready, in her hand, she felt him pull at her briefs.
“Tear them. God! Just tear them. I have more.”
When she heard the thin fabric rip, she let out a laughing gasp. “Now! Right now!”
He lifted her so her back slid up against the door. Her fingers dug into his shoulders.
Then their eyes met, and they held. And something new wrapped around that raw need. Just as strong, just as urgent.
Looking into his eyes, feeling the strength of his hands, the heat of his body, she said, “Yes.” Then again, “Yes.”
He slid inside her, slowly, a deliberate torment for them both. With every inch, her body shuddered, and it rejoiced.
When he was sheathed deep, their eyes remained locked.
He watched her, watched her as he saw pleasure swamp those green eyes, as the heat they brought each other flushed her skin, and slicked it.
Their bodies slid together, and slapped together, until she gasped with every beat.
He watched her fly. Even as her legs wrapped around him, as he took her weight, she flew. Just as she went limp, he flew after.
Chapter Seven
Though she felt so used up, so loose, so sated she thought she could sleep through an alien invasion, Sonya pulled on a T-shirt and sleep shorts.
“If I walk,” she told Trey, “I don’t want to walk naked. That’s just weird on top of weird.”
“You look good naked.”
“I’ll take that compliment, and still.” In bed, she snuggled up against him. “You look good naked, too.”
“And still, I’ll pull on pants if you walk. I’ll be with you.”
“I know.”
With a hand over his heart, she slid straight into sleep.
At three, with the chime of the clock, the drift of piano music, she stirred. And she sighed.
Even before she turned from him, Trey knew she’d walk. He grabbed his pants from the foot of the bed, yanked them on as she got out of bed and started for the door.
“I’m coming,” she murmured.
As he followed her, the dogs woke.
“Quiet,” he told both of them. “Stay quiet.”
They trailed behind him out of the doorway, and down it, he saw Cleo step out of her door.
“It felt like I should get up,” she whispered. “I really wish Owen had come back with us.”
When Sonya passed her, Cleo fell into step with Trey.
“Couldn’t.”
Her fingers wanted to tremble as she tugged at his belt. Now, it had to be now, or the need would tear her to pieces, a wild animal of greed.
When she freed him, took him, hard and ready, in her hand, she felt him pull at her briefs.
“Tear them. God! Just tear them. I have more.”
When she heard the thin fabric rip, she let out a laughing gasp. “Now! Right now!”
He lifted her so her back slid up against the door. Her fingers dug into his shoulders.
Then their eyes met, and they held. And something new wrapped around that raw need. Just as strong, just as urgent.
Looking into his eyes, feeling the strength of his hands, the heat of his body, she said, “Yes.” Then again, “Yes.”
He slid inside her, slowly, a deliberate torment for them both. With every inch, her body shuddered, and it rejoiced.
When he was sheathed deep, their eyes remained locked.
He watched her, watched her as he saw pleasure swamp those green eyes, as the heat they brought each other flushed her skin, and slicked it.
Their bodies slid together, and slapped together, until she gasped with every beat.
He watched her fly. Even as her legs wrapped around him, as he took her weight, she flew. Just as she went limp, he flew after.
Chapter Seven
Though she felt so used up, so loose, so sated she thought she could sleep through an alien invasion, Sonya pulled on a T-shirt and sleep shorts.
“If I walk,” she told Trey, “I don’t want to walk naked. That’s just weird on top of weird.”
“You look good naked.”
“I’ll take that compliment, and still.” In bed, she snuggled up against him. “You look good naked, too.”
“And still, I’ll pull on pants if you walk. I’ll be with you.”
“I know.”
With a hand over his heart, she slid straight into sleep.
At three, with the chime of the clock, the drift of piano music, she stirred. And she sighed.
Even before she turned from him, Trey knew she’d walk. He grabbed his pants from the foot of the bed, yanked them on as she got out of bed and started for the door.
“I’m coming,” she murmured.
As he followed her, the dogs woke.
“Quiet,” he told both of them. “Stay quiet.”
They trailed behind him out of the doorway, and down it, he saw Cleo step out of her door.
“It felt like I should get up,” she whispered. “I really wish Owen had come back with us.”
When Sonya passed her, Cleo fell into step with Trey.
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