by Molly Harper
Ultimately, she didn’t care, she just wanted him inside of her. She bit his lip again, since he seemed to enjoy that. He growled as she sank her teeth gently into his lip, his eyes flashing golden.
Rolling, Zed leaned toward his pack, hand scrambling like mad to unzip it. After a few seconds of fumbling, his hand emerged with a foil packet. She wrapped her fingers around the heavy length of him, pumping her hand up and down, as he arched his hips. He dragged a claw between the cups of her bra, splitting the fabric down the middle.
“There were clasps, you know,” she mumbled into his mouth as his hands moved between them to sheath himself in latex. “Lots of them.”
“Takes too long.” He turned her so she was sitting in his lap, her back to his chest, and slid those claws carefully down her spine. He flexed them around her hips for a split-second before guiding himself upward as she sank down on him, keening with the sensation of her flesh being parted by his.
“Holy hell, woman.” Zed panted against her spine as they both adjusted to the grip her body had on his.
He gently ground against her. She gasped, shrugging out of the remains of her bra. She ran her fingertips along his thighs touching each of the claw marks tattooed there. Her touch left little ripples of golden light on his skin, like she was leaving handprints of the rift’s touch on Zed.
If she had her wits together, she would have asked what the tattoos meant, she would delight in this but all she could come up with was a string of babble that sounded like, “Harderpleaseyesthankyoutheremore,” while she reached over her shoulder and yanked on his long hair.
She deserved this. She deserved a good sweaty bout of reverse cowgirl in a sunny field with one of the most singular energy sources she’d ever experienced racing through her bloodstream. And she definitely deserved whatever strange rolling motion that was he was doing with his hips, because that felt amazing.
He mapped the curves of her body with his hands, caressing the soft skin with calloused hands, leaving trails of sweat and sensation behind. He caught her nipple between his callused thumbs, worrying it in patterns that left her breathless and dripping. A pleasurable coil of tension was building deep inside her, just beyond the reach of his thrusts.
She bucked her hips back, meeting his thrusts with abandon as her fingers tangled into the grass. It was almost embarrassing how close she was to coming so quickly, but against the double threat of his mouth nipping at her shoulder and his movements, she was spiraling toward the finish line in record time.
His teeth worked at her shoulders, giving her little nips and bites, but never breaking the skin. She wrapped her hand around the back of his head, pressing his face to her neck. His free hand snaked around her body and circled between her thighs.
The sudden spike of pleasure had her falling back against him, but he never stopped moving, never stopped touching. The thread of tension tugging through her snapped and she was screaming her release so loud that people in town probably heard it. She slammed her hands on the ground, the flowers growing larger and more vibrant in a large circle around them, the grass stretching and swelling like an ocean wave, and rippling outward.
Zed bit down lightly on her shoulder as his movements became more frantic. She was a limp weight, sagging against him. But he clutched her to him as he filled the condom, and they collapsed down on the fragrant green bed, sweaty and speechless.
For a second, Dani thought she’d fallen asleep. They were so quiet, laying in the grass, that she lost track of time. She felt Zed stroke his hand down the length of her thighs and then tried to subtly remove the condom without her noticing him tie it off and shove it and the wrapper in a plastic bag from his Mary Poppins backpack.
“Classy.”
“I give a hoot. I don’t pollute,” he said solemnly.
Dani snickered into the grass.
“So, you are very comfortable in your own skin. That’s sexy as hell.”
“I come from a long line of very sturdy Northern European women. My bones are heavy and my shoulders are broad,” she told him. “I’m never going to be tiny.”
He held up his hands. “I like it. I like snuggling with someone that I don’t feel like I’m going to break.”
“Well, we can’t snuggle here forever, you know. Your brain is going to scramble. And I probably just got pregnant with some weirdo bear-demon baby.”
Zed cackled. “Nope, I have those League-made supernatural strength condoms. No weird bear-demon babies until you’re ready for one.”
