By the Sea of Sand Read online

  “That’s Mao’s boat.” The small voice piped up from just outside the doorway.

  Jodah looked up to see Teila’s son peeking in at him. He paused to make sure the whirring saw he’d been using to trim away the damaged wood was well out of the way. “Yes. I’m fixing it for her. Want to come in and help me?”

  The boy looked solemn. “Amira Densi says I’m not to bother you.”

  “It’s no bother. My father never let me—” Jodah stopped, flickers of memory rising to his mind’s surface like the shadow of a reflection in a mug of caffah. “He never let me help him with anything. He always said I’d get in the way.”

  The boy sidled his way into the shed, but didn’t come any closer. Jodah didn’t try to make him, either, but he did keep an eye on him as he finished removing the damaged wood and tossed it into the pile of scraps. This left a fist-sized hole in the bottom of the scudder. Carefully, Jodah put the saw away and gestured to the boy.

  “Come here, Stephin. Look at this.”

  Reluctantly, the boy came closer, though he looked ready to run at any minute. Jodah held out his hand, fingers curling. Stephin didn’t take it, but he did move within grabbing distance. It was a start.

  “You see the hole here?”

  The boy nodded. “It will make the boat sink if the sand gets in.”

  “Yes. So we have to fix it. See how I cut away all the ragged pieces?” Step by step, Jodah walked Stephin through the repair. Smoothing the edges of the hole, cutting a new piece of wood big enough to repair it, affixing the patch.

  They hadn’t gotten further than picking out a piece of scrap wood big enough to make the patch when the shed door opened and Teila came in. “Stephin! By the Three, you scared the life out of us! Amira Densi has been looking everywhere for you. You know better than to just go away without telling anyone.”

  “She was sleeping,” the boy said. “I couldn’t wake her up.”

  Teila shook him a little by the shoulder. Not hard or rough, but firm. Then she gathered him into her arms for a hug, which he protested, as she looked over his shoulder at Jodah.

  “I’m sorry if he was bothering you.”

  “He was no bother. Really. He was a great help. He can come help me anytime.”

  The way to a man’s heart was well known to be between his legs, but the way to a woman’s could very well be through her child, he thought. At this thought, that he wanted a way to her heart, the data stream became clear and blinding again. Wincing, Jodah put his hand to his temples to press away the pain.

  “Stephin, go inside and find Amira Densi and tell her you’re sorry for scaring her.” When the boy made a small protest, Teila gave him a serious look. “Go. Now.”

  When he’d gone, she turned to Jodah. “It’s not good for him to go off without telling anyone.”

  “The boy’s old enough to be allowed some freedom.”

  It was the wrong thing to say, he saw that at once. Her eyes narrowed and her mouth went grim. He might not remember much about his life, but he instinctively knew when he’d pissed off a woman.

  “You think so? You think he should be allowed to wander around by himself? He’s four years old. You think he should be allowed to go where he pleases? Maybe you think he ought to make himself at home in the sea, ride the back of a whale? That would be a fitting occupation for a four-year-old, would it?”

  “If you never give him any freedom, how can you ever expect him to learn any caution?” Jodah set the tools to the side of the workbench and dusted his hands on the seat of his robes.

  “I realize,” she said in a voice as chilly as the sunsless night, “that you think you’re being helpful, but you’re not.”

  He didn’t need another hint. Jodah held up his hands, conciliatory. “You’re right. I’m sorry. He’s not my son, I shouldn’t interfere.”

  Teila made a startled sound as he turned to face her. “It’s just that he hasn’t had . . . there hasn’t been . . . anyone. To be a father to him.”

  The pride in her expression moved him. They stared at each other across the small space, a heat that had little to do with the suns overhead rising between them. He understood a lot about her now, or at least he thought he did.

  “Nobody for you, either.”

  Her eyelids fluttered a few times before she ducked her head. Then she covered her eyes with her hand. Her shoulders heaved.

  He’d made her cry.

  The fucking they’d done hadn’t been about seduction. He’d taken her—though not by force, at least there was that. He wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if he knew he’d done that. But it had been under false pretenses on his part. He’d wondered at her motivation for allowing him the use of her body. Now he understood.

  “Come here,” he told her.

  Teila looked up at him with wet eyes and parted lips. At first she didn’t move, but then slowly, one foot in front of the other, she went to him. He pushed the weight of her hair off her shoulders so it fell down her back. Then, unable to help himself, he gathered it in his hands and pulled her close to him.

  She smelled so good. He breathed her in again and again. Again. He pressed his face to the fall of her hair, his hands roaming over her back. She was so small, yet not delicate.

  “You’re strong,” he whispered into her ear. “Do you know how strong you are?”

  Her arms went around him. “I don’t feel strong.”

  “You are.” He rubbed her back in slow circles, feeling the knobs of her bones through her robes. Lower, over her hips and then to her rear, which he cupped to pull her against him.

  It should’ve made sense. He’d been without real human contact for a long time. Without a real woman’s touch. It should’ve been nothing but natural for him to want her . . . except that it was just her and only her who affected him this way. Pera’s overtures had left him cold.

  He needed her mouth. Her tongue. He needed to taste and feel her, to be inside her. When his fingers threaded through her hair, she moaned and pressed against him. Her breasts, so full, beckoned for his kisses, and he pulled open the laces of her robes to get at them.

  The skin there was paler, more golden than the rest of her skin. Her nipples, the color of sweet wine and as delicious. He suckled them, groaning as her sweetness exploded on his tongue.

  His cock was aching, rock hard. He lifted her so she could wrap her legs around his waist, her robes falling open so he could still get at the sensitive flesh beneath. She shook her head, murmuring what sounded like a protest but became a plea when he rubbed his erection between her legs.

  He walked her to the workbench and settled her ass on it. Kissing her mouth, he worked a hand between her thighs to find her clit. She was wet already, her cunt slick and hot. He slipped his fingers inside, relishing the way she shuddered as he curled them upward. His thumb pressed her clit. His other hand captured the back of her neck, holding her to his mouth even as she squirmed.

  He wanted her to beg him to take her.

  He first spread her legs, then her labia, and found the pearl of her clit with his tongue. The workbench creaked as Teila arched under his mouth. Her fingers dug into his hair, pulling hard enough to sting. His hands lifted her ass, holding her still as he worked between her legs .

  She cried out when she came, bucking against his lips. Her taste flooded him, sending shocks of pleasure straight to his cock. He looked up and found her glassy-eyed, mouth moist from the swipe of her tongue over her lips. Her hair had tumbled over her shoulders and forehead.

  She drew in a breath and made as though to speak, but he didn’t give her the chance. His mouth was on hers, silencing everything but her moan. He shifted her to the edge of the workbench. His cock nudged her entrance, but he didn’t push inside. He pressed his thumb to her clit, moving it in infinitesimal circles, feeling the pulse of her orgasm still beating there.

  His eyes met hers. She licked her mouth again, and though he desperately wanted to kiss her, he held off. His thumb moved, s