Mirage of Thunder
Victoria felt the vibration of the big bike travel up her
thighs and into the innermost regions of her belly. The deep rumble in her ears further
intensified the feeling that she and the bike were one being, each needing the other
to act and react. Victoria wanted
nothing more than to exhilarate in the power and speed at her fingertips, savor
the wind whipping her face, the sun burning hot and fiery on her arms, and even
the sting of the sand that blew across the desert highway. She focused on the throttle, her hand firm,
yet relaxed, and kept steadily moving toward her destination.
She had been riding all day in the desert. The last one hundred miles of road was a
forsaken, uninhabited stretch. Unless
one enjoyed being alone, surrounded by nothing but tumbleweeds and a flat,
brown landscape for company, one should have stayed on the main highway instead
of venturing onto this old and broken stretch of pavement. She knew there were some desert dwellers out
here—occasionally she passed narrow, rutted lanes that looked like they led
nowhere. But for now, there was only
Victoria and the deserted highway.
That’s the way she liked it. Victoria liked her solitary travels across
the desert. If she had someplace to be,
she thought, why not get there on her bike.
She was independent, free, and would never bend to the unwritten rules
associated with females and motorcycles.
She would never be anyone’s old lady.
Victoria wasn’t rebellious, nor was she a troublemaker. She didn’t believe she could solely control
her destiny, but she sure wasn’t going to let anyone else control her.
Ah, not long now, Victoria thought as she passed an
ancient and crumbling post that held the remnants of a decaying billboard. Now, knowing she was near, Victoria wanted
nothing more than to stop the bike, wash the dirt and road grime from her
sunburned body, and enjoy that tingling feeling that comes after a long, hard
ride. She wanted to nap for a few hours,
and then, once the moon was high in the sky, continue through the wilderness in
the cool of the night.
Seeing the small building up ahead, she let up on the
throttle and began slowing the Harley in order to look for a smooth place to
exit the pavement. The old, abandoned
gas station stood about fifty yards from the edge of the road. The openings where doors and windows had once
been boarded over, although now most of the boards hung by one nail, or had
fallen away completely, revealing an empty and dark interior. Creepy looking place, Victoria thought.
But Victoria wasn’t concerned with the interior of the
building. She maneuvered the bike past
mounds of rubbish piled where the old gas pumps had once stood, to the back of
the decrepit shack. A smile filled her
face as she stopped the bike and made her observations. Yes, he had been here. Well, she assumed that he was he. Victoria couldn’t
think of another woman that would travel alone in the desert like she did, let
alone maintain a rough campsite in the middle of nowhere.
There wasn’t much to the place, but when you were
crossing the isolated sunbaked terrain and running on fumes by the time you
reached this point, it was an oasis.
Victoria sat for a few moments before getting off the bike. She had killed the motor and lowered the side
stand, but she still felt the rumbling and vibrations. She closed her eyes and removing her hands
from the handlebars, stretched both arms high above her head, and waited for
the tingling to subside. Then she
lowered her arms and hugged herself, breathing deeply of the late evening
desert air. Satisfied with her
accomplishments so far, Victoria got off the bike and looked around.
She headed first to the corner of the building and peered
into what once must have been a storage closet of some sort but was now just a
dark hole with no door, and litter on the floor. After her eyes adjusted to the dimness
inside, Victoria kicked cautiously at the pieces of broken lumber lying on the
floor before stepping inside. Looking
deeper into the small, dark room, Victoria spotted what she was looking for—a
plastic gasoline container in the far corner.
Victoria reached the gas can without stirring up any
critters of any sort and carried it outside to the bike. After placing the spout on the can, she filled
her gas tank, leaving a small bit of gasoline in the can. She returned the container to its spot in the
littered closet, and arranged the debris across the floor again, so it looked
as if she had never been there.
She didn’t know if this was her secret alone, or if
others knew about the Good Samaritan who left the gasoline. Victoria figured that one reason there was
never any other bikes traveling this highway was the lack of available fuel. No matter how liberating a ride down this
highway might have made any rider feel, the stretch was too far to make it on
one tank. She knew she took her chances
each time she made this trek into the desert, but for five years now, the
mysterious benefactor had not failed her.
Returning to the bike, Victoria unfastened the cords
holding the duffel bags on the back.
