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“Aha! That’s the sound of all that stress being released. Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, you have no idea…”

“Russ?” She inched closer to him, resting her arms around his neck, and a fresh sheen of perspiration bloomed on his forehead. “Is it okay if I taste you?”

Without waiting for an answer, she tilted his head upward, slowly, tentatively kissing him, melding her mouth into his so softly
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and sweetly that he thought he’d gone to heaven without the preliminaries. He held onto the edge of the couch with a death-grip, to keep himself from grabbing her, from kissing her back too hard, too hastily, from ripping the clothes off her body, planting himself inside of her, and showing her what real tension would feel like.

“You don’t mind if I kiss you, do you? Lord knows I’ve learned it’s not a necessary part of having sex; but I like your mouth. When you smile, it reaches all the way up and crinkles the corners of your eyes.”

He managed a slight movement of his head. “If it’ll help you feel better about all this—no, I guess I don’t mind.”

She slipped her tongue into his mouth and he shivered, his knuckles locking. He closed his eyes to the sensation of her sucking lightly on his tongue as she tightened her hold around his neck and leaned into him. “You feel good, Russell Carr, and taste even better.

Funny I never noticed it before. All that wasted time.”

“I…um…”

“Don’t say a word. Just relax.”

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Her lips slipped over to his ear, nibbling lightly before delicately plunging her tongue inside. He lurched beneath her, and she chuckled in delight. “You like that. Good. Let’s get this going.”

Moving just enough to close his legs, she positioned herself astride him, her knees digging into the cushions. She nuzzled his throat, peppering it with small, sweet kisses before attaching herself to his neck and sucking vigorously. He moved his head to allow her access, his pulse responding wildly. Hell, if she’d suddenly sprouted fangs and began to drain him of blood, he wouldn’t have minded at that moment.

Slowly kissing her way down his chest, she lapped a teasing circle around each of his nipples, then kissed her way along the hairy path leading to his stomach. He gasped, sucking in his gut as she tongued his navel and went quickly to work on his belt.

She was far more aggressive than he’d imagined. No little girl, this. No need for kid gloves. Thank God, thank God. “Iris…Iris, are you sure about this?”

She had already unsnapped his jeans before pausing and smiling up at him. “Oh, I’m just real sure. You’re asking because you
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can feel my hands shaking, can’t you? And you’re worried about me being afraid. You are so sweet.”

“Well, I just want you to be sure. To be happy.”

“If my hands are shaking, it’s because I’m…well, a little eager.”

A thin crease formed between her eyebrows. “But I do want you to enjoy some of this too, Russ. Oh, wait—I know.”

Pulling away from him, she casually grasped the hem of the shirt he’d loaned her and slipped it over her head. His eyes immediately fastened on her exposed breasts, the tips hardening in the cool air of the room, a few tempting inches away from his mouth.

“I was being selfish.” She lightly cupped his crotch. “I forgot. The power of the visual turn-on. It was seeing you naked for the first time this morning that really made up my mind.” She smiled, pleased with his conspicuous reaction. “And this seems to have done the trick.”

His heart was tripping so loudly it nearly drowned out the sound of the thunder in his ears. Never, ever before had he been so excited, so hungry to have anyone. He could not take his gaze off her breasts, full and round before him, begging to be touched, to be tasted.

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And he was, for the first time in his life, totally unsure of himself. Should he intervene and become a partner in his own seduction? Should he wait, keep himself restrained, and continue praying that she would ask him to touch her? What if he did something to betray his own hunger, something to turn her off, something—

“Do you like them?”

“What?”

“Do you like my breasts?”

He was feeling woozy, as if it was all some sort of drug-induced dream. “I…they…you are…well, yes. Actually, they are kinda nice.”

“I like the way they feel right now,” she whispered huskily. “I like exposing myself to you like this. I like the way you’re looking at them. It feels like a slow flame burning through, starting at the tips and searing inside, all the way down between my legs.”

He should get either the Purple Heart or the Oscar for this performance. But he couldn’t stand much more. Her nipples danced before him, knuckle-large, making his mouth water. And when she inched forward, her heat settling on his hardness, he nearly hyperventilated.

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Iris quickly unzipped his pants and carefully slid her hand inside as Russ’ head fell back against the top of the couch, his jaw clenched in stifled agony. “Feels pretty crowded in there, Russ,” she murmured playfully. “What say we get to it? After all, we may not have much time.”

He could not speak, could not manage a word as she dismounted and yanked both his jeans and underpants down, tossing them carelessly aside. A blast of cold air skimmed his skin as he sat up and found her staring at him. Hungrily. Naked before her now, as he’d often fantasized being, he was surprised to find himself feeling shy. And when she made no move toward him, he self-consciously crossed his arms over his insistent erection.

“Now, now, Russ—you can’t run, you can’t hide,” she teased.

“I’m not hiding! I just…well, maybe I’m just not so sure I want to do this now,” he sniffed defensively.

She gave him a half-grin, her eyes locked on his lap. “That’s not what I’m seeing. And that’s quite an impressive weapon you’ve got there.” In an instant she had unsnapped her own trousers and stepped out of them. “I can’t wait.”

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He watched, dazed, as she removed her lace panties and teasingly twirled them around her finger before slinging them across the room. She was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. Her body was a series of long, lean lines, slinky and sensual, from her firm hips to her pert, rounded breasts. Every ounce of his blood pumped frantically to his groin at the sight of her, demanding satisfaction.

If he knew that he would, indeed, die tomorrow, he could still never find the words to describe her, or the way she made him feel right now.

But if his indecisiveness had led to this, it was worth it. This moment was worth everything.

