Chapter 10
It seemed like she ran forever, further than she had ever thought she could run. All the training her legs had gotten over the years left her agile and athletic, but still, strenuous walking took its toll and her legs were cramping fiercely. She'd lost sight of Jax ages ago, it was only her and the dogs now. Nothing else existed, and nobody else would matter if she was mauled to death, because that would be it; the end of her story.
She didn't know when she had started crying, but it was making her breathe laboriously. She tried to dodge into a tree but failed, and had to keep moving before they caught her. The only reason they hadn't yet was that Jax had distracted them long enough, given them enough distance so that she might have a chance to escape. She wondered if the dogs had killed him, but she couldn't think about that now, not with the adrenaline in her veins, the blood rushing in her ears. She would run now and ask questions later.
And then there was no hope. A wolf, no, it was a husky with wild eyes, but a wolf nonetheless, bared its fangs at her. She thought it drooled rudely onto the forest floor, but it was too dark to be sure. All she saw was the teeth in the moonlight, the pale white fur, the menacing glint in the eyes. And then she saw blood, pooling from its beautiful neck. It fell facedown and she turned, wild-eyed to see Jax bounding toward her, holding her tightly in the darkness, whispering that it was going to be okay now, and they were going to find a place to rest. He would carry her, they would be all right.
They stumbled around in the forest, it was completely uncharted territory for both of them, until they finally stumbled into an old cabin. It smelled awful, like all the other homes did before they were re-inhabited, but they would worry about that later. It was better to be safe from the dog packs out there, certain to be seeking revenge for having one of their own killed.
Jax sat Layne gently on a musty old couch as he searched the house impatiently for supplies. He found the linen closet, changed the sheets on an old bed, checking to make sure it wasn't too moldy, and beckoned her to lay with him. They sank into the bed together, exhausted, and fell asleep before their eyes were fully closed.
***
When they awoke, it was still dark, though it was more obviously morning. They weren't well-rested per se, but they were both used to sleeping in short bursts. Survival was easier that way. She'd heard the term wolf-napping used before by one of the pseudo scientists in her tube, and thought it applied well to their situation. The sudden thought of wolves caused her to sit bolt upright in her bed and pat her shoulder. Her bag was gone. She lost her seeds as the wolves were chasing her. All hope was lost. There was no way she could settle anywhere now.
She closed her eyes and began to grieve in earnest, her sobs stirring Jax from his slumber. He had thought about being a gentleman the night before and sleeping on the couch, but after the close call they'd had, he couldn't bring himself to leave her sight. He sat up, troubled by her disturbance, and touched her shoulder gently.
“It's all right,” he said softly, his voice tired and hoarse. He hadn't had any water for a while.
“No,” she sobbed. “My seeds. My bag is gone. Everything was in there. That was everything...”
He held her tightly but she pushed him away.
“We need to go back,” she demanded.
“We don't need to go back,” he said, still groggy but sitting up.
“What's wrong with you? Of course we need to go back!” She was sitting up, staring at him wildly.
“No, no. I mean of course we would if we needed to but we don't.”
She was about to smack him in earnest when he got up from the bed and trudged to the sofa in the cabin's living room. He came back and plopped her bag down in front of her, then went outside to urinate and stretch. He came in and sipped his water, surprised. Layne was crying again.
“I thought they were gone forever, my hopes...”
“Hey, it's fine. I'll take care of you.”
Jax lowered himself beside her and she threw her arms around him.
“You saved my life last night. You saved my seeds. You're just so...”
He raised his dark eyebrows and pursed his lips as if hoping she wouldn't continue. She laughed, and then her lips were against his, their warmth gripping him hard, taking him by surprise. It awoke something fierce within him, a pent up energy that he'd been ignoring for all these years, utilizing solely for the purpose of survival. She gasped in surprise as he lifted her with all his strength, settling her on his lap where she could feel the manifestation of his desire burning through their clothes. It excited and aroused her, and she pressed herself experimentally against it, flushing slightly when he responded with a kiss on the neck.
He let his hands roam her perfect body, finally allowing himself to take a moment to appreciate it all. It had been right there in front of him all this time, but he had never felt like it was okay to look; like if he did, it would be a blinding siren's call to certain death. Not that she was a siren, it was more like he didn't trust his own mental discipline. But now it was different. They were somewhere safe. It wasn't even light out yet, they had nowhere to be in particular. And everything felt right.
Layne shuddered, the alien feeling of another person's fingertips on her flesh making goosebumps stand out on her arms. The threadlike tendrils of pleasure he wove through her caught her in a web, and even if she tried she wouldn't be able to avoid succumbing to the guilty pleasure of his body. He was a strong man, both in spirit and body, and once upon a time she would have stared at him like he was a piece of meat, imagining what might be going on in his head and assuming there wasn't much else to him than that. But here he was, showering her with gentle kisses, his eyes sharp and senses calculating, doing just so to elicit just such a response, treating her with the curiosity and wonder of a virgin making love to his first girlfriend.
She almost thought him timid, but no, he tore her shirt off after toying with the buttons; licked her clavicle and nibbled her ears as he pushed off his boxers, revealing his swollen member, engorged and more exciting all on its own than any one of her sexual memories. His touch was intoxicating, as if he had waited all his life just to unleash his prowess on one woman, and now that she was there, and they were together, she would receive nothing less than royal treatment.
He was lifting her again, she was floating weightless, helpless, struggling to submit but ultimately losing the battle and happier for it. He kissed her, their tongues dancing in one another's mouths, stoking the fires inside of them until suddenly it was done – he was in her and she was moaning with a pleasure deeper than anything she had ever known. She held tightly to his bronzed shoulders as they kissed and made love, and he uttered appreciative and reverent groans as he thrust slowly and deliberately inside of her, amplifying any pleasure she might feel to incite his own.
He stayed in control so long that she almost thought he was robotic, and then she sucked his neck, licked his earlobes, scratched gently down his back and saw his control waver. His inhibitions rippled away and he was hammering, thrusting harder, deeper, until she buckled against him, screamed in rapture, shuddered and climaxed again and again, until her contractions squeezed him inside of her, eliciting the rupture of his orgasm, filling her with an explosive flood of power. It seized her and would have brought her to her knees if she were standing up, and they collapsed, breathless, onto the bed, curled around each other like pleased kittens, nibbling each other's lips in bliss until they fell back asleep.