Echo 8 (30 page)

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Authors: Sharon Lynn Fisher

BOOK: Echo 8
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“Don't come yet,” he insisted, cupping her face in his hands.

“Then stop that,” she gasped, rolling hard against his hips.

“Shh, no, be still.”

Groaning, she let her body go quiet.

He held her still a moment, and then his hands stroked her cheeks and neck, moving down to massage her shoulders and arms. Her upper and middle back. The deliciously sensitive well at the base of her spine.

“Mmm.” She brushed the tip of her nose up the bridge of his. “This feels like gentle to me.”

“I underestimated myself,” he said quietly, rubbing her thighs. Tracing the curve of her waist. “We've had no time for this. Last time you made me explode, and then you went hurtling away like a rocket. You gave me a gift, but you didn't really let me have it.”

She tried to swallow the tight place in her throat. “What do you mean?” she creaked.

He ran a hand through her hair. “You're so sexy, so beautiful. I want to fuck you.” He kissed her, gently biting her lower lip. “But I want
more
. I want to look at you. Touch your soft skin. Will you let me have that?”

Tears started in Tess's eyes and she leaned forward, needing to feel his warm lips again. Just his lips, soft and wet, working against hers.

“Ross,” she whispered, shuddering. “Talking to me like that will get you anything you want.”

He grinned, and she felt him throb inside her. “So I'm getting better at this?”

“Can't remember at the moment how you were deficient before.”

“Well, for one, most of the stuff that comes out of my mouth seems to either piss you off or make you cry.”

“Uh…” She let her shoulders fall back as his thumbs rubbed slow circles over her breasts. “I think you're exaggerating.”

“Maybe. But I do like these purring noises you're making much better.”

She smiled as he settled her onto her back, eyes sweeping from her face to where they were joined.

“Do what you like with me, ex Agent McGinnis.” She rested her hands on his chest. “Just don't pull out.”

“I don't think I could.” He laughed. “But tell me why.”

She hesitated. He bent and kissed the rounded tip of her chin.

“When you're inside me I feel … I don't know, anchored.” She bit her lip, knowing that was thin. Insufficient. “Just now when you said what you said, and I could feel the pulse and surge of your blood inside me … I thought I could feel … your soul touching mine.”

Her face flushed hot, and she turned her head. “It's not a very scientific thing to say, is it?”

Ross pulled her back and kissed her, his tongue slipping into her mouth as his hand lifted her thigh so he could work deeper. She could feel him in that close, dark space—the whole warm, probing length of him. She concentrated all her senses on that depthless exchange, and her climax stole upon her without any warning.

She arched her hips, and sensing the sudden loosening at her core, he made fast, tight circles that opened her and let him push deeper still. He reached down and raised her other leg, locking her tight against him.

There was an explosion of stillness. Motionless and locked together, she came like an earthquake that rumbles from so deep in the ground only a fraction of its violence reaches the surface. A low moan vibrated through her and out of Ross.

They sank together as one body in a breathless heap. She bore much of his weight, but she didn't care. She wanted him buried inside her. It made her feel safe from the forces that always swept in and tore her away from the people she loved.

*   *   *

“I'm sorry, kids, but it's too fucking cold.”

Jake listened to the rustling inside the tent—
his
tent—and tried not to picture the reunion that had just taken place.

Too late.

Goff was still wandering around in the grape graveyard, scribbling science-y things on a tiny pad of paper, so Jake didn't even have the distraction of other company.

Tess came spilling out of the tent, tucking overstimulated curls behind her ears. Her face was red as an apple, whether from embarrassment or exertion it was impossible to be sure.

“Hey,” she said, and her expression told him she knew that it was a lame thing to say. “I'm sorry,” she added.

“Don't apologize for taking what you want, sweetheart. I never do.”

Ross came out behind her, and the Fed pressed a hand against her backside, nudging her aside so he could close and zip the tent flap.

Jake picked up his most recently opened bottle and gulped.