Removing the smaller bag, she made her way back to the dark closet, and
set it inside the door. The bag was
filled with junk, or treasure, depending on how you looked at it. Victoria figured if you lived in a big
metropolis with stores left and right, it was junk. If you were a nomad of the desert, it was treasure. Nuts, bolts, lights, chrome bits and pieces
picked up here and there, remnants of leather, bandanas and gloves, and
whatever other biker parts would fit in the bag, were stuffed inside. She couldn’t be one hundred percent sure the
gasoline provider was a biker, but she strongly felt that he was.
With the bike taken care of, Victoria could now look
around her little oasis. There was an
open shower, just a pipe with a nozzle at the top, and a raised platform
constructed of 2x4’s to stand on. She
noticed a new, wooden picnic table with attached benches about twenty feet
away, set in a flat area that was clear of large rocks. Good place to put the sleeping bag and grab a
short sleep, Victoria thought. She was tough
but didn’t really care for sleeping on the ground. An open sleeping bag on the ground was an
invitation to share said bag with any desert creature that slithered, hopped or
crawled inside wasn’t her idea of fun.
Grabbing the other duffel and her sleeping bag from the
bike, Victoria carried them to the table.
Unzipping the bag, she reached inside and rummaged through the jumble of
jeans and shirts until her fingers touched the soft leather she sought. She pulled garments from the bag and
carefully spread pants, vest, and jacket on the table, thinking about the
moment she would slip into the supple black garments.
Realizing the sun was much closer to the horizon than it
had been when she arrived, Victoria urged herself to hurry, so she could be
tucked into the sleeping bag when the sun went down. She bent to unlace and remove her dusty boots
and socks, then peeled the faded jeans and t-shirt from her body and tossed
them in a pile on the ground. Her white,
lacey undergarments were added to the pile, looking a bit pure and pristine
among the dirt and grime of the jeans and boots.
Victoria reached into the bag again, this time to get
shampoo and a comb. Her long, dark hair
would take forever to untangle, so with the thought of showering first and
untangling later, she headed for the pipe and platform. Turning the old-fashioned handle, she waited
for the cold rain water from the cistern to hit her. The pipe gurgled and
sputtered for a minute, but then, the pure, sweet, clean water poured from the
showerhead. Surprisingly, it felt warmer than she thought it would, probably
due to having been contained in a metal cistern in the sun all day, and, she
was showering at a time when the air was just beginning to chill for the night.
She felt cooler splatters as the water drops hit the
wooden platform and bounced back upon her bare legs, then shivered as goose
bumps covered her from head to toe. What
would her friends and family say, she mused, if they could see her out here in
the dusky light, naked and showering in the wide open. She smiled to herself at the thought.
Victoria vigorously rubbed at her arms, then crossing her
arms over her breasts, she held her breath and stepped directly under the
spray. Victoria tilted her face up into
the flow of water, letting it wash away the sand and heat and grime of the day,
ending one day, and getting her fresh and new for another. Standing perfectly still, she delighted in
the primitive bathing, and felt totally free, even a little wild and primal.
Turning to let the water flow over her back and buttocks,
she opened her eyes to take in the sweep of the wilderness laid out before
her. The muted and ever-changing colors
in the western sky hinted of a heavy dusk.
The wispy clouds formed patterns in the sky, the colors almost
hypnotizing Victoria as she stood under the flowing water. She breathed deeply and returned to the
process of washing. Washing her hair
quickly with the scented shampoo, she closed her eyes and let her sudsy hands
linger first on the back of her neck, and then drop to cup her full breasts,
her thumbs rubbing each erect nipple for a moment. She tilted her head back slightly, her lips
parted as her pent-up breath escaped, and she gasped in surprise as the water,
which was now not so warm as it was icy, splashed in her face, trickling across
her tongue and cooling her parched throat.
Quickly stepping back under the spray to rinse off,
Victoria was rushing now because the sun was sinking quickly, and the air was
taking on the night chill of the desert.
Victoria was attempting to comb out her tangled hair as
she hopped around to drip dry, since she had no towel. As soon as she was dry enough, she forgot
about the tangles, and moved to the table for her clothes. As she slipped into the soft leather pants,
Victoria thought about her near obsession with leather, and how she loved
wearing it, and nothing else. The
softness against every part of her bare flesh was almost as good as a lover’s
touch against her skin, she imagined. As
far as she was concerned, nothing was closer to pure bliss than riding her
motorcycle wearing nothing but leather.
