The Gift of Sky and Soil (Father Sky Book 1)

by Gillian Zane

  Miley was gone from the bed when my eyes opened. She had no covering for the windows in her bedroom, and the sun woke you as it crested the roof and said good morning in a very forceful way. I reached for where she should have been and found the bed cold. I had nothing in her house, even my clothes were outside. In her bathroom, I found some mouthwash, which would at least hold me over until I made it to my toothbrush.

  I found her in the kitchen wearing nothing but a silk robe which I noticed quickly was open in the front, revealing the deep plunge of her cleavage and the shaved swell of her pussy.

  “Coffee?” she asked and held up the carafe.

  “Miley,” I responded, not being able to look away from her body. “I can’t get enough of you.” I was hard as a rock, naked and exposed, and her eyes were on my dick which made things so much worse.

  “I know,” she laughed over the words, the silken robe falling from her body and exposing her tits to my hungry gaze.

  Crossing the room, I picked her up and placed her on the counter, my fingers slipping between her legs and finding her soaked. She fell back as I folded over her and ate her like she was breakfast on the counter. When my face was covered with her come from her explosive orgasm, I pulled away and used the kitchen sink to clean up.

  “Your turn,” she purred.

  “Not yet.” I held up a finger to stop her as she jumped off the counter. She pouted, and I couldn’t help but laugh as she reached for my dick and stroked it.

  “Fuck, Miley,” I groaned, forgetting what I had in mind to do.

  “That’s what I had in mind.” Both hands pulled and stroked my cock.

  “Haven’t you had your fill?”

  “No.” I turned her around roughly and pressed her down onto the small breakfast table. The noises that came out of her mouth were erotic, and when she cried my name when I plunged into her, I could have come right there. But I held off, holding back and forcing her to push her ass into me to speed up the pace. She liked it rough and hard, and I was beginning to really enjoy it as well. I slapped her ass, and she pushed back into me harder.

  “I’ve never met anyone like you. I’ve never fucked a woman like this.” My words came from my mouth unhindered. Insecurity washed over me, but Miley reached under her body and began to finger herself as she moaned, “Your dick feels so good inside me.”

  And that was it, that was all it took. I fell over the edge. Miley’s words were all it took. Miley was now my entire world. Men like me were so easy.

  29

  I walked into the garden naked as Eve and felt alive. Every part of my body felt on fire, my skin buzzed, my hair tingled, and I felt like I could jump ten feet into the air if I tried. When my feet touched the ground, the grass seemed to welcome me. Zeke walked ahead of me, his sleek figure tight and lethal as he strode across the yard to his little cottage, which he probably wasn’t going to be staying in from now on. I wasn’t letting him out of my sight or out of my bed.

  I was too busy staring at his ass to notice what was going on until he stopped short and a few exclamations popped out of his mouth. Looking around, I realized what had stopped him in his tracks. My garden. It was — well, there wasn’t a good way to describe it completely. It was massive, the growth off the charts. My orchard was fully mature, and the branches were laden with fruit. My cucumber vines had filled their lattices and reached to the sky. I blushed when I thought about what he had done with those vines last night and the fact that I wanted it to happen again.

  It didn’t stop there, though. The blueberry bushes were five feet tall and their branches were full of ripe fruit. Never in my life had I seen such an overnight expansion. Most of the fruit and veggies were bearing crops. I touched an eggplant, marveling at its size, probably a good 50% bigger than a normal sized eggplant.

  “Did we do this? Did you do this?”

  “We did this,” he answered, looking to the place where he had taken me for the first time last night. Something new grew there, and I went to the plant, not being able to identify it.

  Zeke placed his hand on my back as I bent over to look at the plant. The leaves were a deep purple, and it didn’t seem to be flowering or giving off any fruit.

  “Do you recognize this?” I asked Zeke.

  “Black cohosh, it’s a rare herb. Very rare. Women take it for hormonal issues.”