She leaned into him, her fingertips tickling the nape of his neck, nipples puckering in anticipation. “Russ? Would you mind…” She paused, biting her lip. “Would you mind touching my tits? I’ve always loved watching you work with your hands.”

He needed no further prompting. His mouth went dry as he cupped them immediately, watched them form to his hands, the nipples pouting for attention. Smooth, supple, and honey-soft. He knew they would be.

They’d been meant for him all along.

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His hands began to squeeze, ever so lightly, as she thrummed deep in her throat in response.

“That’s nice.” And then she was straddling him again, running a teasing finger along his length as he felt it expand into aching, iron insistence. “There now—that isn’t so bad, is it?”

“Well…no…” He was losing his mind…

“So, what do you think, partner?” She cooed wickedly into his ear. “Can I persuade you to take a stab at it?”

If she only knew. His heated head was trembling hungrily, weeping for the soft mound of her pubis. She was ready for him. He could feel how hot she was, how moist; and he had not needed to lift a finger. Eyes ovaled in disbelief, he held his breath to keep from exploding as she slowly, wrapped a coaxing hand around him. “Yes.

Oh, god, Iris, yes…”

Lights. He was so turned on, so eager that he’d forgotten to breathe. The lack of air was causing him to see sparks, little bursts of white as he waited to feel her envelope him…

“Russ!”

Her hold on him abruptly loosened, and he jumped at the tone of her voice.

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“Russ, the lights! The lights are blinking back on!”

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C H A P T E R 5

Iris pushed hard against his chest, launching her body away from him. “Russ! The power! It’s coming back on!”

He quickly rolled to his feet, his brain clicking into gear. The lights were flickering, as if gasping for air, and there might be no time to lose. “The television!”

She was running frantically around the room, oblivious to the fact that they were both still naked. “The remote! Oh, God, oh God, where is it?”

“Damn the remote!” He leaped over the top of the couch, fell to one knee, and stumbled toward the set. “Hit the switch!”

The house hummed to life for a brief, bright moment. The lights blazed like small, second suns to eyes now accustomed to the shadows, and the old furnace in the basement chugged slowly into operation. Even the sound of the refrigerator could be heard between
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the grumbling blasts of thunder, buzzing noisily as if to make up for lost time.

Russ scrambled across the floor, stretching, reaching for all he was worth for the power button that would turn the television on. It was a thin, metal rectangle at the bottom left of the large set, situated right next to the two for volume, two for color, and one for switching antennas. He landed on his stomach, arm extended, his fingertip touching cold steel.

But he managed to push a button. And another. And another.

He seemed to be making contact with all of them, except the one he wanted.

“That’s it!” The switch moved beneath his finger, and the implosive noise of the television coming on rewarded him. “That’s it.

I’ve got it!”

A small diamond of white light pulsed in the center of the set and slowly began a diffused spread across the dark screen.

Russell held his breath once again. They had to know, had to find out for sure what the hell was going on. “C’mon, baby, c’mon,”

he muttered. “Give.”

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The lights around them blinked, sizzled, and died once again with a queer, sobbing sound.

“Shit!”

He pummeled the floor with his fist, cursing furiously, then lay prostrate against the cold, hard planks.

It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. Either he should be listening to the news right now, or getting the lay of his life. He was getting screwed in every other way imaginable.

With a frustrated twist of his body, he sat cross-legged on the floor and glanced in dismay at his loins.

Gone. The mood. The delicious anticipation. The chance to feed his voracious hunger for her. The lights. And the biggest, hottest hard-on he’d ever had in his life. Gone. All gone.

Maybe God was feminine after all.

“Iris?”

He turned to find her jamming her legs into her trousers. She didn’t even bother with her undies. Shimmying into his oversized shirt, Iris began to search the room without uttering a word.

Russ scooped her panties up from the floor, allowing them to dangle from the tip of his finger. “Unless there really is a New World
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Order,” he said quietly, “these should probably be worn underneath your pants.”

She dropped to her knees, peering beneath the couch. “That’s not what I’m looking for.”

“Then would you mind telling me what you are doing?”

“We have been so wrong. No, no; I’ve been wrong.” There was a slight quaver in her voice, just enough to make his heart muscles tighten. “We should’ve been ready, should’ve been sitting there with our fingers on the buttons, should have made sure the TV and radio were in the ‘on’ position. Our whole world could be going to hell in a handbasket, and I waste time insisting that we play this--this silly game.”

He had to be careful. She was just a nudge away from hysteria.

“Actually, I was beginning to enjoy the ‘game’. Just a little.”

“You don’t have to be nice about it. I was being short-sighted and selfish. I should’ve obeyed my first instinct.”

“And that was…?”

“To haul my butt into town and find out what’s really going on.

Have you seen my shoes?”

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Russ casually reclined on his left side, resting on his elbow—just enough to hide the discarded shoes from sight. “Iris. My nearest neighbor is nearly three miles away. Corinth is a good eight. You’ll never make it in this weather.”

“Wanna bet?”

He didn’t dare. Iris was a competitor. She’d take him up on it, just to prove that she could do it. “Iris—”

A glassy reflection of the fire ran in a red stream down her wet cheeks. “Thomas is miles and miles away in Fort Campbell, Kentucky. He’s my only brother, and he just got promoted to Corporal, and his girlfriend is pregnant. They’re planning to get married in a couple of months or so, and raise their children to be healthy and happy. My mother just moved to Florida, Russ. You know how hard she worked her whole life at that damn post office.

She deserves a lot of retirement time to make up for it. She’s been struggling alone for so many years now, and I can’t bear the thought that she might need me, and I can’t be there for her. I need to know what’s going on. And I don’t want to wait two days or weeks or whatever to find out. Now, where did I put—”