Page 99 of Last Light

Desperation changes people. It takes away a lot of what’s good about the world.

I swallow hard and have to swallow again before I can speak. I hadn’t known for sure, but I shouldn’t have hoped for anything else. “I know.” I bury my face against the dog’s neck and shake a few times, but I’m composed when I straighten up.

There aren’t any tears.

“He’s going to wait for us to come back,” I say hoarsely as I drop my hands and stand up.

Travis stands up too. Says with a rasp, “I know he will.”

“We shouldn’t have taken care of him at all if we have to leave him.”

“I know that too.”

My throat aches like a wound as I let the dog inside and follow him. As usual, he curls up in his spot in front of the woodstove—it doesn’t seem to matter to him whether a fire is burning or not.

Travis turned on the water heater in the bathroom before he came outside, so I take one last hot shower, washing and conditioning my hair. I fill up the water heater and turn it on again before I leave the bathroom so Travis can have a shower too.

I comb and braid my hair and climb under the covers on my side of the bed—near the wall—and wait for Travis to join me.

He comes to bed about twenty minutes later.

I scoot over toward him as soon as he gets under the covers, and he rolls me over so he’s between my legs. He kisses my jaw. The pulse in my throat. He slowly unbuttons the oversized shirt I’ve been sleeping in and kisses the skin he reveals.

We normally talk to each other as we have sex, but neither one of us says anything tonight. I still have that lump in my throat, so I’m not sure I’d be capable of speaking anyway.

It doesn’t feel like we need to.

I pull my arms out of my shirt as he suckles at my breasts, and I drag my fingers up his back, from his ass to his shoulder blades. Then I tangle my fingers into his thick, damp hair, gasping when he tugs gently on my nipple with his teeth.

Eventually he kisses his way back up to my neck, sucking on my pulse point. It’s throbbing now. Emotion is stronger inside me than physical arousal, but both of them are filling me, consuming me.

He pulls one of my thighs up so my leg is wrapped around his hips. He’s wearing nothing but his underwear, and he’s hard. Ready already.

He doesn’t feel hot and urgent tonight though.

He feels quiet and needy, like I do.

Deep.

He trails his lips up to my jaw and traces the line of it. He flicks his tongue into the dimple in my chin. He breathes against the skin just to the side of my mouth, and it’s all I can do not to arch my neck and press my mouth against his.

I whimper softly as I tug on his hair.

He ducks his head with a muffled groan and kisses my throat again.

I’m rocking against his weight now, and my hands move down to his butt, sliding under his underwear so I can feel the firm, warm flesh.

He grunts against my skin. Lifts up to yank down his boxer briefs. Settles between my legs and uses his hand to position himself.

Then he’s pushing into me. I wrap my legs around him, hooking my ankles to hold them in place.

I’m wet and pliant but kind of sore from our enthusiasm earlier. I don’t feel like I need to come. I just want to feel him, hold him like this.

Know that he’s with me.

He rocks his hips, sliding his erection inside me. It’s mostly just little pushes, never pulling out very far. He sometimes kisses my neck. Sometimes stares down at me in the dark, breathing against my skin.

“Do you need more’n this?” he asks after a few minutes.

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