Nawashi Read Free Page B

and found his
hands tangled in leather straps, and heard the voice of the Indian
woman from the night before suddenly loud in his ears…
“Dammit, Sullivan, he’s harshing the buzz.
Fucker.”
    Brian jerked his eyes open
suddenly, still on the kilim rug where he’d been laid by the
bearlike man. He turned his head, an effort that seemed to shake
loose his scalp due to a brain grown large and sodden with sleep,
and his eyes slowly focused on the source of the voice and the
sounds. The bear—Sullivan, he now remembered—was sitting nude and
cross-legged, with the woman from last night ( Vashti? Something like that )
straddling him, legs wrapped around his waist. Her hair swung from
side to side down her back, revealing soft musculature curving into
her ass, rising up and down slowly and rhythmically. Brian could
see the slight pale shade of the condom on Sullivan’s cock as it
disappeared and reappeared beneath her.
    Her hands were placed on
his chest, palms on either side of his sternum, and his decorated
arms encircled her like a ballet dancer en
face , his palms flat and fingers spread
over each shoulder blade. Neither of them were looking at him; in
fact, they were the exact opposite of his nightmare, their eyes
locked into each other as they moved.
Sullivan didn’t blink, but his mouth opened
in a wry grin. “Shut up and breathe in your healing, you careless
bitch. You know he deserves this more than you do.” His fingers
flexed on her shoulder blades, and Brian blinked as the tribal
tattoos flowing down them seemed to glow, somehow, pulsing with the
rhythm of their fucking.
Her breath deepened then, and after a few
more beats on an inhalation her eyes widened slightly as suddenly
on a downstroke she froze, her thighs trembling, the breath slowly
coming out of her as she relaxed her body into him.
He continued to hold her for a moment, his
hands softening from the formal posture on her shoulder blades to a
more conventional hug, and he joined her in a deep, resigned sigh.
Brian saw her murmur something into his ear before she began to
disentangle her legs from his waist, and saw him shake his head,
smiling at her for a moment, before he turned a more serious
thoughtful gaze to meet Brian’s eyes.
“He’s the one you should be asking that of,
Vash, and you know it.”
The woman sighed, and swivelled on her
cross-legged seat to look at Brian on the floor. Her face looked
slightly annoyed, and he had the distinct impression that he was
something of an embarrassment for her. She wore her nudity with no
self-consciousness at all, though her nipples were still crinkled
from her orgasm. “Yes. I suppose I should. Though in my
defense—“
“You have no defense, Vash. Rule number
one.”
She looked pained and embarrassed again,
glancing up at Sullivan and this time unable to hold his gaze for
more than a moment. She sighed again, and lifted her eyes to
Brian’s. He still felt unable to move, seemingly disconnected from
his body. His head seemed only partially attached to it, like it
was a balloon that would disengage and flatulently zigzag around
before collapsing in a corner, nothing but a scrap of skin.
    “I am responsible for my
selfish actions last night, and would make amends. How can I help
you, Man ?” There
was a soft remonstrative noise from Sullivan at that, and she
sighed again, repeating her question with a slight difference. “How
can I help you, Brian?”
Brian realized that he was being offered:
the same kind of treatment he’d woken to. He also realized that in
spite of the completely overt sexuality she was exuding, skin still
stippled around her neck from the rush of her orgasm, labia puffy
and open at the same level as his head, in spite of that, he had no
desire at all to come anywhere near this woman. In spite of her
apparent penitent attitude, he could still sense an undercurrent of
dislike in her for him, a measure of contempt that she could not
quite hide in spite of her genuine