DEAD IN BED By Bailey Simms: The Complete Second Book

PART 14, SECTION 4

I promised Ian that I would be careful on the motorcycle.

We decided to split up to cover more ground. Every day, I'd pick a new neighborhood and roam the streets on my motorcycle, constantly looking for any sign of human life. Meanwhile, Ian would drive around in the car doing the same thing in another part of the city. Month after month, though, neither of us saw a single human being besides one another. Sometimes, before the sun set, we'd meet at the pier and we'd fish, supplementing our diet with fresh crab and salmon. Other times, I'd drive up the coastal highway, the only person on the road, and race alongside the sea.

I was happy. Happier than I'd ever been, even before the plague.

When I came home, Ian was lighting a fire in the wood stove. The fall was drawing to a close, and the evenings were getting chilly. The very last of the setting sun's auburn rays were lighting up the cottage's windows.

"I missed you," Ian said, shaking out the match.

The flames he'd lit crept through the kindling.

"Missed you, too," I said.

Without another word, Ian stood and picked me up in his arms. He kissed me gently. He lay me on the bed.

We'd been making love every evening we'd been at the cottage, and every single time, so far, it had been just like it was the very first time when we first made love on the bluff above the dwellings.

I fumbled to unbutton my jeans, then hooked my thumbs inside the waist and shoved them down, underwear and all, all at once. I lay exposed to the November air, cool and laced with the wood stove's growing heat. A glistening tingle rose between my legs. There was something about being naked in front of Ian that made us both feel vulnerable. Whenever I took off my clothes I crossed a boundary that had been unsurpassable for years; and this still turned me on, inexplicably. I tore the rest of my clothes off. 

Ian ran his lips down my neck, across one nipple, over my belly button, and planted his mouth between my legs. The very moment his tongue touched me I came. A wave passed over my body as if I'd fallen into a depthless pool of warm water, electrified by some unseen lightning storm.

That's the thing about TGV. It's something that Ian and I discovered, together, to our unspeakable delight. Once you're turned on, you can come at the slightest touch. And a moment later, you never know exactly when, you may come again. And again. Me or him. Every time the sensation is so overwhelming that, for a moment, you feel a little afraid that you might expire, and then you rush back to the world.

Ian climbed back up toward me and pulled me down to him all at once, the muscles on his shoulders and arms working as gracefully as if he were swimming. We slipped off the bed, tangled in the bedspread and bunched sheets, and fell together onto the floor by the wood stove.

As he kissed me, suddenly, very softly, he slid inside me.

There was a moment of soft, startling pain, which then faded away to the blissful understanding that Ian, the person I'd always loved, the person who'd always loved me, was physically within me.

Then he pushed all the way in without stopping. And once again I was lost to an electric universe that swept me away and swept me back like a crashing wave. 

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