It felt as if there was nothing between her and the machine, nothing to
interfere with the pulsating feel of the roaring motorcycle.
She sighed deeply, and decided she had better think of
something else, especially if she wanted to get a few hours sleep before continuing
her journey. Spreading the sleeping bag
on the tabletop first, she then set the vest aside, and slipped her bare arms
into the supple black leather jacket and pulled it close around her without
zipping it. This is perfect, she thought
as she sat on the edge of the table, with her feet dangling off the end.
Victoria watched the remains of the sun disappear behind
the western horizon, and felt the temperature drop with every inch the sun
dropped. The small foothills that met
the sky in the west had a pink glow behind them. Knowing that pink was very soothing, Victoria
made the best of it, and watched until the glow faded, and she could barely
discern the outline of the foothills.
Preparing to lay back on the sleeping bag and close her
eyes, Victoria took one last look around.
The bike was parked securely out of sight behind the old store, not that
anyone would be along to see it. The
table was not visible from the road, she knew, because she had not noticed it
until she had ridden around to the back of the building.
Spotting her pile of dirty clothes on the ground,
Victoria decided she had better gather them up so nothing would decide to make
a home there for the night. She eased off
the table, setting a bare foot on the ground.
As soon as she did, she sensed it.
There was a quivering, a low vibration from far
away. She stepped back upon the
bench. Nothing. Was she imagining things? This time she placed both bare feet on the
ground. Yes, there it was, a pulsating
beat, coming up from the earth. She took
a few steps. Turning, Victoria looked in
all directions. There was nothing. Nothing but the odd way the moonlight made
illuminations and shadows on the tumbleweeds, and the way the desert floor
looked even flatter in the moonlight.
Suddenly the thunder coming from the ground was stronger,
and she turned toward the road leading from the west. She felt it before she saw it. Him.
She knew it was him. She didn’t
know how she knew, but she did. She felt
it. Just as he had known she was coming
and had the place ready for her. She
knew. She listened, straining to see,
but could see nothing. Still staring
intently at the highway, Victoria concentrated on the feeling emanating from
the ground, and the sound. Steady,
strong, rumbling, pulsating. It didn’t
waver. It was constant, like the simple
beating of a heart, never changing tempo.
There. There it
was. He must be near the old
signpost. There was a slowing, and the
sound of the bike downshifting. The she
saw the light. It seemed to appear out
of nowhere. The light was bright, yet
appeared diffused, with a halo effect, reminding Victoria of how the moon looks
before an evening rainfall, with a halo surrounding it.
Wondering how she had felt, and then heard, what must be
a big, monstrous machine, before she ever saw the headlight, Victoria wasn’t
frightened as she stood there on the cool ground, waiting. She knew he would come. She didn’t know what he would be like and
didn’t even wonder. She zipped the jacket, put her hands in the pockets, and
stood still, waiting for him.
He turned off the road and drove around back much more
quickly and sure of himself than Victoria had been earlier. The moonlight flashed off the chrome of his
bike as he brought it to a stop. Not
hurrying, he swung his long, lean leg over the bike, removed an old, worn
jacket, and laid it across the seat of the bike, and turned to Victoria.
Not knowing what to expect, she didn’t say a word. She stood without moving and waited. Although she wanted to look at the bike more
closely to see if she recognized any of the parts on it as anything she had
left on one of her prior visits, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from his
face. From her brief glimpse, she could
tell that it was a man’s bike, customized to a degree that it was truly
unique. His and his alone. She would be willing to bet that no one had
ever ridden that bike but him.
He stopped about ten feet from where Victoria stood and
stared at her for a full minute. He
seemed to be taking in everything about her, from her tumble of dark tangled
hair to the small, bare feet. Victoria’s
fair, sunburned skin and her green eyes were illuminated by the moonlight, and
dressed completely in black, she gave off a rather surreal appearance. This didn’t stop him from looking though.
He continued to visually examine her. Victoria’s face appeared to be
expressionless, except for her eyes, which sparkled in anticipation. Her dark brows above the wide set eyes lifted
only the slightest, a movement that would have been imperceptible if he had not
been staring her right in the face.
