Page 15 of My Apocalypse Cowboy
"Faster," he growls.
I pick up the pace, riding him hard while he watches with dark hungry eyes. When his thumb finds my clit again, I'm already close.
"Come on my cock," he demands. "Let me see you fall apart."
I do. The orgasm hits even harder than the first, and I feel him swell inside me before he follows.
The world may be going to hell, but at least sex is still great.
six
Rebecca
IwakeuptoJoseph shaking my shoulder, his face grim in the pre-dawn darkness.
"Rebecca. We've got a problem."
I'm instantly alert, three years of survival instincts kicking in. "Raiders?"
"No. Sunshine."
My blood turns to ice. I throw on clothes and follow him to the barn, where our beautiful chestnut mare is lying on her side, clearly in distress. Her breathing is labored, sweat darkening her coat, and she keeps looking at her flank with that expression horses get when something's seriously wrong.
"How long has she been like this?" I ask, already dropping to my knees beside her.
"Found her twenty minutes ago. She was fine last night."
I run my hands over her body, checking for injury, feeling for heat or swelling. My veterinary training kicks in automaticallyto assess the symptoms, consider the possibilities, form a diagnosis.
"It's colic," I say, my heart sinking. "Bad colic."
Joseph's face goes pale. "How bad?"
"I don't know yet. Could be a blockage that will resolve with treatment. Could be a twisted gut that..." I trail off, not wanting to voice the worst-case scenario.
"What do we do?"
"First, we get her up. She can't lie down or she might twist her intestines worse." I move to Sunshine's head, talking to her in soothing tones. "Come on, girl. I know you feel terrible, but you need to stand."
It takes both of us to get her on her feet, and once she's up, she immediately wants to lie back down. Joseph holds her lead rope while I examine her more thoroughly.
"Gums are pale, heart rate's fast." I press my ear to her flank, listening. "I can barely hear any gut sounds."
"In English?"
"Her intestines aren't working properly. Everything's backing up, causing pain." I stand, wiping sweat from my forehead. "We need to keep her walking and try to get things moving again."
"Surgery we can't do."
"Surgery we can't do," I confirm grimly.
The next few hours are a nightmare of constant walking. We take turns leading Sunshine around the paddock, not letting her rest, not letting her roll or lie down no matter how much she wants to. I force mineral oil down her throat through a tube I improvise from supplies in Joseph's workshop. Every few minutes, I check her vital signs, looking for improvement.
There isn't any.
By noon, she's worse. Her pain is increasing, and I can see Joseph's growing desperation every time he looks at her.
"Rebecca," he says quietly when we switch positions. "Tell me the truth. Is she going to make it?"
