0 comments/  26350 views/  8 favorites

The Lost Ones Ch. 1

By: Seneca



"You look like you've lost your best friend in the whole world."

The observation came out of the blue, and Miranda started, just a bit, as a man stopped beside the large rock upon which she'd been sitting, watching the sun set over the ocean. "Excuse me?"

He shrugged. "Just an observation. The way you were sitting there, staring out over the water, you look so forlorn...so alone." He smiled suddenly. "I'm Hunter," he said, sticking out his hand.

"Layna," she said, taking the proffered hand for a quick shake. "And, no, I haven't lost my best friend. I guess I'm just feeling a bit homesick."

"I know the feeling. I take it you're not from around here." It wasn't a question, but Miranda responded anyway.

"No, I'm not. I'm just traveling...exploring, I guess. Seeing what there is to be seen." Searching, she added in her mind. Searching for the Lost Ones...

"Me too." He grinned impishly. "Technically, I'm a student at the community college in town, but that was really just an excuse to get away from home."

"You're a little old to be a college student, aren't you?" He looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties to her. 

"Hey, it's never to late to learn," he said with quiet dignity, but his eyes were sparkling with mischief. Then the grin flashed again. "Besides, like I said, college is just an excuse."

Miranda nodded. "To get away from home."

"Exactly. My father has all these big plans for me. I'm not exactly sure I want to play along. So, I ran away."

"Oh, you bad boy, you!" Miranda grinned herself as she slid off the rock and dusted the seat of her shorts free of sand. She felt Hunter watching as she walked to the edge of the water and rinsed her fingers in the surf. As she straightened and tucked her damp hands into the back pockets of her shorts, he came up alongside her. "I love the sea," he whispered. "There's something very magical about it. I don't know what it is..."

Miranda looked at him, really looked at him, for the first time since he'd arrived on the lonely stretch of beach she'd claimed as her own. She had to admit, he was a spectacularly good look man. The setting sun had burnished his short black hair with gold and copper highlights. His eyes were dark, almost black, with startling silvery flecks. He was tall, broad shouldered, narrow hiped, his well toned body shown off to perfection in a tight black tee shirt and well worn denim cutoffs. A truly gorgeous human being.

"Yes," she agreed with his statement. "It is magical." Together they stood at surf's edge and watched the sun's fiery orb vanish below the watery horizon. Miranda sighed. "Beautiful. I never get tired of watching that." Once again, she felt his eyes on her, and when she looked at him, she found him staring at her in the oddest way. "What? Hunter, what is it?"

He licked his lips. "I want you to know something."

"What?"

"I want you to know that I've...I've never done this before in my life."

She cocked her head to the side. "Done what?"

"This..." Miranda's eyes widened as Hunter's hand came up to cup her cheek, as his face lowered to her, and her eyes fluttered shut as his lips sealed hers. She gasped as a shock ran through her, causing her body to react in a totally unexpected, totally sexual way. His kiss was gentle but firm, his tongue running along the seam of her lips, encouraging them to open and let him in.

Suddenly, he pulled back, staring down at her in shock. "Oh, Miranda. I'm sorry! I..." Before he could complete the statement, Miranda reached up and fisted her hands in his hair, pulling his mouth back within reach of hers. This time she was the aggressor, and Hunter only gave a half hearted groan of protest before his arms wrapped around her and he pulled her tight to his body. He was hard, she realized. As aroused as she, and though it was totally crazy, she knew then and there that the sun would not rise again without her having joined with him.

She writhed in his arms, rubbing her heavy, tingling breasts against his chest, raining kisses on his cheeks and chin, nipping at the side of his neck before returning to once again feast on his lips. Hunter's hands slid down and gripped her buttocks, lifting her and grinding his erection against her. Never breaking the frenzied kiss, he walked away from the surf, staggering through the loose sand, until he reached the rock upon which she'd earlier been sitting. He pressed her against it's hard surface, holding her in place with his hips as his fingers frantically worked the buttons of her shirt free. With a growl of frustration, he gave her shirt a yank, popping off the last two buttons and reaching for the clasp at the front of her bra. When her breasts were bared to his eyes and hands, he purred in pleasure and buried his face in her ample cleavage, nipping and licking the soft golden mounds before latching onto the nipple like a starving infant and sucking, hard. Miranda flung her head back and cried out long and loud at the powerful sensation that drove the breath from her body.

Finally she could take no more, and pushed him away slightly to get to the button fly of his cutoffs. With trembling fingers she opened his fly just enough to reach inside, past the silky smoothness of his boxers, to free his heavy penis. He was huge, fire hot and throbbing. He growled as she stroked him, thrusting against her hand, head flung back in pleasure. "Now!" she whispered. "Now, Hunter!"

He didn't have to be asked twice. He released her long enough to shove her shorts off her legs, and lifted her against the rock again. Miranda gasped in shocked pleasure as he positioned himself between her thighs and began to press inward. He was so big, she felt herself stretched almost beyond belief. Her chest heaved as he leaned forward, resting on her body. Once seated to the hilt, he pulled back slightly, black and silver eyes flashing. Then he began to thrust, and Miranda fell like she was going to explode. It was too much, he was too much. Once again he pulled her tight into his arms, spreading his legs as he thrust heavily into her so that each pass rubbed hard against her clit. Gasping, drenched in sweat, it only took a few thrusts for her to sink her nails into his broad, cloth covered back and spasm in orgasm. As he body clenched, she felt Hunter stiffen, heard him groan, and then felt the scalding rush of his seed into her belly. 

She held on tight, her body still linked with his, as he slowly tipped over backward, landing with a thud in the cooling sand. "Oh...my...God!" he gasped.

Miranda curled up on top of him, rubbing against him like a cat. "Oh, yea," she agreed.

They just lay there in the sand for a long time, watching as the final rosy fingers of sunset faded from the night sky. When total darkness had finally fallen, Miranda pushed herself upright, straddling him. Her mouth curved into a sexy smile as she felt him harden within her again. She wriggled her hips against his, and he grinned. "Again?"

"Um-hmm." She leaned down next to his ear. "And again, and again, and again. For as long as you can keep it up."

"Oh, baby," Hunter murmured as she again rolled her hips. He grabbed her butt to stop the motion. "Not here. We'll end up with sand in some really unpleasant places." Reluctantly, Miranda nodded, and slowly, every so slowly, pulled herself off his impressive erection. She stood beside him, slowly, teasingly removing the last of her clothing and slipping out of her sandals. She glanced over her shoulder as she walked naked to the surf line and stepped into the incoming tide.

* * *

He'd never felt anything like this before in his life. Quickly he got up and shed the sand-covered remains of his own clothing, watching as lovely Miranda frolicked like a child in the surf, golden body and hair gleaming in the faint starlight. She held her arms out to him as he reached the edge of the water, and without hesitation, he joined her in the water. For a time he was content to swim and play with her, amusement racing through him as she would slip below the waves and swim up to him, touching, stroking, even nipping occasionally before darting away like a curious minnow. Her teasing kept him in a state of heavy arousal, longer than he'd ever held and erection before. Finally, he could take no more, and when she swam up to him, he reached out and grabbed her under the arms, hauling her up against him, rubbing against her. "I need you again," he breathed against her warm, wet skin. In response, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, legs around his hips, squirming around until her moist opening was poised against the straining head of his manhood. "Not here," he breathed as she began to lower herself over him. "We'll drown!"

"No we won't, Love," she whispered back, sinking fully onto him. "I won't let us drown." Hunter staggered back a few steps, trying to get them out of the water before he collapsed, but Miranda was too eager, pressing her heals against his butt, grinding herself eagerly on him. With a gasp of inevitability, Hunter felt his legs buckle, and hoped that the water was shallow enough that they would stay above.

* * *

Miranda could see he was lost. The water they were in was deep, deeper than they were tall when anywhere but on their feet. As he sank slowly below the surface, Miranda leaned forward and locked her lips to his in a deep, openmouthed kiss. Unable to resist, Hunter was thrusting his penis deeper and deeper into her belly, rubbing the thick head against the mouth to her womb. His eyes flashed open as they sank below the waves and were tugged by the current into deeper water, black and silver meeting gold and green, and with a reassuring squeeze of arms and legs, Miranda opened herself to the water, allowing part of her true nature to take over.

