Chapter 2

Robin spent the next day with the biker women. They were less scary than their men, but just barely. Still they treated her with a sort of respect; at least no one insulted her. Apparently being Tyler's woman was enough to earn their acceptance. The work wasn't hard. Sorting, inventory, and packing, she could do that in her sleep which unfortunately made it too easy for her to think about what had happened between Ham and her the night before. Last night he had been her perfect lover and this morning she had woke up alone. Of course, he came back to the room eventually with scrambled eggs and toast, told her to get dress, and left her with the biker women. He did kiss her when he left her at the storage area, but they were in front of an audience of people who had to believe they were a couple. And she had overheard the biker women talking about food shortages in Tucson. Eggs were in very short supply. But other than that he acted like nothing had happened between them last night.

"You do that good. You been in this long?" a woman said as they had finished the medical kits.

"My father was a scientist. We went underground early," Robin explained.

The woman nodded and held out her hand. "I'm Solange Morales. Chuy Morales's old lady."

Chuy was the biker that wore the lizard skin, but Solange looked normal. She was a few years older than Robin, black hair and brown eyes, but except for the biker tattoos would have looked like any woman in LA. She shook Solange's hand. "I'm Robin." Should she use her real last name? Probably not, even here they might recognize her by her full name and she didn't need that kind of attention. "My name is Robin Ty. . . "

Solange cut her off. "I know. You're Ham Tyler's old lady. Everybody's been afraid of bothering you."

Alarm bells went off inside her head. "Why?"

"Because your man is scarier than the lizards," Solange said.

"He's good to me," Robin said.

Solange nodded in approval. "That's what counts. You got any kids?"

"I have a daughter. Ham's not her father, but he treats her well." That was no lie. Ham had always been kind to Elizabeth. She noticed Ham on the edge of the supply area.

"Looks like someone doesn't like you away from him for too long," Solange said.

"I better see what he wants," Robin said.

"He probably wants quickie. Enjoy it. After a few years these guys are more interested in how their meals are cooked then being with you." Solange replied.

Robin noticed Ham had his backpack and was carrying a few other things. "Are we leaving?" She asked.

"Everybody is. Supplies are running low in Tucson. The bikers have convinced the occupation government they should be allowed to move into some abandoned farms." He explained.

"Can they farm this time of year?" she asked.

Ham shrugged. "They're going farther than that, up into the mountains." He handed her a coat. "Here, you'll need this. Sorry, I couldn't find you any boots."

She unfolded the coat. It was military green, but had a London Fog label on the collar. And it looked new. Of course, coats probably weren't high demand items in Tucson. "Thanks. I don't think I'll need boots. My sneakers are pretty comfortable."

"Once we get passed the farms, we abandon the really gas-guzzling vehicles. You're going to have to walk awhile and there is snow in the mountains. If your feet start feeling numb, tell me immediately." He said.

"I can hack it. I survived a Visitor internment camp." She said.

"You didn't go through winter at that camp," Ham replied.

The trip up the mountains was harder than she expected. Once they got into the mountains Tucson's blazing heat was forgotten. It was winter in the Rockies in all it's howling, freezing, Visitor repelling glory. But each step sent icy blades though her feet as the wind shoved her from side to side. Even though she wasn't carrying anything after a few hours her legs felt like lead. Without warning she was hauled off the ground. Her head nearly slammed into the barrel of the AK slung over Ham's shoulder.

"Put me down!" she screamed.

"You're about to collapse," he said.

"I can walk!" She tried to push his arms away, but he was iron.

"Shut up or I'll spank you," he barked.

Despite the wind, she distinctly heard a biker Atta-boy Tyler over the threat. Spank her! The jerk! Why was she such an idiot where men were concerned? Why had she let him have her last night? He was a jerk, a jerk that was carrying her uphill through snow with a full backpack and a rifle on his shoulders, but still a jerk. Oh, she wanted to scream except she was exhausted and scared and the only thing keeping her sane was knowing that even though Ham was a jerk as long as he was with her, she was safe. The rest of the march was hazy. They plodded on for hours. The wind never let up. The freezing air gave way to something a little less cold and she could smell straw. Ham laid her down onto a surface that seemed more comfortable than the ground, but by the time she was fully alert night was all around. She was lying on straw. She reached out and found icy metal on one side. Her sneakers had been removed and there was a hot water bottle against her feet. Two blankets had been laid over her. She was still cold, but not freezing. Okay maybe he wasn't completely a jerk.

