Forever by Pati Nagle

I’d known he was there, but then if Buzz-cut had seen me talking to Lomen, his opinion of me would probably have plummeted.
    “I was all right,” I said, starting toward home again. “Thanks for caring.”
    We walked together, passing through pools of shade cast by old elms and intermittent blinding sun. I felt unsettled—not annoyed, exactly, but not happy—about Lomen’s tailing me. After a while I figured out that it was his sneaking up on me that bothered me the most. The fact that he’d done it so easily. Made me feel vulnerable; made me think about Kimberly and the other victim. Had they even seen it coming?
    I’ve displeased you. I’m sorry.
    No, I—it’s all right.
    The contact was a relief. When I could feel him, I knew things were OK. When I couldn’t, my paranoid brain made up all kinds of problems.
    We reached the apartment and I pulled out my keys. As I unlocked the door I wondered if the neighbors were watching, if the police had asked them about me.
    I held the door for Lomen to go in, then closed it behind us. The front room was untidy from my hasty departure. I straightened a couple of books I’d left on the desk. Physics, as it happened.
    I couldn’t help feeling awkward. He came to me and took my pack, set it on the desk. I took a deep breath.
    Would you like to see my room?
    Yes.
    I led him down the hall, anticipation driving away the weariness of the long, somewhat stressful day. I went in and turned on the lamp on my dresser. Didn’t want the overhead light.
    I watched him take in my room. The furniture was sparse; my taste runs toward austerity, I suppose. I didn’t have any mementos, other than a few favorite books: Lord of the Rings, Darkover, Sandman.
    I had cut a lot of ties when I left home. Quite intentionally. My family didn’t like who I’d grown into, and I didn’t like them trying to keep me from being myself. So, high school diploma in hand, I’d said goodbye and come north, hoping to find more tolerance, and maybe even some good company.
    It’s a nice room. Restful.
    Thanks. The walls are kind of thin.
    Then we’ll be quiet.
    A tingle ran through me. I stepped toward Lomen and he turned to me, welcoming. I brushed his hair with my fingers, something I’d been longing to do. It was silky soft.
    He waited, letting me take the lead. A kiss, then another, less hesitant. I tasted his neck where it met his shoulder. Hint of salt, and a whisper of sandalwood. I drew him down to the bed.
    Your turn.
    I echoed what he’d done for me—undid his jeans and found him ready, which made me unbearably hot. He tasted wonderful.
    It wasn’t long before he pulled off his shirt and pulled me up onto the bed with him. My clothes faded away and our minds blended together along with our bodies.
    Words fail to convey how amazing telepathic sex is. Those two words sound flat and technical, when the sensation is … beyond elation. I can’t do it justice.
    I don’t know how many times we came to the brink and he said wait and we both held still, aching to come. The last three times were in quick succession, I remember that. And then complete loss of control. And collapse. And glowing exhaustion.
    I became aware of myself with the sensation of his hand gently stroking my back. I raised my head to look at him, found him smiling lazily. I shifted so I could kiss him. He responded with languid enthusiasm.
    We should get to Caeran’s soon. They will be expecting us.
    I looked around him at the clock. Almost six.
    OK.
    I sat up, feeling a little groggy. We were still deeply connected, which meant our senses overlapped and I had two views of the bedroom, overlaid. I felt him draw back a little.
    I wondered if we’d made much noise. Not that it mattered, because omigod. I’d do it again in a hot second.
    He chuckled. I gave him a dirty look.
    Reading my mind again.
    I make no apologies. And by the way, I agree.
    You’re going out hunting alben again tonight?
    Every night, until we find