by A. M. Geever
Maybe it had taken longer because of Brock. Maybe it would have been like this anyway. Watching her begin to feel comfortable in her own skin again, knowing how comforted she was when he held her hand so she could fall asleep in these weeks since, was the most intimate thing Doug had ever experienced. It was almost as good as those three words and made his hunger to know stronger than the sliver of doubt that he might have misjudged her feelings.
“It’s not okay because that’s not how you treat someone you love.”
Her eyes met his, and he knew that she loved him. He could see it in the kaleidoscope of blue and gold.
“I love you, Skye. And whatever you need to do, I’m with you,” he said, his heart breaking open to the bone-crushing fear of losing her, but also to the strength of his love for her.
Her velvety lips brushed his, her mouth sweet like summer berries, and he fell into her headlong. His lips moved to her jaw, down the silky skin of her neck. She pulled his shirt over his head, her hands hot on his chest, her kiss becoming a demand. He gasped when she ran her hands over his stomach, his muscles rippling with want. With need.
They kissed and tripped their way to her bed, stripping each other of clothes so they could touch skin on skin. She sighed deep in her throat, shivered when his lips and tongue explored the swell of her breasts and his hand found the dark heat between her thighs. She was as soft and warm as he had thought she would be, filled with a fiery passion that left him trembling. Just like she was trembling.
And then she broke their kiss and pushed against his shoulders.
“You have done this before, right?”
Doug’s surprised laughter echoed off the walls. “I’m out of practice,” he said, still laughing. “But prepare to be amazed.”
It was Skye’s turn to laugh before he claimed her mouth again. Everywhere she touched him burst into flames. He sighed when he entered her, whispering her name, the silky embrace of her body beckoning him even closer. Her hooded eyes were soft, shining with love and a happiness he had never seen in them before. Her lips, swollen and pink, the silvery-blond hair that had tumbled across the pillow and tangled in her eyelashes, he wanted all of it. All of her.
“God, I love you,” he said softly, losing himself to the rhythm of lust and love lifting them higher, coiling around them, binding them to one another in the oldest, most primal dance there was.
Her hands twisted in his hair. She kept biting her lower lip, radiating heat, whimpering in time to the joining of their bodies. It made him want her even more. Her eyes locked on his, and he saw everything in them…love, desire, amazement. Or maybe the amazement was his, reflected back in her eyes.
He felt the edge rushing toward him, the point of no return suddenly near.
“I can’t wait much longer,” he said.
Skye nodded, eyes half closed. When she cried out moments later, shuddering beneath him, her nipples hardening against his chest, the connection between them exploded. He let go, falling into the euphoria of their joined bodies that magnified beyond anything Doug had experienced before.
“Holy shit,” Skye said afterward, breathless.
Doug rested his damp forehead on her shoulder, catching his breath. He had never felt anything like it, like they had fused together, indelibly, in a flash of heat and light.
“How did I ever think giving this up was a good idea?”
Skye’s peal of laughter felt like the softest, coziest blanket settling over them. Doug levered back on his elbows, saw the drowsy contentment that suffused her features, softening her smile, and erasing the little anxious line between her eyebrows. He kissed her eyelids and the tip of her nose. Then he kissed her properly—one that ought to curl her toes—before shifting onto his side and pulling her with him.
They lay facing one another, noses almost touching. An uneven, rakish smile arced to the crinkled corners of her eyes.
“If you get any more endearing, my eyes are going to bleed,” he said. Then he grinned like a rogue. “Amazed?”
She laughed again, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “It was a good freshman effort.”
Doug’s smile faded as he studied her face…the swell of her cheek, the curve of her jaw. She was so beautiful, vital and alive. If his worst fears came true, how would he ever live without her?
“I love you,” he said.
Skye’s smile had faded, but not the wonder that shone in her eyes.
“I love you,” she said. “So much.”