  “Um, trying to tell me something?”

  “That’s where I came last night,” he said so low I barely heard him.

  “That’s where you came?” I asked louder, standing and turning to him. “Shut up! So, your semen literally grows plants that can calm my period?” I laughed so long and loud my sides hurt while he stood there looking really insecure. I couldn’t help myself. When I finally settled, wiping at the tears that had formed in my eyes, I stood on my tip toes, braced myself on his chest, and kissed him. “We literally made veggies grow by fucking,” I whispered against his lips. “We could feed an army now.”

  “Why is that getting me hard?” He looked down at his cock, which was now rigid and standing out from the dark patch of hair between his legs. I couldn’t even remember the number of times we had sex last night, and then, of course, this morning, but I still wanted more. I wanted him. I had always enjoyed sex. Mostly, casual sex. I liked to cultivate friendships that led to sex, but not to relationships. I had always been rather fluid, as well, experimenting with men and women, but I mostly enjoyed men. When they started to take over my life, I usually walked away. I had a different way of doing things, which didn’t go over well with partners a lot of the time. Or at least, partners who wanted to settle down into relationships, get married and all that nonsense. I tended to dress provocatively, I was flirtatious on social media and in person if I had to admit it, I didn’t take advice that well, and even though I didn’t have a college degree, or an actual “normal” career, I could still survive and do what I wanted. Plus, I had an ego, while being insecure - weird mix. I knew I looked good and liked to use it to my advantage, but needed to be reassured and admired. It either sent my dates running, or it made them try to come in and “fix” things, when all I usually wanted was to have a good time.

  Which was one of the reasons I had tried to keep this thing between me and Zeke platonic. Zeke and I were stuck together. There was no questioning the significance of our relationship. We couldn’t leave each other’s side, at least for the foreseeable future. We had tried to separate and that didn’t work out that well for either of us. Adding sex into the equation just asked for trouble. Feelings, which I had to admit were already simmering, and words like relationship, and marriage, and monogamy did dances in my head as the hormones took over. I usually liked to drown out those kinds of hormones with lots and lots of sex. Sex that was probably fated to happen.

  “Your face got all serious and scowly.” He reached for my hand and tugged me close.

  “Deep thoughts.” I tapped my head.

  “What kind of deep thoughts?” I tugged away and turned my back to him, suddenly aware of my nudity. “C’mon, Miley.” His arms came around me, pressing himself to my back. My head said oh shit but my body welcomed him.

  “I’m not a relationship kind of girl, it’s not my thing,” I said and felt immediately stupid. What was that? Relationship kind of girl?

  “I couldn’t say I am that great at them either, before, well, I think we’re kind of past the courting stage.”

  “Who says courting?” I laughed; I couldn’t help it.

  “What else do you call it, dating? Sure, we didn’t meet on Tinder, or in a bar, but here we are, and it looks like we can’t really get away from each other.”

  “Yeah, that’s the issue, what if—?” I didn’t finish because I didn’t know how to voice it. What if he decided he didn’t want me anymore? What if he didn’t think he liked me the way I was, so we began to fight as he tried to change me? What if I didn’t like him as I got to know him? I really didn’t know him that well. I didn’t even know his parents’ nam
es, but here I stood with him naked in my garden, and I had gleefully thought about him moving into my home not a few moments ago.

  “What if you get to know me and you don’t like me?” His voice was serious and filled with emotion. Oh damn. I had screwed this up. I turned in his arms.

  “No, what if you get to know me and don’t like me?”

  “Impossible,” he said and kissed the end of my nose.

  “I’ll put that statement to the test, trust me, I can be an asshole. Insecure, but I have a terrible ego. And oh man, I am really flirty. It might piss you off. You have no idea who I am,” I felt my will to resist him start to melt away.

