Disclaimer: Sorry it's been so long. School has been crazy, I only have a week left until the summer session in which I will again be very busy. I'll try to be a better author though before the fall semester starts. Review with any suggestions would really help with the writing process. Please enjoy:)
Chapter 11:
The winter breeze pulls against the summer heat. Abigail lifts her eyes and watches as a yellow bee digs its paws into the soft yellow fluff of a daisy and shakes its body into the pollen, coating itself in the sticky yellow substance. The smell of the spring bloom drifts around her and she smiles against the sun.
The snow finally melted a few weeks ago and Abigail finds her muscles warming to the new spring weather. The excitement and anticipation builds as the new season arrives. Spring has always brought a lot of work to her ranch. It has always filled her with tasks that she has enjoyed, the heavy distraction of busy hands blocking out every worry and need. But this spring is different.
This spring she will have help, something that distresses and relieves her. She has already versed Saren in everything that needs to be done and how to do it, finding herself wondering how wise it is to give up so much of her responsibilities. Opening up to him has become a more and more common occurrence as of late and Abigail is uncertain to her feelings about this.
She has never been this open to another human being, has never been this close to someone unrelated to her. Fear grips her whenever she opens further and shares with him parts she has never shown before.
It's spring and in parts of the ranch bees buzz very loudly, collecting their loads and returning to the hives her grandfather had built. Pretty soon she will be collecting that honey, but not now. Now Abigail must milk Betty and collect eggs from the chicken coup.
It is still a bit chilly as she enters the barn and sits at her milking stool, calmly coaxing the black and white beast to give up her milk. Her calf is nearly grown and Abigail absentmindedly wonders if it's time to sell her and arrange for a new pregnancy.
Sue is a stout little thing, barely standing to her hips. She nuzzles against her thigh as Abigail milks her mother, waiting for her to finish and give her some attention.
Abigail places the filled bucket on a tall shelf and presses her face against Sue's, rubbing her hands against her neck and behind her ears. She moves her head up and kisses her forehead before dropping her hands and straightening her back. Inching over to Betty and she wiggles her ears with her soft hands before kissing her large pink nose. Her hands grasp the handle of the bucket and she wanders back to the kitchen.
Saren watches her enter through the light wooden door and stands from his seated position, moving the dishes to the sink.
"Have you thought at all about what we talked about?" he turns his head from the sink.
"I have" he replies and turns the rest of his body towards her form.
Abigail puts the milk in its place "and what do you think?"
"I have to say I am intrigued, but I am unsure if the endeavor is logical."
"I can explain to you for an hour why it's logical but I don't want to so just trust me."
"You have never given me reason to not trust you" he says and secretly enjoys the smile the statement elicits.
"Good, we'll get started when the chores are finished."
"Extrapolating from past experience they should be finished at approximately fourteen hundred hours."
"Meet me in the barn."
"That would be adequate."
"Should we synchronize our watches" Saren raises an eyebrow and watches Abigail leave towards the chicken coup.
Abigail places her foot into the stirrup and lifts her body into the saddle. Her hands lightly grazes the reins and turns towards Saren. "Can you do that?" she asks him.
"It would be illogical to assume I could do something with which I have no experience, but I can try." He watches her carefully as she slides off of Midnight, gently stroking her mane.
Standing beside them she watches as Saren puts a foot into the stirrup, his hands weighing heavily on the old mare. He pushes up from the ground and falls onto his back.
"Not as easy as it looks?" she asks taking his hand and pulling him up.
"It appears I require additional assistance." He diverts all of his attention to the cadence of her voice as she gives him additional instructions.
As his sits down on the saddle his hand tugs onto the reins in an unprofessional manner. Excited for some activity Midnight lurches forward, the unexpected movement almost knocks Saren back and on the ground. He wraps the leather of the reins around his wrist and holds on tightly with his Vulcan thighs.
Abigail rushes forwards whistling. As midnight slows Abigail reaches her neck and tugs the rein left and shushes the animal to a stop. Her heart racing she walks them along the path she laid out, giving Saren instructions along the way. After an hour of this Saren deems himself well versed in the working of the animal and Abigail lets him ride more quickly without her guidance.
The sun is still hot when Saren slows Midnight to a stop in front of the old red barn. He cautiously dismounts her with Abigail's help. He slips down next to her with hands damp with milky sweat.
Abigail takes the leather from Saren and leads Midnight close to a bucket filled with cool water. The sponges are easily pulled from the soapy fluid and Abigail hands one to Saren. Together they clean the tuckered animal, dry her, and put her into her light wooden stall, a new layer of hay having been laid down while Saren was riding her. Abigail kisses her next to her left eye and secures the door.
The fresh green grass sways under their boots as they make their way through the kitchen door. Abigail leans against the counter picking through her recipe wheel. "What are you hungry for?" she asks the man standing no more than three feet from her.
"I have no preferences" he tells her, folding his hands behind his lean back. He watches her straighten up and open the cabinet beside her.