He had already seen it in her eyes, in the kaleidoscope of blue and gold, but he hadn’t known how he would feel when she said it. That he could love her even more.
“I’m with you, Skye,” he whispered. “I’m always on your side, no matter what.”
33
“Doug,” a voice said, shaking his shoulder gently.
Doug jerked awake, bolting upright. Panic flooded his brain.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Miranda said, crouching beside him where he sat on the floor beside Skye’s bed. “Nothing, nothing’s changed. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just thought you might want to lie on the cot instead of the floor.”
His back did ache, and his neck felt like someone had twisted it and driven a spike between the top vertebrae of his spine and skull. He had fallen asleep sitting on the floor next to Skye’s bed in the improvised isolation room. Her hand was still in his, hot and damp. Twice her fever had spiked so high that they had to put her in an ice bath, just like they had with Miranda.
She was out again. When she had woken before, she had been delirious, her eyes unfocused before she had lapsed into unconsciousness again. Her face was flushed and sweaty. Her silvery-blond hair stuck to her scalp, its shine gone.
“She wasn’t supposed to get this sick.”
Miranda ran her hand up and down his back. “She hasn’t gotten any worse in the last twenty-four hours, either. She’s going to be okay, Doug.”
“You don’t know that,” he said, shaking his head.
He wished he could believe her. He wished Miranda knew for sure, but he couldn’t bring himself to indulge in magical thinking to that degree. He could extend magical thinking to include prayer to deities and saints that he had no proof were real, but that he believed in all the same. And he had prayed—to God, the Blessed Mother, Jesus, Saints Luke, Jude, Adrian, Sebastian, Rita… He couldn’t remember who else. And to every other god and goddess he could think of.
Miranda’s eyes were full of sympathy, but also hope. She wasn’t putting him on about her belief that Skye would be all right.
“We had five days together.”
“During which you were either conspicuously absent, or the pair of you radiated ‘Just Fucked’ glow so much it was blinding. God’s not so cruel to give you that and snatch it away, not you two. Have a little faith.”
Exasperated, he said, “Really? You’re gonna go there now?”
“Skye’s a fighter. And she has you now. She’s not going anywhere. I am a thousand percent sure about that.”
“I wish I was.”
“They haven’t tied her down. That’s a good sign.”
Doug sighed. Miranda was right. She had not gotten that bad—yet.
“Go lay down. The cot’s just right there. I’ll sit with her and wake you up if anything changes.”
“But—”
“It’s ten feet away. Go.”
Miranda’s eyes said, ‘Don’t make me kick your ass.’ He was not going to win this one. Or at least not now, when he was falling-on-his-face exhausted. He climbed to his feet, the muscles of legs and hips tight. He leaned over the cot and kissed Skye’s hot forehead. Then he whispered in her ear.
“I’ll be just over there. I love you. Keep fighting so I can tell you when you can hear it.”
He straightened up. Miranda pulled him tight in an embrace, then pointed him to the cot. He fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.
Another day in the chair at Skye’s bedside
. People kept insisting he eat and drink, and he had to leave to go to the bathroom… It was maddening. Doug sat as still as he could, his eyes closed, trying to meditate. It was the only thing that half worked at getting his anxiety and fear down to just below complete panic.
“Hey.”
His eyes snapped open. Skye’s eyes were open, too, and looking at him. Her voice had been as soft as a kitten.
“Hey,” he said, leaping forward. Her face was no longer flushed. He felt it with the back of his hand. It was cool and dry, as soft as he remembered. Her fever had broken.
“Oh, thank God,” he said, tears filling his eyes. He kissed her hand and held it to his face. “You’ve been so sick. You scared the shit out of me.” She smiled tiredly as he leaned in to kiss her. “I love you so much.”
“I told you I wasn’t going anywhere.”
He nodded, never so happy in his life to have been proved wrong.
“I’m just going to call River, okay? I love you, Skye. I love you so much.”
Minutes later, Mario stood next to Doug as they watched River examine Skye. Mario’s grin stretched from ear to ear.
