Page 27 of Avelina

You did it to me again, you big bully, I thought to him.

His eyes crinkled at the corners, and he laughed at me again, even harder this time. Get used to it, it will only get worse the longer you know me.

Oh, shut up, stop copying me and let me work, I thought to him.

His face finally cracked into a grin. It was the first full, broad smile I had ever seen on his face, and it made my heart sing. His expression, normally so closed and stoic, opened as wide to me as his mind had, a fresh joy warming his features like a newly lit hearth in a cold room. I had no choice but to grin back at him.

After so many years of isolation, Aaron was overwhelmed by the sudden insertion of a woman into his life. A tiny woman, even smaller than his mother, which he didn’t think was possible. A gorgeous woman who liked him and who was considering sleeping with him.

Godammit, I thought. You heard that? I covered my eyes with one hand and felt my cheeks heating up again.

“Well, shit,” I said out loud. I am generally very open about sex, but that thought was meant to be private.

He buried his face in my neck again, partly to hide his laughter and partly to breathe in my scent. The experience of smelling my own scent through him was disorienting, but to feel him revel in it was thrilling.

I’m so lucky you had that barrel yesterday, I thought. I laughed, and he laughed with me. I shook my head in an attempt to release the embarrassment. It sort of worked.

I decided that instead of trying to find the injury mentally, I would just physically look at the wound. I pushed myself away from him a little so I could look at it properly, then I imagined pressing healed skin on top of the injury like a bandage. Something connected there, like a magnet attaching to a refrigerator. I got the impression that the actual imagery I used didn’t matter as much as the effort to press my intention into the wound. So, I pushed.

It was a little bit like blowing up a balloon but with a muscle my brain wasn’t accustomed to controlling. It was a massive effort to continue, and a pressure accumulated behind my eyes. After a few seconds, I felt a pressure in my chest as well.

Aaron sensed my struggle and thought, You can stop.

No! I’m a marathoner, dammit. I keep going when I’m tired.

It made me dizzy, but I pushed even harder. Aaron tensed, then closed his eyes and released a deep, guttural moan, letting his head rock back. The sound—I swear—made my uterus twitch, and my heart suddenly raced. Heat rushed to my pelvis and my body begged me to wrap myself around him. I resisted, instead concentrating on pushing Protection with all my strength. I was doing it!

The blackened skin at the edges of the wound shriveled up and fell off, revealing pink, shiny skin underneath. A quiet fizzing sound came from the wound itself. It bubbled as if I had poured hydrogen peroxide on it. The pus dripped out of the wound, down into his eyebrow. It was absolutely disgusting, but I could feel the intense pleasure it gave him as if it were my own.

Our thoughts intertwined, flowing back and forth simultaneously, such that I struggled to distinguish mine from his. Our attention was brought back down to his erection, and we noticed the way I sat pressed against him at an odd angle.

So much for not wrapping myself around him. What a shame. I readjusted myself so that I straddled him, a much more comfortable position for both of us.

Thank you, he thought, and his hands slid down from the small of my back to my waist, then down to my hips. His hands moving over me made me shiver and lose my concentration for a moment. He gripped me a little harder and pulled me toward him. The juxtaposition of sexual tension against the horrifying process of wound healing was so ludicrous that I laughed.

He knew why I laughed, but the intense pleasure made it hard for him to think about anything except lifting me up by my ass, kicking the chair out of the way, and carrying me over to the cot so he could tear my damp clothes off. He narrowly contained the impulse, but the image kept circling and spinning in his mind like a Tilt-a-Whirl.

He growled in frustration, then pulled me into a tight hug to try to make the spinning stop, burying his face in my neck again, inhaling me. Then he opened his mouth and tasted my skin. I let him, a little sigh escaping my lips. His mouth was feverishly hot, and I closed my eyes to just feel it. To him, my skin was silky and cool against his lips, and salty on his tongue. He imagined his mouth moving around the rest of my body, and I knew he would not be able to withstand the urge much longer.

His shame and embarrassment were unraveling. But what will replace it? we asked. Love? No. As much as that idea appealed, this was not about love. This was about freedom. It was about exulting in the exquisite pain and pleasure of being.

My skin tingled all over and my vision blurred. I should stop, I thought. You’ll be okay now. I should definitely stop. I didn’t stop. I pushed Protection into him as hard as I could. He clenched his jaw and let out a sort of grunting whine, then his hands went from my hips down to my butt and he squeezed.

The room started to spin, and I closed my eyes against it. Aaron was about to kiss me when he sensed the change. With extreme effort, he pulled his face away to look at me. His grip loosened a little.

“Lina, stop,” he said.

At least, that’s what I think he said. I’m not entirely sure because I passed out. Aaron caught me before I fell. I heard him say my name, but it sounded far away. I couldn’t respond.

When I came back, he still held me on his lap, keeping me from falling. His face was tense, and he was drenched in sweat.

“Lina,” he said again. He relaxed when I opened my eyes and looked at him. “You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. I just . . . I healed you. It was really hard.” He didn’t even smile at the joke. He stared at my face. “What is it?” I asked.

He shook his head and whispered, “You’re glowing.”

I held my hand up to my face and stared. “Again?” He didn’t respond. After a few seconds, the glow faded and I said, “I’m okay.”

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