The thin, almost invisible gill slits on the sides of her neck fluttered open, allowing precious, oxygen rich sea water to flow over them. She filled her lungs with air reclaimed from the ocean and exhaled deeply into Hunter's lungs. She began to breathe for them both, allowing him to concentrate on making love to her. This time, cushioned by the sea, the loving was long and slow and leisurely, his thrusts much more gentle, but just as deep, just as pleasurable. Miranda kept her arms locked around his neck, her lips pressed tightly to his as his hands roamed from hip to breast, squeezing her gently, rubbing his fingers back and forth over her sensitive nipples. The sensation sent a dart of pleasure through her, and she stiffened in his arms, almost forgetting to breath for them both. She squirmed and writhed in his arms as he began to move faster, his climax rapidly approaching. He gripped her hips with bruising force, fighting the resistance of the water as he quickened his pace. When culmination was finally upon him, he slipped a hand between their bodies, and rubbed hard and fast against her clit, bringing her to orgasm just as he reached climax himself, exploding deep within her.

Lips still pressed together, Miranda opened her eyes and gazed deeply into his black and silver ones. She could see the shock of what she had revealed to him creeping into his awareness. But right now she could not give him the explanation he would seek. Giving him one last deep breath, she pulled her lips and body from his and pushed him away. He shot like a rocket toward the surface of the water, and Miranda held herself deep below, watching as an incoming wave picked up his unresisting form and swept it toward shore.

"I'll come back to you," she whispered into his mind. "Wait for me."

To Be Continued...

The Lost Ones Ch. 2



Hunter opened his eyes and glared at the alarm clock on his night stand. He contemplated flinging the annoying thing against the wall to shut it up, but in a moment of sanity, remembered that he'd already done that twice this month, and two dead alarm clocks was his quota for the month. Besides, for some reason his arms really did not feel like moving from their place of rest tucked under his pillow. He felt like he'd been on a three day bender, without the throbbing head. "What the hell happened to me?" he wondered.

Then he remembered. The beach, the sunset. Miranda. Two delicious, toe curling, brain frying bouts of sex. Water...

Wait a minute! This had to be a dream. There is no way in hell he'd had sex last night with a gorgeous, golden woman who'd suddenly sprouted gills. No way! The whole episode must have been a figment of his overly tired mind. He had, after all, just spent two weeks cramming for and taking final exams. And he hadn't been with a woman in at least six months. His over-tired, under-sexed brain had probably short circuited, creating his lovely mermaid.

With a groan, he rolled out of bed and darn near tripped over the pile of clothing laying on the floor beside his bed. He picked up the dirty, ragged, sand crusted shorts and tee shirt. Ugh. What a mess. Well, obviously the rolling around in the sand part of last night was real. He grabbed an old grocery store plastic bag and started shoving his clothing in. He'd take them outside and shake the sand out of them later.

A flash of white caught his eye. Warily he picked up the scrap of white cloth, his befuddled brain refusing for a moment to register what it was he was holding. It was a bra. Just as sand crusted as his own clothing. Looking around, he spotted a couple more scraps of sandy clothing sitting in a pile beside his bedroom door. A woman's dark blue shorts and a green blouse, missing the bottom two buttons. "Oh, God..." he groaned. The clothing was real, and just as he remembered it, so the woman must have been real, too. But how was that possible?

Dropping the bag and clothing on the floor, he staggered into the bathroom and flicked on the lights. He leaned over the sink and splashed several hand fulls of water on his face. As he stood up, a twinge from his back had him turning around and peering over his shoulder. His back was pretty well scratched up. With a disbelieving shake of his head, he remembered Miranda, caught in the throes of orgasm, sinking her fingernails into his back, scratching like a mad cat.

Just as he was about to flick off the bathroom light, he happened to glance out the window. There was a park across from his apartment. Well tended, it boasted lush green grass dotted with ancient oaks and maple trees and well tended flower beds. Scattered amid the trees and blossoms were benches and tables used mostly by the college students from the nearby campus. Sitting on one of the benches, staring up at the building housing his apartment, was a woman. A woman with smooth golden skin and long, burnished gold hair. Hunter stepped closer to the window, whacking his toe painfully on the base of the toilet. He barely noticed. Was it? Could it be?

It was.

Miranda.

Hunter barely took time to throw on a pair of shorts and a shirt. Unwilling to wait for the elevator, he bombed down the three flights of stairs at breakneck speed, somehow convinced that she would disappear while out of his sight. But she didn't. When he burst through the front door to the apartment building, not only was she still there, but she had crossed the street and was approaching the steps. He stood at the top and looked down at her, mouth agape.

"Hunter," she said softly.

"You're real," he breathed, walking down the steps one at a time, until he was standing before her. "I thought I'd dreamed you."

"I'm real," she assured him. "I told you I'd come back."

"You did, didn't you?" She nodded. "We have to talk." Again, she nodded. "Come on. I have some questions, and I don't want the neighbors eavesdropping on our conversation." He took her hand and led her inside the building and back up the three flights of stairs.

* * *

Once again totally alone with him, Miranda was suddenly nervous. As he threw on a pot of coffee, she wandered around the living room, looking at his things. She didn't sit down until he entered the room with two steaming cups of coffee. She took the one he offered her and sat down on the edge of his couch.

He stared into his coffee cup for a long moment, before lifting that unusual black-and-silver gaze and pinning her with it. "What are you? Some sort of mermaid?"

"That's a human term," she said, "but accurate enough. We're a primarily aquatic, amphibious species. We're capable of living on dry land, but most of us prefer living undersea." 

"So, when you get wet, you can grow fins?"

"We can will various degrees of Change. Last night the tail fin wasn't necessary, but the gills were."

"Tail fin." Sounding stunned, he dropped his head into his hands.

"I know this is hard for you, Hunter. I never intended for last night to happen." He looked up and she smiled gently. She walked over to him and knelt at his feet, taking his hands in hers. "But I'm not sorry it did."

He looked down at her and returned her smile. "I'm not sorry it did, either." He caressed her face with his fingertips, a look of wonder crossing his expression. "A mermaid. Don't that just beat all." Miranda smiled up at him, pleased by his reaction. She had been dreading the possibility that this man would not be able to accept her. And for some reason she did not understand, it was very important that he accept her. It was a conundrum she would ponder later--right now she had...other things on her mind.

Miranda turned her head, pressing a kiss against the palm of his caressing hand. At the same time she began to rub his legs, stroking gently the bare flesh between his knees and the edge of his hastily donned shorts. As his body began to react, he grasped her wrists, stopping their motion. "Oh, Miranda, baby are you sure?"

"Very sure. I want you, Hunter." He released her wrists and Miranda slowly slid her hands up the leg holes of his shorts. When she encountered nothing but smooth skin, soft hair and hard male flesh, she grinned wickedly at him. "No underwear? You bad boy. You're lucky you didn't get it stuck in your zipper."

"Been there, done that," he gasped as her hand grasped him and squeezed. "Why...do you think...I wear...button flys? Oh, Miranda!" Hunter slapped his hands down over his crotch, capturing her hand against him, rubbing himself hard against her fingers. "That feels so good," he groaned.

Tugging her hands free, Miranda brushed his hands aside and went to work on the buttons of his shorts. In a moment she had them undone and was tugging them down over his buttocks. While she worked he pulled his shirt off and in short order he was lying sprawled in the chair, totally naked. She leaned back, slightly, for the first time able to get a good look at him. He was gorgeous. All smooth, tanned skin, lightly dusted with soft dark hair. Long, lean muscles. Long and thick, his manhood rose out of its nest of dark curls and lay against his belly, dark red and throbbing. Miranda ran her fingertips gently over him, thrilled by the groan even her lightest touch evoked.

Hunter watched her through slitted eyes as she explored his body and just about drove him out of his skull. Her fingers were so soft, so gentle, as if she were afraid of hurting him. She kept glancing up at him, gauging his reaction to each touch, each caress. The bore her teasing as long as humanly possible, but when she held his shaft with one hand and began fondling his balls with the other, he lunged upward and grasped her by the arms, dragging her to her feet. "Good God, woman!" he snarled, scooping her up into his arms and heading toward the bedroom.

As soon as she was settled in his arms, she reached up and claimed his lips in a soul-deep kiss. He stopped in the doorway and leaned against the frame as he plunged his tongue into her mouth, dueling with hers, thrusting and retreating. When they finally broke the kiss he set her on her feet and led her toward the bed, all the while pulling at her clothing. By the time they reached the king sized bed, she was as naked as he. With a growl, she turned him and pushed him down on the bed, determined to resume her exploration. But Hunter had had enough. With a growl of his own, he grabbed her by the arms and dragged her upward over his body until she was sitting astride him. "No more fooling around," he whispered hoarsely.

With a sexy smile, Miranda gripped his manhood and held it upright. Their eyes locked as she slid down over him, enveloping him in her warmth and moisture. Oh, he was so big, so hard, and he was practically shaking with lust. Miranda rearranged her legs under her and, balancing herself with her hands on his chest, began a slow, rhythmic ride. Hunter grasped her hips with almost bruising force, encouraging her without words to go harder, faster. Her mouth twitched teasingly as she came to a complete halt. "No," he groaned. "No, don't stop..." She pressed her fingertips against his lips, shushing his words, and then leaned down and returned his favor of the night before, taking his nipple in her mouth and sucking and nibbling at it until he was writhing on the bed feverishly. Only then did she sit back up and begin riding again.

