by Nya Rawlyns
She ground her hips, giving in to the beat, letting herself finally relax until the music ceased and she reluctantly eased from his arms. He murmured, "No," and she thrilled to his voice, the accent guttural, almost harsh as his voice poured out his passion and need.
It had been so long since she'd touched him. He was not a man who enjoyed cuddling or teasing with long slow kisses but tonight she would risk his discomfiture for she needed to taste and touch, to bring light back into the tomb she'd built for her heart. She unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off his shoulders and stood back to admire the taut muscles and six-pack abs.
"Working out, are you?" He blushed and she could swear he sucked his gut in, not that he needed to. She let him slip her fleece top over her head, fervently wishing she could shift into the Xena form with her boobs and hips, but tonight he would have to be satisfied with her very modest gifts. She liked the way his eyes glazed over as he contemplated her breasts, the cool air in the cabin hardening the nipples and sending a shiver down her spine.
"If you're cold," he said with a worried frown, "we could use the hot tub, if you like."
She reached up, nipping at his chin, and skipped down the long hallway leading to his office and workout rooms, and the small alcove sheltering the four-person hot tub. He followed, shedding his clothes along the way. By the time he made it to the end of the hall, she was already easing into the froth. She turned in time to watch him approach and was taken once more with the sheer size of the man. Barrel-chested and narrow-hipped with thick muscular thighs, the veins standing out prominently along his biceps, he was the epitome of fit. She'd been so self-absorbed the last few months that she hadn't noticed he'd let his hair grow until it was long enough to gather in a short ponytail.
As he settled onto the seat, she pulled the band off his hair, freeing it to fall in light brown strands around his rugged face. Worry and care had etched lines in a face she remembered as youthful and naïve. He would wear age well though she would not live long enough to see it. She had to put that thought away for another day, that awareness that this creature was not fully human and existed in a space and time she knew intimately but could never share.
He stretched his arms along the edge of the tub and watched with hooded eyes as she straddled his lap, moving her hips seductively while she traced a path around his nipples with her fingernails, pinching and flicking until he mouthed, "Caitlin," and arched to rub against her folds. She had no idea if he'd been with a woman while she'd gone through her enforced celibacy but the pleading in his eyes suggested he might not have, nor was he in a mood for prolonged foreplay.
Wolf gripped the edge of the fiberglass liner with so much force he feared he might crack it. The feel of her, flesh to flesh, was almost more than he could bear. It would take very little for him to come but he wanted her to take the lead this time, to set the boundaries so that she would realize he would never knowingly entrap her. When she finally eased onto him, he breathed a sigh of satisfaction as she rode him slow and steady. He shut his eyes against the tears as the link set him on fire and drove the words that would damn and free him on a soft exhale of I love you.
Revenge stirred fitfully as the small spasms chased anxiety and she took the first steps in reclaiming her life. He would never be hers again, they would never share the moonrises and ravages of an insane world, and she would keep her terrible secrets, though she had no obligation. But it suited to know there was another like her, existing just on the edge of reality. In the meantime she would give Wolf as many pieces of herself that she could spare, knowing however sparse the offering, he would accept it gratefully.
She whispered, "Let's go to bed," and smiled as he leaned forward to ravage her mouth.
****
Wolf flipped the phone shut, certain he'd made the right decision. He'd parked at the turn-off to his lane, windows open, baking in the ninety-eight degree oven the cab of the old Ford had become. Damn, it might be time to retire the old bucket of bolts. He scanned the area carefully but saw no new tracks on his lane. Things had been quiet lately, maybe too quiet. They were waiting. For what he hadn't a clue. He drove up the lane deep in thought.
Entering the kitchen through the mudroom, he spied Caitlin near the wood stove, staring intently at the floor. Her belly protruded so much he wasn't sure what she could actually see. He came around the table, wondering, and slipped on a wet spot covering the pine floor. Caitlin clutched her belly, moaning.
Oh fuck, oh sweet Freyja, her water broke. Oh gods, not now. Not yet. He wasn't ready.
Wolf grabbed her, more to hold himself upright than to help her. He felt himself slip into blind panic, almost like the first time he'd led his cohort into battle on his home world. "Do you want to sit? No? Okay, let me grab the bag. I'll get us to Lander. Just wait there."
Wolf grabbed the small suitcase sitting by the kitchen door, packed, ready to go. He knew he ought to call the mid-wife, but he decided he wanted her in a real hospital, with real doctors. He had to make some calls.
He heard her strangled cry, "Wolf? We don't have time for that. The contractions are maybe two minutes apart. Might be less." She bent forward and moaned.
