by Ashlee Price
I spread out the blanket on top of the hay I’ve spread out on the floor of the barn right under the spot where the moonlight streams in through the hole in the roof like a silvery spotlight.
I take Grace’s hand as she kicks off her shoes and sits on top of it.
“Well, this is something different,” she says as she looks around. “Where’s Rosie?”
“I transferred her to the stables for the night,” I answer. “I thought it would be better for us to be alone.”
“Yeah.” Grace nods. “Poor Rosie would just feel like a third wheel. Speaking of third wheel, where’s Toby?”
“He’s probably asleep on the living room couch,” I answer. “At least, that’s where I left him.”
She grins. “He loves that couch.”
“But let’s not talk about another guy, shall we?” I rub my hands. “Actually, to celebrate this occasion, I have prepared something special.”
Her eyes narrow. “Really?”
I pull out the bottle of wine I’ve hidden in the hay. “It’s Phil’s last bottle of wine.”
Grace’s eyes grow wide. “And he gave it to you?”
“Sort of.” I open the lid. “I don’t have any wine glasses, though, so we’ll have to share the bottle.”
She shrugs. “Okay.”
I offer it to her. “Want to try it first?”
“Sure.” She grabs the bottle and takes a sip. “Mmm. That’s good. And strong.”
I take my own sip so I can form my own opinion.
As the burgundy liquid rests on my tongue, I feel something sour and slightly sweet. As it travels down my throat, I feel the heat. As soon as it reaches my stomach, I feel the kick of the alcohol.
“It is both of those,” I agree.
“When was the last time we were on a date?” Grace asks.
“Hmm.” My eyebrows bunch up as I try to think. “Actually, we haven’t been on a date since we got married, so this is something of a first.”
“No way.” She punches my arm playfully. “What took you so long?”
“I had to wait until you had amnesia and learned to cook,” I joke.
She sticks out her lower lip. “Very funny.”
I take another sip of the wine.
“Do you like the new me better than the old me, then?” Grace asks.
“I think so,” I answer before handing her the bottle.
“Me too, actually,” she says as she strokes the bottle. “Somehow, I feel like I’m stronger and more sure of myself.”
“Really?”
She tips the bottle and takes a sip, then wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.
“There’s just one thing I don’t like about the new me.”
“What?” I ask her.
“The new me doesn’t really know anything about you,” Grace says as she hands me the bottle back. “Do you think we can fix that?”
I lie down on my side on the blanket and prop my head up on an elbow. “Well, what do you want to know?”
“For starters, how old are you?” she asks.
My eyebrows go up. “Wow. What a serious question.”
“It is serious,” she says.
“Thirty-five,” I tell her. “My birthday is January 19.”
“Mine is December 2, but you already knew that, didn’t you?”
I didn’t, but I do now.
“Any more serious questions, or was that it?” I ask her before taking another gulp of wine.
“Where are your parents?” Grace asks.
“Gone,” I answer vaguely.
Frankly, I don’t know if they’re alive or dead since I haven’t seen them since the Icebreaker.
“Any siblings?”
“A younger brother.”
And I don’t know what’s become of him, either.
“And you’re a farmer?” Grace gets the bottle from me.
“Is that so hard to believe?”
She shrugs. “Why, though?”
“It just gives me a sense of peace, I guess,” I answer as I look around the barn. “And a sense of belonging. Plus the smell is something else.”
Grace chuckles.
“Any more questions?” I ask her. “Aren’t you going to ask me what my favorite color is? Or the name of my first pet? Or how many girlfriends I used to have?”
Grace narrows her eyes at me. “That many, huh?”
“On second thought, don’t ask, because I’ve lost count.”
She sticks her tongue out at me before drinking from the bottle. This time, she takes longer than before.
“Now, now. Don’t finish the wine.” I grab the bottle.
“It’s your fault for trying to make me jealous,” she says.
My eyebrows go up. She’s jealous?
“Now let’s see.” She touches her chin. “What else should I ask? Ah, here’s one…”
~
By the time the bottle is empty, Grace has asked me a hundred questions. At least it feels like it.
Finally, just like the wine, she’s run out. At least, I think so until her expression turns serious.
“Can I ask you just one more question?” she asks as she leans towards me, so close I can smell the alcohol on her breath.
“Yes?” I put down the empty bottle.
“What was her name? Your first wife?”
I pause. “Angela, but everyone called her Angie.”
“And you loved her, didn’t you?”
I think about not answering. She did say she’d just ask one more question. But I decide to simply nod.
“I’m sorry.” Grace holds my hand. “I’m sorry about what happened to her. And to your baby.”
I shake my head. “None of it was your fault. And it was a long time ago.”
She, too, shakes her head. “A long time ago, a short time ago. It doesn’t really matter. We never fill up the holes that the ones we’ve lost have left in our lives. We can just find people to love us in spite of them and help us forget them.”
I squeeze her hand. “You’re right.”
“Do you… think you could let me help you forget?” Grace asks as her fingers entwine with mine. “Not Angie or the baby, just the holes. The pain. Because I think I’d like to try.”
