And here she was, thinking about that bastard—again.
It was time to stop. Now. Forever.
Uma shifted, squeezed her inner muscles, and Ivan moaned, tightening his hold on her.
“Good,” she said.
I want to feel everything. To be here. With this man.
She didn’t have to see his face properly to know the look he’d have: a little surprised, a little excited. He liked her in charge, enjoyed giving her power. And the thing was, it only made him seem stronger.
When she leaned back, he gasped, and the sound of it—the helpless, needy, uncontrolled sound—made her feel like a fuckinggoddess. Like she’d wrested control from him and taken exactly what she wanted, andoh Lord, that was good.
She licked her finger and reached down to touch herself, the circling of her clit her only outward movement. But everything was so tightly clamped around him that she wondered how she’d last. This was… It was…
Uma had never quite believed her mother’s claims about the tantric powers of sex. The notion that fucking was somehow a spiritual experience. She’d always thought it was another hippy excuse to run around and hump like bunnies.
But this—him pulsing inside of her and her body contracted in orgasm, pulling him in—this was more than just for procreation or even fun. This was something else entirely. Like reaching new heights of understanding or making magic. Touching those stars so far above them. As if this was bigger than them, it was—
Ivan’s muttered “Jesus” told her that he felt it too.
She lay slumped on top of him after, staying that way as he softened. He reached down and held on to the condom while she pulled up and off him.
On her back, Uma opened her eyes as wide as they’d go and sighed, already mourning the loss of him inside her.
Air had never smelled so clean, night sounds so ethereal. The sky was absolutely majestic.
After he settled back in beside her and pulled the quilt over them, Uma sighed a second time and almost giggled, thinking of her mother in India, halfway around the world.
Sex outside in the cold autumn night. Yeah, Mom would be proud.
She snuggled into this beautiful man’s side and let the giggle bubble out.
There you go, Mom. Om fucking Shanti.
23
As always, Squeak woke Ive at the crack of dawn, and, as always, he’d get up right away to attend to her needs. Well, to hers and to the dozen other creatures who depended on him.
This morning, though, it was a lot harder. It may have been the four hours of sleep he’d gotten. Or maybe the woman sprawled across his body. Yeah, that was probably it.
He was covered by so much of her that he was hot. Crazy, considering he could see his breath. But, man, she felt good, even fully clothed, against him. He loved the weight of her, the warmth of her breath on his collarbone, and the tickle of her hair against his chin.
A quick glance at the clock showed it was just after five. Still mostly dark outside, but definitely time to get a move on. He wondered what time Ms. Lloyd expected Uma back at her place. If he hazarded a guess, he’d say probably around now. Not because the woman needed help at the butt crack of dawn, but to be a pain in the ass, as was her way.
At his dog’s insistent squeal, he slowly scooched out from under Uma, careful not to wake her. Better to move now, before the tail started thumping into overdrive and the whining turned to barks. Squeak had been obliged to pull him out of enough mornings-after to know exactly what it took to get Ive moving.
Boots first, then he grabbed his towel and soap and stumbled to the door to let her out. He pulled it closed behind him, knowing how much noise the animals would make while he fed them. He bent and filled the cat dishes with dry food, still buck naked and fuckingfreezing. Wet food was at night only, but you’d think the animals didn’t know that, the way they looked at him accusingly, bum-rushing his calves, always pissed at the hollow ping of kibble rather than the hiss of cans opening.
Into the woods for a long morning piss, then back to the hand pump beside the workshop for a quick wash. It was too damn cold to be naked out here. He could go up to the big house, like a normal person, but why waste the time?
Teeth chattering and skin puckered into a million tiny goose bumps, he walked back inside and moved to relight the fire. Only once the flames began eating away at the logs did he stand up, preparing to reward himself by returning to bed, when Uma made a sound. A low, unearthly kind of noise like he’d heard only once or twice in his life.
* * *
Joey was gouging Ivan’s eyes out, and it was a million times worse than anything Uma had experienced. She was blind and naked and freezing cold—
Oh God, Joey was there, above her, and she could almost feel the needle burning into her flesh. There was a hand, rough on her arm, and she shrieked. Frantic, turning, flopping like a fish. Another hand, and Joey’s hot breath had her yelling, keening.
