Kismet (17 page)

I let my thighs fall open as far as they can go, surrendering myself fully, giving myself over to him completely. And just as I do this, Kris clamps down on my clit, gently pulling the little nerve nexus between his teeth. I yowl and almost come off the bed, and would have clamped my thighs around Kris’s head if he hadn’t been holding my legs open. My climax pours out of me, making me weep in joy, and my body shakes in anticipation of what’s to come.

And then he’s moving up me, scraping his clothing against my tender skin. I move restlessly, urging him on, tugging impatiently at his shirt. He pushes back to undress, and I watch him through narrow eyes. I pant, salivating, as his shirt goes flying, followed by a slow striptease of his boots and pants.

When he’s gloriously naked, I reach for him, and he falls onto me. My poor bed rattles from the impact. I’m impatient, demanding.

“Fuck me,” I order.

He holds me down, taking my wrists in his hands and holding them above my head. He rises above me and poises his cock at my entrance, teasing, going in only so far and then pulling out. He does this several times until I scream in frustration, and then, finally, he pushes into me with a hard thrust, burying to the hilt.

We pause for a moment to adjust to the overwhelming sensation. He’s so large, and I feel so tiny. He trembles in my arms, alerting me that though he may seem in control, he’s feeling just as swept away as I am.

And then he starts thrusting, rough and hard, just the way I need. The way I like. I can’t hold back my moans, my screams, enjoying every pound he gives my neglected body.

The moment is too much for both of us. I can’t hold back, and I suspect he’s waiting for me, impatiently, so I give in to the climax that rides under my skin, yanking his head toward mine and enveloping his mouth in a searing kiss just as I explode. I come so hard my body begins to shake, which is all the encouragement he needs. With one final thrust into my body, he groans into my mouth, and I can feel his cock jerking in me.

He collapses onto me, sweaty, magnificent, and I hold him tightly. I need him so much.

* * *

“Kris, can I ask you a question? Um, about that woman.”

The room is completely dark. The various sounds of the night creatures chirp, and I can hear them through the open window. I lie on top of Kris and his feet hang off the end. We are naked, our bodies long since cooled off from our lovemaking.

I feel him tense beneath me. For a moment I’m not sure if he’s going to answer or not.

“What do you want to know about her?” he asks. His tone is bland, revealing none of his emotions.

“Did she ever…force you?”

His big body shudders. “If you mean was I ever inside her, then the answer is no,” he answers quietly. “But she forced me to do other things. Things I hated.”

And I knew that he’d never talk about it, he’d never spell it out in black-and-white, and truthfully I’m relieved. I don’t think I could stomach hearing all the things that bitch did to him.

“Did you ever tell your father?”

“No. I eventually grew too big for her. She was the type of person who liked only small boys, and once I got my growth spurt around twelve or thirteen, she didn’t want anything to do with me. My father was too far in a bottle to know anything.”

“I can’t believe no one helped you.”

“No one knew, Evie. You’re the first person I ever told.”

And I had to go and blab to Hyde. But I wouldn’t think about that right then. “What happened to her?”

“She moved away. I hope the virus got her. She was a parental figure, an authority figure, and she abused the trust I had in her.”

I push myself up from his chest to look down at him in surprise.

“It’s amazing what you pick up from the psychology books,” he tells me as he pushes me back down.

“Did you ever think I was like her? In the beginning, I mean.”

“You were pretty forceful,” he teases. “But no, Evie. I never thought you were remotely like her. I never wanted her touch, whereas you, I couldn’t get enough of you.”

“What happened to my stoic warrior?”

I can feel his smile on the top of my head. “I’ve been doing a lot of talking—to Hyde, to a counselor. I’d never done that before. It’s been…nice.”

“Nice? I didn’t know you knew that word, Kristian Seek. You’re ruining your whole bad-boy image, you know.”

“Brat.” He ruffles my hair. “I consider myself enhancing.”

“You enhance any more, and you won’t be able to fit.” I flex my hips.

“Mmm,” he says as he grabs my hips and pulls my lower body firmly into his growing hardness. “I dare say you can handle it. You’re a strong woman.”

