Page 11 of Karma

Scorpio

I fell asleep like a goddamn baby with Karma in my arms. Didn’t think I would. And not just because of the nightmares I knew would come after visiting Chicago and Honey’s grave. I also didn’t think I’d be able to sleep because my dick was rock hard and throbbing even as I told her I’m fine and she should sleep.

I must be some sort of sadomasochistic freak telling her that, because I’m sure she’d have done anything for me after I made her come like that. The way she just came undone for me, the way she sighed and moaned and writhed then let it all go as though she was letting go of years’ worth of stuff weighing her down… that was a memory I didn’t want to spoil by just fucking her brains out afterwards. That would make it cheap. And I couldn’t let that happen because watching her come like that for me is definitely up there with my top best memories now.

Truth is, I’ve been trying hard to get Karma in my bed because she’s so gorgeous, tough and cool all rolled into a mouthwatering package. I’ve yet to get tired of just watching her. I always wanted to see if there’s anything soft about her. And oh, boy, there is. From her lips to her velvety pussy andher sweet little moans as she begged me to let her come. Under all that toughness, she’s just a delicate flower, like those pretty tattoos covering her belly and chest. So different from the angry dark ones all over her arms. Some of those are straight out of a nightmare, especially the blood-soaked women, one on each arm. I’m pretty sure those are supposed to be her.

I had a lot of time to study all of them by the flickering yellowish light in the cabin and later by the crisp dawn light, because my own nightmares did eventually make an appearance. Just before dawn, after the moon and stars had already disappeared from the sky and the sun was not yet ready to come up.

At first I thought what woke me was those hard ass would-be rapist guys scratching at the door, but it was just my own bad memories turned into monsters in my brain. I would’ve preferred the bikers trying to break in. At least that’s a threat I know how to fight. I shouldn’t have let Joker drag me back to Chicago. But until I got there, I thought I could handle it. I can’t. So it’s best to just leave it all alone, never think about it and drown the monsters in alcohol and wild sex like I’ve been successfully doing all these years.

If it was anyone else in bed with me, I’d have woken them up and fucked the nightmares away. But Karma… she’s nothing like I expected and I wanna see where that goes before I mess it up. Not that I’m looking for anything but a good time. Anything else never ends well. And this time, it’s absolutely guaranteed to end before it even starts.

But I won’t make the mistake of trying to sleep without first getting my cock taken care of again.

I did eventually fall asleep again, but not before taking a very cold shower at dawn and finishing the bottle of whiskey Karma opened last night.

Now the sun’s hot and in my eyes as I try to open them and she’s not lying beside me.

Realizing that is enough to make me sit bolt upright scanning the room. I don’t fully relax until I see her sitting in one of the deck chairs outside, her long hair shining like gold as it drips onto the planks.

“Good morning,” she says as I walk up to her, smiling at me over her shoulder. “I thought you were gonna sleep all day.”

The sun’s already very high in the sky, but it can’t be noon yet, can it?

“Is that my shirt?” I ask as I sit next to her in the other deck chair.

She smiles sheepishly. “Yeah. I just kind of like your smell. So I wanted more of it.”

The shirt she’s wearing is the one she ripped off me last night. It’s also the same one I sweated through in Chicago, at the cemetery and on my ride over here. So she got a lot of smell out of it. But I’m not even worried about any of that. I’m too awestruck by her brutal honesty and the fact it took us so long to get here.

“Is there any more coffee?” I ask, pointing at the small travel mug she’s holding in her hands.

“Plenty. I just made a fresh batch,” she says. But instead of handing me her cup, she picks up a cylindrical contraption from the floor by her feet and pours some coffee into a tin cup she’s clearly set out for me. It’s been a while since I smelled good coffee and hers smells divine. The scent wakes me up all on its own.

“Do you want some creamer and sugar?” she asks.

“Nope,” I say then swallow the contents of the cup in one go.

“More,” I say and hand her the empty cup back. She giggles, a sound I never thought I’d hear pass her lips, and pours me another cup.

This time I take the cup and the coffee maker from her hands. “What is this thing? I want one.”

She giggles again. It sounds like the birds singing in the trees all around us only better.

“It’s a portable espresso maker,” she says. “I just got it. I used to have a bitchin’ pour over set before this. But it broke.”

She pouts her lips in the most endearing way. I want to kiss that pout so bad my cock jerks to attention on just the thought of doing it.

“Bitchin’, huh?” I say. “Sorry it broke, but other than that, I have no idea what you just said.”

Her eyes widen excitedly. “It’s like a glass jar with a filter that you use to make coffee. It takes longer to brew than regular coffee, but it tastes amazing once it does. I used to be able to brew coffee for everyone with it. But I should’ve known glass and motorcycles don’t mix. This is actually better.”

She takes the coffee maker from my hand and looks at it. “But it’s only good for a couple of cups.”

The giggles and excitement drained from her voice the longer she spoke. I bet I know why… she’s thinking about dead Reaper. But I don’t want to go there. This day is too fine for that kind of grief.

“You got some breakfast in that bag of goodies of yours?” I ask, pointing at the backpack by her feet.

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