Suddenly Victoria was hot inside the jacket, and felt her
skin become damp. She wanted to reach up
and lower the zipper, but she couldn’t do that now, surely not with him
standing right there, so close. How did
he get so close? She didn’t remember him
walking to close the gap between them.
Her pants felt like a second skin, and stuck to her thighs, hiding
nothing. Victoria was not
embarrassed. She was, however, frozen to
the spot and couldn’t move.
He took a step toward her and stopped again. This time it was Victoria’s turn, and she
returned his stare. Victoria prided
herself on always looking to see what is on the inside, and truly believing
that outside beauty was skin deep, and it was the beauty on the inside that
mattered. But what she saw standing
there, right in front of her, merely inches away, was nothing short of what
must be the perfect man.
Looking up, she figured he must be about a handful of
inches over six feet tall, although she will never know why she was being so
precise right at that very moment. He
was muscular, with very black hair that fell straight, past his shoulders. His golden eyes were dark and deep set,
reflecting the moonlight. His face too
was dark, smooth and angular, and his mouth was, well, tempting. That was the only word she could think
of—tempting. He was wearing a soft
looking denim shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, jeans and black
boots. His clothes looked new and
clean. Not at all like the desert hermit
that she had halfway been expecting.
Victoria opened her mouth, not to say anything, but just
to breathe. She felt as if she had been
holding her breath for hours, waiting for him, although it was only a few
minutes since she had felt the vibrations, heard the roar, then saw the light,
and waited. He smiled, showing a
mouthful of beautiful, white teeth.
Victoria said a small “thank you” in her thoughts, and smiled back, a
small, tentative, almost smile.
“It’s you.” He
said softly. “Did you find the
gasoline?”
“Y-yes,” Victoria almost stammered. Surely, he didn’t come all the way out here
in the dark just to make sure she had found the gasoline.
“Victoria,” he spoke again, this time with a knowing
glint in his eye.
“How did you….” She started to ask how he knew her name,
but he just shook his head with a smile in his eyes, and a slighter smile on
his tempting mouth.
“You’re just as beautiful as I thought you would
be.” He said, continuing to look her
directly in the eyes. “I’m glad you’re
here.”
Victoria didn’t know how to respond, so she just stood
there, looking back at the beautiful man in the moonlight, and wondering who he
was.
This time, it was Victoria who inched closer to him. She wanted to say something, but absolutely
could not think of anything to say.
Nothing. A first, probably. The longer she stood there before him, the
more she felt her insides melting. She
wondered what it would feel like to be held in those muscular arms and kissed
by those luscious lips. Most of all she
wondered what it would feel like to be possessed completely by this stranger,
who was, moment by moment, feeling less like a stranger.
She also wondered what his name was.
“Sam,” he said. Oh
God, could he read her mind too? How had
he known she was there? Who was this
man? Sam, that’s what he said. Sam.
“Sam,” she repeated.
Why couldn’t she think of anything to say? Suddenly Victoria realized that her arm was
extended toward him, and her hand was resting on his arm, just below his
elbow. His skin felt dry and clean. Come to think of it, his hair was neat, his
clothes weren’t rumpled with travel and heat, and standing this close, she could
even smell the sweetness of his breath. Oh,
thank you God, she thought again.
Victoria started to move her hand from his arm, but he
grabbed her hand in his and held it tight.
He pulled her a step closer, so now they stood, barely touching, looking
at one another, eyes to eyes. Victoria
needed to breathe, she thought, but if she did, the tips of her breasts
straining against the leather would be pressed to the denim of his shirt. She closed her eyes and took the deepest
breath she could.
Never in all her fantasies did Victoria ever imagine
there would be such a man that could arouse her with just a touch. Sam did that.
His touch was like fire, melting her from the inside out. She felt her insides fill with pressure,
desiring release, and wanting Sam to be the one to claim it from her.
He reached around Victoria and pulled her even closer to
him, so that her entire body was now pressed against the length of his. She caught her breath as she realized that he
was aroused also. She wanted to reach
down and place her hand there on the hardness of him but was pinned tight
against him and couldn’t move. Victoria
concentrated on the feeling, and the sensations that Sam was stirring in
her. She felt that she couldn’t be this
close to him for another moment without bursting, yet at the same time, she
wanted to prolong each new sensation he was arousing.