Ross had exited the tent with his shirt in his hands—intentionally, no doubt, as a challenge to any other primate in the vicinity—and now he clasped the woman Jake loved against his bare chest. Jake saw her tense for a moment—weakly fighting the embrace out of consideration for him, he imagined—before going soft in Ross's arms.

“Come
on
,” Jake grumbled, feeling the wine buzzing in his brain. “It's bad enough you had to use my tent.”

Ross looked at him. “Since I'm the one who went down in that hole for it, I'd say it's a community tent.”

“Ross,” warned Tess.

“What do you need a tent for? You can go home and fuck in a bed. Hell, you could probably have your choice of beds. First yours, then hers. You could go down to the lab and use mine.”

“Always with the pity party,” groaned Ross. “Give it a rest.”

Jake took an unsteady step toward them. “Listen,
dick
. You got the girl. You got the Earth that still has smart phones and Chinese takeout. Don't you fucking sit there in your … postcoital superiority … and tell me what to do or how to feel.”

Ross snorted. “God, you are one pathetic asshole.”

“Yeah? Fuck you.”

Jake launched at Ross, and the two men collided.

The energy transfer triggered like a shovel to the back of his head, and Ross wrestled him to the ground. Jake roared and squeezed his hands around Ross's throat.

“Let him go, Ross!” cried Tess.

Ross jammed the heel of his hand under Jake's chin and forced him back. Jake's rage had opened the floodgates, and his energy poured into Ross. His hands fell away from Ross's throat, but as Ross was withdrawing, Jake jerked up and bashed his head against Ross's face.

“Jesus!” growled Ross, kicking Jake away.

Jake threw everything he had left into a final surge—which was stopped by Ross's fist cracking against his jaw.

“Ross, stop it!” Tess shouted as Jake slouched to the ground, moaning.

The Fed shot her a look of disbelief. “I'm not supposed to defend myself?” He got up, wiping blood from his nose. “You're a psychology Ph.D., Tess. Why do you always let him play you?”

Ross stalked out the door, and Tess's eyes followed.

Jake felt a stab of guilt at the pain and confusion in her expression. “Go on, Doc,” he mumbled. “I'm okay.”

She gave him a dubious look. “Are you sure about that?”

Jake rubbed his jaw, grinning. “Sure I am. Who's bleeding?”

Tess frowned.

“Hey, he could have killed me if he wanted to. Probably a hundred different ways. We're just blowing off steam. Go on and tell him you're sorry for taking my side. He'll get over it.”

*   *   *

Ross stomped out of the ruined building furious with himself. Why did he always let Jake bait him? It was easy work for Jake; he had nothing to lose. But Ross had Tess, and he was always walking a tightrope with her.

The worst part was he knew what had happened in there had more to do with jealousy than anything else. Ross had never been jealous. It was the worst kind of petty insecurity. But he'd never been with a woman in love with two men. Before Tess, he would have considered it a waste of his time.

A cool hand came down on his arm, and he jerked away so violently she stumbled.

Ross swore and threw an arm out to catch her. Her fall pulled him off-balance, and they sank together to the ground. She pressed her forehead into his chest, and her breaths made warm puffs against his shirt.

Sighing, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. How could he be angry with her? Loving them both—trying to keep the peace between them as they cycled in and out of resentment—was tearing her apart. It was the reason he'd fallen for her in the first place.… She had a heart the size of Jupiter.

*   *   *

Jake propped himself in the doorway, watching a makeup kiss that was beginning to look like a prelude to more screwing. He'd been selfishly relieved to hear Tess talk about staying in Camp Desolation. He'd thought maybe he'd stick around after all. See if she could really pull it off. But if the Fed was going to stay with her … he couldn't take it. He'd end up shooting himself. Again.

Knowing they were having sex was one thing; observing it was another. It didn't help that he'd encouraged her. The question was, if he'd known it would become possible for him to touch Tess himself, would he have pushed her at Ross?

No way.

Jake's gaze shifted to Goff, who was heading across the vineyard toward them, still scribbling on his pad. As he watched Goff's approach, wondering how he was keeping his footing when he wasn't even looking at the ground, he noticed movement on the blighted hillside in the distance.