Hunter had had enough of her teasing. With a surge he wrapped his arms around her and rolled, tucking her body neatly under his. Miranda gasped as he slipped his arms under hers and gripped her shoulders. Thus firmly held, he began to thrust hard and fast. Miranda moaned, caught on the knife's edge of pleasurable explosion. And then he stopped, frozen, and she felt climax rip through him, dragging her along with him. She wrapped her legs around his hips, locking her ankles together, holding him as tight as she could against her, inside her. They were both of them frozen for a long moment, as wave after wave of ecstasy broke over them.

And then the frenzy was gone, leaving them languid and sated in a sweaty puddle in the middle of his bed. Hunter barely had the energy to roll to the side to keep his weight from crushing her. She didn't let him get to far. The moment he was on his back, she cuddled close to his side, throwing one leg over his hips and resting her head on his chest.

Exhausted, they slept.

To Be Continued...



The Lost Ones Ch. 3



The late afternoon sun was slanting through the bedroom windows, casting their bodies in a golden glow when the grumbling of an empty stomach and the insistent pressure of an over full bladder roused Hunter from his contented slumber. He awoke to find Miranda wrapped around him like a boa constrictor, and though he was loath to awaken her, he knew he needed a bathroom and then some food, pronto. He moved as slowly as he could, trying to slip out from under her arms and legs, but each movement caused her to squirm a little closer, hold on a little tighter. Finally, he realized he was going to have to wake her to get away from her. "Miranda," he said softly, so as not to startle her away. "Miranda, honey, you have to wake up now." Her only response was to mutter something unintelligible and snuggle closer, burying her nose in his neck. He gave her shoulder a little shake and spoke a bit louder. "Miranda, wake up."

"Hmmm?" she murmured.

"Come on, all the way awake, baby."

Her eyes fluttered open, and she gave him a sleepy, provocative smile. "Hi."

"Hi. You've got to let me go now."

Her eyes closed again. "Don't wanna let go. Wanna hold on forever. Like it here..." He could tell she was still half asleep and about to doze off again.

"Be that as it may, babe, I have to go to the bathroom very, very badly. You have to let go." Something of his desperation must have gotten through to her because she roused enough to untangle her arms and legs from his. The moment he was free, he dashed across the room and into the bathroom.

When he emerged a few moments later, Miranda had wrapped herself around his pillow the way she'd been wrapped around him. What a snuggler she is, he thought with a grin. With an amused shake of his head, he padded naked out to his kitchen to find something to eat. His stomach was letting him know in no uncertain terms that it was not happy with him for not having eaten anything since the night before.

His choice of food was abysmal. Three bags of microwave popcorn, a half full bottle of imitation bacon bits, four cans of mystery vegetable, a two month old box of corn flakes and eight of those little packages of sweet and sour sauce from a fast food restaurant shared space in his cabinets with his collection of chipped cups and plates. The 'fridge held a Styrofoam take home container full of fried rice and sesame chicken from the Chinese restaurant down the street, one semi-wilted head of lettuce and three very wilted carrots, a gallon of milk three days past it's expiration date. With a groan he reached for the door to the freezer and peaked in. Oh, man! He slammed the door shut just as he heard Miranda walk into the kitchen. He gave her a tight smile that she didn't seem to notice as she peaked around his shoulder in to the still open refrigerator. "Oh, brother! I think you need a HazMat Team in here to clean that out," she said with a giggle. When he didn't laugh along with her, she looked up and noticed his hand was pressed firmly against the door to the freezer. "Okay, whatcha got in there that you're trying to hide from me?" She batted at his hand and tussled with him for a minute before pulling him away and opening the freezer.

And started to giggle.

"What? You afraid you're going to hurt my feelings because you have a box of fish sticks in your freezer?" Hunter turned bright red. Yes, that's exactly what he'd thought. He watched as she tossed the box, which appeared to be the only edible food in the apartment on to the counter, and then slipped her arms around his neck. "Hunter, I'm not actually a fish. You don't have to worry that one of my cousins might be in that box." She giggled again as he went from bright red to a delightful shade of green. Gripping his shoulders, she gave him a shake. "Snap out of it, man!" she said cheekily. "I'm not going to bore you with all the anatomical and genetic details. Just trust me when I say your love of the catch of the day is safe."

"I don't think I'm particularly hungry anymore," he muttered, embarrassed by his reaction to the fish sticks. A sudden loud gurgle from the vicinity of his stomach belied that statement though.

"Liar." He watched as Miranda dug through his cabinets until she found a cookie sheet and dumped the half full box of fish sticks onto it. As soon as she had stuck the pan into the oven, she turned and sauntered over to him. He all but jumped out of his skin when she reached out and grabbed him by the crotch. "I'm not finished with you yet, Hunter. We gotta get some fuel into you so we can pick up where we left off." Before he could respond to her sudden grope, she gave him a swat on the butt. "Go hop in the shower and clean up."

Blankly, he did as he was told.

* * *

Standing naked under the hot, stinging spray of the shower helped Hunter feel a bit more level. Miranda had blown all his circuits from the moment he first lay eyes on her. There was something about her--something more than just the fact that she wasn't exactly your everyday, average drop-dead-gorgeous woman. He felt connected to her somehow.

A smile twitched his lips as he closed his eyes and relaxed. Wouldn't his dad just had a canary if he came home with a mermaid as well as a degree? Woah! he thought, eyes snapping open. where did that thought come from? Was he actually considering taking this woman, that he'd known for less than twenty four hours, back home? In a brilliant flash, he knew the answer to that one: Yes. That's exactly what he would do. He carefully examined his feelings for this woman, and came to the conclusion that if what he was feeling wasn't love, it would be that in a very short time. He'd never, until this very moment believed in that "at first sight" crap. But it had happened. At first sight, the moment he'd seen her sitting on that rock, staring out at the sea, he'd begun to fall.

He was rolling the idea around in his mind when he heard the bathroom door click open. He felt himself harden as Miranda pulled the glass door to the shower enclosure open and stepped inside. God, she was gorgeous. She reminded him of sunshine, all bright and golden. But right now she had a serious look on her face. 

"What?" Hunter asked. "What is it?"

"I'm going to have to leave soon."

He was aghast. "Why?"

"My time is almost up. I have to return to my people."

He leaned back against the wall of the shower. "When do you have to go?"

"This evening. I'm sorry Hunter."

Suddenly furious, he reached out and gripped her by the shoulders. "Damnit, Miranda. I don't want you to go. I want you to stay here, with me."

"Oh, Hunter!" To hide her suddenly tear-filled eyes, she threw herself into his arms. "I want to stay with you, too. But I can't. I have responsibilities that I can't shirk for personal enjoyment. My people are depending on me."

"I don't understand. What kind of responsibilities? You're just one person. Why are they depending on you?"

"I'll tell you later. But first..." she let her hands run down his chest and belly, until her hands were filled with his tumescence. She stroked him once, twice, bringing him to full hardness. He watched, filled with hazy pleasure, as she sank to her knees before him. "Let me taste you, Hunter."

"Yesss..." he hissed as he felt her lips close over him, taking him into her soft, hot mouth. Pleasure blasted through his body as her tongue caressed the underside of his shaft, stroking back and forth. Oh, it was Heaven. He couldn't stop his hips from undulating, just a bit, to increase the friction. Miranda understood what he wanted, and began to press harder, suck harder. The pressure became too much. He could feel it pounding in his head, in his heart, in his loins. He thread his fingers through her long golden hair and attempted to pull her away from him. "Oh, baby, stop. I'm going to come...I want us together..."

The minute her mouth released his member, she was hauled to her feet, and then hoisted her into his arms. She gasped as he pressed her back against the cool tiles of the shower enclosure and pressed himself against her. She spread her thighs and heard him groan as he settled into position. "Hang on," he groaned, and then brought her down hard on him. She arched her back in pleasured surprise, writhing eagerly as he cradled her buttocks in his hands and began to raise and lower her. He was so big, so hard, she couldn't believe she was able to take him. And he had been whipped into a frenzy that made him less than gentle, in a manner that thrilled her to her core. She whimpered as he rotated his hips, and he grinned wolfishly at her. "More!" he growled. "Give me more!"

She wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his throat, her legs wrapped tightly around his hips, allowing his thrusts to go even deeper. It became too much for her, and with a snarl of her own, she turned her face and bit down, hard, on his shoulder as she reached climax. In response, she felt him force himself as deeply as he could good and shudder, over and over. His spasms were accompanied by the hot sensation of his seed filling her belly.

