Twenty-five
“Ummmm . .
.”
“Right.”
“Ah,
God.”
“Right.”
“I’m numb . . .
everywhere.”
“I warned you that
might happen.”
Edward groaned and
sat up. “Ow!”
“Careful.” She sat up
as well and tried to examine his head in the gloom. The sun had
been trying to set for the last hour.
“What the
hell?”
“You hit your head on
the desk.”
“What the
hell!”
“Sit still; I can’t
look at it if you keep wriggling.” She smelled sweat and semen and
musk, but no blood. Felt the top of his head. No swelling. “I think
you’re all right.”
“Tell that to my
concussion.”
“I was.”
They were beneath the
small rolltop desk in her living room. She had no idea how they’d
ended up there. They had begun in the kitchen and moved to the
floor beneath the plasma TV, and for a little while they were in
her tub . . . probably . . .
“I’m
hungry.”
“I’m not surprised. I
saw you gobbling down those cupcakes right before you jumped me in
the kitchen.”
“It’s called being a
good guest.”
“Oh, is that what
it’s called?”
“Did you bring me
food, or just lab results?”
“I brought Oreos,” he
said. Then, helpfully, “And milk, and a jar of peanut butter and
some sandwich bread.”
“Nectar of the gods!”
she exclaimed, and scrambled from beneath the desk.
A few minutes later,
they were lying on her bed, wolfing down peanut butter
sandwiches.
“You mean to tell
me,” he said thickly through peanut butter, “I could have brought
this sack for a first date and not dropped a ton of money on fresh
seafood?”
“I told you to let me
pay.”
“Because that’s just
weird, Rachael. That is Outer Limits
weird. You are a weird girl. Which is so hot, incidentally.”
“Thank you.” She
stared at the Oreo in his hand until he handed it over. “Thank
you!”
“I don’t think you’re
even chewing.” He was peering at her, grinning. “I think it all
just rockets into your gullet.”
“Does not. Shut up.”
She licked her fingers. “Still want to have a picnic on the
bluffs?”
“Now?” He glanced out
a window. “It’s almost dark.”
“Yes, I
know.”
“And you just ate all
the food I brought for our picnic.”
“Yes, I
know.”
“We won’t be able to
see much.”
Wrong. I see everything.
“I want to go
outside. Can’t we go outside now?”
“Sure, Rache. We’ll
go wherever you want. Don’t worry, I packed tons of bug
spray.”
Which is how they
ended up on the bluffs overlooking the St. Croix River at nine
thirty P.M. on a perfect August evening, reeking of N,N-Diethyl-meta-toluamide, also known as OFF! mosquito
repellant.
“Oh, my,” she said,
gazing around her.
“Yeah. I love it up
here.”
They were seated just
at the tree line, overlooking the river. They could see the city of
Stillwater below, the restaurants lit up, the streetlights glowing.
The river was a black trail beneath them, dotted with little blobs
of light from the various boats.
A slight breeze
brought dizzying scents to her: grass and trees and leaves and
life. Mating rabbits about thirty-five feet away. White-tail deer
cropping grass, sixty feet away.
“You
okay?”
“I am very much
okay.”
“Not too cold?” He’d
brought blankets and spread them out with some ceremony. He’d
brought more to wrap around her shoulders, though she would never
feel the cold as quickly as he did.
“No.”
“See
okay?”
A bald eagle cruising
in the dark. Field mice scurrying for the tree line. A she-possum
darting through dense underbrush with young clinging to her
back.
“I can see . .
.”
A pair of
red-shouldered hawks, competing for the same prey, diving toward
the cool blue water, only one emerging with a small bass. Their
dive startled a heron, and she flapped away. Another bass, much
bigger, jumped and arched and fell back into the river with a small
splash.
“. . .
everything.”
Oh, everything, she
could see everything, and had she ever been so drunk when it
wasn’t a full moon? It was two days
away, but in her blood, the moon was full and rising and coloring
everything she saw, everything she felt, and had it ever been like
this? Ever?
No.
“Feels like we’re the
only people up here. Not just here. Anywhere.”
It did. It did feel
like that. Although she felt obliged to warn him . . . “It’s an
illusion. There’s another couple, but they’re way down
there.”
“Really? Gah, I can’t
see that far.” Neither could she. But she could smell them. The
breeze was blowing exactly the right way. “You must have kick-ass
night vision.”