A light pierced the smoky darkness and she saw Ham. He had a flashlight and metal bowls. "Where are we?" she asked.

"The biker's mountain camp. The Red Dust still works up here. The cabins don't provide much protection from the temperature, but it's well camouflaged from the air." He handed her a canteen. "This has been twice filtered and boiled."

It was just sweetened water, but she drank it ravenously. Their rations were cornbread and brown gravy, but neither of them spoke until completely emptying the bowls.

She broke the silence. "How long will we be here?"

"Depends on how the world is in the morning. At the worst, if we're here for a while. There's food and it's safe." He hunched down in the corner opposite her straw pile, bundled up in his jacket, and snapped the flashlight off. Even though the cabin was warmer than the outside, she knew he would be shaking before morning.

"You don't have to do that. Huddling under the blankets together would keep both of us warm." She offered.

He turned the flashlight on again. His expression was serious, but somehow not as hard as she was use to seeing. "Robin, I get under the blankets with you it will be to do more than huddle."

He was direct, but he wasn't crude either. It was almost romantic, at least as romantic as a man like Ham could probably be. And it was the most romantic thing a man had ever actually said to her. He was asking. And last night, last night had exorcised the demons Bryan and John left in her mind. She final understood why some women glowed over breakfast and why her youngest sister had been born twenty years into her parent's marriage. She definitely wanted to experience more of those sensations. "We can share blankets."

An incredibly sexy smile spread across his lips in the half second before he switched off the flashlight. Once again he was a different man in the darkness. His mouth, that she was so use to seeing snarl or shout, glided against her skin. Hands that ripped away lives, human and Visitor alike removed her clothes more delicately than she could under the blankets.

"You are good with your hands in the dark," she said.

"Land mines," he replied.

'What?" she asked.

He kissed her full on the lips. Somewhere she had read that mercenaries didn't kiss women on the lips because of too many years of banging prostitutes. Was that a sign that she meant more than sex to him?

"Sometimes crossing a field, I encounter landmines. The only way to move on is to defuse them in the dark."

Was her bra a landmine to him? Her certainly removed it quick enough and her breasts were free for a moment until his hands captured them. He knew exactly how to touch her. She didn't want to know where or how he had acquired that expertise. Then he slid lower replacing hands with lips and the cabin wasn't cold anymore because warmth blazed through her body. He didn't stop there. He moved even further down her body until his mouth was touching her in that special space even the few males that had been in her life had never touched with their lips. This was the way men in romance novels made love! Pleasure rippled through her in waves until one sweet intense burst turned her bones to jelly and comets streaked behind her eyelids.

"That was great defusing." It was suppose to sound clever and sexy, but the minute the words escaped her mouth she felt stupid.

"That wasn't defusing. That was priming. Besides some things are their own rewards." In the dark his voice was a caress. "Feel how much I enjoyed it?" He put her hand over his erection. She thought of iron covered in velvet and his skin was so boiling hot there it didn't seem like there was any cold left in the room. He nibbled on her ear while he stroked the tender fire below until despite the pleasure that had already happened, she craved even more. She wanted him like she wanted the water and warmth earlier. She closed her hand around his manhood and squeezed lightly in romance novels that was always a turn on for men. A growl came from Ham's throat. For once the books were accurate. He pressed her down onto the straw and spread her legs so gently she forgot about Bryan and John's jolting grabs. She didn't think about anything, but her burning desire for this one man who didn't think it was her fault she got raped and didn't think she was a monster for killing her rapist.

"You're so soft," he said.

"So are you," she whispered back.

"What?"

He sounded generally surprised and a little shocked. That hadn't been the right thing to say at all. She had to move fast or ruin the moment forever. She rubbed her hands all over his chest. "Soft, warm skin. A man's body, not a lizard with fake skin over his scales."

"I wondered. Couldn't ask last night, but I wondered." He said.

