Free Remedy Maker by Sheri Fredricks Page A

the floor. The creak of the glider rocker announced his pow-wow with Aleksander was in the next room.
    She sighed softly. There was something about having Rhycious and his hard strength near that relaxed her and allowed the world, with all its troubles, to twirl away.
    Patience crawled farther onto the bed and lay curled on her side, facing the door. The men’s conversation continued in low tones beyond the walls. She and Daisy used to stretch out on their backs at the creek, on top of the giant flat boulders. With their heads next to each other, they would dream about the men they’d one-day fall in love with. And laughed about wild chipmunk sex.
    She rolled to her back and smiled at the ceiling.
    His touch on her body was the most exciting and fearful sensation she had ever experienced in all her seventy-two years. Each glide of his calloused hand awakened a fiery need that burned in her body. She rubbed a spot below her belly button with a flat palm, feeling butterflies batting their delicate wings.
    Gods, the man was sexy.
    Covering herself with the blanket, she bent her knees and touched the slight ache between her legs. Damp cotton met her fingertips and she lifted her hips to take the underwear off altogether. Additional moisture flowed when her thighs parted. She wet her finger in the liquid, then brought it up to examine.
    Slick, with a tinge of pink. The sheen on her digit resembled polish on her skin.
    Losing her virginity on the couch wasn’t the way she had dreamed it would be. Nevertheless, Patience was pleased it had happened with Rhy. In her heart, she’d always believed the precious moment should happen with a special person.
    Though they had only just met, she felt drawn to him. He didn’t treat her like a sick child. He’d wanted her . . . as a female. That made him a special person. And it’s not like I have all the time in the world, either.
    He attracted her in ways she had never known. Most of her friends had done away with their membrane by their twenty-fifth winter. She’d be classified as dried-up kindling if word had gotten out about her intact status. 
    Heaving a deep sigh, Patience had no regrets. How could she? The Centaur was positively righteous. A giggle slipped out.
    Once again, she reached her hand beneath the blanket to cover the soreness between her legs, and closed her eyes. Weariness slid in and her mind drifted away like dandelion spores on a current of air. Thoughts performed a pirouette in her head, dancing among dreams and bowing low before memories.
    Unlike the other races, Nymphs had no body hair. Smooth legs and arms meant she never required the scrape of a razor. The pads of her fingers glided along the moisture generated from her first sexual encounter. Her outer labia passed soft and sleek to the touch. Sore muscles lay hidden within her body, and she could do no more than protect the area with her cupped hand.
    Before her illness had worsened, she’d taken much of life for granted. Little things like running through the forest in the moonlight—and never tiring. Visiting the Willow Bay City Park after dark with Daisy had also been a sneaky treat. Magazines thrown in trashcans often contained wonderfulicious articles and pictures of clothing designs.
    How long had it been since she had pushed herself without becoming weak and out of breath?
     Sadness and anxiety crept into her heart. Is this sickness fatal? How long do I have to live? She mentally shook her head. Stop the negative thoughts , she told herself, and focus on the positive .
    Rhycious.
    She was so caught up in the wandering of her thoughts and the texture of wetness below, she didn’t hear the Centaur’s heavy steps entering the room.
     
    *    *    *
     
     
    Oh. My. Gods.
    What was she doing to herself under Granny’s blanket? Both eyes were closed and her hands were hidden beneath the cover. That perfect pouty mouth of hers relaxed open, breath coming shallow. Rhy’s grip on the door handle