I spend the rest of the day watching Seri and wondering who she really is.  I listen to her more carefully than I’ve ever listened to anyone in my life, waiting to sense a change in demeanor, speech patterns, even a single curse word out of her mouth.

Nothing.

She plays with Solo.  She cooks lunch over the fire.  She wraps up in her coat and hands me tools as I dig a bigger hole in the snow just outside the entrance to the cabin.  She speaks casually about what I have in my barn and how long it might be before we could go out there for something other than caribou.

By evening, I’m convinced that I’m that one who is nuts.

Seri has done absolutely nothing out of the ordinary, and I have obviously been making shit up in my head.  Maybe having a second person in the bed is interrupting my sleep, and I’m just generally off.  I really don’t feel much like myself, and her presence here is disruptive to my routine.  It’s making me see and hear things that aren’t actually there.

What if sex with Seri had been my own dream?  Being in the presence of a woman for the first time in forever may be enough to send me into erotic dream overload.  Could it be that Seri doesn’t remember it because it only happened in my own mind?

“You still think we’ll be able to go out to your barn tomorrow?” Seri asks.

“Possibly.  It’s still damn cold but better than it was.  I wish I could get the radio to work to get a forecast, but we’ll just have to wait and see.  At least the sun melted a bit of snow.”

“And there’s a much bigger hole out the front door!”

“That will help.”

Seri sits in my chair and thumbs through one of my books.

“A romance?”  She raises an eyebrow at me.

“Gotta have something interesting to read.”

“You don’t really strike me as the romance novel type,” she says.

“I’m not sure that I am,” I say.  “That one looked like it had a lot of other stuff in it as well.  Did you read the blurb on the back?”

“Yes, it does sound like a good story.  It’s the cover that threw me off.”

“Well, don’t judge a book by its cover and all that.”

“I suppose so.”  She places it back in the stack and picks up another one.  It must grab her interest since she opens up to the first page, and I get Solo’s food ready as he rubs up against my leg.

I sit down on the floor next to the chair, and Solo crawls up into my lap and paws at the bottle.  He nearly pushes it out of my hand trying to eat.

“He’s really a lot stronger than he was when I first found him.”  I rub his belly as he eats.

“I think he’s gotten bigger, too.  Kittens grow pretty fast.  Do you have any idea how old he is?”

“A few weeks, I guess.  I really have no idea.  He was so tiny at first, but now he looks like a regular kitten.  How old are regular kittens?”

“Maybe six or eight weeks?”

“Maybe.”  I turn my attention back to the cat.  He gobbles down dinner but still seems hungry.  I give him some broth Seri made out of caribou scraps, and he sucks that down as well.  “I think he likes the broth you made.”

“If he is at least six weeks, I think he can eat more solid food as well.  Maybe we can cut some up into tiny bits for him and see how he does.  I could mix it in with the broth.”

“Sounds good.”

Seri places the book back on the pile and starts getting food ready for everyone.  When everything is ready, I place a small bowl with the broth and bits of meat in it on the floor.  Solo seems confused at first but eventually sticks his nose in far enough to taste the unfamiliar fare.  Eventually, he’s gobbling down the bits of meat.

“I’d say he must be ready.”  I look over to Seri and smile.

“Maybe wait until after he poops,” Seri says with a laugh.  “I’m a little afraid of what might come out of him!”

“I know what you mean.  I need to find a better way of cleaning out that litter box.”

“Can you flush it down the toilet?” she asks.

“I don’t know.  I try not to flush anything into the septic system that isn’t the usual stuff.  If anything happened down there, I couldn’t fix it until spring.”

“Ew…yeah.  Not worth the risk.”

“Definitely not.”  I collect all the dishes and wash them in the sink.

Seri walks around the four corners of the cabin, looking closely at every inch of space.  There isn’t a lot to look at—it’s not like I’ve put up a lot of artwork or anything.  On the small, circular table next to the chair, she finds a sketch Kirk gave me.

“Did you draw this?”  She holds up a black and white drawing of a zombie-faced Rocky the Squirrel.

“No.  I’m not an artist.”

“Who did?”

“Kirk, the guy who runs that gas station where we met.”

“It’s a little…disturbing.”

“Just a zombie squirrel,” I say with a shrug.  “What’s wrong with that?”

Seri snickers and shakes her head as she replaces the sketch and wanders toward the kitchen area.  She helps me dry and put the dishes away, and then I go to tend to the fire.

I grab the poker and spread out the partially burnt wood at the bottom of the fireplace, then add a couple more logs until it’s blazing again.  I hold my hands out for a moment to warm them.

“It’s so dark out there.”  Seri is still standing in the kitchen, staring out the window.  “It doesn’t feel all that late.”

“It really isn’t.  The sun sets in the afternoon and doesn’t come up again until late morning.”

“How many candles do you go through during the winter?”