She clinched her knees against his sides. "You feel better, so much better than one of them. I think you're bigger down there to."

He laughed. "You're going to have my ego writing checks my body can't cash."

"You can cash them. I know you can."

It felt like they were fusing together. She didn't know what his body looked like, but her fingertips explored every inch of his chest and shoulders, every curve of sinewy muscle and every line and dip that was probably a scar. Maybe tomorrow he would let her explore him in the light. She got it that he was scarred, but somehow his scars felt good against her skin. She wanted to know everything about the source of all this pleasure that pummeled her senses until she couldn't think of anything except maybe if they could harness the power of sex they could solve all the universe's energy problems. Afterwards, desire satiated he still laid with her, limbs entangled like lovers and he still caressed her body. Words tumbled from his mouth she had never imagined him saying

"Your breasts are two gazelles that feed among the lilies," he whispered as his fingers played with her nipples.

She stroked his biceps. "That so doesn't sound like you."

He kissed her neck. "It's from the bible. My father was a minister. The Song of Solomon was the closest I could get to Playboy."

She had to giggle because even at such an intimate moment, the image of a teenage Ham Tyler searching the bible for erotic passages, it was just hysterical. Apparently, he agreed, at least he didn't seem offended. Instead he kissed her slowly thoroughly exploring her mouth as if he were somehow gathering intelligence in the process.

"You want more?" His voice was as deep as the night around them.

"Yes please."

One hand swept down her body. "Your belly is a sheath of wheat finest of the harvest. Your navel a pomegranate." He tickled her belly button then moved on. :"Your hips flow like the garden curtains of Solomon." With the next phrase his lips touched her ears as he spoke. "And between them a sacred grove." He kissed her again. "Nah, a temple, where a man can find paradise. Robin, I want to have you again. Will you let me make love to you again tonight?"

She stroked the muscles closest than moved her hands downward. "It's sweet that you always ask. I like that."

"The last woman that called me sweet was my grandmother," he said. He teased her with his fingers."

"After carrying me through the mountains, how do you still have so much energy?" she said.

"You inspire me," he replied.

"Nobody has ever said that about me," she said.

"They will when they write the history of this war. What you survived gave the world the Red Dust. Of course, the inspiration I'm having right now has nothing to do with heroic sacrifice." He kissed her gently. "I want you, but I don't want you waking up sore tomorrow either."

She pulled him closer. "I don't think that will happen. Make love to me."

After that she was lost to the sensations again. At least, it felt like making love to her instead of just sex. Ham had called it making love. Hopefully that meant something.

When she woke up the next morning, her clothes were fastened properly on her body. Her inner thighs didn't feel wet and sticky. He had obviously cleaned her up at some point while she too tired to even care. She sat up. The cabin was just a corrugated metal shed! There was one window letting in light. The glass was broken and patched back together. Back in California this would be a tool shed. It probably was a storage shed now. The only thing inside was the straw that had been their bed last night. Yet, it had been romantic or at least erotic last night. At the very least, she didn't regret having sex with Ham. She moved over to where he was sitting. All his attention was focused on a basket of straw and twigs. She laid her chin on his shoulder. His head swiveled back toward her in an instant, but once he saw her he didn't react further. "What's that?" she asked.

"SAS fish trap," he replied.

She noticed there was pile of them at his side. "Have you been making those all morning?"

"Yep, the bikers can fix machines in their sleep, but they need help in finding protein," he explained.

Someone rapped on the door. Her legs felt stiff from the cold, but when she opened the door the outside air didn't freeze her. Solange was in the doorway. She held out an orange Western shirt. "Hey, Robin, what do you think? Is orange your color?"

It actually was a nice shirt and she didn't have any clothes other than the ones on her back. "I don't have anything I can trade for it," Robin confessed.

"How about several hours of back-breaking work?. Now that the storm is clear, there's enough to sun to do laundry and there's tons of it. I'll throw in some jeans." Solange offered.

Robin glanced back at Ham.

"Have fun," he said.

Yeah right, boiling water and ringing out laundry by hand was fun. But she did need a change a clothes and the Old Lady of the head biker would probably be a good friend to have in the camp. She decided not to reply and went outside to join Solange.