by Cecilia Tan
No! Stay with me.
He touched his forehead. “Okay, you don’t like that idea. I get it. Let me at least call the police. These people could be dangerous. Your own sister locked us in here.”
She relented. Calling the police was probably an excellent idea. She radiated impatient approval. Derek made the call quickly and then returned his attention to her. “I hope that doesn’t get Suzanne and Bob into too much trouble,” he said. “Hopefully they took my disappearance as a sign they should clear out.”
Well, if we could wake me up, I could warn them, Wren thought.
“I have a feeling you want me to kiss you again.”
Oh, yes. Yesyesyes.
He let out a breath, and she could feel him trying to let go of fear and the ball of rage that kept trying to burn its way out when he saw that she was naked under the blanket. “Jesus, Wren...”
Kiss me. Touch me. I need you.
His fingertips traced the curve of her cheek, and he brushed his lips over hers again. Oh, that felt so good. Something she could actually feel.
More, harder.
He shook his head. “It feels right, and yet, I know it’s wrong...”
It’s right. Derek, I need you!
Her urgency spiked and he gasped, his eyes falling closed as he felt it wash through him. “Oh, God, Wren...”
Her need only intensified as she saw his trousers starting to tent.
More.
“All right,” he whispered, thinking that maybe arousing her would do the trick. It seemed to be what triggered and strengthened her abilities, after all. His fingertips ran down her neck, and he kissed in a line following the curve down to her shoulder. He slipped the blanket down and continued his march of kisses, down her bosom until he reached one petal-soft nipple. He drew it into his mouth, flicking it with a gentle tongue tip, then sucking as it hardened.
Wren’s body stirred slightly against him. Oh, yes, good, more more...
He rolled her onto her back and continued his exploration of her skin with his mouth. He traversed the valley between her two breasts, then brought the other nipple to match the first, licking the hard bud again and again... Wren felt a burst of lust. That was exactly the way he had licked her clit, and she could feel the thought forming in his head that he wanted to do so again.
God, yes, Derek. Now...
His hand slid over her pubic hair, cupping her and massaging gently until he felt her body move again, just slightly, against him. Then he moved down the bed, parting her knees inch by inch and moving one foot aside, until he could lie on his belly between her legs. He parted her lips with his fingers, then circled her clit with just the tip of his index finger.
Oh, yes. Oh, God, Derek, please....
Wren! I can hear you!
Good good good.... I need you want you need you...
All right, sweetheart. I’m here. I’m here. He lowered his mouth to her clit and sucked it softly, flicking his tongue and then grazing the flesh with his teeth. Wren felt herself being drawn closer, but she was still looking down on them, rather than looking from behind her own eyes.
I’m so empty, Derek...
He made soothing noises with his throat, as he slipped a finger inside her and slowly drew it in and out. How's that? Does that feel good?
Yesyesyes...
He returned to sucking her clit while finger-fucking her, and Wren felt her arousal mounting. Perhaps if she came, she’d return to her body? But how could she come if she wasn’t there?
More!
He slipped a second finger in alongside the first. Wren flooded him with her need.
God, you’re so wet, so slick.
All for you... She couldn’t stop the thought from forming, that she’d kept Evan from fucking her there, to save herself for Derek. She felt the curl of his anger, aimed not at her, but at the men who had used her, rising like a skirl of smoke. I need you now more than ever.
He could hardly get his pants off fast enough. Rational thought was shredding away, as she filled his mind with images of the orgy and how much she longed for him, then and now. How she’d saved herself for him.
Don’t make me wait anymore!
I won’t. He settled himself between her legs, suckling one nipple again while his hand strayed across the other. She could feel the threads of fear, reaching up out of the dark swamp of his memories, trying to pull him back down, but their grasp was feeble in comparison to the more immediate emotions that gripped him. How dare they? And how he’d failed her by waiting this long. No more waiting. She needed him.