  “Impossible, Miley. Because, sure, I might not know your backstory, or who you voted for in the last election.” I scowled, and he kissed my lips. “But from what I’ve seen, you are an amazing woman, strong, smart, fearless, and undeniably sexy as fuck.” His hands slipped down to my ass and squeezed, and his dick hadn’t retreated in the least. “I think as I find out more about you, the only thing that is going to scare me is the fact that I’m in no way in your league.” My mouth opened in protest. If anything, it was the opposite, but he kissed away my words.

  “You’re definitely in my league,” I whispered against his neck as he held me in the garden that was overflowing from our power. Our power. That little word, our, scared the shit out of me, but at this point, I was willing to let it ride.

  30

  To be out in the world, to truly be within a public space, a crowd, or a large group of people, was a bizarre feeling for me. Well, it had been for the last five years or so. I hadn’t been in the midst of a large crowd since I was in my late teens. It might have been a wedding, or more likely, a funeral. Then, for the last couple of years, definitely after the Bird Flu, I had been limiting my exposure to public spaces and possible large groups of people. Hardly stepping out of the comfort of my apartment or lab, only when necessary, only when it was essential. It hadn’t been hard either. When I would venture out, guilt would set in for possibly spreading the virus, flu, or allergen, whatever it was at the time, fear for maybe catching it and then dying. The fear led to anxiety, and suddenly going out of my safe spaces was not fun anymore. So, you stay in. You order your groceries online; you get delivery or takeout. You go from everything available and open to, slowly receding until you never leave your home, living in a perpetual state of anxiety.

  The world functions, yet it doesn’t. It was a slow descent into an apocalypse landscape that looked like nothing anyone had expected. Me, along with the majority of the population, expected the world to suddenly go BOOM and instant apocalypse landscape. The bomb to drop, the super volcano to erupt, the sun to go supernova, not this slow descent into madness. To still be able to go out into the world and buy a cell phone and a jar of peanut butter, but not be able to find Lysol wipes or Little Debbie snack cakes anywhere was surreal. Like you were halfway in, but not quite knowing where the chips would fall.

  We lived in our own dystopian landscape, yet could jump on the internet and still see what your friend from Oregon had for dinner, and the president was still tweeting, but death from an allergen lay just outside your door. The more you stayed inside and trolled social media, or binge watched a new or new to you show on a streaming channel, you forgot what was going on out there. You forgot that millions were dying slowly. But then you ventured out into the world, probably to buy groceries. And then it hits you. What the fuck is going on?

  The price of meat was usually the first in your face sign. The prices were ridiculous, almost ten times what they used to cost just last year. Certain veggies and fruit hadn’t been seen in a local grocery store for three years, and good luck with anything cheap and mass produced from out of the country. Things like clothes, umbrellas, and gaming systems hadn’t been seen in years. The cost of an umbrella was in the hundreds now, compared to before when you could pick up one for a few dollars at the drug store.

  It wasn’t just the price of things either. About half of the U.S. population was unemployed, which meant a lot of people were homeless. Camps had formed in large population centers, beginning in the parks and spreading to the nearby neighborhoods. What started as protests soon became tiny cities within cities. At first, they had a festival type feeling, with buskers and craftsman setting up booths to draw in the more fortunate with a little extra to spare, but now it was dismal. An area where crime was rampant, drug use was rising exponentially, and if the allergen took hold, would rip through there like a fire.

  The world was still working, but not quite like it was before all this started.

  Miley and I sat at an outdoor table at one of her favorite restaurants. This restaurant was innovative in that they had run intercoms to each of the tables where you could put your order in and they would call you when it was ready to be picked up from the counter specifically for in-house eating. It was innovative and how businesses were surviving. It was also, again surreal.

  It was also hot, but with the tents erected and fans blowing, it wasn’t quite so bad. I was only sweating from half of my body.

  “So, this is a date.” Miley tapped the table nervously. She was dressed to the nines, and this was the first time I had ever seen her with make-up. It was subtle but stunning, and paired with a sparkly top, a plunging neckline, and swishy skirt, I couldn’t look away.