He leaned weakly against her, as drained of energy as he'd ever been in his life. She hung limply in his arms, as replete as he. * * *

"Walk me to the water, Hunter." The sun was once again setting over the ocean. It had been one day, a mere twenty four hours, since this woman had walked into his life. And despite everything he'd said throughout the day, it hadn't changed her determination to leave. So he'd taken her hand in his and walked with her down to the beach. They'd stopped at the edge of the sand, and Hunter had turned to walk away when Miranda reached out and lay a hand on his shoulder. "I want to explain some things before I go."

He thought about it for a moment, before acquiescing with a nod. She smiled slightly and slipped her small hand into his as they began to stroll slowly across the deserted beach to the water's edge. "My people are dying, Hunter."

"What?"

"We're a dying race. We haven't had a male child born capable of siring children of his own in twenty years. We don't know why this is happening. Our doctors are totally stumped. So, it has become the responsibility of our female population to, each one of us, produce at least one child. We're trying to find a genetic combination that will produce a fertile male child. So far, we've had no luck." With a sigh, Miranda stared downward, poking at a small shell buried in the sand with her toe. "It's my time to go back, to do what I have to do."

Hunter was aghast at the idea. "No! Miranda, stay here with me!"

"I can't! What if I'm the one who could save my race?"

"And what if you're not? What are the odds? You came here, to dry land, for a reason. You don't really want to do this!"

She was almost hysterical by now. "No, I don't, Hunter! The idea of being a brood mare for my race makes my skin crawl! Carrying the child of a man I don't know, don't care about, with a fifty-fifty chance of the child being male and only a slim-to-none chance of the baby being fertile? But I have to try! I love my people too much not to." She took a deep breath to calm herself. "I came here, to dry land, chasing a dream--a story told to little children. I knew before I came that it would be like trying to find a single grain of sand on this entire beach when I started."

He latched onto this as a way to keep her here longer. "What story?" he asked, reaching for calm the way she had.

"There's a legend. It's said that many centuries ago one of the clans decided to dedicate themselves to dry-land living. They left the sea and were never heard from again. Whether they died off, or were killed by humans. Whether they even existed in the first place...no one knows. I was hoping..." she trailed off with a shrug.

"You were hoping to find a solution without having to sacrifice yourself." Hunter murmured. He cupped her chin and forced her to look at him. "That was a brave thing to do."

"It was foolish. The Lost Ones are just a story, a fairy tale told to children." She faced the sea. "I have to go." Tears streaming down her face, she waded out until the water was up to her hips.

"Miranda, wait!" She turned to him, a question in his eyes, as he waded out to join her. "What about me?" he asked desperately. "Could I father a child on you and have it born fertile?"

"Oh, Hunter! Our two species are not biologically compatible. We can't have children together. I wish we could. I'd be honored to carry your baby." With that, she flung herself into his arms. He held her tight as the sun disappeared beneath the horizon. "I..."

"I know, baby." He tipped her face to his and kissed her gently. "It's time for you to return home. Remember me."

"Until the day I die, my love," she murmured, and then turned and disappeared beneath the waves. He watched for a long while, until far out in the distance he saw the flip of a golden tail fin, and she was gone.

To Be Continued...



The Lost Ones Ch. 4



::You're pregnant.::

Miranda, stretched out on a table in the medical clinic, jumped at the doctor's voice in her head, for a split second not registering what it was the woman was telling her. After several months living on dry land among humans, the Aquians' telepathic form of communication still startled her on occasion, especially when she was deep in thought on something else. Then the actually words the woman had spoken sunk in, and she gaped. ::What?:: She stared at the doctor as if she'd grown a second tail fin.

She'd come in to the doctor's office for the standard pre-pregnancy checkup early, since she'd been feeling a little off for a week now. She had placed the blame for her queasiness on nerves and upset; she was a week away from her scheduled impregnation, but all she'd been able to think about was Hunter. As she'd told him, she was resigned to her duty, but that didn't stop her from feeling a great deal of trepidation. ::You heard me perfectly clear the first time.::

::But that's not possible, Doctor!::

The older woman crossed her arms over her chest. ::Really? I would swear that I'm the only one in this room with medical training, Miranda, dear. If I say you're pregnant, you're pregnant.:: The doctor picked up Miranda's chart. ::Now, this is quite a surprising development, but hopefully not a bad one. I will need information on the baby's father.::

::But you don't understand!:: Miranda all but wailed. When the doctor quirked an eyebrow at her, she felt herself blush. ::I...that is...the only man I've been with is Hunter!::

The doctor jotted the name down on the chart. ::I'm not familiar with that name. Which clan does this Hunter belong to?::

Miranda shook her head. ::He doesn't! That's why I say it's impossible!:: She had the doctor's attention now. ::Hunter is a human!::

::That's not possible.:: The doctor looked thunderstruck. When infertility in the male population was discovered, the first thing that the doctors considered was the possibility of mating with human males in hopes of producing fertile offspring. Several years worth of experimentation, both in medical labs and under more...traditional situations, had failed to produce even a single child. It was determined that Humans and Aquians were just not genetically compatible.

The doctor stared at her for a long moment. ::You can go ahead and get dressed now, Miranda.:: The doctor said finally, with a weird look on her face. Feeling suddenly uneasy, Miranda did as she'd been told.

The next couple days did nothing to relieve Miranda's unease. Word of her unexpected pregnancy had somehow gotten out, and everyone in her clan community, as well as several from outside her clan, felt the need to stop her to talk; some offered hopeful congratulations. Others wanted to know what it was like to "do it" with a human. Miranda herself was totally baffled by what was happening. By the time she received a summons to appear before her clan leaders and a board of medical personnel to discuss the "situation," as they called it, she was about at wits end.

Sitting in a cold room, surrounded by authority figures, and fighting off nasty bouts of queasiness only made the situation worse. Contemplating the feasibility of escaping back to Hunter and the dry land world, Miranda didn't realize that she'd been spoken to until she felt a hand on her arm. She jerked her attention back to the here-and-now. ::Excuse me?:: she asked faintly.

::We were saying, Miranda,:: the stern voice of her clan leader, Rochelle, echoed in her mind, ::that we have decided that you must go back above to dry land, back to this Hunter of yours, and find a way to bring him down to us.::

Miranda was shocked. Aquian culture was almost fanatical in it's separatist beliefs. Men and women going above to dry land was discourage, as was most contact with humans. And it was totally against the rules to bring one below. Why was this major taboo being broken? ::Why?:: she asked.

::We need to examine this Human,:: one of the doctors Miranda didn't recognize explained. ::We need to find out what it is about him that has enabled him to father this child of yours. Maybe there are other Humans like him.:: A peculiar gleam came into the woman's eyes. ::If not, we could use him to father children on other women. He could be the savior of our entire race...:: Miranda's head started to buzz. Use him, they were saying, like he was some sort of laboratory animal. A surge of jealousy washed through him as she thought of him lying with other Aquian women, loving them, giving them his seed, his children.

::What if he doesn't want to do this?:: Miranda asked.

The doctor looked at her as if she were simple. ::He doesn't have a choice, my dear. Our continuing existence depends upon the how and why of this baby's conception. If this human is capable of fathering your child, he could sire others.::

::I don't want to use him like that,:: Miranda protested again. ::He deserves better than to be turned into a breeding stud by us.::

::He's a human, child.:: Rochelle looked at her from beneath brows lowered in agitation. Miranda knew that some Aquians believed that humans were a lesser species, but she'd never been confronted by someone who actually thought that way. A sudden thought came to her.

::What if he's not?::

Conversation stopped. ::What do you mean, Miranda?::

::What if he's not human? What if he's Aquian, like us? I went above looking for the Lost Ones...::

::That's a fanciful child's story, Miranda, a myth.:: Rochelle was looking more and more vexed. ::There are no Lost Ones. No clan of Aquians ever decided to live on dry land. Now, you will do as your told, and fetch this human, bring him to us.::

Feeling a quivering in her stomach that had nothing to do with her pregnancy, Miranda stood and left the room. They were going to do it. They were going to lock her beautiful Hunter up in a cage and experiment on him. They were going to force him, for she had no doubt that it would be forced, to father children on other women.

Over her dead body.

Erecting careful barriers in her mind to prevent any inkling of what she had planned from becoming known to the telepathic Aquians she passed, Miranda broke into a run. She could only hope that Hunter would believe her when she told him of the danger he was in.