There was not enough spare thought to consider a condom or any more trivialities. The reality of his cockhead pulsing against her clit, where it lay nestled, was far too overwhelming. Animal instinct told him to shift his weight, to press it just there...
Wren’s body responded, moving against him, driving herself onto him an inch or two—the ache of being empty far worse than the pain of entry. He shuddered, trying to hold back for just a moment more, but it was only a moment, and then his hips answered hers with a thrust of their own and he was inside her, fully inside.
“Derek!” She had a voice! And arms with which she clung to him, wrapping her legs around him, too. “Oh, Derek...”
His answer was a low sound in his throat and a new thrust, drawing back and filling her again.
She cried out in ecstasy as she felt him move inside her, felt their bodies as connected as their minds in a rhythm so ancient she felt as if it echoed every sound in nature, the trees swaying in the wind, the waves lapping at the lakeshore.
The ticking of a broken clock, where the pendulum swung but time never moved forward, cycling around and around... she had no sense of time moving forward. Even her breath, her heartbeat, seemed synchronized to the plunge of his cock into her, the head touching her in a way she’d never been touched before. She’d had a few partners with whom she’d tried intercourse, but none of them had struck sparks of pleasure with each thrust. The head of his cock was like a match, striking the flint inside her over and over.
With a sudden cry she caught fire, orgasm exploding through her every nerve. Her consciousness expanded suddenly then, like a star gone supernova, and she could see and hear and feel everyone in the building, in the parking lot outside, in the cars going by...
The police were on the way. She only gripped Derek more tightly, urging him to fuck harder, wanting more still. She could see Suzanne lounging with her husband and the woman they had brought with them, sated and happy. Wren wasn’t sure if she could hear it, but she tried to send a warning, an urgency to leave, an image of the police... and saw Suzanne stand quickly, hurrying the others.
But then Wren’s attention was being pulled back to Derek, to the rising tide in him, to the electricity that seemed to be building in his flesh as his pace increased.
“Harder,” she whispered, wanting one more explosion for herself, and craving his, too. She could push, she knew, she could push her mind through his and send them both spinning instantly into release, but she would not. Locking her legs around his, she rocked against him, her body meeting his again and again.
A sudden thought struck her, that he wasn’t wearing protection, felt the echo of the thought in his own mind in the split second he tried to pull away, but she held him fast. She wasn’t sure where the knowledge came from, if it was something that Evan could have planted in her mind, or if the experience had opened the instinctive knowledge of her mind and body she had missed before, but she reached into herself and knew that she was not ready to conceive. He felt what she felt, knew what she knew, and redoubled his efforts to make her come with his cock.
Wren wasn’t sure what sent her over the edge more, the feeling of him inside her, touching her just the right way, or the feeling of him holding himself back, straining against his own body's inevitability to make sure she reached another peak.
Maybe both. This time, her orgasm mingled with his, and instead of an explosive outward expansion, her
mind fused even more strongly with his, anchoring them to each other in a spinning coil of energy that only gradually slowed to a stop.
And then she was looking up into his eyes, a bit of hair plastered to his forehead damp with sweat, his mouth slightly open in incredulity and his eyes dazed but alight with joy. She craned upward and kissed him and he trembled softly against her, lowering his full weight bit by bit. She could still feel throbbing inside her and she squeezed the cock still inside her. He lifted himself again so that they looked into each other's eyes, and he pulled back for another gentle thrust.
“Oh!” He was softening slowly, and was still hard enough to give her more. She bit her lip but did not look away from his eyes as he fucked her gently now, with no more thought of orgasm, only enjoying being joined and the milder but no less pleasurable sensation of it. Three, four, five thrusts, a melting sort of pleasure seeming to spread from her core, from him, from between her legs out to the tips of her fingers and toes. “Oh, yes...”
“Wren...” He seemed unable to say anything more, but perhaps he did not have to. Her name communicated everything to her. His love, his amazement, his admiration, his care, his protectiveness, his desire to be with her in every sense of the word.
