Bliss (38 page)

Hunter and Xavier walked into the backyard together, giggling at some shared joke. Lydia came in behind them.
Sinclair embraced her sister, touched her hair and face for
what she felt might be the last time, then greeted her lover
with a fierce hug. Hunter felt her tremble and held on tight,
whispering Sinclair's name. This wouldn't be the last time for
them, she reassured her.

With the fire lit and blazing high, everyone gathered
around laughing and eating. They pulled Sinclair into a circle
of warmth and love. Her father talked to her quietly by the
fire as they watched Nikki and Xavier play, darting through
the trees like moths with the firelight flickering over them.
Soon Della joined their play, then Hunter. Victor laughed,
saying that he didn't know that he'd invited big children to
the cookout, but it was a joy to see them play. Sinclair
wanted to join them, but she couldn't. Her spirit was too
heavy. Lydia and Della circled each other like wary piranhas,
but managed not to shed any blood. Hunter rewarded them
with frequent shouts of her laughter and teasing conversation
that drew everyone in and made them forget about their differences for a while.

People were slow to leave. They ate and played long after
the fire dimmed, moving to the verandah to finish whatever
games they had gotten started. Sinclair drank her carrot juice,
rolled its milky sweetness over her tongue, and watched them.
When it was time to go, she said long goodbyes. She held on
to Della's hand, to Lydia's, and to Hunter's for as long as they let her before they slid beyond the myrtle trees and out the
gate.

After her family retired for the evening, she lingered in
each room, touching everything with her eyes and fingertips,
stretching out the moment before she, too, had to rest. Then,
it was three in the morning. Then four. Then five. Her body
got tired. She climbed into the bed, turned to the cold spot
where she wished Hunter's body was then, finally, drifted
into a light sleep.

nd then there were just two days left. Sinclair sat at the
.Breckenridges' kitchen island on a bar stool, watching
Nikki cook the evening meal.

"For old people, they have a lot of parties up here," Nikki
said. "At least once a month. That's when I have to get at
least two other people to help me with the cooking."

"Do they ever invite you?"

Nikki looked horrified. "No. Why should they?"

A knock sounded on the back door. "Who could that be?
Nobody makes deliveries this late."

"Afternoon, ladies," Hunter called out. Despite her cheerful greeting she looked tense.

"What are you doing here?"

"Coming to see you." She leaned on the kitchen island
next to Sinclair. Up close her body was tension itself, coiled
and waiting for something.

Sinclair touched her arm. "Is anything wrong?"

"Not really, but I'd love for you to come home with me
now.

Sinclair and Nikki exchanged a look. "OK. Let me just get
my bag. I'll meet you outside."

At the Jeep, Sinclair looked at Hunter's tense face again.
"Are you sure that you're all right?" she asked.

"I'm not. But I will be." Her hand curled around Sinclair's. "You have at least two days before you have to go. You can
spend the last day with your family. Today is mine. Yes?"

When Sinclair nodded, Hunter drove them down the hill
to her house. Once there, she pulled Sinclair into her bedroom.
"I love you." She kissed her. "No. Don't say anything."

Her tongue stroked Sinclair to life, pressing her body's
need into hers until Sinclair clung as viciously as Hunter did
to her. She dragged the straps of the tank top down Sinclair's
arms, baring her breasts. Heat slid under Sinclair's skin as
Hunter's mouth claimed her nipples. She pushed Sinclair
against the wall.

"Will you stay?"

Sinclair's body panted and wept yes but it couldn't speak.
Hunter's fingers moved inside her, loving, fucking, shoving
her against the wall and all Sinclair could do was say Hunter's
name as she took what she wanted, what Sinclair wanted her
to take. Her name tumbled from Sinclair's mouth when her
body started to shake, thighs trembling, fingers twisting in the
snaking hair, sweat weeping behind her knees and under her
breasts, down her back, rubbing into the skin over her taut
muscles. Hunter followed her as she slid down the wall, still
pumping her fingers as Sinclair shuddered and came and
screamed her dark goddess's name.

But Hunter wasn't finished. She peeled Sinclair off the
floor and took her to bed, covering Sinclair's body with hers,
washing her with her sweat, her cum, her tongue. Hunter
plunged deep for more milk from her lover's body, squeezing
until Sinclair thought that she had nothing left. She was a
supernova, rawness and pain pushed aside for the rapture
that Hunter's hands brought.

The dark woman pushed into her and Sinclair pushed back,
thighs straining apart so Hunter could take more of her.

"I need you to stay."

Limp. Sinclair was limp when Hunter tied her arms to the
headboard, spread her legs wide and tied them down too.
Her teeth nipped Sinclair's ankles and toes, and the flesh of her legs and thighs. "But if you want to leave me, I'll let go. I
won't make a scene." But she lied. Sinclair was helpless to the
press of Hunter's tongue and fingers inside her, pulling the
trembling out until she flexed taut as a bow.

Sweat bathed her skin, stinging her eyes, salting her lips
and tongue. She wanted to beg, for what, she wasn't quite
sure. But the words kept escaping her, slipping away in the
tides of sensation that buffeted her body.

Hunter's teeth closed on her clit and her slim fingers slid
even deeper into Sinclair's pussy. The whimper caught them
both by surprise. Tingles scuttled under her hair, traveling
down her neck and shoulders, into her hips. The cum shattered her, shrieking through her like pain. Sinclair sobbed.
She fell back to earth, dimly aware of the throbbing ache of
her entire body and her tireless lover licking the sweat from
it. Her eyes closed. An after-shudder rippled through her as
she tried to push Hunter away. But her hand sagged back to
the bed and she fell heavily asleep.