Dani shook her head. “Thanks, I’m good.”
A flash of hesitation showed across Zed’s face, but he shrugged into his pants with a grin. “Did I hallucinate it, or did you just make all the flowers grow like a magic sexy green thumb?”
“Yeah, that’s a new one. I’m not sure how I’m going to fit that into a progress report to Jillian.”
“If you use the words ‘reverse cowgirl’ in a report to Jillian, I will give you all of the pie you will ever want.”
Dani sighed over the remnants of a none-too-cheap undergarment. “You destroyed my sports bra. The girls are going to need support if I’m going to make the hike back to the truck. I refuse to free-boob it.”
Zed reached into his pack and pulled out a small plastic box. “I brought a sewing kit in my backpack. I’ll double stitch it back together.”
“You brought a sewing kit?”
“I knew I was going out to the woods with you. The chances of one of our clothes getting ripped off was pretty high,” he said.
“You know, I thought the condom was sort of presumptuous, but this is next level.”
Zed stood, taking the bra shreds from her hands, and kissing her thoroughly. “I prefer to think of it as ‘preparing in hope.’ Also, I happen to adore your ‘girls’ and wouldn’t want any harm to come to them.”
He ducked his head and kissed the top of each of her breasts.
“I don’t know whether to be charmed or annoyed,” she confessed.
“I will accept a mix of both. How about we go back and clean up a little bit, I’ll take you to the pie shop for dinner and make it up to you?”
She shrugged. “Nah, I’m good. I think I just want to go back home. Have a wash. Write up my notes and then drink about a gallon of water.”
An expression of hurt bent his features into unhappy lines, but he busied himself, stitching her bra back together. True to his word, his hands worked quickly at whipping the needle through her damaged support garment.
Dani slipped into her pants and boots, feeling a little silly to be standing topless in the swamp like some victim in a scary movie. “I just have a lot of work that needs to get done. I don’t really have time for a dinner out. Rain check?”
Zed smiled, and handed her the remade bra. “Sure, no problem. Ready to go home?”
She slid the bra over her head, impressed that it stayed together over the strain of her breasts. “Do you do alterations? I have a dress that needs to be re-hemmed.”
“Smart ass.” He slapped her on the butt and then held out her backpack like a ladies’ coat, for her to slide into.
7
Dani
It became Dani’s habit to visit the rift site every other morning, stopping at the magique line so she wasn’t at risk for passing out. She needed to map the rift in her mind, to feel its vulnerabilities and figure out how to mend each one. It was arduous, painstaking work that took a lot out of her, so she alternated with days off, just to keep her strength up.
Zed’s work on her shower continued, and somehow, things had gotten awkward after what she considered to be a pretty fantastic encounter in the swamp. He didn’t seem to know how to talk to her anymore. His jokes fell flat and awkward and he didn’t seem to know where to look. She found herself more disappointed by that than she thought possible. She had hoped to indulge in a healthy, enthusiastic affair while she was living in Mystic Bayou, but apparently sex had made things weird for Zed. She’d hoped maybe they could avoid that,
but as she suspected, Zed was a relationship guy and that made things complicated. Dani couldn’t help but feel that she’d lost a good potential friend. And then there was the possibility of Zed turning the populace of a very small town—and his good friend who happened to be her boss—against her, which was pretty damn distressing.
She’d started to leave her own house at the crack of dawn and make excuses to be somewhere else, just to pre-empt Zed’s attempts at avoiding eye contact. She’d shopped at the Walmart in Slidell. She’d even camped out in her office a few times, but accomplished nothing because the ringing and rustling of all the other people drove her damn near crazy.
Her corner of Building Eleven was a tiny space that she was pretty sure would be a walk-in closet if the trailer was used as a house. Her doorway was marked by an enormous coffee splatter stain on the carpet just outside the waiting area, where someone had apparently dropped the world’s largest latte. It had apparently geysered up to the ceiling and left creamy brown flecks up there, too. And now the entire building smelled like stale coffee.
