and the other riders had a hard few weeks ahead of them, but her hand was in Ivan’s, and together they could do anything.
Chapter 13
Three weeks later
Sofie was too thin. Ivan ran his hand over her ribcage and the dip of her belly as she slept deeply beside him in the lumpy motel bed. They’d have to leave soon to continue the second leg of their journey home from Mississippi, but she needed her rest after the ordeal they’d been through. Being placed in separate cells with the other Freedom Riders had given them some level of safety, but many of the guards had tried to break them. Food had been scant and, when it arrived, nearly inedible. Mattresses and toothbrushes and privacy had been taken away as punishment for the songs they sang constantly to keep themselves motivated. As more and more young people from across the country joined the ride, the cells were filled to many times over their capacities, which was the only reason Ivan and Sofie had been released.
They’d been able to send each other notes through prison workers sympathetic to the Freedom Riders’ plight, but he’d still missed her something terrible. Their reunion on the wagon, after he thought he’d lost her for good, had been too short. Having her warm and smooth beside him as he’d imagined for so long—it was more powerful than any rush of endorphins after a boxing match.
He loved her, even if it was too early to tell her that. She’d already skittered away when he’d jokingly dropped to one knee when they met outside the gates of Parchman, reminding him marriage was illegal where they were from, so he tucked that idea away for a time when she was ready, if she ever was. Ivan wasn’t in any rush, despite the fact that he’d nearly spilled before he touched her the night before.
His member stiffened at the thought of their first time making love. They’d both known what awaited them as they wandered from the bus depot; even the disapproving look the man at the motel’s front desk gave them had done nothing to dampen how much they wanted each other.
Nothing could stop that, it seemed.
The room they were in wasn’t anywhere near good enough for Sofie, but it beat the amenities at Parchman. After weeks of crawling in his skin, the shower at the motel had seemed like a spa. When Sofie had emerged from the bathroom and laid her towel down on the bed, fear and determination and lust in her gaze, it’d seemed like whatever Christians must imagine heaven to be like.
Sofie stirred beneath his hand and turned sleepy brown eyes on him, disturbing his recollection of the way she’d been so pliant beneath him just hours before. Ivan felt pinned by her gaze, like he’d been hit by a surprise blow.
“Did you know you laugh in your sleep?” he asked because he couldn’t think of anything else to say. “It’s kind of creepy. What were you dreaming about?”
Her eyes shimmered with mirth as she shook her head. “I don’t remember. All I know is you were there, and that made everything all right.”
Warmth rushed through Ivan, converging at a particular point in his chest
“Something’s poking me,” she said suddenly. Her voice was husky with sleep, but she was alert enough to reach down and embrace the hardening length of him in her fist. Pleasure marched up Ivan’s spine as she smiled at him innocently while caressing him beneath the sheets. “There’s a strange object in the bed with us. Maybe I should investigate.”
“Ever intrepid Sofronia,” he said, the S in her name coming out as a hiss because her touch felt so good.
He closed his fist around her hand as she stroked him, preventing her from making him blow too fast. When she released him, uncertain, he rolled over so that she was beneath him. He slid his arms beneath her back so that he cradled her, and settled between her legs, teasingly close to her warm entrance. “My, my, my. Little miss church girl sure has developed an appetite.”
Sofie ran her hands over
Chapter 13
Three weeks later
Sofie was too thin. Ivan ran his hand over her ribcage and the dip of her belly as she slept deeply beside him in the lumpy motel bed. They’d have to leave soon to continue the second leg of their journey home from Mississippi, but she needed her rest after the ordeal they’d been through. Being placed in separate cells with the other Freedom Riders had given them some level of safety, but many of the guards had tried to break them. Food had been scant and, when it arrived, nearly inedible. Mattresses and toothbrushes and privacy had been taken away as punishment for the songs they sang constantly to keep themselves motivated. As more and more young people from across the country joined the ride, the cells were filled to many times over their capacities, which was the only reason Ivan and Sofie had been released.
They’d been able to send each other notes through prison workers sympathetic to the Freedom Riders’ plight, but he’d still missed her something terrible. Their reunion on the wagon, after he thought he’d lost her for good, had been too short. Having her warm and smooth beside him as he’d imagined for so long—it was more powerful than any rush of endorphins after a boxing match.
He loved her, even if it was too early to tell her that. She’d already skittered away when he’d jokingly dropped to one knee when they met outside the gates of Parchman, reminding him marriage was illegal where they were from, so he tucked that idea away for a time when she was ready, if she ever was. Ivan wasn’t in any rush, despite the fact that he’d nearly spilled before he touched her the night before.
His member stiffened at the thought of their first time making love. They’d both known what awaited them as they wandered from the bus depot; even the disapproving look the man at the motel’s front desk gave them had done nothing to dampen how much they wanted each other.
Nothing could stop that, it seemed.
The room they were in wasn’t anywhere near good enough for Sofie, but it beat the amenities at Parchman. After weeks of crawling in his skin, the shower at the motel had seemed like a spa. When Sofie had emerged from the bathroom and laid her towel down on the bed, fear and determination and lust in her gaze, it’d seemed like whatever Christians must imagine heaven to be like.
Sofie stirred beneath his hand and turned sleepy brown eyes on him, disturbing his recollection of the way she’d been so pliant beneath him just hours before. Ivan felt pinned by her gaze, like he’d been hit by a surprise blow.
“Did you know you laugh in your sleep?” he asked because he couldn’t think of anything else to say. “It’s kind of creepy. What were you dreaming about?”
Her eyes shimmered with mirth as she shook her head. “I don’t remember. All I know is you were there, and that made everything all right.”
Warmth rushed through Ivan, converging at a particular point in his chest
“Something’s poking me,” she said suddenly. Her voice was husky with sleep, but she was alert enough to reach down and embrace the hardening length of him in her fist. Pleasure marched up Ivan’s spine as she smiled at him innocently while caressing him beneath the sheets. “There’s a strange object in the bed with us. Maybe I should investigate.”
“Ever intrepid Sofronia,” he said, the S in her name coming out as a hiss because her touch felt so good.
He closed his fist around her hand as she stroked him, preventing her from making him blow too fast. When she released him, uncertain, he rolled over so that she was beneath him. He slid his arms beneath her back so that he cradled her, and settled between her legs, teasingly close to her warm entrance. “My, my, my. Little miss church girl sure has developed an appetite.”
Sofie ran her hands over
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