He moved his mouth to her ear lobe, and then to her
neck. She felt his hot tongue trace its
way down to her collarbone, and then to her shoulder beneath the jacket
collar. All that kept Victoria from writhing
in pleasure was the fact that he had her still pinned to him, holding her
tightly with both arms. At that moment,
his grip loosened slightly, just enough for her to wiggle her arms free.
She instinctively reached up and placed her hands behind
his head, in the silkiness of his thick hair, and pulled his face closer to her
own, stopping just before her lips touched his.
Victoria thought she wanted nothing more in this life than his kiss, to
savor his strong, hard mouth with hers, and to taste the very air that he
breathed.
Sam let her want for only a moment longer. He watched through half closed eyes as she
opened her mouth slightly and her tongue darted out to moisten her lower
lip. Breathing deeply, Victoria decided
she had waited enough, and pulled him to her.
He covered her soft lips with his; a kiss so deep, so strong, that
Victoria thought she would drown in it. Somewhere
in the back of her mind, she wondered if this was what it felt like to drown,
to have all your senses consumed in this one sensation.
She felt his tongue again, plunging deeper into her
mouth, taking all she had. Just when she
felt her knees buckle and she felt sure she was going under for the last time,
Victoria felt the warmth of his breath and the cool night air mingle on her wet
lips. He was breathing as hard as she
was, and when she opened her eyes to look at him, his eyes were reflecting the
fire from within her now, instead of the moonlight.
Sam tried to breathe slow and steady as he released
Victoria from his arms. Her hands moved
from his neck, along his shoulders, and down to the fabric of his shirt,
stretched across his broad, muscular chest, feeling for the buttons. With shaking hands, she unbuttoned each one,
pulled the tail from his jeans, and pushed the shirt off his shoulders. As her hand brushed over his tensed shoulder
muscles, she felt a burning sensation, like she had touched something on fire. Victoria leaned close to him, and saw the
tattoo, there on his shoulder. It was a
big cat, black and sleek and wild, crouched and ready, with gleaming golden eyes,
seeming to watch her every move.
Her hands were still trembling as she placed them on his
smooth chest, and slowly moved around to his sides, and then encircled his
waist with her arms. If Sam showed any
surprise at Victoria’s boldness, he didn’t show it. He did let a smile of anticipation show for a
moment, but only for a moment, because when Victoria let go of him and unzipped
her jacket and her breasts spilled out, he didn’t waste a second in reaching
for them with both hands.
Wavering between wanting to watch the moonlight and
shadows play on the curves of her breast and wanting to take one of the hard
nipples between his lips, he let his hands linger for a moment, cupping and
massaging. One long, low groan from
Victoria decided for him. He lowered his
head and let his mouth surround her nipple, using tongue and lips and teeth in
ways Victoria had never fathomed could be possible.
Gasping, she grasped both of Sam’s hands and pulled them
around her, lowering them so she could feel him grip her through the soft
leather, and heard his moan as he realized there was nothing but bare skin
under the leather.
As Sam raised his mouth to hers for another plundering
kiss, Victoria raised one leg to wrap around his, wanting to pull him in and be
as close as she could be to him.
Victoria was taller than most women, standing almost eye to chin with
Sam, so it didn’t take much for him to reach under her behind and lift her up
to press against him. Victoria wrapped
her legs and arms around him and returned the kiss, her tongue probing his
mouth just as his had hers earlier. She
could feel his heart beating as she pressed her breasts against his chest, and
she could swear she felt a rumbling between her thighs as she gripped him
tightly around the hips with her legs.
Victoria ran her hands over his back, feeling muscles as
hard as steel under her exploring hands.
As she threw back her head and gulped for air, his mouth began seeking
out that certain place on her neck that he had discovered only moments
ago. When he kissed that spot, Victoria
wiggled and moaned, nearly falling out of his arms. Sam tried to hold her still with one hand
while pushing her jacket off her shoulder and down one arm with the other. Victoria pulled the jacket completely off and
dropped it to the ground. Still holding
her, Sam let his tongue trail down her throat, then further to where her round
white breasts mounded. Victoria grasped
him by his hair and guided his mouth back, toward the hollow of her
throat. As he nibbled her warm skin, she
buried her face in his hair and breathed deeply, wanting to absorb the very
scent of him.