Even with that and the portly ginger-haired socioeconomics consultant who insisted on microwaving tuna noodle casserole every day for lunch, it still wasn’t the worst-smelling environment she’d ever worked in. That honor belonged to Rotorua, New Zealand, with its geothermal springs that smelled of dirty diapers and regrets. She hadn’t been able to watch The Hobbit for years.
Still, having an office had its perks, especially at night, after everybody left for the day. The evening before, she had decided to take advantage of the office’s wifi signal and make a FaceTime call to her grandfather.
She’d had a very difficult time holding back tears when her grandfather’s face filled the screen. Because he was, as usual, leaning way too close to the laptop.
John Mason Nilsson, Jr. had been waking up at four-thirty in the morning to care for his apple trees long before Dani was born, and he looked it. His craggy, even-featured face was rough and weathered as an old boot. His lips, always on the thin side, were surrounded by a complex network of laugh lines and fine wrinkles. Losing Gramma had been harder on Grandad than he ever wanted to admit. Abbigail had been the love of his life, his best friend, but in some ways, the dementia had taken her from him years before her death. He’d been sad but settled when Dani had left the country last.
Now? For the first time in Dani’s memory, his dark green eyes were shadowed by heavy bags. Her grandfather wasn’t sleeping, and not just in his usual the “early bird gets the worm” way. This was what Dani’s father had really stolen, her grandfather’s peace of mind.
And she was going to have to hide her fury behind a smile because she would not let Grandad see how upset she was. She would not waste their limited contact on Journey and his bullshit.
“Well, hey there, Dani-Girl!” Grandad’s voice boomed through the speaker, making her cringe. Though his hearing was still sharp as an owl’s, Grandad had never quite grasped the concept of “appropriate microphone volume.” And he was using his to hum the tune to “Danny Boy,” because that never got old.
“Hi, Grandad!” She waved her hands, because that’s what he expected. It was like he didn’t trust the video was live unless she was making jazz hands.
“Trudy says you’re in Mississippi?”
She corrected him gently. “Louisiana. My boss wanted some shots of New Orleans.”
“That sounds like an awful lot of crickets in the background for New Orleans.”
Dani cleared her throat. Nope. Definitely didn’t need to take Grandad for a hearing test. “Actually, I’m finished with my New Orleans assignments and the editors asked me to check out these weird little towns along the bayou for some nature shots, quirky tourist traps, that sort of thing. There’s one town in particular that’s really building their tourist appeal, so I might even stay there a few weeks. It’s a little off the beaten path, but I’m having fun.”
“I can’t remember the last time you had a job in the good ol’ US of A,” he said, brightening.
Dani tried to control the shudder at the thought of her last assignment in Jersey. “It’s been a while.”
“Well, you be careful down there, even out in the countryside. Carry your pepper spray.”
Grandad had given her a beautifully tooled pink leather belt holster for a very ladylike canister of pepper spray. Knowing FAA regulations as she did, Dani had never taken the canister out of Elkhorn, much less the country. Trudy was hiding it in her dresser on her own farm. But if believing that Dani had it made Grandad feel better, she would lie her ass off.
Dani cleared her throat. “I always do.”
“Good girl. Now, what have you been up to?”
Dani kept her expression very neutral. “Um, just settling in, so far, meeting some really nice people. Visiting some beautiful places.”
“Any nice boys?” her grandfather asked pointedly.
“I’m not looking for any nice boys, Grandad. If I was looking for anyone, which I’m not, I would be looking for a nice man.”
“Dani-Girl, I know you didn’t have the best role models in your . . . parents, but that’s no reason to be scared off of relationships.”
“I had the best role models,” she countered. “I had you and Gram. I know exactly what love looks like. I’m just not looking for it right now. And I wouldn’t say I’m alone. I enjoy the company of plenty of—
Grandad’s bushy gray eyebrows rose. Dani paused to search for the right words. “Gentleman callers.”