  “Yup, this is what a date is,” I laughed, but it was a nervous laugh that made me self-conscious. I didn’t know why I was so nervous over this. This was Miley. I had spent every waking moment with her for the last couple of weeks.

  “I hope I get lucky later,” she laughed a little too loud. We had interacted so little with the outside world in the last couple of weeks it was nerve racking sitting here and having people possibly look at us, having them possibly interact with us.

  “Only if you pay for my meal,” I joked, but it wasn’t really a joke because she was most likely paying, since I was the broke scientist. I hadn’t even checked my bank account in a week, and I hadn’t gotten a paycheck at the last pay period. There were whispers that people were going down like flies in my company. We had to do something about this.

  “You’re so easy,” she laughed as the intercom announced our drinks were ready. I stood and went to the counter and picked up our drinks. I had ordered a beer, and Miley was drinking a red wine.

  When I turned around, there was a man leaning on the table I had just gotten up from as if he had waited until the moment I left to go over there. He was older, and the way he was looking down at Miley was irritating. I picked up my pace, my territorial instinct taking over.

  “Who’s this?” I didn’t acknowledge the man because he didn’t acknowledge me.

  “Paul. It would seem he follows me on Instagram.” I could tell she was uncomfortable, but it wasn’t that apparent. If I didn’t know her so well, wasn’t so attuned to watching her, I wouldn’t have picked up on the slight tightening in her forehead and around her lips.

  “Oh, a fan, that’s great.” I nodded tightly, looking to Miley to see how she wanted to handle this.

  “Well, thanks for letting me know, Paul, but if you don’t mind, I’m about to have dinner,” she said with a sweet smile. It was utterly fake, but you couldn’t tell unless you looked closely. I smiled at her, ignoring him.

  “I thought I might join you. I wanted to talk to you about—” He went to sit, but I blocked him by moving the chair and taking it myself.

  “I’m on a date, Paul. I would hope that you would understand and grant me and Zeke here a little privacy.” Miley’s smile was a little more strained now.

  “Date?” He looked at me and laughed, like he and his beer gut and receding hairline were a better choice.

  “Yup. So, if you wouldn’t mind.” She made a shooing motion with her hand.

  “Stuck-up bitch,” Paul said, slapping a hand on the table.

  “Keep your distance, sir.” My voice was a few octaves lower than usual. Things began to still in the air a
round us as my adrenaline spiked. My fight-or-flight instinct had adapted with my new abilities. My awareness stretched out around me, and Miley sat up straighter. She placed her hand on the table, palm up, and I took it. My awareness trickled out into the wooden table we sat at, the cotton shirt Paul was wearing, the weeds that pushed their way up between the gravel pavers.

  “You need to learn manners, Paul. You need to learn that a woman owes you nothing and that you are not a catch in the least. Your fancy house is mortgaged to the hilt, you lease your expensive car, and you’ve been taking Viagra for 3 years because you can’t guarantee a hard-on when you do score a date. You have to learn manners and humility if you want to have a chance with any female out there. Oh, and pay your child support and call your kids. You’re a dick, Paul,” Miley’s voice resonated with power as Paul stood blinking at her, a bit of drool pooling at the corner of his mouth.

  “Go now, Paul,” I said with force, agitating the cotton in his underwear and undershirt, I gave them a little push. He stumbled, his arms pinwheeling.

  Looking back at Miley, her eyes were on me, a slight smirk turning her lips up at the corner.

  “You were phenomenal. How did you know all that?”

  “I just did.” The smirk fell, and she looked kind of scared.

  “Phenomenal,” I repeated, coaxing a smile from her.

  31

  The date was going better than I expected. After Paul left and Zeke had wowed me with his Alpha Male territorial behavior, I was all but smitten. Not that I wasn’t already. Zeke had won me over already, and now that we were putting in the effort to get to know each other, my level of smitten was just going to get worse.