Sam opened his eyes and exhaled, all the while keeping
Victoria held tight to him. He easily carried
her across the remaining few steps to the table where the sleeping bag was spread
and set her on the table. He only took
his arms from her to remove his shirt completely and drop it to the
ground. Taking off his boots, he tossed
them aside and stepped onto the bench.
He squatted directly in front of Victoria, placing one of her bare feet
on each side of him on the bench. He
reached up to smooth her tangled hair, which was dry by this time, and curling
wildly around her face and shoulders.
The night air was cool, and Victoria could now feel
herself trembling. Not from the cold,
but rather from the powerful heat of him.
She straightened suddenly as she felt a bead of perspiration trickle
down the center of her back to the waistband of her pants. Sensing her discomforting tickle, Sam rubbed
his hands along her arms, and then circled her waist with his palms along her
back. With one hand, he unbuttoned the
silver button at the waistband of her pants and tugged on the zipper. Once loosened, he slipped both hands inside
the waistband, and slid them down her hips.
Once again, he smiled pleasurably as he touched her bare skin underneath
the leather.
Victoria smiled back, her green eyes flashing in the
night. She couldn’t stand without
knocking Sam off the bench, so she shifted backward on the table and brought
her feet up in order to pull off the pants.
Once they were off, and relegated to the end of the table, she wiggled
back to the spot in front of him, again placing a foot on each side of
him. Sam took one more look into
Victoria’s eyes and saw that the invitation her body was sending him was
reflected in her very soul. He wanted
her to desire him as much as he did her, and his lust was fueled even more by
her intensity and her strength. Victoria
gave as much as she took, her body demanding to be satisfied as she offered
herself up completely to him. Sam knew
this; he could feel it in her every touch, from the brush of her lips on his
skin to the trail of her fingertips along his back.
Those fingers now trailed along his chest, leaving goose
bumps wherever she touched. Victoria
slipped the fingers of both hands inside the waistband of his jeans and pulled
him toward her. Her thumbs pressed along
the front of the zipper, and she could feel him straining against the
denim. As soon as Victoria unsnapped the
waistband, the zipper slid open and set him free. She wrapped both hands around him, rubbing
the fiery hot skin and drawing him closer to her.
She tugged again at the jeans, indicating that they
should come completely off. Sam and
Victoria both stood on the bench now, balanced precariously, and she thought
her knees would buckle under her when he reached for her again, this time
pulling her close, bare skin touching everywhere possible. When she could tolerate it no longer,
Victoria sank to the softness of the sleeping bag, pulling him down beside her. Sam stroked her from head to toe, relishing
the feel of her smooth soft skin, and marveling at the way she quivered when he
touched her.
He wanted her now.
He didn’t feel he could wait a minute longer. But Sam knew he would wait until she was
ready for him, savoring every second until that time. Victoria wiggled again, eliciting more low
moans from Sam. Then she felt his silky
hair fall across her breasts as he moved, placing kisses over her breasts,
trailing his tongue down her belly, past her belly button, and not stopping
until he had buried his face in the wet softness there, moans escaping between
the licks and kisses.
Victoria
wanted to reach for the strands of his jet-black hair that lay across her, to
feel them between her fingers, and even wanted to taste the silky texture. But every thought she had was obliterated
when she felt his tongue probe the warm wet folds of her, reaching inside to
touch the very spirit of what made her Victoria, making her cry out in the
night, the primal sound reaching across the depths of the dark desertscape in
all directions. He didn’t stop, but kept
probing, lost in the exploration as she writhed beneath him.
Victoria
leaned back on her elbows with her head thrown back. Her eyes were closed, the moonlight illuminating
the rapturous look on her face. She
cried out again as she felt her insides give way and her body arched and
shuddered, echoing the rhythmic pulses from within her. Breathing hard and fast, she felt the
contrast of the now cold desert air she was gulping in and the fiery hot touch
as Sam consumed her. Consumed her, body
and soul.