* * *

Hunter never would have believed he could miss someone he'd known only for a couple short days three months earlier so much. In those few hours they'd spent in each others arms, Miranda had become a part of him in a way he couldn't explain. So when he opened the door to his apartment in the pre-dawn hours of what had probably been another long lonely day in the making and found her standing on his doorstep, pale and dripping sea water on the brown hallway carpeting, he'd been shocked to silence. "Hunter..." she'd murmured, reaching a trembling hand out to him. He'd gripped her cold, shaking fingers in his a moment before her lovely eyes rolled back into her head and she'd pitched forward into his arms.

Now he sat in an armchair pulled up along side his bed, watching the day grow older as Miranda slept in his bed. She was restless, tossing and turning in her sleep, murmuring softly in a language he couldn't understand. What the hell had happened to her in the last three months?

It was nearly four o'clock in the afternoon when she awoke. One moment she'd been thrashing from side to side, clutching the light blanket he'd thrown over her in a death grip, and the next she was still, eyes open, staring up at the ceiling with a confused look on her face. Then she'd turned her head to look a him, and the confusion vanished, replaced by a mix of joy and fear that he didn't understand. "I thought I'd dreamed finding you..." she whispered, reaching out to clutch his hand.

"I'm here, Miranda. You're not dreaming anymore."

In a flash she lunged across the bed and into his arms. "Thank God! Thank God!" she repeated over and over as he held her in his arms. They stay like that for a long while, just holding one another, absorbing each other's presence.

Finally, Hunter eased her away from him and brushed a tangled lock of golden hair off her forehead. "What happened to you, Miranda?" he asked.

Just like that the joy that had lit her eyes was snuffed beneath a wave of fear. "We have to leave, now, Hunter!" she cried, clambering out of the bed and trying to pull him across the room toward the door. "I'm sure I was followed. They somehow found out what I was planning."

Hunter planted his feet and pulled Miranda's mad rush to a halt. "Woah! I think you'd better explain to me exactly what's going on."

"We don't have time, Hunter! I'll explain on the way, but he have to go now!"

Something of her desperation must have finally reached him through his confusion. Giving her a long look, he came to a quick decision. "Where are we going?"

"Someplace safe. You must know of some place we can go where no one will find us."

He thought for a long moment, then nodded. "I can't wait to hear the explanation for this one. Give me a second to throw some clothes in a bag, and we'll head out." He left her standing beside the door, nervously shifting from foot to foot. She really looked a wreck. She'd dried out while she slept. Crystallized sea salt dusted her skin, hair and clothing. Those clothes hung on a body that had lost a great deal of weight in the last three months. Worry gnawed at him as he stuffed a couple changes of clothes of his own, and an extra shirt for Miranda into a bag. In less than five minutes he was ready, and in less than ten from the moment she'd awakened in his bed, they were in his car and driving down a winding back road into the country.

Two hours later they were pulled over in a side of the road rest area, sharing a roast beef sub and bag of chips he'd picked up at the last gas station they'd visited. Miranda picked at her half of the sub, her eyes darting every few moments to the rearview mirrors. Suddenly not particularly hungry himself, Hunter rewrapped the deli paper around the sandwich and stuffed it and the bag of chips back in the brown paper sack. Finally, he turned to Miranda. "Okay, babe. What's going on?"

Gnawing on her lower lip, Miranda gazed out the passenger side window at the setting sun for a long moment. Finally, she took a deep breath and turned to Hunter. "I'm pregnant."

Hunter gritted his teeth at the idea of her carrying another man's child. "That's good, I guess," he said, trying not to snarl. Miranda's surprised, hurt look confused him. "Isn't that what you went home to do? Get pregnant...perpetuate your species and all that shit?" He was definitely sounding surly.

A look of comprehension came over Miranda's face. She reached out and took his hand. "No, Hunter, you don't understand. I never went through with the impregnation. I was already pregnant when I got home."

He gaped at her, stunned. "Already...are you saying..? Mine?" She nodded, and he gulped as what she was saying came home. "Wait a minute! You said you and I couldn't have children together. We aren't the same species."

"I know. It shouldn't have been possible, but it happened. When the leader of my clan and the doctors found out you were human, they demanded that I come up and get you, bring you down so you can be tested to find out how this was possible."

"But, Miranda, I'd be willing to let them test me. I'd love to help your people."

Tears filled her eyes. "No, Hunter! You still don't understand! If you go down there, they'll never let you go! Some of my people, the leader of my clan included, don't consider humans to be a species equal to ours. You're just a human to them. You'd have no rights at all. You've already proven that you can father children," her hand drifted down to cover her belly, where their child grew, "and that's what they'll make you do! Over and over again. You'll not have any choice. I couldn't let that happen to you." As her tears spilled over, she flung herself into his arms.

Hunter held her close, suddenly understanding her fear. The idea of being locked up in some sort of stable, used as a stud to father a new generation of mermaids held no appeal to him. He'd never been particularly promiscuous. Before Miranda there had been maybe a half dozen women in his thirty three years of life. He had no desire to know any further members of Miranda's species on that level. He pulled back slightly and looked her in the eyes. "Thank you, Miranda."

She shook her head, denying his gratitude. "I brought this down on you."

"No, you didn't. I don't blame you." He looked around the darkening parking area and the grassy shoulder that sloped gently down to the edge of a fast moving stream. "Come on, let's walk a bit before we hit the road again."

"Do you think it's safe?"

"Yea. I doubt anyone knows where we are right now. If we'd been followed, someone would have grabbed us by now. Come on."

Hunter climbed out of his car and walked around to help Miranda out. Her legs were stiff from hours of sitting and stress. Hunter wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders and held her close to his side as they slowly crossed the lush green grass toward the water. They strolled along the edge of the stream for a bit. Miranda watched as a mosquito dropped onto the surface of the water, and found herself smiling slightly as a large rainbow trout darted out of it's hiding place and gulped down the unsuspecting bug.

Stepping away from Hunter, she stretched her arms over her head, trying to work out hours of kinks. Reassured that they were, in fact, alone, Miranda felt the unrelenting panic begin to recede. In it's place came the realization that she was filthy. When Hunter rested his hands on her shoulders, she gave him a wan smile. "I'm a total mess."

He grinned. "You do look like you've been running on empty for a while."

"Well, I'm going to clean myself up a bit." With that, she shed her salt encrusted clothing and, before he could blink, slipped into the cool stream. He sat down and watched as she swam a bit, and then sat down in the shallow water along the bank and scrubbed at her long golden hair, working the salt knotted strands loose. With a soft sigh she leaned back and let the fresh water flow over her.

Was she intentionally being provocative? Hunter didn't think so, but his body did. As she reclined in the twilight darkened water, head thrown back, breasts thrusting upward, he felt himself getting hard. God, she was a beautiful woman. She didn't look pregnant to him--she'd lost a good deal of weight, giving her a fragile look that he found as appealing as he had the lush curves of a few months earlier. Face it, he told himself. You'd find her attractive no matter how she looked.

How she looked as she stepped out of the water was relaxed, refreshed, and so delicious he could just gobble her up. He leaned forward as she approached, attempting to hid the rampant erection bulging the front of his jeans. But something of his frustration must have shown on his face, because Miranda gave him a sweet smile and pulled his hands away from himself. Without speaking a word, she knelt before him, and leaned forward to press her lips to his. Fire flashed through Hunter as she pressed her cool, damp body to his. "Oh, baby," he groaned, "are you sure?"

"Yes."

He cupped her cheeks in his hands. "I've dreamed of this for three long months," he admitted.

"Me too, Hunter. I've missed you so much!"

He gathered her close, pulled her across his lap, just holding her against his heart for a long while. It felt so good to have her back in his arms again. She cuddled close, as if trying to climb inside his skin. 

He smiled as he felt her lips begin to trail over the side of his neck. This was going to be so incredibly sweet. Gently, he rolled her down to the soft green grass. He leaned over her and pressed his lips to her, falling eagerly into the softness of her mouth. God, yes, he thought as she responded with all the eagerness he remembered of her. He arched against her hands as she ran her cool fingers up under his shirt, caressing his back and shoulders. With a grin he broke the kiss and sat up to shuck off his own clothing. Miranda lay in the grass and stretched her arms up over her head as she watched him strip. He could see the light of arousal in her eyes as she ran her eyes over his revealed nakedness, and his erection grew harder than he'd ever felt it. This was going to be over really quick.

This didn't seem to bother Miranda at all. As he leaned back down over her, she squirmed around until he was resting between her thighs, his throbbing erection nestled in her golden curls. "Now, Hunter. Now!" she breathed, and he silently agreed. As gently as he could manage, mindful of her invisible pregnancy, he slipped inside her hot body, and all he could think was I've come home.

But Miranda obviously didn't want gentle. Before he could even catch his breath, she was writhing under him, thrusting her hips up against his, moaning as she sunk her fingernails into his buttocks. "Tell me if I hurt you," he groaned as he picked up on her rhythm, thrusting heavily into the haven of her body.

