Last Light

by Claire Kent

  I stare up at the ceiling and remember where I am.

  When I turn my head, I see that Travis is sound asleep beside me, his mouth slightly open and both arms resting on top of the covers.

  I turn on my side so I’m facing him, watching his chest slowly rise and fall with his breathing and the way one of his hands is fisted in the covers.

  I’ve seen him sleeping before. In the woods when we need to sleep in shifts. But he’s never slept this deeply while we’re camping. Most nights he only gets a few hours of rest.

  I can’t even imagine how tired he is, how much he needs to sleep like this. I’ve got to go to the bathroom, but I don’t want to get out of bed because I’m afraid it might wake him up.

  So I stay curled up on my side, watching him and trying not to think about how much I need to pee.

  Maybe he wakes up naturally the way I did, or maybe he senses me staring at him. Either way, after a few minutes his eyelashes flutter, and he shifts slightly under the covers.

  “Layne,” he mumbles. His eyes still aren’t open.

  “Yeah. I’m here.”

  “Layne!” This time my name is more urgent. His eyes pop open, and his head lifts from the pillow.

  “I’m here.” I reach over to touch his bare chest. “I’m right here, Travis.”

  His body softens, and he smiles at me, relaxing back against the pillow. “Mornin’.”

  “Morning. We slept late.”

  “Yeah. Can’t believe I slept so long. Musta been like twelve hours.”

  “We were tired.”

  “Guess so.” He reaches over and smooths my hair back from my face. Since I went to sleep without braiding it, it’s a wavy mess all over my shoulders and the pillow. “You sleep okay?”

  “Yeah. I just woke up. Barely moved all night.”

  “How d’you feel?”

  “Fine. I just told you I slept good.”

  “Didn’t mean that.”

  I frown until I realize what he’s asking about. “Oh. Yeah. No, I’m good. Not too crampy this morning. How’s your ankle?”

  “Sore. Not too bad.”

  “Are you lying to me?”

  “Why would I lie?”

  “Because you have this whole stoic, manly thing going on. You like to act all strong and invulnerable.”

  His blue-gray eyes are softer and warmer than usual. I really love the looks of them. His mouth tilts up just slightly as he says, “Maybe it’s not just an act. Maybe I am all strong and invulnerable.”

  “Well, you’re strong.” I trace my fingertips along the delicious contours of his shoulder, his bicep. “But you’re not invulnerable. Remember, you sprained your ankle yesterday.”

  “Don’t remind me.”

  “I will remind you. And I’ll keep reminding you. You have to take it easy today and stay off your feet. You’re not going to do anything.”

  “Nothin’?”

  “Nothing.” I give my head a firm nod to show him I mean business.

  He makes a soft snort, but his expression is more than amused. It’s warm and getting warmer. “Thought we might could do a little somethin’.”

  “Like what?” Call me stupid, but I still have no idea what he’s talking about.

  His eyes heat up even more.

  “Oh.”

  “Only if you wanna. Didn’t wanna ask last night since you weren’t feeling good. But if you’re feelin’ better this mornin’...”

  Flutters have awakened in my belly—more emotional than physical right now. I slide my hand under the covers, feeling his chest, his belly, and finally ending at the front of his underwear.

  He’s hard.

  “Did you wake up this way?” I ask, half laughing and half excited as I feel the shape of his erection beneath the thin cotton.

  “Pretty much.” His hips move restlessly beneath my hand. “You feel like it?”

  “I’m not crampy right now, but I’m still... Might get a little messy.”

  “What the hell do I care about that?”

  I’m giggling as I crawl over him so I can get out of bed. “I’ll be right back. I need to go to the bathroom and take care of a few things. Then we can do something.”

  “Don’t be too long!”

  Laughter and excitement are still bubbling over as I run to the bathroom and do what I need to do.

  When I return, I’m ready to go.

  “Think we’ll be okay,” I say as I climb onto the bed, pull down the covers, and straddle his thighs. “Not much going on right now in the period department.” When he starts to push himself up, I flatten both hands on his chest. “Huh-uh. You’ve got to rest your ankle.”

