Sarah
A year later, most of the major TV networks in the Southwest covered the anniversary of the riot at River Oak. They showed the same footage from the prison security cameras, over and over. They recited the same dreary statistics: Twenty-seven inmates killed, along with six guards. They speculated endlessly about what had happened to the two people who were determined to be missing in the wake of the riot—convict Kurt Bellows, and corrections officer Tina Martin, which was now known to be the alias of Sarah Swanson, niece of the alleged president of the Black Dogs motorcycle club.
But in a small house in Nashville—the home of Gray and Christina Hudson, an auto mechanic and a stay-at-home mom, respectively—no one watched this story on the news. No one cared. After all, both of the parents had seen it for themselves, and their four-month-old baby didn't seem interested, either.
And besides, Gray and Elizabeth—“Kurt” and “Sarah” to each other, when they were alone—were keeping busy in plenty of other ways.
For example, at the moment, Kurt was occupying himself by kissing the scar on Sarah's cheek. She loved it when he did that. When she was out in public, most people—especially men—glanced at it and then looked away self-consciously, with a mixture of pity and revulsion in their eyes. But Kurt had told her that he found it sexy. He said it was a constant reminder of how much she loved him, and the fact that they were strong enough to get through anything together.
To Sarah, the strongest reminder of this was the way their crooked noses looked when they nuzzled them together affectionately. Both of the noses had been broken in River Oak, and they lent additional character to the faces they were on.
Kurt and Sarah wrapped themselves around each other in the bed they shared. The scars on their naked bodies seeming to fit together perfectly, like corresponding pieces in a puzzle. The contours of their muscles were highlighted by the golden sunbeams that spilled in through the window, and a light breeze tickled their bodies playfully. Sarah had left the window open on purpose—she knew how the smell of fresh air turned Kurt on.
Their lips were locked together as they shared each other's breath, exchanging it from one mouth to the other slowly and sensually. Their chests were pressed together too, and if Sarah really concentrated, she was sure she could feel their pulses beating in a single rhythm. Two hearts that had finally found perfect harmony in each other.
Kurt cupped one hand behind Sarah's head as the other slid between her smooth thighs. His forefinger rubbed against her clit, and Sarah gasped sharply, smiling. No matter how many times he touched her, it felt like the first time.
No. Better. Because this was so much more than some sweaty, confused encounter in a dirty public bathroom. This was the promise of forever, of basking in the glow of another person's love from now until the sun went cold.
This was everything she'd ever wanted, and it was finally hers.
Kurt continued to touch her, delicately stroking the lips of her pussy and enjoying the way her body twitched with pleasure.
“I love the way you touch me,” she whispered in his ear.
“I love touching you,” he replied. “When I was cuffed to the bed in the infirmary, this was just one of the things I thought about doing to you.”
Sarah laughed. “I don't know—it was kind of nice having you handcuffed and unable to move while I had my way with you.”
“I guess I know what to get you for Christmas now,” he chuckled, kissing her behind her ear.
“Shhh. Just keep touching me.”
Kurt's fingers were slick with juices as he slipped the first two inside her. She let out a long moan, loving the fact that they could take their time with each other now—that they didn't have to worry about being caught and punished for their love.
He re-positioned himself, sliding his body down over the covers until his head was between her legs. He continued to push his fingertips inside of her as his mouth settled over her clit. It throbbed as his sandpapery tongue flicked against it insistently. The feeling of his breath against her was soft and tantalizing, and she felt her thighs close reflexively on the sides of Kurt's head.
She ran her hands through his hair, tugging it gently. Her breath was coming in sharp hisses now, and she wasn't sure how much more she could take.
“Please,” she pleaded. “I need you inside me. Now.”
Kurt scooted up between her legs again, her scent still clinging to his lips as his cock pressed against her gently. He was inside of her a moment later, his mouth caressing the side of her neck while he buried himself deep within her. She felt something light up in the pit of her stomach, a tiny flame that quickly spread through her until her entire body felt consumed by wildfire.
Sarah clung to his body as tightly as she could, holding his torso against hers as her legs wrapped around his hips. Her nails dug into his back and he inhaled sharply, playfully nipping at her neck and shoulder with his teeth. The sounds they made seemed to intertwine into a single passionate voice, crying out over and over.
When they finally came together, it felt like the entire universe beginning and ending, only to begin again in a blinding cosmic blast of form and energy.
Sarah heard the baby crying in the next room. She and Kurt looked at each other, then laughed. Of course their sounds had awakened her from her nap—it wasn't the first time, and it wouldn't be the last. In a minute or two, one of them would rise from the bed, walk into the baby's room, and walk back and forth with her until she went back to sleep.
But for now, they would lie in bed in a tangle of arms and legs, holding each other like two people who'd woken up from the same nightmare—relieved that it was all over, and that the reality of waking could be so sweet in contrast.
THE END
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