Chapter 32: Moira

Out of the dreamless sleep of the dead, I was startled awake, and lay there, wondering what had awoken me. I was alone, and I unaccountably felt annoyed by that. I'd grown accustomed to having Saralinda in my bed, but the last couple of weeks, I'd gone to bed alone more than once, though she'd always joined me sometime during the night.

It was my fault as much as hers, probably, if it was anyone's fault. I was spending a lot of time with Joanne, and Saralinda was hanging out with Malia. Sometimes we weren't both back in our rooms at bedtime.

To make things worse, Gary was gone, so I couldn't even crawl into bed with him. That did annoy me. I missed him. I missed our talks. I missed doing stuff with him, like hiking, or snorkeling, or even just having dinner. And I missed his cock. Well, to be fair, I missed his lovemaking, and not just his cock. But Saralinda could give me some of the love but not some cock...

My sleep-fuzzy brain registered a noise coming from Saralinda's room. A woman was crying out her climax. That must have been what woke me. The moaning continued, muffled through the wall. I swallowed hard, and felt tears well at the corners of my eyes. It had to be Saralinda and Malia, and while I knew I had no right to be jealous, ... Well, I was alone in bed, and overtired. And, darn-it, I felt empty and abandoned.

The noises next door quieted down, and maybe I fell asleep again. I half-awoke to the sound of giggling and doors closing, and again when I felt Saralinda climb into bed behind me. She snuggled close, kissed my shoulder, and I knew nothing more until the creeping morning sunlight and my bladder conspired to interrupt a dream.

I slipped from the bed, peed, and thought about getting up. But I was still tired, and the warm bed, with Saralinda's mop of a head on one pillow, called me back.

I climbed under the covers, and watched Saralina sleep for a bit. So precious. I wanted to take her into my arms and kiss her awake and hold her close and make her mine. But I didn't. I rolled away from her, unsure of things. But even in her sleep, she scooted next to me and wrapped an arm around my belly, giving me a squeeze. Sleep came again.

Saralinda woke me for good when she climbed back into bed after a potty run. I rolled onto my back, and she snuggled in against me, with my arm around her. I gave her a little squeeze and she squeezed me back, as if everything were still the same between us. She was tucked under my arm, and she kissed the swell of my breast. Then she squirmed down my body a bit, and the next thing I knew, she'd sucked my nipple into her mouth as if she were a baby. She nursed on it gently, and lazily, seemingly for her comfort rather than as something sexual.

But the attention was turning me on, which made me annoyed again. And then I said something spiteful, of which I am ashamed, because I still stung from the night before.

"Sex with Malia wasn't enough for you?"

Her head popped up from my breast, and I could feel her stiffen. We stared at each other. I already realized I shouldn't have said it. She seemed to be trying to figure out whether to be angry or contrite or something else, I don't know.

Then she relaxed and rested her cheek on my chest, and stared at the wall.

"It wasn't like that," she said quietly.

It wasn't an apology, nor was it defiant. Either one of those might have hurt. But her explanatory tone seemed to make everything all right, except for my growing feelings of shame for being jealous.

"Oh, Moira, she's so alone! And what happened just happened, but all I was trying to do was to, I don't know, show her I cared, I guess. And show her that sex can feel good and be fun, if you're, like, with someone you actually care about.

"Moira, she'd never had anyone make love to her before! Like, Jake explained to me one time about making love, and about having sex, and the difference between them, and everything. And so I knew that you and I make love, and that Gary had makes love to us, and, like, that's why it was so good. And one time with Gary, it was more like just having sex, and that was good too, but only because I knew that we could make love. Does that make sense?