“This is great, Doug. This is amazing,” he said. “I am so happy for you two.”
Doug nodded, never taking his eyes from Skye. Word had spread quickly. Alicia joined them right after River arrived. Even her laugh had not been able to penetrate the fog of euphoria and relief swirling around him. Doug glanced at the flash of movement in the corner of his eye. Miranda slipped through the door. She closed in and hugged him, then stepped back, still holding his shoulders.
“I told you.”
She let go of his shoulder, then leaned against him, her arm around his waist. She ignored Mario. Mario’s excitement, which had been so strong Doug could literally feel it sloshing against him, became tempered, replaced by a longing so strong Doug could feel it, too. Something had to be done about these two, but it would have to wait. Right now, the only thing he had time for was Skye.
“You look great,” River said, straightening up. “I mean, you’re great like someone recovering from a terrible case of the flu and pneumonia,” River said, qualifying her earlier statement. “Still a win.”
“Can I please get a shower?” Skye said. “I feel gross, and these sheets are disgusting.”
“That’s because you’ve been sweating all over them,” River said. “We’ll change the sheets, but no shower. Maybe the day after tomorrow—maybe. You can do a sponge bath.” She looked over at Doug and winked. “I’m sure there’s someone here who will be very willing to help you.”
Everyone laughed or snickered, Doug included. Skye’s eyes were already drooping. He could see her fighting to keep them open, like a little kid resisting bedtime. River stepped out the way, and he reclaimed his seat at Skye’s bedside. Skye slipped her hand into his.
“Go to sleep, sweetheart,” he said. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Alicia shrugged. “The teratogen effect seems to be transitory. It was there, especially when her fever spiked, but it’s gone now,” she said, looking from Skye to River. “It’s only a risk if a woman is pregnant.”
Alicia’s looked at Skye again, her face anxious. “You’re positive you’re not pregnant? I know we tested before…”
Doug watched Skye’s lips curve into a smile. “I got my period four days ago.”
“Oh. Well. That’s great,” Alicia said, relief filling her voice.
Relief swept through Doug, too.
“You’ve bounced back much quicker than I expected in just a week,” River said. “I still want you to take it easy for another week, but I am very pleased.”
“I need another blood draw,” Alicia said. “I need to check for the repellant effect.”
A few minutes later, Skye’s blood had been sucked, and they were left to their own devices. Skye wanted to go outside, so they sat on the stoop outside the main door. The macaques chittered, chasing each other.
“There’s Goldie,” Doug said, pointing to the blond macaque that had scampered onto the awning above them. Goldie pulled his lips back, baring his teeth. “See, he always smiles at me.”
“He’s threatening you. You’re not supposed to look them in the eye, Doug,” Skye said. “You’re challenging Goldie’s dominance, and you aren’t even part of the troop’s pecking order.”
“Oh,” Doug said, looking back to Skye. “That explains a lot, actually.”
Skye smiled. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.”
He pulled her closer, going in for a kiss. “Hopefully you will have years to figure it out.”
Their lips were just parting when Doug heard footsteps crunching on the falling-apart sidewalk. Miranda and Anna Smith, LO’s commander, walked toward them. A guy Doug knew only by sight was still in their vehicle, talking with another of the LO security detail.
“Still kissing all the time, I see,” Miranda said, but she grinned at them.
“Yep,” said Doug, squeezing Skye to him tighter. “What are you doing here?”
“Alicia wants another freaking blood sample,” Miranda said. River could have done that, Doug thought. “And they needed a fourth person for the ride. I wasn’t doing anything.”
“You look good, Skye,” Anna said. “I’m glad to see it. I need to check in with Mario and Alicia,” she continued. “Figure out how we’re going to produce this thing, assuming things go better with the others than they did with you. It would be nice if the vaccine didn’t make everyone who receives it deathly ill. And I needed a change of scenery. I don’t know if it’s springtime or something else, but the uptick in dumbassery lately is driving me crazy.”
