Embers After 1 AM
Hera drained her wine glass.
After swallowing she lapped over her lips and peered into the empty glass. Temptation to get another glass rose up, but she shook her head and set the glass down. Sighing through her nose she looked up.
Staring back at her was the empty space where the big TV had been.
Uncurling from the couch, the jackal padded through her quiet house to her office. Hunting the Indian music CD, she turned her laptop on, set the CD to play, and sat down to work.
Hera's concentration waivered beyond her ability to work. The harder she tried the more obvious her distraction became, and she eventually sat back with a whine and curled up in her office chair, hugging her legs. For a time she closed her eyes and nuzzled into her knees.
When she opened her eyes once more, Hera saw the phone.
* * *
Staring at the ceiling and waiting for sleep to stumble on him had been a terrible strategy the last few nights. Tomorrow he would have to get something to help him rest.
Amal sat up in bed, grabbed the remote, and turned on the big TV sitting across the studio apartment from him. Channel surfing brought nothing of real interest so he settled on some late night talk show. He leaned against the wall, looking but not really paying attention. Eventually his body sagged against the wall, eyes having sunk beneath the fatigue of the last few restless nights, and his mind wandered the outskirts of consciousness.
A chirping rattle jerked him up straight, his ears at attention and head snapping about.
The first thought was to find it, where ever it was, to shut it off. Then the sound became familiar, his cell phone. He lurched out of the bed, sheets tangled, his movements too fast for his groggy mind to catch up. Fumbling through his pants from the day before he dragged out his phone and opened it. "Hello?"
"Amal. Please come over."
His ears stood as straight as his back. "Hera! Are you ok?" Exhaustion and fog was banished with the sudden speed of his heart.
"Yes. No. I..." Her voice was quieter then. "I'm lonely and I need you."
Amal's ears folded back. He knew saying that had hurt some part of her. "I'm coming."
* * *
The porch light turned on as he came up the walk and when Amal started up the stairs the front door opened. He froze in place.
Hera stood in the doorway wearing the kimono she had bought on the honeymoon. The pale yellow complimented the tawny of her pelt, and the green flowers and birds dancing over the robe brought out the color of her eyes. With the obi missing the kimono was only mostly closed. Her dark hair was left loose and lacked the wooden beads she constantly wore out.
Amal stepped inside and closed the door. For a long moment the two jackals stood in silence, not quite looking at each other.
Then with a lift of her proud head Hera opened the kimono.
Beneath the robe her long, lean body and subtle curves were bare, as she had thrown away the sexy bedroom wear he liked so much. Even without it she sped up his heart. The woman leveled a smoldering look at him.
He stepped close and their muzzles met with a simultaneous rrrl and a sharp breath through flared nostrils. For several moments their maws wrestled as they clung to one another as close as could be managed. The kiss broke with a pant. Hera pushed her front against him in a deliberate grind, nipped his lower lip and growled.
The door rattled as Amal shoved her against it. A surprised wurf turned into a moan as his tongue ran across her throat, and when she tipped her head back the jackal applied teeth in a steady trail across her neck. Rubbing over her lean curves with old familiarity Amal squeezed one of her breasts before his mouth moved down to tug at one dusky nipple. She clutched at the back of his head and slid a leg to press against his hip.
At first the jackal's bulge rubbed up between her thighs. Then he stopped and pulled back, paws leaving her body to wrestle with his pants.
With a growl Hera pulled out from between him and the wall. Strutting towards the bedroom she dropped the kimono and wagged her tail high, not bothering to look back.
Amal was nude and sliding his palms along her back by the time she reached the bedroom. Using her hair to bare her neck, he bit her again and drew a low bark out of her. Pressing back Hera rubbed her rear across his shaft before stepping away and climbing up onto the bed. When he joined her, Hera rolled on her back and pulled him atop her.
They both groaned as he pushed inside. Long legs wound around him as he kissed her and Amal slowly took her. Demanding pulls from the legs around him coaxed him faster. Desperate licks became a hungry kiss that fell apart to deep panting.
When she felt the start of his knot Hera bit down on his shoulder and unwound her legs, insisting a knee against his hip. He eased up and the woman rolled them over and sat astride him, paws planted on his chest. She began a quick and precise bouncing while baring teeth and arching her back.
The knot between them grew fat, making Amal whine and clutch at her hips. The woman's motions changed to a grinding horizontal rock that first worked the knot into her and then pulled at it. Mutual barks sounded as he tensed underneath her, and teeth on her nipple made her whole body grow taut over his.
She stretched out atop him. Panting and lolled tongues melted into licking and caresses in silence.
Later, Amal was pressed against Hera's back, their bodies anchored together again. With his arm around her middle and muzzle nestled in her hair, he found sleep.
* * *
The ringing phone yanked him awake. It sounded very close, and he pawed over the bed until he found the noise and made it stop. "Muh?" he groggily wurfed into the receiver.
"It's seven," Hera said. "You'll be late for work if you don't get up now." He could hear the car noises in the background.
Amal sat up, and for a moment he forgot that he wasn't supposed to be here. Then he remembered, and he sank back, eyes closed. "Okay," he replied.
"The coffee pot's on, and there's a muffin in the microwave. Have a good day, Amal."
"Thank you," he breathed into the phone before she hung up. Setting the phone down, the jackal laid there to think for several minutes. Her job didn't start any earlier than his; Hera had gotten ready and left early rather than see him. But if she had been upset, she would have let him fend for himself.
Amal dragged himself out of bed and went about the morning routine, aware of his typical toiletries absence. But something felt out of place. He went into the kitchen, gnawed on muffin and coffee. Something was wrong. The jackal rose and paced around the house, ears back, thinking. It all looked the same, nothing unaccounted for. He sniffed around to see if something was going bad.
The smell.
Everywhere he walked was the scent of cleaners, aroma candles and fresheners, all subdued to not overpower the canine nose, mingled with the smell of her that permeated the house. Hera had been tidy but not to this degree and the scent makers were new.
But the one thing that was not there was his scent. It was gone.
Ears back and tail plastered to the back of his thighs, Amal gathered his clothes and went to the car. Having the feeling he might spend the night, he had packed a fresh set of work clothes. But he stopped when he remembered something and popped the trunk, taking out something he had been meaning to drop off. Taking it up, he went back inside, found some paper and jotted a note. Then he left with haste, the smell of the house haunting his nose.
* * *
Hera opened the front door with a sigh, relieved to be home from the long day. Keys and purse put away, she padded into the kitchen and shook her head when she saw the empty coffee cup on the counter and the microwave door still open. The door closed, the cup in the sink, she pulled out some thawing chicken for dinner and went to her bedroom, undressing on the way in preparation for a shower.
Halfway to the dresser she stopped. Sitting on the unmade bed was a folded blue-white flannel blanket and a note. In Amal's blocky letters:
Hera,
_ I found this in my things when I unpacked. I wanted you to have it._
_ Don't call me over like that again. Please. I can't do it anymore._
_ Amal_
Picking up the blanket, she looked hard at it before the memory rushed to meet her. Amal had shown up at her work the day after their first date and all but dragged her out to lunch. She had not expected a picnic underneath a tree just beyond her building. It was there they kissed for the first time.
He had kept the blanket. He remembered.
Hera hugged the blanket, fell onto the bed steeped in their mingling scents, and wept.