Southern Sunrise (Southern 4)

“You mean four,” I say. “You forget the twice before we came outside.”

“We got it in six times yesterday,” she says, and my hands hold both tits as she rides me again, and her moans start and echo in the forest. “Also, never fucking against a tree.”

“It was one splinter.” I bite her shoulder, and the cover falls off her, and I see she is playing with herself.

“It was a splinter in my ass.” Her hips go around and then she gets up and slides down again faster and faster.

“You didn’t want to put your hands on the ground, so how else was I going to get inside you?” I roll her nipples, and she winces again, so I move my hands to her hips, and I help her move up and down. When she yells out that she’s coming, it takes a minute more for me to follow her. She gets up off me now or else before we both know it we’ll go for round two.

“What time is he coming to get the keys?” she asks, looking at me naked standing there with the sun behind her. “Stop looking at me like that. I have shit to do like shower and wash the sheets.”

“You don’t have to wash the sheets.” I get up, grabbing the cover, and walk into the cabin with her. “He’s a soldier. We sleep on dusty cots half the time.”

“We’ve had sex in that bed. It smells of sex,” she says, shaking her head and walking over to strip the bed.

“You know what I’m going to miss,” I say, and she looks up, holding the sheets in her arms. “You being naked all the time.”

She throws her head back and laughs. “I wouldn’t be naked all the time if you gave me my clothes back.” Another thing I’ve done is take her clothes and hide them. Knowing no one can see her and having her naked around me is so much better than her in my shirt.

“I gave you clothes to wear out on our hike,” I remind her. “But I’ve also decided that every Saturday will be naked Saturday in the house.”

“In our house?” she asks. “The house in the city? Where people just drop by, and we have all those windows.”

“I’ll tell them they can’t come over on Saturday,” I say, and she gasps.

“You are not going to tell anyone that they can’t come over because it’s naked Saturday.” She walks out and tosses the sheets in the wash. I make her tea, and by the time the guy comes to get the keys, we are already packed up and ready to head back home. “Do you want a minute to say goodbye?”

“Nah,” I say, looking at the house. “This was never home.”

I open the door for her and toss Carey my keys. “Hope you find what you are looking for,” I say, and he looks at me. His brown eyes are almost like mine were five years ago—empty.

“I’m looking to disappear,” he says, running his hands through his short black hair, and I nod at him. “Figured this was the perfect place.”

“It is,” I say. “Let me know if you need anything.” He just looks at me. “Even if it’s just to talk.”

“Thanks,” he says and turning around, walking to the house, he grabs a small duffel bag and throws it over his shoulder. I get in the truck and see that Emily is wiping a tear from her eye.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, and she shakes her head.

“That little boy is so lost,” she says. “You can see the anguish in his eyes. Do you know his story?” she asks, and I shake my head. I don’t fill her in on the talk from the other soldiers either. It’s his story to tell, not mine.

The drive home is spent with her dozing off. “I’m so tired,” she says when we pull up to our house. “All that fresh air has me ready to fall.”

“Go to bed, and I’ll get the things out of the truck.” I kiss her, and she just nods, and when I finish unloading the truck, I find her curled up in a ball. I slip into bed beside her, and even though I find her naked, she doesn’t budge. She sleeps through the night and is dragging ass the whole day after. When I come in, I find her sleeping on the couch, and I call my mother.

“Mom,” I say as soon as she answers the phone. “I don’t know what to do.”

“What happened?” she asks, and I hear a door close, and the noise around her is now quiet.

“Emily keeps sleeping,” I say, and it suddenly sounds so stupid even to me. “She gets up to eat and then goes back to bed.”

“Is she sick?” she asks. “Does she have a fever?” I walk to the couch and feel her head.