Miranda thrashed her head back and forth on the grass, holding his as tightly as she could, as ecstasy began to creep up on her. Hunter leaned down and locked his lips to her, taking her eager cries into his mouth as his pounding drove her to climax. A moment later he stiffened in her arms, grinding against her as hard as he could as his seed rushed in great waves into her.

They lay in the grass, basking in the bliss of post-orgasmic lethargy, watching the stars appear in the night sky. How long they lay there, neither could say, but as the moon began to creep up over the horizon, Hunter knew that it was time to leave. He pulled his jeans back on and walked over to the car to pull the extra shirt he'd brought for Miranda from his bag as she took her own clothing down to the stream to wash the salt from them. She was wringing them out as Hunter crouched beside her. "I should have done this while I was swimming. They'd be dry by now," she said with a smile.

"I had other things besides laundry duty on my mind," Hunter said, running a hand over her exposed buttocks. With a laugh, Miranda brushed his hand away and, handing him her wet cloths, and slipping into his shirt.

They sat beside the stream for a moment, watching the moon. Finally, she sighed and turned to look at him. "Where are we going to go, Hunter?" she asked softly.

"There's only one place I can think of where we'll be totally safe." He took her hand and pulled her to her feet. "I'm taking you home."

To Be Continued...



The Lost Ones Ch. 5



The room was filled with a rosy glow as the sun crept up over the sea. Too caught up in each other, in the rhythmic thrust and retreat of passionate lovemaking, it might as well have been pitch black for all the attention Hunter and Miranda paid the glorious dawn. As passion reached it's climax, a breeze blew through the open French doors, bringing the scent of the sea and the fragrant Hibiscus flowers blossoming profusely on bushes below Hunter's second floor balcony.

They had arrived at Hunter's beautiful tropical island home just after midnight. Everyone in the household had been sleeping, and so they had slipped up the staircase and into Hunter's old bedroom, barely taking time to shuck their travel-wrinkled clothes before collapsing into bed in complete exhaustion.

Roused by the stirring of warm air, Miranda slipped from under Hunter's sated body and walked out onto the balcony, unmindful of her nudity. Hunter watched as she lifted her face to the breeze, allowing it to lift her hair and dry her perspiration dewed skin. She looked glorious there, haloed by the rising sun, her soft skin glimmering as if gilded. There were times when Hunter couldn't believe how much he loved this woman. Rising himself, he joined her on the wrought iron balcony, wrapping his arms around her from behind and hugging her close to his chest. "I love you, Miranda," he murmured against her temple. 

Miranda smiled, and turned to face him. "Are we safe here, Hunter? I mean, really safe?"

"More than we'd be on the mainland. This is a small island--everybody knows everybody, so any strangers would cause a stir. Your people won't be able to sneak up on us." He looked out over the ocean. "As long as we stay out of the water, that is."

A loud, slightly-out-of-tune whistle alerted them to the fact that they were no longer alone. They slipped back into the shadows of the bedroom as an old man pushed a wheelbarrow full of gardening tools around the corner of the house and across the lawn toward the well tended flower gardens. "You'd better throw on some clothing, darling," Hunter said as he pulled on a pair of well worn denim cutoffs. "If Henry is out and about, it won't be long before his wife, Maria, knocks on the door to see who's bunking down in my bed."

"But I don't have anything to wear, Hunter!" Miranda gasped, realizing that she was literally without a stitch of clothing other than the stuff she'd been wearing while they traveled. Her skin crawled at the thought of putting those dirty garments back on.

Hunter pulled a white dress shirt out of his closet and tossed it to her. "We'll get you some more clothing this afternoon," he assured her as she stepped into the bathroom to wash up and dress. She had just pulled the shirt on and was buttoning it up when there was a loud, female squeal from the outer room. "Hunter! Welcome home, baby!" the woman cried.

Curious, Miranda cracked the bathroom door and peaked out. Hunter stood in the center of the bedroom, wrapped in the arms of a tiny woman who looked like an apple with legs. The woman was probably less than five feet tall, and at least as wide as she was tall. Dressed in a bright red dress and wearing a green hat over her snow-white hair, she definitely looked like an apple. "When did you get in?" she was asking now. "How long are you planning on staying?" The woman cupped Hunter's face in her hands. "Oh, it's so good to have you home, baby. I've missed you--we've all missed you..." her voice trailed off as she spotted something lying on the floor beside the bed. "What's this?" She bent over and picked it up, and it was then that Miranda realized that it was her rather skanky looking dress. "Do you have someone with you, Hunter?" There was no censure in the woman's voice, just curiosity.

Just then Hunter saw Miranda peaking out of the bathroom, and motioned her out. Running a self-conscious hand over her tangled hair, Miranda stepped forward and took Hunter's outstretched hand. "Maria, this is Miranda. Miranda, Maria has been my father's housekeeper since before I was born."

The old woman stepped forward. "It's a pleasure to meet you, child," she said and took Miranda's hands in hers. At the contact there was a moment of...something. Both Maria and Miranda started. Maria studied Miranda for a long moment, and Miranda was starting to feel uncomfortable under her intense scrutiny when Maria turned back to Hunter. "You'll be wanting some breakfast, I'd wager. And someone needs to tell your father that you're home." Maria nodded and, giving Miranda a cautious smile, slipped out of the room.

"I don't think she likes me," Miranda said, crossing her arms over herself. Her hand still tingled from the flash of whatever it was that had passed between herself and Maria.

"Don't be silly, Love. Maria likes everyone. She's just surprised. I've never brought a woman home with me before." He took her in his arms and nuzzled the side of her neck. "And not just any woman," he murmured, "but the most special, most wonderful woman in the world. The one carrying my child. The one I love!" Suddenly, with a laugh, Hunter picked her up and swung her around and around, until they were both dizzy and laughing like loons.

* * *

Breakfast was served in a craftily designed room combining the of elegance of a formal dining room with the comfort and relaxed atmosphere of a screen porch. It was a wing extending off the back of the house toward a cliff overlooking the ocean. Three sides were massive windows, open now to the fresh breeze. The table, easily large enough to hold a dozen or more people, was gleaming wood and glass.

Sitting at one end of the table, a plate of toast and scrambled eggs growing cold before him, cup of coffee in one hand, morning newspaper in the other, was a handsome older man. Miranda, holding Hunter's arm in a death grip as he escorted her into the room, suddenly knew what Hunter was going to look like in thirty years. The older man, undoubtedly Hunter's father, was the spitting image of his son, with the exception of wings of silver at his temples, and a few character wrinkles. He glanced up as they entered, and with a smile, he folded his paper and set the coffee aside. He stood as they approached.

"Welcome home, Son," he said.

"Thanks, Dad," Hunter replied with a smile. "It's good to be here." When his father turned to face Miranda, Hunter performed introductions. "Dad, this is Miranda. Miranda, my father, Robert."

Robert regarded the woman on his son's arm seriously. Maria had been troubled when she had come to tell him that his son was home, and with a strange woman. It took a lot to concern Maria, but she was rarely ever wrong. There was definitely something different about this young woman.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miranda. Are you hungry?"

"Yes, sir," she replied meekly. It was obvious she was intimidated by him. Good, he thought. Until he found out who she was and what she wanted with his son, the more wary she was of him, the better. He saw Hunter squeeze the girl's hand reassuringly. Obviously, Hunter was quite smitten.

"Then fill a plate and sit down." He gestured toward the interior wall, where a long sideboard held just about anything a person could want to eat for breakfast. 

Miranda felt her mouth quirk at the sight of all that prepared food. She leaned closer to Hunter to whisper in his ear. "No wonder your cupboards and refrigerator were so bare. Did you ever cook for yourself before you left here?"

"Not if I could help it. Compared to Maria's cooking, mine is barely edible."

"I thought Maria was the housekeeper, not the cook."

Hunter grinned. "Maria does everything. I have yet to figure out how she has enough hours in the day, but this place is always clean as a whistle, the food is hot and delicious and my family is spoiled rotten. It was a great way to grow up."

Breakfast was a relatively pleasant affair. Hunter and Robert spent most of the time catching up on their lives. Hunter had been gone from the island for three years pursuing his education, and there was a lot of catching up to do. Miranda sat quietly, nibbling at a selection of fresh fruit and sipping her glass of fresh squeezed orange juice--Hunter had pushed it on her, muttering something about folic acid--and trying not to attract attention to herself. There was something about the way that Robert kept looking at her, as if he were suspicious of her in some way. It gave her the creeps.

Just as breakfast was finishing up, somewhere in the house a phone rang. No one at the table made a move to answer, but the ringing swiftly stopped. In a moment Maria appeared at the door. "Excuse me," she said politely. "There is a phone call for Hunter in the study." Maria beamed at Hunter. "Word of your return has spread across the island. All your old friends are eager to talk to you."