  “My ankle is fine.” His eyes are roving over my face and body with a heat and possessiveness that exhilarates me. I’m still wearing the oversized man’s shirt, but Travis obviously likes what he sees. “Don’t need no coddlin’.”

  “Well, you’re going to get coddled anyway. I can be on top this time.” I look down at his big, prostrate body and feel a little flicker of nerves. “At least I think I can. You might have to help me a little.”

  His smile is fond. Entitled in a way that’s deeply thrilling. Like what he sees is his. “Any help you want, you got.”

  My slight anxiety fades immediately in the wake of his expression. I slide my hands up and down his chest, feeling the firm muscles, the coarse golden hair, the texture of his nipples. He’s watching me as I caress him. I make my way down to his taut abs and the trail of hair that disappears under the waistband of his boxer briefs.

  His pelvis lifts slightly, and I can see the move is unconscious. An instinctive response to the location of my hands. I poise my palm over the bulge of his erection for a few seconds before I move it back up to his belly.

  He groans as I give him a teasing smile.

  I lean over, my lips moving toward his, until I notice how still he’s grown—almost frozen—and I suddenly realize what I’m doing.

  He doesn’t kiss me on the mouth. Ever.

  So that means I can’t kiss him either.

  I cover quickly by pressing a little kiss on the side of his jaw.

  Then I lower my face so I can kiss his shoulder. Mouth the throbbing pulse in his throat. Kiss a trail down to one of his nipples. He smells cleaner than normal because he showered before bed last night, but his body is heating up, and I catch a whiff of his familiar Travis scent.

  I like it.

  It does something very strange to my female parts.

  “Fuck, Layne,” he mutters, tangling both hands in my loose hair. “You’re killin’ me here. I was already rarin’ to go.”

  I giggle at his choice of words. “Now you know how I feel when you do this to me.”

  “That’s different.”

  “Why?”

  “’Cause it is.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  His eyes transform from laughing to sexy again in an instant. “Take off your shirt, Layne. Then move up here some so I can get you as ready as I am.”

  I respond immediately to the rough edge of his voice. My whole body tenses in excitement. I slowly remove my shirt and then let him pull my body up toward the top of the bed until he can lift his head and reach one of my breasts.

  I feel slightly awkward, helpless, in this position, but it somehow arouses me even more. An ache of need grows between my legs as he suckles and nips, his hands sliding up so he can stroke my naked body.

  “What happened to your underwear?” he asks, letting my breast slide out of his mouth as his hands grip my bare bottom.

  “I took them off. Thought it’d be more convenient this way.”

  He chuckles, and I can feel the vibrations when he takes my breast in his mouth again. “Good thinkin’.”

  It’s not long before I’m whimpering and squirming, arousal hitting me deep and hard. Travis is still working on me with this mouth and also squeezing and stroking my ass, the back of my thighs, between my legs. When I can’t take any more, I straighten up and st
are down at him, flushed and panting.

  He gives me another one of those sexy, entitled smiles. “Looks like you’re ready now.”

  I narrow my eyes. “Sex in the morning must make you smug.”

  He chuckles and helps me as I pull off his underwear. “Don’t pretend you don’t like it.”

  I do like it. My heart is leaping like crazy, and I’m hot and wet between my legs. But I do my best to put on an aloof expression. “That’s just your ego talking.”

  “Is it?” He reaches between my thighs and strokes me open. Then he slides a finger inside me, spilling the moisture there. “Don’t feel like it’s just my ego.”

  I try to hang on to my disdainful look, but I fail completely. His expression is simply irresistible. I shake with amusement and anticipation as I try to line myself up over his hips.

  He helps by holding his erection in position with one hand, and he guides my hips down with his other. Slowly I sheathe the length of him. I’m wet and pliant, and I gasp in pleasure as he gradually fills me up.

  He moans and rolls his hips beneath me. “Fuck, Layne. Oh fuck. You feel so good.”