“Well, company is one thing. Having someone to come home to at night is something else.”
Dani narrowed her eyes at the screen. “Are you going to keep this up or am I going to have to tell Trudy where you’ve been hiding the Little Debbie cakes the doctor says you’re not supposed to have?”
Grandad gasped in indignation. “You don’t know where my stash is!”
“In the top cabinet, behind the matches and the emergency lamp oil. You haven’t moved it since I was seven.”
Grandad crossed his arms over his chest. “All right, all right. I’ll drop it. Just so you know, this isn’t me worrying about you being alone, honey. I just want you to have even a little bit of what me and your Gramma had.”
“What you and Gramma had was irreplaceable. I wouldn’t even want to try.”
Grandad grinned from the screen, his eyes suspiciously shiny.
“I don’t want you to worry anymore about the money, Grandad. With the contract fee for the work I’m doing now, combined with my savings, I’ll have enough to pay it off.”
“I don’t feel right about that, Dani. I don’t want to take your money. I don’t need my granddaughter paying my way,” he said.
“Well, it seems fitting, considering it was your son that put you in this situation in the first place.”
“Your father.” Grandad shook his head. “I never did understand that boy. He was born selfish, only ever thinking about whatever shiny thing he wanted next. I never would have thought he could trick his mama like that. And Abby, she would have . . . she would have been so disappointed.”
Dani swallowed thickly. “I know.”
“The only thing that boy ever did right was making you.”
She preened for him, all false confidence. “Well, I am pretty amazing.”
“I just don’t feel right about taking from you. I’m supposed to leave behind something for you, not the other way around. You work hard, sweetheart. It’s not right to take that to save a used-up old farm I’m probably going to have to give up in a few years anyway.”
“Well, it’s my money, to do what I want with, and I happen to love that used-up old farm as it’s the only home I’ve ever known. So please don’t sell it to some land developer for condos.”
Grandad pinched his thin, trembling lips together and reached forward as if he was stroking the screen where Dani’s face was displayed. “I love you, Dani.”
“Love you, too, Grandad."
It was a good thi
ng that the building was empty because the second she pressed the “end” button on the call, she put her face in her hands and wept like a baby. And then she sucked it up, wiped off her face, and wrote up a report containing her observations and thoughts on the rift. She submitted regular reports to Jillian, who didn’t seem perturbed by her lack of immediate and concrete progress. Jillian was about results, but the right results. She seemed to grasp that rushing through the work could cause more problems, and Dani appreciated her patience.
Or at least, that’s what she thought until she returned to the rift site one morning to discover she had company.
She moved beyond the magique line, toward “her rock,” the marker she’d made to note how close she could get to the rift without suffering ill effects. The site felt off somehow, not from the vibrations of the rift, but some other presence, which didn’t make sense because according to Zed, almost no one from town came out to the site, for the sake of their own ear drums.
Dani took her working stance, shoulders relaxed, feet apart, eyes closed. And she prepared to open herself to the rift, to begin the tiniest repairs to the edges of the rift to see what it would tolerate. But just as her lids shuttered close, she felt someone else’s energy pressing at her back. And the warning klaxons in her brain shouted, “UNSAFE! UNSAFE!”
Dani turned around to find a thin redheaded woman with pointed features standing nearly eye to eye with her. Dani shouted, raising her fist and swinging at the slight woman wearing head-to-toe khaki field clothes.
“Oh, my!” the woman sniffed as Dani stopped her fist just a few centimeters away from her nose. “That strikes me like an over-reaction.”
“Well, sneaking up on someone in the woods strikes me as a great way to get punched in the face! What are you doing here! Get back to the human line before you get hurt!” Dani shouted.
The woman rolled her pale eyes slightly. “I don’t ‘sneak,’ dear. I was merely walking quietly through the woods so as not to disturb the local wildlife, which from what I understand is quite ‘varied.’ Honestly, you probably shouldn’t be out here if you’re going to be so excitable.”