After they had gone inside, Doug said, “Do you mind if I take some time to talk to Miranda? This thing with her and Mario is ridiculous.”
“Of course not,” Skye said, starting to stand. Doug leaped to his feet to take her hand. She squinted up at him, shielding her eyes from the sun. “You need to stop.”
“Stop what?”
“Hovering. Treating like I’m an invalid. I’m feeling much better. I can stand up on my own.”
As if to prove her point, she stood up unassisted.
“Am I really hovering?”
“Just a little,” she said, spreading her arms wide. “I understand, and it’s very sweet. It really is. Can you please dial it back, just a little bit?”
“Of course,” he said, feeling embarrassed. He had never been accused of being a hoverer before. Then a thought occurred to him. “How much better are you feeling?”
Skye laughed, a flash of desire darkening her eyes. “I should have known. I think something can be arranged.”
Over Skye’s shoulder, Doug saw Miranda push open the door to the BSL-3’s hallway.
“I’ve got incoming,” he said. He stepped in close and kissed her. God, she is nice to kiss, he thought. “I’m going to un-hover you back to your room.”
“I’ll see you later.”
The curve of her lips, the promise and desire in her eyes, made Doug want to take her inside and let Miranda figure out her love life on her own.
“You’re killing me,” he said as the door opened behind her.
“Miranda, hold the door,” Skye said, turning away from him.
After Skye was gone, Miranda said, “Why aren’t you walking her up to her room?”
“I’ve been told I’m hovering, so I am un-hovering her ass up the stairs.”
“Oh. Well, in that case, well done. You better pay attention because you are hitting so far above your weight it’s not funny.”
“Believe me, I know.”
“You’re disgustingly happy. And thank God because the sexual tension was killing us all.”
“You’re scaring me, Miranda,” he said. “I’m not used to almost positive reinforcement from you. Where’s Liley?”
“Left her at LO. Gemma, the little girl next door, was playing with her.”
Leaving Delilah behind was new. It made Doug uncomfo
rtable, though he couldn’t say why. He took her arm and slipped it through his. “Let’s take a walk. It’s a beautiful day.”
She narrowed her eyes at him for a moment, then relented. They started down the path, then cut over in the direction of the pond. It was a beautiful day. Puffy, cumulus clouds sailed across deep blue sky. To the east, the snowcapped peak of Mount Hood towered over the landscape.
Doug walked over to a break in the cattails that edged one side of the pond and sat on the carpet of grass and moss. Miranda sat down next to him, her enthusiasm looking tempered.
“So,” he said. “You. Mario. What gives?”
She sighed, shooting him a filthy look. “I did not come over here for a lecture.”
“And yet you took a walk with me. So spill.”
She wore her annoyance like armor, but he could see past it. She would talk, wanted to talk, but needed a nudge. Maybe a hard one.
“Not a lot gives,” she said.
“Yeah, I know that part. Why are you doing this?”
She sighed and looked away. “Doing what, exactly?”
“Refusing to talk about losing the baby? Ignoring your partner, who is hurting just as much as you are? Acting like everything’s normal while you push him away? I don’t think you’re trying to be an asshole, Miri, but you are succeeding.”
She scowled, then shook her head back and forth, a quarter of an inch at most, while she bit her lip. If the anger Doug saw simmering just below the surface of her skin were a star, it would go supernova any second.
“I’m so angry,” she finally whispered. Tears slipped over the edges of her eyes.
When she didn’t say anything else, Doug ventured, “You have every right to be.”
“No,” she said irritably. “I’m angry at him. I’m so angry at him, and I don’t even know why. And he keeps…pushing. And wanting. He wants more than I’ve got. And I just want to… Mario took everything out of the townhouse,” she said, turning to him, her eyes flashing. “Anything sharp, anything at all! I can’t even put fucking butter on my bread.”