"Breathe. In, out, that's right. Don't push. Don't push!" She gave him an evil look. "Bed. Let's get you to the bed." He wrapped her from behind and propelled her carefully down the hall. Stripping the bed, he laid out several towels and eased her down, her legs extended over the side. He packed the pillows behind her neck and upper back. "Scootch back a little. I need to get your knees up. Yeah, that's good." He grabbed a knife off his belt and cut away her panties and thought he'd pass out.
Gods, not now. Just a little longer.
"Where are you going? Don't leave me!" she screamed at his back.
"Boil water. Scissors. Be back." Wolf raced to the kitchen, grabbed clean kitchen towels and started a large pot of water to boil. He laid the surgical sheers next to the stove. The light rap at the door startled him.
"Wolf ... goddammit, where are you?" Her scream ended on a sob.
Wolf ran to the door, yanking it open. "Oh, you're here. Come in. She's coming. The baby. This way."
He grabbed the man and physically hauled him into the bedroom. Caitlin lay panting, sweat cascading off her brow, hair plastered to her face. Her eyes were scrunched shut as she gasped through the next contraction.
Wolf frantically looked at the Minister. "Say the words."
The Minister looked taken aback but opened his book, considering which page to consult. Caitlin screeched an epithet. The man colored slightly, deciding perhaps haste might be best. He began the ceremony, unheard over labored breathing.
"Say it, Honey. Please, for me and our daughter. Don't push. Not yet. Say it!"
"All right! I. Fucking. Do."
"Me too." He glared at the Minister. "Finish it."
Grinning, the cleric said, "I now pronounce you husband and wife. Can I call for some help, son?"
"No, we've got it. Thanks. You better go." The Minister nodded once, and beat a hasty retreat. Wolf heard the door close and a car engine start up. He ran to grab the scissors, string, and the pot and towels.
"Okay, baby, now you can push." On a long keening wail, Caitlin tucked her chin and pushed with all her might. "I see the head. Once more. That's my girl. Oh gods, honey, once more." The baby slid into his hands.
Wolf could barely move he was shaking so badly. He cradled the infant in his huge hands, turning it over and patting its back until he heard the first startled yelp, then laid it gently on Caitlin's belly. He cut the cord, tying it off. Tenderly he cleaned the baby, as he watched for the afterbirth.
Caitlin continued to pant as she stared in wonder at the beautiful sight perched on her belly. Sable brown hair on a perfect tiny head. She started to cry. "Oh, God. She's beautiful."
"Hon? I've got some good news and some bad news." Caitlin stared at him, panic in her eyes. "The bad news is that it's not a girl. The good news is that we have a son. I've got a
son."
Wolf picked up his son, wrapped him in a blanket, and lay next to Caitlin, cradling the infant between them. He gazed at his family, tears in his eyes. "What shall we call him?"
"I guess Natalie isn't going to work." She smiled, thinking. "I want you to name him." She reached to stroke Wolf's cheek, brushing the tears away, her husband's tears.
He gripped her hand tightly. "I love you, Shield Maiden." As he handed the infant to her, he said, "Meet our son, Nathan."
"Oh God, Wolf. This changes everything." Caitlin stared at her warrior, praying they would be up to the challenges facing them. "Our son has so much power. Both the Althings and Greyfalcon will want him. How...?"
"Let them try. They will have to go through me first." Wolf pulled his wife and child close to his chest, wrapping them in his love.
"No. They will have to go through both of us."
The End
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Crossing boundaries, taking no prisoners. Write what’s in your soul.
It’s the bass beat, the heartbeat, the lyrics rude and true.
Nya Rawlyns cut her teeth on sports-themed romantic comedies and historical romances before finding her true calling in the wilderness areas she has visited but calls “home” in that place that counts the most: the heart.
She has lived in the country and on a sailboat on the Chesapeake Bay, earned more than 1000 miles in competitive trail and endurance racing, taught Political Science to unwilling freshmen, and found an avocation in materials science.
When she isn’t tending to her garden or the horses, the cats, or three pervert parakeets, she can be found day dreaming and listening to the voices in her head.
Websites:
Romancing Words: http://www.romancingwords.com
Love’s Last Refuge: http://loveslastrefuge.com/
The Men of Crow Creek: http://the-men-of-crow-creek.weebly.com/
Nya Rawlyns catalog:
The Wrong Side of Right: transgressive homoerotica
The Crow Creek Series: M/M contemporary erotic western romance
Ash & Oak
Pulling Leather
Strapping Ash
Sorting Will
Flankman:
The Crow Creek Series Box Set
The Strigoi Chronicles: homoerotic lit, paranormal
Penance
Fane
Michel
Dreu
The Strigoi Chronicles Box Set
The Holiday Toast Series: M/M romantic comedy
The Christmas Toast
The Valentine Toast
Acid Jazz Singer (Hunger Hurts)
Skin
Guardians of the Portals
Finish Line
Hunters Crossing
Sculpting David
Dance Macabre