Just
as she thought she couldn’t take anymore, Sam moved to her side and lay on his
back, and with both hands reached over and pulled her up, literally lifting her
from the tabletop and placing her, straddling him, easily, gently, directly, on
top of him.
She
took him in one motion, gasping again at this new feel of him deep inside
her. Victoria felt her insides
contracting again, and she felt lightheaded for a few seconds. Opening her eyes wide, she found Sam’s eyes
penetrating her with such a fervor and desperation, she willed herself to
engulf him completely, to bring him inside her and keep him there forever. For a moment, as she pinned him close with
her knees, she felt the same vibration she had when riding her bike, and she
felt the same hard steel of the big machine between her legs, only in an
organic manner now, at this moment. She
was under his control, yet at the same time she was as free as the wind.
Victoria
felt a gentle tug as Sam buried his fist in the curls at the back of her head,
as if he were holding on to something he wanted to never escape. He pulled her toward him, and she kissed his
mouth fully and deeply, without reserve, feeling his tongue and teeth, biting
his lip as she felt him push deeper within her.
Victoria
moved slowly at first, and then faster and even more vigorously when Sam
reached behind her and lifted her again, ever so slightly. Never leaving her,
he stretched her out and rolled her over.
She could see the full moon hanging in the black night over his shoulder
as he moved over her. She wrapped her
legs around his waist to pull him closer to her. Her hands grasped for his shoulders; her palm
feeling heat when she touched the tattoo.
Even though Victoria was flat on her back, she felt as though she had to
hang on for dear life.
Victoria
felt the ground disappear from beneath her, and points of light from somewhere
in the black sky rushed to meet her as she was transported from an earthly
being to a spirit, soaring through the wind in the black night, hanging
on. She could feel the heated thrusts in
her body pushing her further and further into the sparkling black void of
space. She held on, pulling Sam to her,
with her, on the journey, the fantastic journey, trying to memorize every
movement, every sensation.
She
was still soaring when she felt his warm hand on her face, willing her to open
her eyes and look at him. As Victoria
opened her eyes and looked into his, she felt their souls bond in an ethereal
union, forever to be a part of each other.
She parted her lips with only the slightest of smiles, needing to let
him know that she had felt it, and she understood.
At
that same moment, she felt him take one last plunge deep within her and heard
the rumble in his throat as he groaned long, and low, almost a growl. She saw his eyes darken to an even deeper
black as she felt his essence flow, wildly, from him and into her. Victoria lifted her mouth to his, wanting to
devour each and every moment and keep it with her for eternity.
She
listened now, heard his breathing slow, and reached up to touch the glistening
skin of his chest, arms and shoulders.
Sam seemed to come back to reality then, and smiled a slow, lazy smile
as he gathered her in his arms and turned her so that her back was pressed up
against him. They lay still for several
minutes, wrapped in a cocoon of desert air, breathing in unison, his arms never
leaving her. Victoria almost felt as if
she would purr in contentment as Sam pulled the sleeping bag up to cover them
both.
His
voice was low and deep and soft when he spoke.
“See the stars on either side of the moon?” He lifted her hand with his, pointing to the
bright points of light in the blackness of the sky on each side of the
moon. “The legend of the ancient people
who lived here tells their story.” Keeping
his hand in hers and bringing both up under her chin, he continued. “The twinkling lights in the sky are the
spirits of beings no longer of this earth.
They have left the earth and travel the night sky. On nights when there is no moon, or a new moon,
one can see the spirits scattered across the sky, constantly moving, searching. They search for their mate.”
Sam
paused, and leaned to place a tender, warm kiss on Victoria’s head. “When the moon is full, as tonight, the
spirits unite with their eternal spirit mate.
They hide in the dark and shadows as long as they can, for when the moon
begins to wan, they must again roam the sky.
The two you see tonight, Teyla and Jolinar, go centuries without finding
each other, even for the night allowed them.
They were cursed, doomed to wander for decades, even centuries, alone on
either side of the moon. Legend says
that in life they were stubborn, refusing to take what was handed them in their
lifetime, refusing to find love when love found them. Instead, they were constantly looking for
something that wasn’t there for them to find.”
Victoria
turned within the circle of his arms to face Sam. “How beautiful, and how sad,” she said,
watching the moon in his eyes.