She kissed him again, and at last he was too soft to stay inside her any longer. He slipped out and then slid to his side, pulling her with him and cradling her in his arms. “Wren.”
She just nodded in response, pressing kisses to his damp skin. Now, oh she wanted to sleep! To just sleep in his arms.
But she could not quite forget that they were locked in Evan's bedroom, and that the police were on the way. “We should get up and get dressed,” she murmured.
He made a hum of agreement, but did not move for a few seconds, as reluctant to let go of her as she was to let go of him. A brief hiss made her sit up, though.
Someone had just slid a piece of paper under the door.
WREN FOUND HERSELF shivering where she sat in a chair in a hallway at the police station. She hugged herself and wished she could make the air around her warmer. “Darn,” she said, rubbing her forehead. “That would have been a handy talent.”
She was wearing some mismatched clothes of Evan's, which she’d figured he wouldn’t be needing, seeing as he had fled the scene before the police had arrived.
Wren had warned him herself, without meaning to, when she’d tried to warn Bob and Suzanne.
She took out Abby’s note and looked at it again. She could make out Derek’s voice and the detective he was talking to, but not their individual words. If she let herself go, almost half asleep, she could sense what they were saying, but she was afraid to slip too far into the trance state. The technique Derek had used to pin her to her own body earlier would probably be considered rude to perform in the middle of the station.
She read the note instead.
Dear Wren,
I’m so so so so so sorry things didn’t work out here. I got wrapped up in stuff and I didn’t even realize what day it was until the day came.
Wren assumed she meant the anniversary of their parents' death.
I’d already promised Evan I’d do something and, well, that’s when I realized maybe it was time I start loving the people around me more than the ones who have already departed.
She felt a little ill, wondering how much of Abby’s feelings were truly love, and which were manipulated and orchestrated by Evan, both through her mind and with his actions and words. She was quite sure Abby was sincere, but the premise still felt rotten.
I never thought you’d be so worried about me you’d come looking for me. I really thought Steve was going to be the guy for you finally, after what Evan had said. I was only thinking of you when I decided to stay out of the way, because I knew if I introduced him to you, you’d hate him instantly. I thought you’d connect with him right away, and then I’d be able to see you all the time once you joined our family.
It didn’t seem to occur to Abby that she and Wren were already family. “If that was your way of showing you loved me, you sure picked a weird way of doing it,” she said to the paper in her hand.
Thank you for the warning. Evan and I are going to disappear with Ramon and Steve and a few others. Don’t look for me. I won’t contact you because I don’t want trouble with the police and Evan says they'll use you to try to find us. Maybe when it all blows over in a year or two. And I’m so sorry for locking you and your boyfriend up. He seems really nice! I just didn’t know what Evan was going to say about him snooping around.
Wren shook her head. She had little doubt that if he could justify it somehow, Evan would have kept her caged up like Mrs. Riggs. She was somewhere here, too, giving a statement to the police. Wren had caught a glimpse of her, haggard and wan but her head held high.
I wish I could tell you more about Evan and how much he’s changed me. I never thought I would find a love like this—it’s so far beyond anything I ever experienced before. Looks like you’re going through the same thing! I wish we could sit and talk and you could tell me all about him, too. Maybe someday.
Love,
Abby
“Ms. Delacourt?”
She looked up from the note to see a uniformed officer standing there with a cup of coffee in a paper cup. He was trying to hand it to her.
“I thought you might want this to warm you up. You look cold.”
She cradled it in her hands, grateful for the warmth both in the cup and in his smile. “Thank you. That was thoughtful of you.”
He shrugged. “Derek’s a good guy. I knew him at school. I’m Mark Hammond.”
“Nice to meet you.” She shook his hand and realized as they touched that she got a whisper of his inner state. He wasn’t being guarded around her, she realized. And he was hoping everything would turn out well.
Derek and the detective came out of the room then. Wren couldn’t remember this one’s name now; she was too tired. A different one had taken a statement from her earlier. She yawned.