All the happiness from a moment ago seeps out of me. A strong woman? No, I’m not. I always thought I was, but these past three months have taught me I need more than myself to rely on. Once, I thought I could handle everything. All the burdens of the world balanced evenly upon my shoulders. But I’m not Atlas. I broke and I crumbled when I stood alone.

“There’s a lot between us,” I finally say, easing myself up off of Kris and sitting next to him. “Sometimes I feel like Los Angeles was a dream, both terrible and wonderful. I wonder how I survived so much, found you, yet let it slip through my fingers.”

Kris picks up my hand and entwines our fingers together. “We’re here now.”

“So we are. And I don’t every want to lose you again.”

“Is that why you told Marek you’d join the 281?”

“Partly. Also because I still want to help people.” I take a deep breath. Okay, time to get the hard part out of the way. “Kris, about me and Hyde. I don’t know why I did what I did. When I think about that moment, I—”

“I know why,” he interrupts.

I blink and wait for him to elaborate.

“You said you dreamed of me and Hyde,” he continues. “Ever since we were young, so how could you possibly know which one of us was the one you’d love?”

“You make it sound so logical.”

“Logical maybe, but I was fucking furious when you told me. After I calmed down, I started to think rationally about it. I realized if you hadn’t…explored…with Hyde, then later on you might come to doubt your feelings for me.”

“You’ve certainly thought things through.”

“I’ve always lived better inside my head.”

I push him back down and bring my knees in on either side of his waist. I can feel his cock harden to life. “Why not live better inside of me?”

We didn’t talk again for a long time.

Chapter Fifteen

My dreams are full with laughter and warmth. By my side is Kris, and we walk hand in hand through the lush green of my home state. The image is so real that I awake with the smell of the rich deep earth in my nostrils and a smile on my lips. I am alone in the bed, so I rise and don a robe before searching him out.

My living room is empty, as is my bathroom. I use the stored water to wash, dressing in cutoff jean shorts and a tank top. I currently have my frizzy hair in a ponytail, but little broken strands curl around my face. I leave the cabin and pause outside to see if I can get a sense of where I should look. There are voices coming from where the gardens are located, so I head in that direction.

The morning is already drenched with humidity, and before I even walk ten feet, sweat is running down my neck to collect in my cleavage. The gardens are located not too far away from the settlement, in an area rich with the dregs of the bayou runoff. Storms cause the marshy lake outlets to swell, leaving behind the rich soil underneath. Vegetables love the nutrient-dense dirt and grow exceptionally large and plentiful.

I find Kris working side by side with the few habitants of Bonne Nuit, most of who happen to be my distant relatives. Daphne, my cousin once removed, and the only virus survivor from her branch of the family tree, stares at Kris like he’s a cool drink of water.

Shirt off, tan skin gleaming with sweat, he has a hoe and uses it like nobody’s business. I know what it’s like to till the dirt. The work is dirty, tiresome, menial, and backbreaking. To say I’m shocked is a misnomer. Astounded. Slack-jawed. A fly buzzes around me, reminding me to shut my mouth. I grab a filled canteen and head over to him, giving Daphne the finger as I walk by her.

Bitch better not a lay a hand on my man.

“What are you doing?” I ask Kris in a quiet voice as I approach.

He stops his work and leans against the top of the hoe to take a long drink from the canteen.

“I thought that was obvious,” Kris replies, waving a hand around.

“No, I mean why are you working?”

“I figure if I’m going to live here for a few weeks, then I need to pull my own weight.”

“A few weeks?”

“I figure it’s going to take me that long to talk you out of this stupid notion of joining the 281.”

The thunder rumbling over our heads drowns out my furious outrage. I look into the sky that is rapidly clouding over. The threat of rain hangs heavy in the air, typical of Louisiana summers. I always say if the day ends in
y
, a downpour is in the forecast.

“And what happens after you convince me that I’m better to stay here? You go back to fighting the good fight, leaving me to worry, wondering if I’ll get glimpses of you in my dreams? And what about us? You’ll just pop in whenever you happen to be passing by for a good fuck? I don’t think so!”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it!”

“Why are we arguing about this? You’re not my partner or my husband. You’re just my lover!”

That’s clearly the wrong thing to say. He pins me with a look so raw and wounded that my breath catches in my throat.