"Then wash off some vegetables and make a salad, I'll put together some pasta."
"Do you want me to set aside some tomatoes for the sauce?"
"Yes, that would be great." She pulls down a box of noodles from the shelf and kneels down below to grab a sauce pan. They work together until the meal is complete and steaming on their plates.
The cold air blows through the sun warmed room as they start the meal. "It's getting chilly, I can't wait until the summer" Abigail says across the table rubbing at her bare arms.
"If you are cold it would be logical to put on additional clothing."
"Nah, it's not that cold" Abigail spins the spaghetti onto her fork and places the red soaked noodles into her mouth. "Is it better now that the temperature is getting warmer?"
"I am not accustomed to the cold."
"Is it warm on Vulcan?"
"The daytime temperatures range from 43.3 to 51.6 degrees Celsius in the summer, but Vulcan does experience frigid temperatures at night and in the winter."
"You would be right at home in the Californian desert."
"Perhaps" he says and skews a carrot with his thick fork.
"Do you miss it?" He raises and eyebrow and watches her face.
"Missing something along with homesickness is illogical."
"Of course it is."
He watches her closely. "I find here to be more than adequate." A large smile breaks across Abigail's face. She holds out her middle and pointer finger across the table. He rubs his adjacent fingers against hers. He smiles in that way that isn't smiling and continues to eat his meal, possibly quicker than he would another day. Abigail continues in the same manner.
Soon the dishes are in the sink and Abigail takes Saren's hand. She slowly leads them up the stairs, her eyes strained ahead in a nervous gesture. Saren watches the way her thick blonde waves tickle the bare skin of her shoulders.
The stairs threaten to be a bit dangerous but despite that they find their way safely to the top. The sound of the hardwood is rhythmic as their boots hit against the short hall floor. Abigail reaches her other hand forward and grips the doorknob. She seems to count in her head before turning and pushing it open.
She sits down on the bed with Saren standing in front of her. She holds his hands in hers and looks into his eyes. They are both silent for what seems like the first time in a long time. He is watching her closely, not daring to move.
After what seems like an eternity Abigail lets out a long breathe and pulls him in close enough to touch her lips to hers.
She kisses him softly, closing her eyes and trailing one of her hands to the side of his face. The hand she lets go of travels and is ultimately placed on the back of her shoulder. He lifts a leg and puts a knee onto the bed inching her back to make room for his weight.
Soon he is on top of her, a knee on either side of her full hips. He kisses her lips more firmly.
His mouth tastes like tomato sauce and lettuce, she is sure her mouth tastes the same. She holds her hands half against his neck and half against the back of his head in an unnecessary attempt to keep his lips place firmly against hers.
He moves his hands down her shoulder making her shiver from the light contact. He weighs a little more heavily on her as he moves his hands down her sides until he reaches the hem of her thin shirt he gives it a little tug and exposes a short expanse of her abdomen, he pulls a little more and she sits up onto her elbows until the shirt is lifted enough to expose her yellow lace bra. She pulls off the shirt herself then tugs at his.
He takes off his shirt and the wife beater underneath it at the same time and starts the work on his buckle. He undoes it along with his zipper them moves his hands over the bare flesh of her upper body. Her skin is soft under his calloused hands. The rough touch causes another shiver and when he kisses her neck a soft moan. He nibbles her shoulder and watches with half a smirk as she squirms against the feeling.
His expert hands fail at unhooking her bra and she moves onto her elbows again to remove the offending fabric. He takes a soft breast into his large hand and molds it like clay, moving as if he is creating a delicate Vulcan vase.
She pulls him down and kisses his lips again. Her lips evoke every ounce of passion she is feeling into him, igniting his fire. He moves his hips against hers in a half involuntary movement. She moans into his lips. After a moment more she moves her hands to his waist band and tears the materials down. They falls just above his knees and he rolls onto his back to finish removing them.
She takes the opportunity to remove her own pants, tempted by modesty she almost leaves her underwear on but decides doing so would be inefficient and takes them off as well. This all takes place in a moment and he is back on top of her in a second.
He kisses her lips again, then her cheek, her jawbone, neck, nibbles he collar bone, then the flesh of her breast. Each movement elicits a soft or deep sound driven from Abigail's swollen lips.
"Saren" she finally says and lifts him back to equal footing. The look of need in her eyes tells him everything.
He breaks against her barrier and thrust deep inside of her. She alternates between clutching the sheets and leaving marks on his back as they move together in pure fiery bliss.
He pulls his name from her tongue once again in one burning instant at the precipice of existential pleasure and joy. He falls against her limp for a moment and rolls next to her leaving their skin flush and their breath heavy beyond belief.
She closes her eyes against the pounding rush of blood behind her eyes and holds his hand in hers. Soon sleep overtakes them and the spring breeze from the open window cools their burning bodies.
Disclaimer: Thank you for reading this far. Please leave any thoughts you have and let me know what you would like to see next.