I don’t answer. I simply look into her eyes, those deep blue eyes that are currently warm and brimming with sincerity, oceans that reflect the loneliness that I’m sure can be seen in mine.
We’re kindred souls—lonely survivors wanting to live.
Instead of answering, I take her chin in my hand and press my lips to hers. At first, they simply tremble beneath mine. Then they press back.
I kiss her harder as my hand moves to her jaw. I part her lips to taste her, but suddenly she pulls away.
I narrow my gaze at her. “Is something wrong?”
“It’s just that I don’t remember ever doing this before. You’ll have to teach me the ropes,” Grace confesses.
And here I thought she wanted to stop.
I grin as I stroke her cheek. “My pleasure.”
Chapter 14
Grace
No, the pleasure is all mine. Or so I think as Travis’s tongue barges into my mouth.
My breath leaves me and my eyes fall shut.
As my tongue quivers and melts beneath his, a shiver ascends my spine. My heart pounds and sparks a fiery explosion in my chest. The heat pools in my breasts and travels down between my legs, where another soft part of me quivers and melts.
I may think I’m a virgin, but my body knows Travis well. My tongue pushes back against him. My nipple pokes against his thumb.
He lowers me and I feel the blanket beneath me. I hear the crinkle of hay. His hand cradles my jaw as our tongues and our breaths mingle and I lift my hands to ruffle his hair. His other hand slips beneath my shirt and the cup of my bra to squeeze my breast, and I tremble.
He rubs my nipple and a moan escapes from my mouth into his. My fingers pass his nape and make their way down his broad back.
>
I scratch and cling to sinew and cotton as his mouth continues to devour mine. It’s as if he’s consuming every drop of wine that still lingers there, every breath I take, and my very being. His hand leaves my breast and slides lower along my side. It pauses at my hip, then continues on over a quivering thigh. Then it climbs back up and follows the slope of my pelvis until it rests between my legs. Fingers brush against the front of my pants and I arch up against him. My leg grazes the bulge in his crotch and his tongue flutters against mine.
I touch it and he lifts his head to draw a deep breath. His eyes bore into mine, black as a moonless night, holding a sea of stars. The desire in them makes my own breath catch as my heart stills in my chest.
“Are you sure you’ve never done this before?” Travis asks hoarsely.
I open my eyes and narrow them at him. What does he mean? Why does he sound like we’ve never done this before?
“I don’t remember,” I answer. “You tell me.”
“Well, I’ll tell you a few things.” He touches the tip of my nose and brushes away my hair. “You’re beautiful.”
He gazes at my breasts and cups one of them. I inhale sharply.
“You’re unexpected.”
He traces a circle around my bellybutton.
“And unless you want it rough…” Travis grabs my wrist. “I suggest you keep your hands off me.”
“You mean keep my hands off this?” I give a little squeeze, and this time, he’s the one who inhales.
“Exactly.”
I offer him my wrists. “Well, why don’t you tie me up, then?”
He grins but kisses my wrists just above the pulse points. “Not this time. I’ll find another way to distract you.”
He kisses my lips again, then grabs the hem of my shirt and pulls it off. He takes off my bra as well and I pull them off my arms and toss them aside. A chilly breeze blows against my bare breasts and I cover them.
“Don’t.” Travis grabs my wrist.
“But it’s cold,” I tell him with a frown.
He takes one mound of flesh in his mouth and sucks on it. I gasp.
“Warmer now?”
I simply nod, since I don’t trust myself to speak.
He sucks on the other breast while playing with the peak on the one he left behind and I throw my head back. The moonlight shines on my face and I squeeze my eyes shut.
Travis kisses the valley between my breasts and moves lower. He plants a reverent kiss on my belly. It tickles a little, but I don’t laugh. He moves even lower and pulls off my pants, along with my underwear.
I kick them off and lie back down as he leaves a trail of kisses on the inside of my thighs. Then, suddenly, he stops.
I lift my head. “What is it?”
“I’m just admiring your birthmark.”
I glance at it. “Yeah. I’d forgotten that was there.”
He kisses it.
I laugh as his lips tickle. “What are you doing?”
“It’s proof of who you are, so it’s an important part of you.” He kisses it once more. “Though I think this is my favorite part of you.”
Without warning, he kisses me between my legs. My head crashes down on the blanket as the breath is extinguished from my lungs.
His lips press against me a few more times. Then I feel his tongue against my skin and my eyes grow wide.
“Travis?” I look at him. “What are…?”
The rest of my question evaporates along with my air supply as his tongue brushes against a spot that makes my entire body shudder. Heat swirls in my belly.
He teases that nub with the tip of his tongue and I feel something begin to leak out of me. Then that tongue slips inside me and I let out a cry.
I grab handfuls of the blanket at my sides as Travis’s tongue delves deep inside me. I hear the sound of him lapping up what’s leaking out of me and another shiver goes through me.
He licks me faster and my vision blurs.
“Travis.”
Suddenly he lifts his head. I manage to open my eyes just wide enough to be captivated by his smoldering gaze.
His hands go to his belt and his zipper. The bulge behind it seems bigger now. Then he takes out his cock and my eyes almost pop out of their sockets.