“Of
course, now we call them Mars and Venus, and we see them because they can
outshine all the stars, even during a full moon.” Sam didn’t take his eyes off Victoria as he
spoke.
“I’ll
always find you Victoria, and I won’t need a full moon.”
She
looked at him, and although she knew he would leave soon, she felt peace and
contentment. Victoria felt as if this
one night could last a lifetime. An
eternity, if necessary. They were spirit
mates; they would find each other again.
With that thought, Victoria moved closer to Sam and laid her head in the
crook of his arm stretching and curling, feline like, closed her eyes, and
drifted off to a peaceful sleep. She
knew Sam was awake, watching over her, and watching the moon start its descent
across the sky.
She
didn’t know when he moved from the sleeping bag and zipped it up tightly around
her. The first rays of dawn were creeping
over the horizon when she opened her eyes.
Where he had been beside her, there was now her pile of clothing that
had been tossed to the ground earlier.
Victoria sat up, feeling the cool morning air creep down inside the
sleeping bag and touch her bare skin.
Blinking to clear her vision, she looked toward the decrepit
building. One bike was parked
there—hers.
Something
compelled her to jump out of the sleeping bag and to the ground. Yes, she felt it. There it was.
The quaking and vibration of the ground beneath her feet sent a
trembling all the way through her. She
pressed her palms together and felt the trembling there as she strained to look
down the highway. She saw it only
briefly, only for a glimpse, on the eastbound highway, heading into the
sunrise—a glint of sun on metal as it moved quickly toward the horizon. She
watched it, and then it was gone, just as suddenly as she had seen it. She thought she saw something move there, but
it wasn’t speeding along the highway, and it wasn’t gleaming in the sunlight.
He
was gone. Even knowing that, she felt a
peace, and a fulfillment. Feeling a
tingle at the hollow of her throat, Victoria closed her eyes and reached up to
touch the spot he had kissed throughout the night. She was surprised when her fingers touched
softly braided leather. She felt the
piece—felt braided leather and metal beads.
The necklace was tied loosely around her neck and the dangling leather
ends tickled her back. Victoria walked
over to her bike and looked at her reflection in the mirror. The necklace was beautiful. The leather was perfectly braided into a
wide, flat braid, with tiny silver beads placed randomly around the length of
it. In the very center, there was
tucked, among the braiding, a small, jet-black feather. Upon closer inspection, she saw that it
wasn’t a feather at all, but silk, very intricately woven into the braiding of
the necklace. It looked like silk, but
Victoria new it wasn’t, she knew it was hair.
Long, straight, silky, black hair.
Her
treasure.
Chilled
now, she walked back to the table, slipped into the leather clothes. She found a brush and brushed out her
hair. Victoria started to reach for a leather
tie, but decided to leave it loose and flowing around her face. After rolling up the sleeping bag and
securing the bag on the back of her bike, Victoria straddled the seat and
turned the key. She listened to the
rumble, letting the engine warm for a few minutes, then shifted into first and
turned the throttle and headed out onto the highway. She turned east on the desert road, squinting
against the bright, white morning sun.
Victoria
saw a movement at the roadside up ahead, close to where she thought she had
seen the gleaming chrome earlier. She
slowed just a bit, looking into the brown landscape. When she saw the sleek black cat, wild and
beautiful, crouching by the roadside, she wasn’t surprised. She wasn’t frightened either. The cat watched her, without making a move,
its golden eyes never wavering or blinking.
Victoria returned her eyes to the road ahead and looked into the
rearview mirror. The space where the cat
had been was now empty. Victoria turned
her head to look back but saw nothing.
She
thought of Sam. She felt the evidence of
him still within her, his touch still on her skin and the heat of him still
within her. As the bike roared beneath
her, she could feel his touch, and trembled throughout. Was he real?
She closed her eyes for a moment and could see his lean bronze face
before her, could feel the silkiness of his hair in her hands and the heat of
his eyes as he looked into the very depths of her. But where was he? Was he a mirage? Or a spirit, a point of light waiting to
connect with his soul mate?
Victoria
rolled the throttle a little harder, picking up speed. With her left hand reached up to her neck to
touch the soft leather braid. The
necklace warmed her skin, perhaps the very same way a pinpoint of starlight
warmed the night sky. Victoria smiled as
she sped off into the sunrise.
THE
END
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