And then he drops his hoe and takes off, stomping in the opposite direction, taking a path into the heart of the thick foliage.

The first drop of rain hits, landing on my arm.

I sigh. “Shit.”

I turn and jog after Kris, ignoring the heated rain as it falls. In the South, the precipitation is never cool. It’s more like the sky gets so saturated that the moisture must come down. Instantly I’m soaked, but I push on through the Louisiana jungle.

“Wait!” I call after his retreating back. “Wait! Kris, stop!”

He pauses in a clearing, arms down, shoulders back, head up to the pouring sky. He looks as if he’s trying to cleanse himself. Memories, perhaps? But I know exactly when he senses me, because his body tenses; his hands clench in fists.

“I didn’t mean that,” I say.

“Yes you did. But you don’t seem to understand anything!” he shouts, turning and stomping toward me. He grabs my upper arms and yanks me flush against his body. “But how am I supposed to do my job if I’m constantly worried about what’s going to happen to you?”

“I could ask you the same question. Do you love me, Kris?” He stares at me, breathing heavily, and I can see the darkness in his eyes. I reach up and hold his face, smoothing them over his warm, wet skin. “Because that’s what love does. It makes us scared, but it gives us unlimited strength.”

“Evie, do you really want to travel on missions in the military?”

“I want to be wherever you are.”

He covers my hands with his own. “I’ve been offered a stationary position, acting as part of the policing force in Wyoming. It would be a…semipermanent position. I haven’t agreed yet. I wanted to wait until I saw you. Talked with you.”

“So you’d be like a cop?”

“Military police.”

“Is that what you want to do?”

“I want to be wherever you are,” Kris says, using my own words. “I’ve met my demons, and I want that life you talked about, Evie. So yes, I love you. When you almost died in the hospital, I was ready to lie down beside you and follow. I kept yelling at you not to leave me.”

I kiss him in a way that tingles down to my toes. It’s more than just a simple meeting of lips, it’s sin and raw power rolled into one punch. His tongue sweeps into my mouth and takes over, tasting me, savoring me. I can feel his hunger. I encourage it. I crave it.

I break the kiss long enough to bring my soaked shirt up and over my head. As soon as it’s gone, Kris resumes his kissing. Every nerve ending comes alive. Kris unsnaps my shorts and slides them down my hips and legs as he kisses his way from my mouth to my breasts. He latches on to one nipple, sucking hard.

He kneels in the damp grass, lifting one leg and then the other to help me take off my panties. His hands trace my muscles, sliding smoothly up my calves to my thighs. Gently he turns me around so that his face is to my ass, and he kneads my cheeks as his thumb sweeps between my crack to explore that territory. I can’t help but clench a little. But he’s careful, patient, and when he sweeps in with his tongue, the embarrassment fades away.

He licks from inside the top of my crack, down one cheek, to just where it meets my pussy. My juices have been running freely, mingling with rain, and I can feel his lips nibbling right at that spot. So sensitive, so heavenly. I can’t help but squirm, wanting more. But he simply denies me, retracing his route, all the way up. And then like a whirlpool, he starts circling my rosebud, around and around, until he hits the target area. He doesn’t slip his tongue inside, but instead runs the velvety roughness over it again and again, sensitizing it awake.

And then his fingers start pressing in, using my own juices to lube me up to prepare. In and out, maddeningly slow. One finger, then two. I try to escape, but there is nowhere to go. After he has three fingers in, he slides them somewhat in and out. At first it’s rough, but gradually the pain starts to fade to a burn. The burn then fades to…
Oh my fucking God.

He lavishes me with adoration, his fingers and hands sculpting my body. Warming it, warming me. I melt. I ache. I am a flame brought alive despite the deluge pouring upon us.

When my legs can no longer hold me up, I fall to the grass, oblivious of the mud and grime that flakes around our bodies. This is primitive, the call of nature in our blood. I am mindless of how Kris loses his clothing; all I am aware of is his big, hot body pressing against me.

The rain makes it impossible for me to lie flat, so Kris half drapes over me as I’m on my knees. He still uses his little finger to slip into my rosebud, but his thumb is able to rub my clit. Oh God, it feels amazing. I want more. I want it all.