“Hey,” he called, “we've got company.”

Ross and Tess broke apart and followed his gaze.

Four figures moved down the hillside, two of them dragging something behind them.

Goff joined Ross and Tess, and Jake walked over to stand with them.

“Friends of yours?” asked Goff.

Jake shook his head.

As they drew closer, he saw the thing they were dragging was a tarp loaded with belongings—they were using it like a sled. Once they were down the hill they progressed slowly, navigating the muddy, uneven ground.

“Could be your doppelgänger again, G-man,” said Jake. “Maybe you and the doctor should scoot back home.”

“If he comes to mess with us again it'll be the last thing he does.”

“I'll kill him,” muttered Tess, and Ross gave her a startled look. It was a very un-Tess-like thing to say.

“You'll both have to beat me to it,” said Jake, touching his bandaged ear.

But as the visitors drew closer they ruled out Mac. One of the figures was hooded, but too slight to be Ross's twin.

They released the tarp and continued until they were about five yards away, and Jake realized he was shaking. These were people from his world.
Survivors
. Maybe Tess had been right. Maybe he didn't have to die alone on this cold, barren rock.

Two of the figures wore Seattle-style all-weather jackets, while two were wrapped in layers of blankets. Three of them had scraggly beards. He couldn't see anything but the chin of the smaller one in the hood. But the shape and texture of that one feature was enough to identify her as a woman or an adolescent boy.

A man with a dark beard and haggard expression stepped in front of the others.

“We saw your smoke,” he said simply.

Jake took a few steps forward as well, so they were no more than six feet apart. He felt connected across centuries with other men and women who'd found themselves in this same position. Greeting strangers in front of their homes, trying to read intention in tone and demeanor.

“We have a fire,” answered Jake.
God, what an idiot.

The bearded man studied him, arms hanging stiffly at his sides. Jake noticed the other members of his group all held a hand to their waists. They had weapons of some kind. Or wanted Jake to think they did.

“We came down from southeastern Washington,” the man continued, “along the Hood River. Thought we might find warmer weather closer to the coast.”

Jake pulled his sleeping bag tighter, chuckling. “Welcome to paradise. Sorry to disappoint you.”

The man raised his eyebrows, and the smaller figure stepped forward. She pushed back her hood, and two auburn braids flopped onto her chest.

“We left ten feet of snow,” said the woman.

Jake's eyes locked onto her face. His heart tried to escape through his throat, and he gulped it back down.

“Somebody please shoot me.”

*   *   *

Tess gasped as the woman's hood fell back.

She was a little shorter. Had more color in her complexion. Longer hair. Hardship had worn her thinner. Otherwise, she was Tess's twin.

Entanglement strikes again.

Tess tried to move closer, but Ross gripped her hand. “It's not safe,” he reminded her.

The woman's gaze flickered at Tess. She froze, and her gaze swung back.

Tess moistened her lips with her tongue. She said, “Tess?”

The woman blinked at her, and she shot an uneasy glance at the bearded man. He gave a helpless shrug. Finally she said, “No, I'm Eva.”

Tess smiled. “Named after your mother.”

Eva stared at her, surprised and wary. “That's right. How did you—?”

“Is she alive?” Tess swallowed. “Your mother—is she still alive?”

Eva shook her head slowly. “Who
are
you?”

“Why don't we take this party inside?” suggested Jake.

Eva studied the ruin, hesitating.

“It's comfier than it looks.”

“Okay,” she said skeptically, bumping her pack higher.

“Here,” said Jake, reaching for it.

“I got it,” she replied flatly.

“I see that,” he muttered, leading the way to the ruin.

The others dragged their tarp close to the doorway. They had an assortment of canned food, blankets, outdoor gear, and extra clothing. Inside they dumped their packs and huddled next to the fire.

“You should save your wood for cooking,” said Eva, despite the fact she was warming her hands close the flames. One of the men grunted agreement.

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