That’s thick. And long. And… fascinating.
I can’t help but reach out to wrap my fingers around it. It quivers against my palm and I feel something wet beneath my thumb.
“Remember what I told you about touching that?” Travis asks as he sucks in a breath.
I shrug. “Maybe I like it rough.”
For a moment, he just stares at me. Then I give him another squeeze and he bends me in half. I see my toes above my eyes.
He spreads my legs, grips my ankles and clenches his jaw as he pushes in. I purse my lips to suppress a cry as I throw my head farther back than before, though I can’t stop a moan from slipping past.
And another moan. And another.
The moans are all I hear now. That and Travis’s grunts as his cock enters me and then slides out again.
He captures my lips and I wrap my arms around him. Then he pulls away and jerks his hips faster.
With each thrust, a wave of heat washes over me and ripples throughout my body, now numb to everything else but pleasure. Then, without warning, it explodes.
I close my eyes as I tighten my grip on Travis and bite down on his shoulder. He lets out a groan but keeps moving in and out of me as my body shakes.
Finally, he stops and something spills inside me, into me. Then he lets my legs go and collapses on top of me.
I open my eyes as my arms fall to my sides. My chest heaves beneath his as I catch my breath. His cheek rests against mine.
Then he lifts himself off me and glances at his shoulder. I see the mark where I bit him and I gasp.
“Did I do that?” I clasp a hand over my mouth. “I don’t know why I did that.”
“It’s fine,” Travis says.
At least he still had his shirt on, so my teeth didn’t cut into his skin.
I shrug. “I told you I don’t mind it rough.”
Or maybe I was just drunk. Now that my skin is cooling off and the excitement is fading, I’m starting to feel tired, dizzy and sleepy.
Travis plants a kiss on my forehead and hands me my clothes. “Ah. So you remember it now, do you?”
I don’t answer as I put on my clothes.
Come to think of it, I do seem to remember having sex before, and biting someone’s shoulder before in the heat of climax. And yet Travis didn’t seem to see it coming. Nor does he seem to like it. Which can only mean I did it to someone else.
I had sex with someone else.
Somewhere in the past seven years, sometime before I met Travis and married him, I had sex with another guy.
I frown as I rack my brains in search of the memory, of a face, then frown some more as I fail.
Who was that other guy I had sex with?
Chapter 15
Michael
“Coffee?” Courtney asks after we enter her office.
I nod as I sit on one of the chairs in front of her desk. I lean on my knees and massage my temples.
I haven’t been able to sleep well since Grace’s death. Each time I close my eyes, her scarred face with those glistening blue eyes pops up in my head. Her laughter rings in my ears and turns into a haunting melody that grips my heart. Each time I sleep, I end up having nightmares of searching for her but never finding her, or finding her and chasing after her but never catching up to her, or holding her in my arms only to have her vanish without a trace. I end up waking with my breath coming in gasps or tears in my eyes and a horrible feeling wrenching my chest.
It’s because of that that I’ve decided to avoid sleeping altogether. I’ve immersed myself in work and limited myself to three to five half-hour naps in a day. They’ve given my mind enough rest to keep working, but I know the lack of sleep is taking its toll on me.
The last tim
e I looked in a mirror, I barely recognized myself with all those circles under my eyes.
“Here.”
Courtney hands me the mug of coffee, and the aroma of the beans immediately lifts my spirits as it drifts into my nostrils. The warmth seeps into my palms.
Thank goodness the Pioneers remembered to bring coffee beans aboard the Vessel.
She sits across me. “I never had the chance to say this, but I’m sorry for your loss.”
I just give another nod.
“I know how hard it is to lose someone you love,” Courtney continues. “I looked up to my brother so much, and I felt shattered when he died on board the Vessel. I never expected that. I mean, we went up there to survive, you know, and still, people died.”
“That was a tragedy,” I agree as I lift the mug to my lips.
“Even so, the loss of the people dear to us doesn’t mean we should lose ourselves. Look at you. You’re turning into a corpse.”
I pause and narrow my eyes at her. “Am I?”
She nods. “Michael, you look terrible, and everyone’s getting worried about you. I’m getting worried about you.”
I take a sip.
“You should get some sleep,” Courtney suggests.
“I get sleep,” I tell her.
“More sleep,” she says. “And more food. Coffee doesn’t count.”
“You’re starting to sound like a doctor. Or my mother.”
She grins. “Well, your mother is a doctor. And I don’t care if I sound like her if it means you’ll listen. This is serious. If you don’t take better care of yourself, sooner or later, you’re going to collapse.”
I take another sip.
Courtney puts her hand on my knee. “If there’s anything I can do for you, Michael, just tell me. Please?”
I gaze into her bluish green eyes and see the genuine concern in them.
Most people look at me and see a means to get closer to power. That’s always been the way of things, even before the Icebreaker. But Courtney looks at me and makes me feel like a man. If I hadn’t met Grace, I would probably have ended up with her, which my parents would probably have rejoiced over. But I did meet Grace, and fell in love with her. And even though she’s gone, I’m not sure if I can love someone else.
I take Courtney’s hand and squeeze it. “Thank you, Courtney.”