“A lot.”  I start to say something about how I’ve been using more candles and kerosene with her here, but I don’t want her to get upset about using up my resources.  I have plenty of both and usually end up with extra at the end of the season.  It just made sense to provide more light inside so she wouldn’t end up tripping over things.

I toss in another log.  The fire is really blazing now, and the heat is intense against my face and chest.  I reach up and pull my shirt over my head, tossing it to one side as I continue to rearrange the logs for optimum performance.

When the fire is both large enough and stacked correctly to burn down smoothly, I stand up and place the fire poker back against the wall.  As I do, Seri comes up behind me and slides her arms around my waist.

“I’m cold, Bishop.  You should warm me up.”

For a moment, I hold my arms away from my body as I look down at the interlocked hands just above the waistline of my jeans, not sure what I am supposed to do.  It’s not a comfortable way to stand, so I place my hands over hers.

“I just added more wood to the fire,” I say.  “If you stand closer or just give it a minute, it will get warmer.”

“That is so not what I meant.”  She laughs as she spins me around by the hips and presses close to me.  “You have to get sick of this shit.”

“Sick of what?”  Her question has caught me off guard, and it takes me a moment to realize she has cursed again.

“Day in and day out, staring at the same four walls, eating the same shit food in front of the same fucking fire.”

I blink several times as I process her words.  The cursing wasn’t just a one-off.  Her eyes are bright with mischief, and her smile isn’t her usual easygoing one.  Her expression isn’t quite maniacal, but it’s close.

“What are you doing?” I ask quietly.

“Seducing you.”  She chuckles again.

I shake my head.  I don’t know how to respond to this, and no amount of opening and closing my mouth brings forth sensible words.  She runs her hands up and down my arms as she stares at my bare chest.

“Nearly perfect,” she says quietly.  “Nearly fucking perfect!”

“Nearly?”  I shiver as her fingertips glide lightly over my side, tickling my skin.

“There’s always room for improvement.”

I swallow.  In the back of my head, there’s a brief memory of strip searches, but the feeling of being evaluated by Seri isn’t quite the same.  It’s more as if I were a male stripper standing next to other male strippers hoping to be chosen for the bachelorette’s party.

“You are so fucking adorable.  Do you know that?”

“I am?”

“Yes, you are.  You walk around like you don’t have any idea how hot you are, showing off all this survival knowledge, and you’re just one step above being a virgin.  That’s fucking hot.”

I open my mouth to respond, but what can I say to that?  My dick is hard, and I’m starting to think all the blood from my head has permanently relocated.  I can’t think straight.

She runs her hands over my bare chest, then up to my shoulders and down my arms.

“I want to know what these hands can do,” she says as she raises her eyebrows at me.

“My hands?”

“Yes, your hands.”

I’ve never been good with vague directions.  My father was very explicit about what he expected to be done and what the punishment would be if the act wasn’t done properly.  When teachers gave overly general instructions, I tended to end up with an F.  Detailed instructions were more my thing, and I wonder if I should ask Seri for a rubric.

“What exactly are you trying to say?”

Seri sighs.

“Yeah.”  I swallow.  “I do.”

“Good boy!”  She grabs my hand and drags me over to the bed.  I stand there like an idiot as she pulls off her clothes and drops them in a heap on the flood.  She crawls onto the bed on all fours, looking at me over her shoulder, and my head is spinning almost as much as it had when I was drunk.

She leans back against the wall with her knees bent, spreads her legs, and then pats her pussy with the palm of her hand.

“Come on, then.”

I nod as I lower my jeans and climb onto the bed in front of her, my heart racing.  This is familiar territory, at least.  Margot taught me well on this front and often complimented me on my ability to read her.

 Starting with her ankles, I slide my hands up her legs slowly.  I gaze at her glistening eyes as I move my hands to the inside of her thighs, pushing her legs a little farther apart.  My thumbs barely graze her as I reach for her stomach, then move back around to the outside of her hips.

“Oh, you’re a tease.”  Her voice is dark as she narrows her eyes at me.  “Better not make me wait too long.”

I raise an eyebrow at her but say nothing.

She shifts her hips a little, and I grab them tighter, holding her still against the mattress.  I feel her ass clench, but she keeps herself motionless as I slide a single finger from her navel downward, grazing her clit.  She tenses again as I pull away and suck two fingers into my mouth.

“Damn.”  She lets out a long breath.

I grin as I release my fingers from my mouth and slide them between her legs.  I hold her hip steady with one hand as I explore her with the other, sliding up and down first and then in an oblong circle.  Every time she twists to get more pressure, I grip her hip harder.  When she finally stays still, I slowly slide one finger inside and then another.

I twist my fingers inside of her, gauging her reaction with every slight change in position.  She’s breathing faster, and her face is flush.  I slide back and forth a few more times before pressing against her clit with my thumb.