“If you want,” Derek was saying to the detective, "I could drop Mrs. Riggs off at home. Her house is only a few doors down from mine.”
“Ah,” the man said, as if that explained a lot to him. He rubbed his eyes. “Or I could take her to the hospital. They wouldn’t turn her away from her husband's bedside.”
Derek put a hand on the detective’s shoulder. “Or I could take her to the hospital, and you could get on tracking the fugitives, eh Susser?”
“We’re already doing that.” Detective Susser's weariness seemed to recede as he focused on the crime. “Thank God Mrs. Riggs is going to press charges. If we had to wait for some ADA to decide whether to pursue a case, forget it. Go on, take the ladies home.”
The next thing Wren knew, she was handing the coffee back to Mark, Mrs. Riggs had appeared from somewhere, and all three of them were getting into Derek’s SUV.
He waited until the engine had warmed up and he was making his way out of the parking lot to say, "I’m glad I took Diana's advice when I started up. She’s the one who told me to cultivate a good relationship with the police.”
“Mark said he went to school with you,” Wren said.
“Yeah, that helped a lot. And I managed to help out Susser with some things a few years ago, so there you go.” He turned to Mrs. Riggs in the passenger seat. “Helena, it’s your choice. The hospital or home?”
Wren could feel her debating, and she blinked. Her telepathy seemed to be flickering on and off, even though now she wasn’t the slightest bit aroused. There were a million questions she wanted to ask Evan, but he was gone.
Maybe the police would find him. She patted the bulk in the pocket of her borrowed coat, wondering when she would get a chance to look at it.
“The hospital,” Mrs. Riggs finally said. She had short waves of golden hair, frosted with silver, and seemed to glow in the street lights. “I don’t know what you told the police, but I’m quite certain Evan or one of his men were behind it. But how can it be p
roved? A psychic attack doesn’t leave evidence.”
Derek nodded while Wren listened avidly to see if she would reveal any more of what she knew of Evan's abilities. But the woman fell silent.
Wren fell into a doze, then, or perhaps a daze. She was aware of the SUV moving, but not of time passing, and she felt Helena Riggs's guilt spike as they pulled into the hospital parking lot.
Wren followed them into the hospital, Derek supporting Mrs. Riggs with his arm. A cop was there to meet them; Wren was vaguely aware that Detective Susser had arranged it, and soon they were all inside the Councilman's room. The cop went to stand outside.
Mrs. Riggs put a hand to her mouth as if she were holding back tears, and Derek put his arm around Wren as if to steer her out of the room, too.
“Wait!” Wren’s eyes went wide. “He’s here.”
She could almost see him, hovering over his own body, frustrated and frantic.
Mrs. Riggs turned to her. “Can you talk to him? What’s happened to him?”
Wren closed her eyes. He was there, yet she couldn’t seem to reach him, just as when she had been out of body, she hadn’t been able to reach anyone directly. “Try... try holding his hand.”
Mrs. Riggs did so without hesitation. Wren could feel the disconnected spirit drawn closer, as if Mrs. Riggs were the battery fueling the electromagnet.
Wren nodded. “That brought him closer to his body. He’s just... having trouble getting back in.”
“You can see that?”
“See... feel... it’s hard to say which sense I’m using,” Wren said. “But it happened to me before. I think it was an accident with me. I couldn’t say with your husband.”
“How did you get back in?” Mrs. Riggs squeezed her husband's hand tight, possibly tight enough to cause pain, but Wren saw him sinking even lower, blanketing his body, but not yet inside.
Wren glanced at Derek and saw he was blushing and not about to say anything. Wren answered, "Well, Derek, um, kissed me.”
To her surprise, Mrs. Riggs smiled, a sparkle of tears in her eyes. “Like a fairytale.” And before Wren could explain or make a move to leave them in privacy, the woman had turned to grasp her husband by the cheeks and press a full kiss to his mouth.