Krysty swam to him. “It’s not so deep over here, lover. Want to join me?” Her smile made promises.
Ryan went with her willingly. From what he could see, the pool went mostly straight down to where it probably joined with an underground stream.
“Now we’re alone,” Krysty reached out for him and pulled him in. Her breasts were only partially submerged and looked like pale globes in the blue water. Her pink nipples were high and tight.
Ryan took her into his arms and pulled her close. They stood in what felt like loose sand. She kissed him hotly, and he could feel the need on fire inside her, matching his own.
“Next time,” Krysty said, “we’ll go slower, but for now I want you inside me.” She broke the embrace and pulled him toward the bank. They were on the other side of the pool. “Since I found this spot, I’ve been thinking about this.”
At the edge of the pool, the water was only a little above knee-high. The air felt cooler now that he was outside the water, but just enough to prickle Ryan’s skin without becoming uncomfortable.
Krysty pulled him against her, leaving her back to his front. Ryan felt his erection slide through her parted thighs, gliding against her skin. He pumped slowly, teasing her by letting his cock rub across the lips of her vagina without penetrating. He cupped her breasts in his hands and squeezed them with just the right amount of pressure as he nibbled the back of her neck.
Krysty moaned in pleasure, pressing into him with her hips. “Don’t wait.” She freed his hands from her breasts and bent forward, resting her upper body on the stone bank. “Now.”
Ryan moved into her, thrusting forward, sinking his length into her, Krysty meeting him stroke for delicious stroke.
Ryan’s orgasm welled up in him, and he held it back as long as he could. But Krysty had to have felt it, too, because she redoubled her efforts. Then he felt her inner contractions, and he exploded, filling her.
They stood there on trembling legs, their passion finally spent.
It wasn’t until the second shot sounded that Ryan was certain that he was still hearing the echoes of the first.
MILDRED SAT in the tall grass on the mountainside and watched Jak work. At least, she tried to. The albino, however, was as elusive as smoke.
She wore the coat she’d taken from the redoubt and wrapped her arms around her knees. It wasn’t too cold, but she hadn’t quite brushed off the chill she’d gotten from rereading sections of the journal she’d found. Drake Burroughs, U.S. Army, was one sick, crazy bastard. That was her professional opinion, as well as personal one.
She was glad to be shut of him and hoped it stayed that way.
Down the mountainside a deer appeared only a few feet from the tree Jak had climbed into. He’d positioned himself over a watering hole formed in a depression in the mountain stone. Hoof prints and paw prints had offered mute testimony to the fact that it was frequented by the local wildlife.
The deer was a male, showing an impressive rack as he raised his head, scenting the air, then moving in a little closer.
Mildred watched tensely, hugging herself. She’d never really favored deer hunting back in the twentieth century. But then a lot of hunters had stalked deer for trophies. Jak was hunting this one to feed them. It meant survival.
The deer walked to the edge of the pool and froze, head cocked as he listened.
Mildred’s breath was tight in her lungs as she watched. All morning long she’d read of the murders committed by Burroughs and his people in the redoubt. Toward the end there’d been mass executions until Burroughs had reduced the populace of the complex to a number he could easily control.
Watching the sleek animal drop his muzzle to the water and start to drink, she found that part of her wanted to scare it away, but the realistic part knew and accepted what had to be done.
Jak dropped from the tree like a cat. One gleaming leaf-bladed knife was in his hand as he fell. His free hand swung around the animal’s neck and caught the chin as the buck raised his head.