Hunter's eye lit at the thought of talking to some of the friends he'd left behind when he'd gone off to school. "I'll be right back," he murmured. He didn't see the look of panic in Miranda's eyes as he stood and walked through the doors.

Alone with Robert, Miranda stared at her half eaten breakfast. Suddenly what little appetite she'd had was gone. She didn't look up until she felt a hand on her arm. To her surprise, Robert had moved to sit beside her. The serious expression on his face told her that this wasn't going to be the pleasantries of a man getting to know his possible future daughter. "What are you doing here, Miranda? What is it that you want with my son?"

"I...I don't understand..." she said nervously.

"Oh, I think you do." He gave her a hard look. "I know who and what you are, Miranda. I don't know what games you're playing, but I won't have my son being pulled back into that mess that we managed to escape."

"You know what I am?"

"Of course I do. I'm not a fool, child. While our clan may have left our aquatic life behind, we are still very much Aquians. We can sense each other." Talk to each other, he added in the Aquian's nonverbal manner.

"The Lost Ones," she breathed, momentarily forgetting to be intimidated by Robert. "I knew it wasn't just a story!"

"Not by a long shot."

"I have so many questions! My people...our people need your help!"

He gave her a wry look. "So, it has finally come to pass, has it?" Miranda blinked, surprised by the rancor in his voice. "We warned them. Five hundred year ago we warned the clans that our people were going to become sterile sometime in the next millennium. We weren't believed. We told them that something in the sea was causing this and only by leaving behind the underwater world and coming above would we be able to avoid that fate. We were called heretics. And now they have the gall to ask us for help?"

"No!" Miranda gasped. "It's not that way at all. My people don't even believe you exist. They thing the Lost Ones are just a legend. I'm the one who wanted to find you, to ask you to help us."

"I don't see why we should." They both looked up as Hunter walked back into the room with a big grin on his face. "He doesn't know. I don't want you saying anything to him."

"He's going to find out eventually," Miranda murmured.

"I'll tell him in my own time."

This time it was Miranda who gave Robert a hard look. "Make it fast. Time isn't something we have a lot of."

"Sorry about that!" Hunter laughed as he plopped down beside them at the table and took a large quaff of his now cold coffee. "Toby could talk to ear of a statue. I hope you two kept each other entertained."

"Of course, son. Miranda is a charming young lady. I hope I have the opportunity to talk to her at length some time before you two leave." It was a subtly disguised hint, Miranda knew. They would talk again.

* * *

The next couple of days passed almost idyllically. Miranda spent most of her time with Hunter. She almost fanatically avoided being along with Robert. She knew, when the time for that conversation came, it was going to be rough. From his earlier reaction, she doubted he was going to be as overjoyed at her pregnancy as Hunter was.

The moment of truth came late one evening. Henry has asked Hunter to give him a hand out in the gardens with something or other. Miranda strongly suspected that whatever it was had been fabricated by Robert so he could get her alone to finish their talk.

"You've done a good job of avoiding me these last couple days, Miranda. Makes me think you have something to hide."

Determined to stand up for herself, Miranda gave him a hard look. "I'm hiding nothing that is mine to tell."

"You never did tell me what it was you want with my son, or why the two of you are hiding out here."

"I met your son, quite by accident, almost four months ago. We began a...relationship...almost immediately. We had one beautiful day together. And then I went home. It's a long, complicated story, but our people..."

"Your people, Miranda. We don't claim them."

"Okay, my people, are trying to repopulate. All women of childbearing age are impregnated, in hopes that a fertile male child will be produced. I returned home for my impregnation. Only, surprise, surprise, it was too late. I was already pregnant." She paused, giving that information a moment to sink in. Before he could say anything, she continued. "When I explained that my baby's father was a Human, or so I thought, my clan leader demanded that I bring this Human below so he could be tested to see how it was possible that he'd fathered the child. I decided not to do so. I wasn't going to turn Hunter over to them to be used like some sort of lab animal. I came above, managed to shake my pursuers, and went to Hunter. He brought me here."

Robert looked ready to blow a gasket. "You dragged my son into this mess you've gotten yourself into? How dare you!"

"How dare I? I didn't even know Hunter was Aquian until you told me! I was trying to protect him, and he, me, and both of us, our child. This sure as hell isn't something either of us planned." She lowered her voice. "Maybe, if you'd told him about his heritage from the beginning, instead of letting him believe he was Human, we wouldn't be in this situation now!"

"If he hadn't run off to the mainland like a child, he would have been told by now!"

"What the hell is going on here?" Miranda and Robert turned to find Hunter, his hands and knees stained with soil and grass, standing in the doorway. "Dad? What does she mean, tell me about my heritage?" Robert looked at a total loss for words, so Hunter turned to Miranda. 

"This is something for your father to tell you, Hunter," she murmured. A cop out, she knew, but she didn't know what to say to him right now that would make sense. And it really wasn't her place to tell him about being Aquian. "Excuse me."

Hunter watched Miranda slip through a side door and disappear into the darkened gardens. As soon as she was out of sight, he turned to his father. "What did she mean about you letting me believe I am Human?"

Robert decided to say it quick. "You, we, are like her, Son. We're Aquians."

"What are you talking about? She told me about some of the things she can do, showed me others. I can't do any of those things."

"You could with training. Ordinarily, we would have told you, explained things to you and begun teaching, when you turned thirty, but you were away from the island at that time."

Hunter had a slightly glazed look on his face. He sunk into a chair and gazed blindly out a window at the moon, which was just rising out of the sea. "The Lost Ones..." he breathed, stunned. Then he looked up at his father. "We are the ones that Miranda spoke of."

"Yes. Our clan left the sea and our totally aquatic lives behind five hundred years ago, to avoid what's happening to the Aquians now."

Finally, Hunter stood. "I have a lot to think on." He looked around. "Where did Miranda go? I need to ask her some questions..." His voice trailed off as a scream split the stillness of the night. Hunter bolted out the door Miranda and exited earlier, Robert a step behind.

The gardens were deeply shadowed and mysterious, but not so dark that the men couldn't see what was going on in a darker shadowed corner near the head of the path that lead down to the beach. Three figures wrestled there; the smaller one, moonlight flashing off her gold hair, was obviously Miranda. The other two were unfamiliar to Hunter and his father. The two strangers quickly overwhelmed the struggling Miranda. One held her in a fierce bear hug while the other attempted to bind her wrists behind her. Miranda wasn't making it easy for them. One of the strangers yelped as Miranda sunk her teeth into the palm held over her mouth.

Hunter was about to launch himself into the fray when he heard a soft click from behind him. He glanced over his shoulder to see his father pull a small device the size of a car remote from his pocket. When he pushed the button on the top of it, the garden was suddenly flooded with light, and an alarm began to sound.

The three figures froze. "I'd recommend that you release Miranda immediately," Robert said in a booming voice. The two strangers, women themselves, didn't obey. The taller of the two gave the men a scathing look.

"Stay out of this. It has nothing to do with you. This woman is a fugitive, and we are here to take her into custody."

"No!" Miranda shrieked.

"That woman has asylum on this island. I don't know who you are, or where you come from," a lie that Robert told without batting an eye "but she's not going anywhere. Release her." The final command was punctuated by a group of well armed men stepping out of the bushes surrounding the garden and aiming their weapons at the three women. Robert gestured at the guns as the women attempted to pull Miranda in front of them as a hostage. "Tranquilizer guns, ladies. Harmless, but they'll drop you in about two seconds flat, and you'll be out for hours."

The women looked at each other, and then slowly raised their hands, releasing their prisoner. As soon as she was free, Miranda dashed across the lawn and into Hunter's arms. He held her close as he could to him, burying his face in her hair. The two of them didn't see Robert's guards lead the two Aquian women into the house. They just held on as if they'd never let go.

"They found us," Miranda murmured against Hunter's chest. "They were going to take me back, and wait for you to come outside, ambush you."

"It's okay, baby. Father will take care of them, I'm sure. He's our, how did you put it? Clan leader. I get the feeling that your clan is going to be thinking twice before trying a stunt like this again."

"They don't know you're Aquian. They think you're just a bunch of Humans."

"Well, shall we go inside and see what my father is telling them?" Miranda nodded, and arm in arm they walked inside. The two women were sitting at one end of the long table, flanked by guards. Robert sat at the other end. It was obvious that they had been waiting for Hunter and Miranda to arrive. As soon as they were seated, Robert turned to their uninvited guests.

"You said she is a criminal. What are the charges against her?" he asked.

"She's wanted for kidnapping," the taller woman, whom Miranda recognized as Adria, said. "It's a very serious charge."