  I wriggle and brace my hands on his chest. I feel strange on top like this. Being the one in control should make me feel powerful, but I’m oddly vulnerable instead. Like I’m not sure how to move my body.

  “How is it?” he asks thickly, his eyes running up and down from my flushed face to my tousled hair to my bare breasts and stomach. His gaze lands on the spot where we’re joined and lingers.

  “Good. It’s... good.”

  “You don’t like it, and I’ll get on top.”

  “I do like it.” My voice is embarrassingly breathless. “It’s just different. Got to get used to it. How am I supposed to move?”

  “Whatever feels good to you.”

  “Isn’t there a right way to do it?”

  “Course not. Not any rules in this. Just try some stuff out. See what feels good.”

  “But I want it to feel good to you too.”

  He huffs in amusement and rocks his hips. “Layne, I’m inside you, and it don’t get any better’n that. It’s gonna feel good to me. I promise.”

  He means it.

  I’d swear that he means it.

  Emotion and pleasure wash over me.

  I try out a rocking motion, enjoying the tightness, the friction, of his erection inside me. I adjust my angle, leaning forward. Then I lean backward, and I like that even more. I’m conscious of Travis’s eyes on me, never straying from my face and body as I move.

  He’s been holding on to my hips, his fingers pressed into the soft flesh of my bottom, but after a couple of minutes, he moves one hand and fumbles at my pubic hair until he finds my clit and starts massaging it.

  My head falls back, and a long, shameless moan escapes my lips.

  “You like that?” he asks, low and gravelly.

  “Y-yeah. Oh yeah. Keep doing that.”

  My rocking accelerates as he rubs me off, and I’m coming in no time, shuddering through a fast, hard release.

  “That was a nice one,” he murmurs, a smile on his lips. He moves both hands and cups my bare breasts, twirling my nipples with his thumbs.

  “Nice? Is that what you think?” I’ve barely gotten my breath back, but I try for tartness.

  “Sure looked nice.”

  “It felt a lot better than nice,” I admit.

  “Good. Let’s try for more then.”

  I see no reason to object to that plan, so I let him caress me as I rock over him. He fondles my breasts before moving back down to my clit. He rubs me off again, and this time it’s even better. I’m bouncing over him eagerly as my orgasm breaks, and when he keeps rubbing, I keep coming, sloppy and shameless and completely un-self-conscious, even though I know he’s watching the whole time.

  When the pleasure finally works its way through me, I gasp and cling to his shoulders, barely able to hold myself in position.

  “Oh, fuck, Layne.” His voice is strained, and he’s moved his hands back to grip my ass. “You’re so tight now. You feel so... oh fuck.” His hips have been matching my rhythm, but now they start moving on their own. Bucking up into me with an urgency that proves he’s finally losing control.

  “Yeah. Oh yeah. Do it like that. Just like that. Oh God, Travis, I like it like that.” I’m babbling as I arch my back, letting him fuck me from below. I’d normally be embarrassed to be so out of control of my own voice, but I just can’t care about that right now.

  Another climax is building inside me, and something else is happening to my heart.

  Travis is taking what he needs in me right now, and I want to give it to him.

  His fingers dig into my flesh, and his head tosses back and forth on the pillow. “Fuck, Layne. You’re so hot. So good. So good. I ain’t never...”

  I want to hear how he’ll finish that sentence, but he never does. It turns into a helpless groan as his pelvis pumps vigorously.

  I come again, my cry of release trapped in my throat as my body shakes through the pleasure.

  Then he chokes out, “Oh fuck, darlin’. I’m gonna come. Y’need to— I’m gonna—”

  He pulls me up so his erection slips out of me. He grips the base of his shaft with one hand and squeezes himself through his release, spurting semen all over my lower belly.

  I fall down on top of him, and he wraps his arms around me. We lie tangled together like that for a long time, panting and sweating and clinging and wet and sloppy.

  It feels so good.

  So real.

  His arms finally loosen, and I lift myself up.

  We’ve made a real mess. Semen and blood and sweat and who knows what else.