"There's nothing for you in America." Sinclair lay trapped
in an exhausted slumber when she heard Hunter's voice from
far away, she felt the steam of her seducer's breath on her
neck. Like a fish diving into water, Hunter slid into her and
Sinclair rose up from sleep. Her belly pressed against Sinclair's
back, dark hips cupped her ass, a new part of her, hard and
firm, buried inside her. Sinclair clawed at the sheets and arched
her back. Hunter's name left her throat in a long, ragged moan.

She was wet. An ocean, swallowing her, moving beneath
her, with her. "Hunter. . ."

"Stay, Sinclair."

Hunter slid deeper inside, taking her body to a place of fire
and ice. The wave of heat left Sinclair gasping, the cold
clenched her and she sobbed Hunter's name again.

"Stay." Her hand spread under Sinclair's belly, lifting her
up to her knees, until her face was against the pussy-smelling
sheets, her fingers curled into the soft cotton under her. Hunter folded herself over Sinclair's body and pushed into
her. When she touched Sinclair's clit, the flesh beneath hers
shuddered.

"Tell me you'll stay," she groaned into the back of
Sinclair's neck. "I'll do anything you want."

"I-I can't-oh, sh-oh!" Sinclair's world fell to pieces.

When her body quieted, after the shivers of sensation had
bled away, leaving her limp and sated, she opened her eyes to
see Hunter propped up on her elbow watching her.

"I've waited a long time for you," Hunter said. "Some
days I look at you and feel that you're the reason I left
England. It wasn't to find some idealized dream of an island
that I knew less than nothing about. It wasn't even to reconnect with my family. It was to meet and love you." Hunter
traced a pattern in the drying sweat on Sinclair's belly.
"Don't say anything. I just wanted to tell you that before you
left."

Sinclair couldn't speak. Tears leaked from her eyes and ran
down into her hair. No one except her Gran had ever made
her feel this special, this essential to happiness. She needed
Hunter, too, more than even she could understand. Her bones
ached for the dark woman. And she was terrified. Sinclair
had trusted Regina and even started to love her. That betrayal had been as painful as it was unexpected. What she felt
for Regina then was like a pebble compared to this avalanche
of emotion roiling through her. Sinclair knew that she would
break if Hunter abandoned her. And because that made no
sense, she cried.

Hunter brought her breakfast in bed. "I'm sorry about last
night. I wasn't quite thinking." She saw the look on Sinclair's
face. "Not about the sex, I loved fucking you. I loved the way
you called my name." A rueful smile shaped her mouth. "I am
sorry about asking you to stay. That was out of line. I won't
do it again."

She fed Sinclair sliced mangoes from her hand, and eggs
and toast and cherries. "After your shower I'll take you back
home."

Sinclair didn't know quite what to say. Her body was exhausted. She hadn't gotten more than two hours of sleep and
her thoughts were sluggish. Yet she was alert enough to realize that today was her last day on the island and she needed
to spend it with her family. "All right. Let me ... let me get
started." Sinclair stood up. "Come. Shower with me."

They undressed and climbed into the tub together, shrouded
in silence and the heavy sadness of Sinclair's leaving. The
shower spit and hissed as Hunter turned it on. She soaped
her washrag and bathed Sinclair's body, taking every opportunity to show how much she would miss her. Only after the
lukewarm water sluiced the suds from Sinclair's body did
Hunter speak.

"You already know how I feel about you," she said. "If it's
that real for you, too, then come back to me. If it's not, then
don't fuck with me. Don't call or promise to write, and please
don't send me any of those insipid `wish you were here' postcards."

Beneath the rain from the shower's nozzle, Sinclair promised,
kissed her lover, blessed Hunter's skin with her hands, and
promised.

ook at the sky juice man." Xavier piped up from the
ibackseat of the Honda. "Can I have some sky juice?"

"Not now, baby. We have to get to the airport." Nikki
rubbed the back of her son's neck.

Sinclair's mouth suddenly felt dry, longing for a taste of the
syrupy bag juice with its crushed ice. Banana was her favorite
flavor. Sinclair remembered, as a child, curling her tongue
around the cool plastic straw as she sucked for as long as she
could without taking a breath.

"That sure would feel good in this heat though," Sinclair
murmured, meeting Xavier's eyes in the rearview mirror. The
boy grinned. "The plane isn't supposed to take off for another three hours. We should have enough time."

Her father pulled the car over before the last word left her
mouth. Xavier started hopping up and down in the backseat, while Nikki just looked pleased. They parked the car on
the shoulder of the perfectly paved road, the sort of road that
was rare up where they lived, and locked it.

"'Afternoon." Victor greeted the old man with the grayflecked beard and oversized hat sitting on top of his thick,
knee-length dreadlocks.

"'Afternoon, brethren. What can I get for you today?"

"Four bags of sky juice." He looked at his family. "Pick
your flavors."

Back in the car, they all sucked quietly on their straws,
while Sinclair told the story of the first time she had sky juice.
Her father chimed in, too, because he had been there to buy
it. He bought the second one, too, after she dropped the first
one on the ground and started crying as if she'd just lost her
best friend. Nikki laughed until she snorted and juice sprayed
out of her nose, hitting her giggling son in the face.