When Miranda would have protested, Robert touched her hand to stay her words. "We agree it's a terrible charge. But she came here alone. Who is she accused of kidnapping?"

Adria gave Robert a superior look. "She is with child. That child is the property of our people, and she had no right to take it from us."

"I don't think so!" Hunter growled, drawing the women's attention to him. "That child is the property, as you so kindly put it, of it's parents, Miranda and myself. If you think we're going to just turn our baby over to you so you can do God only know what to it, you'd better think again!"




The Lost Ones Ch. 6



The day of their wedding dawned bright and clear, the crystal blue sky dotted by cottony puffs of clouds. Maria had worked like a fiend in her determination to make her precious Hunter's wedding day perfect. She had taken on the duties of Mother of the Bride with glee--dragging Miranda to the mainland to look for a perfect wedding dress. They'd browsed through bridal shop after bridal shop, but hadn't found anything appropriate for a young woman with the swell of four months of pregnancy rounding her belly, much less comfortable for an outdoor wedding in any of them. Several of the women who owned or ran the shops had volunteered to alter a dress to fit Miranda's expanding waistline, but she had declined, unable to bear the thought of spending the day in some bulky satin or taffeta creation.

After lunch they'd stopped in a small antique shop. The woman behind the counter had given Miranda a radiant smile when she'd noticed her pregnancy. They'd chatted as Maria had browsed, and when Miranda explained that she was getting married, but hadn't been able to find a beautiful, comfortable dress to wear, the woman's face had lit up. "Hold on a minute," she'd said, and disappeared into a back room.

A moment later she returned, carrying a large, time-yellowed box. She'd set the box on a chair and with a flourish had opened it and pulled out a gorgeous, cream colored dress. It had been a simple style; scoop neck, long sleeves of soft lace, empire waist, the three quarter length skirt a light layer of silk with more of the gorgeous lace covering it. The moment she'd taken it in her hands, Miranda had known this was the dress for her. The woman had shooed her into the back to try it on, and when Miranda had stepped back into the shop, the look on Maria's face had told her what she already knew--she'd found her wedding dress.

* * *

And now she stood at Hunter's side on the white sand beach beneath arbor covered with white roses and ivy, and interspersed with seashells. The sunny beach was crowded with Hunter's friends and family. The sea was alive with Miranda's Aquian clan. Hunter held her hand tightly in his own, loath to let her go, even for a moment. They gazed at each other with eyes filled with unconditional love. They barely even heard the words the minister said to them, had to be prompted once or twice to speak their vows.

And before they knew it, they were exchanging the beautiful, custom made wedding bands Robert had had crafted for them as a wedding gift. The gold bands were inlaid with ancient Aquian runic symbols made of coral and mother of pearl, designed to bestow love and prosperity upon the wearers.

The tide was just beginning to lap at Miranda's and Hunter's bare feet when the minister pronounced them man and wife. Laughter and cheers surrounded them as they stepped from beneath the arbor, and found themselves being showered with flower petals and tiny seashells. Miranda flung her arms around her new husband's neck, laughing with joy over the ingenious blending of symbols of her aquatic people and Hunter's land dwellers.

* * *

The celebration continued far into the night, long after the bride and groom had, amid laughter and good natured ribbing, retired to their bridal chamber. 

Miranda lay stretched out on her back, head thrown back, clutching desperately at the bed sheets as her husband--husband, God she loved that word!--did truly wicked things to her body with a long stemmed rose.

She gasped as the velvety blossom made laps around the aroused crests of her breasts. Hunter was barely touching her, the caress as light as the brush of a butterfly's wings, and Miranda's pleasure built steadily. Like a painter with a brush, Hunter drew the rose down, through the valley between her breasts, to run it over the swell of her belly. He laughed as she attempted to arch into the caress. Her fingers clenched the sheets tighter; he'd told her that she was not allowed to touch, only to feel. And feel she was.

Finally, it grew to be too much, and Miranda snatched the rose from Hunter's hand and, heaving the rose into the corner of the bedroom, bodily shoved him over onto his back. With a growl, she pounded on him, raining kisses over his face and neck. She refused to hold still long enough for him to deepen the kiss, and in very short order he was the one squirming as she wriggled her way down his body, planting those feather-light kisses over collarbones and sternum, around and around his own nipples and down over his abs. With her hands kneading his tight thigh muscles, and her chin perilously close to his aching erection, she looked up at him. Her eyes gleamed as her tongue darted out to moisten already ripe lips. And she gave him a teasing smile.

Just as she was about to attack, he reached down and grabbed her by the shoulders. "Oh, no you don't!" he muttered as he hauled her up and gently rolled her beneath him. A gentle caress proved she was as ready as she'd ever been for his possession, and, sealing her lips with a deep, passionate kiss, he settled between her thighs and slid home.

"Yes," she murmured as he began thrusting gently against her. "Oh, yes, Hunter! More!" She reached up and tangled her fingers in his dark hair, yanking his lips hard against hers. She kissed him with everything in her as he thrust harder and harder against her. They began to tremble together, and as one reached the peak of their pleasure. "I love you, Hunter!" Miranda gasped as she convulsed beneath him.

"And I, you," he murmured against her neck as passions lethargic aftermath settled over them both.

* * *

The doors to the balcony stood wide open to the fresh, warm night air. A brisk breeze ruffled the gauzy curtains, little brother to the massive storm churning the ocean far to the east of the beautiful tropical island, a storm causing heavy waves to crash and foam on the beach below. The hurricane could have been directly overhead for all the attention Hunter and Miranda were paying the weather.

A storm of a different sort was occurring at home. Miranda had been in hard labor for several hours. Hunter sat at her side, holding her hands and offering what comfort he could as his beloved struggled to birth their child.

An Aquian midwife stood off to the side, ready to offer assistance if needed. Her services had not yet been necessary. Hunter and Miranda had decided to follow the Aquian custom of birthing a child at home. Aquian births were usually surprisingly easy, seldom requiring any medical intervention.

Shortly after midnight, Miranda sensed a shift in the contractions she'd been suffering. She squeezed Hunters hand, and gave him a tight smile. "It' just about time, my love," she murmured. Hunter nodded, still not entirely sure about this method of birthing. He'd agreed to, had even been fascinated by, the idea of a home birth. But now that the time was nigh, he was discovering that he would have much preferred it if they'd been in a hospital surrounded by doctors and nurses, and drugs. Lots and lots of drugs. It practically killed him every time Miranda convulsed in contraction.

Gulping, and shooting the midwife a nervous look, he settled into what he'd come to think of as the catching position. Miranda's upraised legs pressed against his thighs as he reached out and took her hands, offering her support and resistance against the bearing down process. Miranda's grip on his fingers tightened bruisingly as she took a deep breath and began to push. As the contraction ebbed, she relaxed slightly. In less than a minute, she was gripping, gasping and pushing again. Again and again, for the longest twenty minutes of his life, this went on.

And suddenly, it was over. Hunter reached down and caught the tiny, wrinkled, dark hared body as it slipped from it's mother. The midwife appeared at his side with a blanket in hand and he turned the baby, and looked into the face of his daughter for the first time. "Oh my God," he breathed. "It's a girl!" He looked up into Miranda sweaty, exhausted, ecstatic face. "We have a little girl."

Relaxing against the pillows, Miranda put her arms out for her baby. Hunter wrapped the child as he'd been instructed, and handed her over to her mother. "Ahnika," she breathed, cuddling the baby to her breast. They'd decided, if the baby was a girl, to name her after the ancient Aquian goddess of new beginnings. And she was a new beginning. Her existence gave the Aquians hope for their future.

Many of the male residents of Hunter's island home had decided to offer whatever assistance they could to their undersea cousins. There weren't a vast number of unattached men, but there were enough to make a start at rebuilding the Aquian culture. Ground rules had been laid, and seemed to be being obeyed. There were four Aquian women currently in various stages of pregnancy by men from the island. Three pregnancies had been confirmed male. A major problem had presented itself when the fourth woman had wanted to abort the unwanted female she was carrying in order to try again. The idea had been firmly squelched by both the child's father, and by the leaders of the island. Unhappy, the woman had agreed to carry the child to term and turn the little girl over to her overjoyed father.

Hunter slid onto the bed beside his new family, wrapping them both in his strong embrace. The midwife had cleaned up and quietly left. "She's a miracle," Hunter murmured, gazing down at his sleeping daughter's face.

Miranda nodded. "Oh, yes." And as she cuddled into the curve of her husband's body and began to doze off, she reached out to him with her mind. ::Next time, we'll try for a boy.::

A boy. A smile tugged at Hunter's lips as he held his wife close and drifted to sleep.

The End

* * * * *

Author's Note: This story is dedicated to my best friend. Thanks for the creative input, babe! Now it's your turn to start posting your stories!