  I moan as I stare at the fluids smeared all over both our naked bodies.

  Travis chuckles. “Made kinda a mess, didn’t we?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Pretty damn good.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ll get us somethin’ to clean up with.”

  “No, you won’t. You have a bad ankle. You’re still going to get coddled. I’ll clean us up.”

  Travis doesn’t argue. And I hear his low, satisfied chuckle as I make my way to the bathroom for a towel.

  HALF AN HOUR LATER, I’m climbing down the cellar ladder to look for something for breakfast. I find a pack of prepper oatmeal that looks like it will taste better than the dehydrated eggs, so I go with it and some raisins and brown sugar to mix into it.

  Travis is in the bathroom, so I put on some water to boil for the oatmeal. I step outside to check the temperature while I wait.

  It’s warm and hazy. Like always.

  My eyes fall on a dog dish on the ground outside the back door.

  I’m still looking at it when Travis opens the door behind me. “Everythin’ okay?”

  “Yeah. I was just looking at that dog dish.”

  Travis limps out to stand beside me. “Fella must’ve had a dog.”

  “Yeah. I know. But look how clean it is. If it’s been sitting out here for so long, it should be covered with dirt. Why is it clean?”

  Travis’s hair is messy, and he needs to shave. He’s pulled on a pair of sweatpants but isn’t wearing any other clothes. “Don’t know.”

  “Do you suppose the dog is still hanging around here and comes over to lick at his bowl?”

  “Long time for a dog to survive on his own. Gotta be six months or a year since that fella out there died.”

  “I know. But dogs are pretty good scavengers, aren’t they? And why else would that dish be so clean?”

  “Guess it’s possible.”

  I make up my mind. “I saw some dog food down in the cellar. I’m going to go get some and fill the bowl. Maybe the poor dog will come back.”

  Travis is gazing down at me with just a hint of a smile on the corners of his lips. I’m not sure why, but his expression makes my heart skip.

  “Guess it’s worth a try. If there is a dog still lurkin’ around, he’s bound to
be half-starved.”

  The water is boiling when we go back inside, so Travis takes care of the oatmeal while I get some dog food out of the cellar. I fill up the bowl outside, looking around at the yard, the workshop, and the trees surrounding the clearing. There’s no sign of any animals at all.

  It’s a long shot that a dog could possibly have survived. Even wild animals have barely scraped by for the past few years.

  But maybe.

  It won’t hurt.

  I leave the food outside as I go back in to eat breakfast with Travis.

  He found some coffee in a cupboard, so it’s a really good morning.

  I SPEND MOST OF THE morning doing our laundry.

  I have to be firm with Travis to get him to elevate his ankle. He wants to help me, but he finally relents when I won’t back down.

  So he lies on the couch with ice on his ankle while I clean our clothes, towels, sleeping bag, and blanket—all of which are in pretty bad shape.

  The house doesn’t have a regular washer and dryer, but it has an old-fashioned wringer washer and a clothesline outside to hang them up. It takes me a long time to wash and hang everything, but I’m pleased when I finally finish. Since it’s warm and not raining, they should dry fine before it gets dark.

  I’m hot and tired and sweating a little when I go back inside to check on Travis.

  He’s still stretched out on the couch, but he’s frowning at me.

  “Don’t whine,” I tell him. “You need to rest your ankle.”

  “Didn’t say a word.”

  “Your expression is whining.”

  “But you’ve been doin’ all the work while I lie here like a lump.”

  “I haven’t been doing that much work.”

  “Yes, you have. Look at you.”

  I glance down at myself. I’m wearing one of the T-shirts and a pair of drawstring shorts from the man who owned the house, and they’re way too big for me. I know I look ridiculous, but I wanted to wash everything that fits me. I made Travis change into the guy’s clothes so I could wash his stuff too.

  “What do you mean, look at me?”

  “You’re all hot and tired. I coulda helped you.” He’s still scowling. He really is in a bad mood about being forced to lie around and rest his ankle.