“Yes, that must be
it.” She reached out, not looking, and found his hand. Clutched it.
“Thank you. Thank you for bringing me here. For showing me this
place.”
“Are you kidding? I’d
take you anywhere, Rache. Anywhere you wanted to go.
Anytime.”
“Then take me now.”
She touched the back of his neck, pulled him forward, kissed him.
She bit his mouth, lightly, and then stroked the bite with her
tongue. His lust flared between them, sullen coals one second, a
raging forest fire the next. “Here.”
“I’ve mentioned how
completely awesome you are in every single way,
right?”
“Many
times.”
“Just making sure.
Never let it be said that I take any one thing about you for
granted in any way, ever.” He was tugging her shirt over her head,
yanking at her shorts. She was doing the same to him, while
reminding herself not to shred any items of clothing he would need
later. “Um . . . we’re not gonna have company, are
we?”
“They don’t know
we’re here. They’re not even looking this way.”
“Oh thank
God.”
“Wait . . . like
this.”
“Oh my
God.”
“And like
this.
“Oh my
God.”
“And . . . are you
all right?’
“Well, I’m probably
going to have a major cardiac event pretty soon. I’m pretty sure my
pulse has never been so high for so sustained a period, but I’m
okay with it. There are way worse ways to go than dying in your
arms.”
She giggled as she
turned him where she liked, as she went to her knees in front of
him, as she put her weight on her elbows. “You won’t die, Edward.
Probably.”
“Oh my God. Your ass
. . . it’s perfect! You have a perfect ass! How have I not noticed
this yet?” She could feel his fingers on her hips, grazing, then
grasping. “Oh, who the fuck cares?” Felt his fingers slip between
her thighs, find her slippery, dip for a bare moment. “Ummm . . .
oh God . . .” Felt him grip her hips, harder, felt that thick part
of him start to slide inside.
She met his thrust,
hard. His hips rocked back, then forward, hard. She clutched at the
blanket, reminded herself not to tear it, and met him thrust for
thrust. His groans were dark music to her, the way he sighed and
whispered things was a mystic language she had never before known
but now spoke fluently.
She didn’t know what
his favorite color was, or his worst childhood memory, or his
allergies (poor creatures . . . allergies !), or his favorite dessert. How could
she feel so complete with a man she barely knew? Because she felt
exactly that, and just as the dictionary defined it: complete.
Lacking nothing; whole. Entire.
“Edward.”
“Ummm?”
“I’m going to
come.”
“Oh
God.”
“Right
now.”
“Ahhhh! Jesus
Christ, I can actually feel your
muscles—aahhhh !”
Good thing I warned him.
He won’t really have a heart attack, will he? She
pondered CPR for non-Pack members while at the same time feeling
the world tilt as her orgasm bloomed like a black
flower.
They met each other
for a final thrust, and then he collapsed over her back. “I’m
dying,” he groaned. “Everything’s going dark. Farewell, cruel
world, which recently got really awesome.”
She giggled. “You
can’t see a thing; how can anything go
dark? You’re so odd, Edward.”
“Me? I’m odd?
Me? Who cares? Rachael, you can call me
anything you like, whenever you like, if we have more bluff sex
later.”
“Bluff sex.” She was
now laughing so hard she’d collapsed forward, losing a bit of
breath as the rest of his weight came down on her. “Bluff sex?” She
wriggled to poke him in the ribs. “Like all males, now that you’ve
climaxed you are incapable of romance.”
“I’m chock-full of
romance, you shrew. I’m so full of romance it’s leaking
everywhere.” He poked her back, then grabbed her and gave her a
rib-squeezing hug. “This is insane. You’re a hologram, I’ve told
you that theory, right? Or I’m pulling a 28
Days Later and am comatose somewhere while zombies race the
streets. Something this awesome simply is not happening in the real
world.”
“Now: whoever said
this was the real world?” If he knew of her world, he would believe it.
And for the first
time, she started seriously wondering when and how to discuss that
world with him. For the first time, that seemed like a natural
progression. And as she was an accountant just as much as a Pack
member, it seemed quite logical to her. One plus one equaled two.
Edward should be told about the Pack so he could make informed
decisions. Easy.
Sure.
So they snuggled on
their blanket and looked at the stars, thought very different
thoughts, and eventually dozed.