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He moved forcefully in and out of her as she wrapped her legs around him, wanting every inch of him as much as he wanted her, dying to have him. The wall felt cold and raw against her back as he pumped desperately in and out of her, as she held on to his neck, his shoulders, the sensations the only thing that mattered. He was
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relentless, merciless, his huge hands clutching her hips as he thrust with the strength of his whole body, mindless of any injury to his knees. And it was coming again, stronger than ever, before it had completely deserted her, the pulsing wave taking possession of her senses, her body responding in kind as he literally drove her up the wall, harder and faster until his roar mingled with the sound of her own delirious scream, and they both collapsed into a limp, satiated heap upon the floor.

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E P I L O G U E

They lay exhausted, spoon-style, upon his blanket before the fire, their eyes focused on the local newsman.

The house was flooded with light and the furnace blasted at full force. In the excitement following their sexual excitement, they had run through the house like lunatics, lighting every lamp, flicking every switch, squealing in delight at the sight of the vanilla-white sun gradually peering over the horizon.

Dawn. The first they had seen of it in nearly forty-eight hours.

Iris shifted her position slightly, making pseudo-pathetic whimpers. “Good God, man. I’ll be sore for a week.”

“Well, you won’t have a week to recover. I’ll give you a half-hour, tops. Then it’s on to Round Two of the competition.”

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She ran her hand along the arm that possessively encircled her waist. “I’ll win this time.”

“I’m counting on it.”

The temperature was rising with the sun, and the rough rushing of ice sledding from the roof had replaced the roll of thunder. The television had been turned down immediately after they’d learned that the rest of the world was alive and well—and seriously pissed off.

“…Police are considering charges against The Mercurial
Players, the local drama group that incited some small amount
of panic with their play, presented on the local community
channel. A spokesman for the group denies any ill-intent, and
claims it was simply a tribute to Orson Welles’ broadcast of

‘War of the Worlds’, their own updated version. This, in the midst
of one of the most devastating outbreaks of tornadoes in U.S. history,
alarmed some residents so much…”

“They oughtta give the kids a break,” Russell drawled lazily.

“Hell, how were they to know the power would go out at just the wrong time?”

“You’re right.” Iris rubbed the gauze-wrap on her foot absently along his battered leg. “No harm done, after all.”

The swarthy newsman shifted papers and smiled brightly, as if pleased to have an audience again.

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“…And on a somewhat bizarre note, police have taken
into custody a man, suffering from exposure and a broken
leg, found in a ditch near his abandoned automobile. He
claimed that he had barely escaped an alien invasion, and
had injured himself while trying to warn the rest of the
world. He has been admitted to Mercy Hospital for drug
testing and psychological evaluation…”

“That’s it!” Iris cried, propping herself up on one elbow. “That’s what we’ll name him.”

“What? Who? Name who?”

“The pup! I’ve got the perfect name. We’ll call him ‘Orson’. I think Mr. Welles would appreciate the irony of that.”

“Orson it is.” Russ slid a heated hand along the curve of her hip, and she felt him hardening behind her. “The mutt’s got huge feet. He’ll be quite an animal. A big dog like that really needs a lot of room, y’know.”

“It would be nice. But my little condo will have to do.”

“I was thinking.” He pulled her closer, and she wiggled provocatively against him, hiding her smile in the pillow of his arm.

“I was thinking you might consider staying here for a while. Give the beast a chance to adjust. And it’d be good for the business.”

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“The business, huh? Well, yup,” she replied. “S’pose it would.”

“And if that worked out okay, maybe we could make some kinda legal arrangement. You know, like landlord and tenant. But with perks.”

Iris lifted one slim, enigmatic eyebrow. “Was that supposed to be your idea of a proposal, Mr. Carr?”

“Dammit, you know I’m lousy with words,” he muttered, despair in his voice. “I suppose you want to hear all that stuff about love that lasts for always and happily ever after, but I don’t know how to—”

“How about a little betting game?”

His mouth widened into an appreciative smile as he possessively cupped one tingling breast. “What did you have in mind?”

Iris chuckled, lowering her voice to a sinful whisper. “If you can make me come within, say, the next five minutes, I’ll consider marrying you.”

She curled into him as he caressed her and murmured into her ear. “And if I lose?”

“If you lose, you’ll have to marry me.”

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“I do like bargaining with you, brat.” His eyes were bright as he sprang from the couch, grabbed her hand, and headed for the stairway. “I’ve been itching to get you on those cool satin sheets ever since I bought them. Fortunately, I’m pretty good with my hands. I should be able to cinch this.”

“Ummm…Russ…”

“No? Okay, okay, we can try something else.” He paused at the bottom of the steps, grinning wickedly. “How about Orson-style?”

“Russ. Wait.”

Noting the sober expression on her face, he stopped before the window at the base of the stairs, exasperated. “What?! Don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind already! We have a deal. I’ve got at least three minutes left! And you can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy the sex, or you don’t like being with me, or that—” His hand tightened around hers as a sudden fear gripped him. “You can’t tell me you don’t love me.”

She turned her face to his, softly stroking his cheek, her eyes glossy with tears. “You’re right. I can’t. That’s something I don’t think I could ever deny. If I haven’t said it, I think it’s because I—I’m actually taking it for granted. It would be like saying, ‘I breathe’.

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Dear God, after all this denial! We don’t need the words, Russ. We never did.”

“Then what is it? Why the hesitation?” He kissed her lightly, dreamily. “You know I adore you. Even if I turned out to be the last man on earth, there’s only one woman I’d want. You, with your feisty attitude, your gorgeous legs, those beautiful, bottomless, honest eyes, and that wild imagination. I’d want only you.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt your feelings for me, Russell. I never will.

It’s just…just…”

“What? Come on,” he gently urged. “After all we’ve been through, you can tell me anything.”

“Well, it’s just that…Russell? Have you looked outside?” She pulled him over to face the window, pointing. “Russ, there’s a bright, funny light in the sky, and it’s hovering right over this house…”

E N D

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