She jumps slightly and then settles back down.

“That’s it,” she says.  “Just like that.”

I watch her face closely, assessing her reaction to every touch.  With my free hand, I reach up and stroke her nipples, right and then left.  She arches her back, pressing my hand tightly against her.  I press and circle her clit as she starts to moan.

I want to dive in and taste her, but it’s not what she asked for, so I don’t.

I feel her starting to clamp down on my fingers, and I move slightly faster, still pressing my thumb against her as she cries out and arches again to meet the pressure.  I glance up and see her head thrown back and her eyes closed.  I can’t help but smile slightly.

Seri drops back to the bed, panting.

“Boy, you have some fucking skills!”  She grins at me as she grabs my shoulders and pulls me toward her.  She pushes hard on my right side, tumbling me onto my back.  “Now get those shorts off so I can see that glorious cock of yours.”

I sit up at the edge of the bed to start to push my shorts down my legs, but I guess I’m not fast enough about it.  She grabs the hem, yanks then down my legs, and throws them behind her.  The shorts almost land in the fire, and I have a brief second of panic.

Seri grips my thighs and stares into my eyes with that demented grin.  She licks her lips, and my throat tightens as I realize what she’s about to do.

“Mmm…”  She runs her tongue over me, starting at the base of my cock and then sliding up to the tip.  She doesn’t take me in her mouth but licks back down the other side.  With her free hand, she cups my balls.

“You’d like me to suck you off, wouldn’t you, Bishop?”

“Yes.”  I practically breathe the word and follow it with a gasp.  I stare at her face as she watches me closely, flicking the tip of her tongue along my shaft.

“Well, I’m not going to.”  She smacks me lightly on the thigh as she sits up.  “Get that sexy ass back up on the bed!”

I move back, and she crawls up me, running her hands from my thighs to my chest.  She lowers herself enough that I can feel her heat along my cock, and I remember my previous thoughts.

“I don’t any have condoms,” I tell her.

“So?”

“So…couldn’t you get pregnant?”  She’s so blunt, and though my question is an obvious one, I feel that she’s making me say it.

“Nope.”  She licks her lips and runs her hand over my dick.  “IUD.  It’s fabulous for those unexpected forays into erotic trysts with mountain men in their cabins.  Isn’t that in your romance book?”

“I don’t know—I haven’t read it yet.  I don’t think so.”

“Well, it should be.”  Without another word, she grabs my cock in her hand and lowers herself over me.

“Oh, fuck!  Seri!”

“Bishop!  You dog!”  She laughs and smacks me on the shoulder hard enough for it to sting.  I barely notice as she rocks back and forth, slowing the pace.

“What?”

“You just called me Seri, silly boy.  It’s quite the faux pas to call a woman by the wrong name during sex.”

“Wrong name?”

She leans forward, grabs the hair on the top of my head, and pulls my head back.  She’s holding on by the roots, so the action isn’t painful at all but still takes me by surprise.  I gasp and grab a hold of her hips as she raises herself until I’m almost out of her and then slams down.  I throb inside of her, but she doesn’t fuck me.  She tightens her grip on my hair and leans forward to run her teeth over the skin of my neck.

“Repeat after me,” she says softly into my ear.  “Iris.  I’ve got my cock shoved inside of Iris.”

My throat goes dry, and I can’t swallow.  Iris is the name Seri used for her sister, the wild one with the crazy past who was always getting mixed up in shit.  Iris, the sister whose body washed up on a river bank and whose killer was never caught.  I tense as she tugs at my hair again.

“Iris.”  She hisses the name into my ear.

I’m so lost in sensation, I can’t think straight.  This should bother me.  It should worry me.  I should most likely be afraid for my life, but the warmth and the closeness of being inside of her…it’s too much.  I can’t form a logical thought.

“Iris.”  I gasp again as I squeeze my eyes shut.  “I’ve got my…my cock inside of Iris.”

“Good boy.”

She leans back, places her palms flat against my stomach, and then starts moving up and down.

All I can do is stare up at her as pressure builds inside of me.  My thighs tremble and my ass clenches as she slams me into her over and over again.  She slows until I can catch my breath, and the sensation passes.  Then she starts going again at a furious pace until sweat is pouring from my hairline, down my temples, and onto my neck.

“Jesus…Ser—ugh!  Iris!  Fuck!”  I grab her hips and pull her onto me as I lose control and come with a long groan.

She grinds against me with her eyes closed, sending shockwaves down my cock and into my balls as she tightens around me with a high-pitched, nearly inhuman sound.  She rocks against me a few times and then looks down with wide eyes.  She shifts her weight and climbs off of me, smiling smugly.  I roll over onto my stomach and rest my head on my arms.  I’m breathing so hard, it feels as if my lungs are going to explode.

“That’s my boy,” Iris says as she smacks me on the ass.