Page 33 of Embers

I squeeze my eyes closed because his words are driving me as crazy as his touch.

“Fuck, baby. Oh fuck.”

His shift in tone draws my attention, so I open my eyes again to see what he’s doing. He’s stuffed his other hand down his own pants, and he’s squeezing his cock as he finger fucks me.

“Yeah,” I gasp, the sight of him pushing me closer to orgasm. “Yeah. Yeah. You come too.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, his face twisting and his eyes blazing with need.

“You come… too…” I’m gasping and shuddering now. I’m so close I can almost taste it. “Cal… come with… me.”

I cry out as the exquisite tension finally breaks, but I’m conscious enough to hear him let out a throaty exclamation. His face transforms with deep, hot relief as he comes too.

He comes with me.

When we both collapse back onto the bed afterward, I scoot toward him. He pulls me into his arms, his breath warm and shaky against my hair. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do I.

It doesn’t feel like we need to.

After a few minutes, he starts to pull away, and I grab for him with a mew of objection.

“I’ll be right back. I’m not goin’ anywhere. Just gotta clean up some.”

He came in his pants, I remember. A giggle surprises me.

He gives me a long-suffering look as he drops his legs over the side of the bed. “I’m way too old to lose it that way. Might as well be a horny teenager lately. Guess I got no control when it comes to you.”

I love that idea. It gives me the most intense thrill.

I want him to lose control. I want him to be just as helpless in the face of this thing between us as I am.

I want us to get even closer—as close as two people can be.

I want everything from him, exactly as I told him earlier.

For the first time in all the years I’ve known him, I have real hope that one day it might actually happen.

* * *

The cold snap finally lets up, but it’s more than a month before it’s warm enough to go outside for long periods of time. We fall into a familiar pattern for the rest of the winter. Doing our normal thing during the daylight hours—acting like the partners we’ve been for so long—and then going at it after the sun goes down. Sometimes several times a night.

He’s serious about the just-hands thing. He won’t ever use his mouth on me—not even to kiss me. And intercourse is out of the question. But he eventually lets me touch him, and I have all kinds of fun, learning to bring him to climax with my hands.

It’s not everything I want, but it’s better than I ever imagined it could be. After the empty, lonely autumn and the first half of the winter, being with him this way feels like a miracle.

When March rolls around, we’re running short on our food and supplies. The weather has improved enough for us to go on scavenging trips, so we start traveling around the region again.

Cal is different this year, and not just in the obvious nighttime way.

In previous years, when we were away from home, he was careful to avoid any other people—even the most harmless sort. When we got close to occupied towns, we’d take a long route around them. When we encountered other travelers on the road, we’d either quickly leave the road or scare them off with warning shots. And when there was even the slightest sign that someone was dangerous, he’d shoot first and ask questions later.

So in the years since Derek died, Cal has not just been the only person in my life. He’s also been the only person I’ve seen or talked to.

But he must have been serious about what he said in the winter about finding more folks for me to interact with. He wasn’t just using that idea to push me away. He meant it. Because this spring we start visiting a few of the towns around that have managed to build up their defenses and keep their people safe. He talks to the guards, makes introductions, offers to trade assistance for supplies. We’re comfortable traveling and defending ourselves in a way a lot of others aren’t, so we have a useful service to provide.

Cal is still cautious about who we interact with. He’ll never trust easily. But he’s clearly made a private decision to get us out in the world more so we’re not so isolated.

And the truth is I enjoy it. Meeting new people. Regular, decent people. Doing jobs for those who need the kind of help we can offer. The days pass a lot more quickly since every one is different.

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