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watching the moonrise.
    She breathed
more slowly. Panic left her.
    Okay,
okay, I get it. They never go away.
    He didn’t
move. He said, Have you ever wondered
what my gallery might look like?
    No. Aren’t you cold? she said.
    He didn’t
answer.
    Her body
steamed. She took a step forward on the verandah. Snow melted under her foot.
    He didn’t turn
when she slid her arms around him, but his shivering stopped.
    She touched
the front of her burning body to his back. His flesh felt chilled through.
Pulling him back against her, she tried to pour her heat into him. She stroked
his face and down over his cold, bare body. When her hands reached his groin,
she found all his heat.
    He knelt, and
she knelt with him, never letting go. Side by side they lay on the cold stone,
the snow going to puddles under them, and she stroked him and pulled him warm.
When she thought he would climax, he turned in her arms. Finally. She was aching for penetration. But he rolled over her
until she was spooned, her back to his hot chest, looking out on the frozen
lake, and he worked her with his hands while his schlong branded her back like
a hot poker and the moon rose higher. His fingers dipped into her, penetrating,
teasing, withdrawing, and extra hands tickled her nipples, and his teeth
nibbled both her earlobes at once and his tongues licked into the hollow of her
collarbone. She squirmed, no, please,
please fuck me, and he flicked her clit with his thumb in a slow rhythm
that made her arch like a fish. The moon seemed to swoop down out of the starry
sky.
    Now, for God’s sake! Her eyes closed.
    And in he
came, long, thick, impossibly long, because he must be bending clear underneath
her bottom, his chest pressed against her back.
    With that deep
penetration she heard a crackle like thunder. Her eyes flew open. The sky was
sapphire clear. The moon pulled at her blood.
    Please, she begged.
    One more time,
he did the impossible. Inside her his cock swelled, moving ever so slightly,
not hard enough, not far enough. She arched again, squirming
against his belly, whining. Then he shrank a bit, oh, God, no. Then his cock swelled. And shrank. She felt herself
stretching, felt the blood pulse in her temples, felt her eardrums pop, as he
pulsed larger and smaller, beating like a heart inside her, until she tightened
around him.
    Oh boy. Here
it came.
    Just as she
was about to beg, his hot hand settled over her mound. A clever finger pressed
down on her trigger.
    She spasmed.
His cock pulsed inside her. Thunder crackled, and a hundred miles of frozen
lake convulsed, sending shards of ice high into the air, then falling, and
frozen moonlight melted in slivers all over her thawing heart.
    o0o
    Afterward
Jewel lay on her back, feeling the throbbing sink and fade while sweat dried on
her skin.
    Randy seemed
asleep.
    Reluctantly,
she thought about his suggestion.
    Was that
really why she’d started her rowdy college fuck-a-thon? Because Liddy had died,
abandoned her, just like her parents and her grandparents? Would she have
horndogged through the past seven years if he hadn’t taken her to bed? If the
family lawyer had been a woman? Would she even have sold the farm?
    Maybe not. She
might at this very moment still be wearing out her strength trying to keep the
damned thing going, her back sore, her hands cracking from the contact with wet
steel and the teets of stupid, needy cows.
    To be fair,
would Liddy have been able to distract her with anything besides sex?
    She smiled at
memory. He was so dry and funny, and he had enjoyed her youth and her smart
mouth so gaily. He took this shell-shocked kid and coaxed her back into her
humanity.
    Randy spoke
critically of a “price.”
    But Liddy
hadn’t made it seem like payment. He’d reminded her how to be alive. He taught
her to feel her own pulse pounding and the sap rising in her veins. He’d told
her to live gratefully.
    Don’t you ever do it for anything but
the joy, my girl, Liddy
had said. The world