Restless Spirit (12 page)

Chapter Twenty-one

He slammed me to the hardwood counter on the wall. Bolts and pencils and pieces of sandpaper rained down on the floor. I was thankful for his neatness as I didn’t get a nail in the ass.

‘Put your feet up,’ he growled.

I put my feet up, allowing him to pluck my socks from my feet. He tossed them aside and positioned himself between my legs. I wrapped my thighs around his waist and took his kiss – starved, gritty and more than a little bit raw.

‘Shepherd,’ I started and he shook his head.

‘Don’t talk.’

Sinking my fingers into his beard I scraped my fingernails along the fragile skin beneath. So that he moaned and yanked me hard against him. ‘Shep–’

‘Hush.’

‘Shepherd, please take those fucking jeans off,’ I said in a rush so he couldn’t cut me off.

‘Getting there.’ Yanking my hair in two big clumps, just enough to make my spine tingle with pleasure and pain, he tilted my head back and scraped his teeth along the length of my neck. The bite he had administered throbbed in sympathy. My cunt picked up the beat and kept time.

I had never felt so very frantic for a man. Never had the urge to beg been so overwhelming. I grabbed his cock through his jeans and squeezed. I wasn’t gentle, he was so damn hard, that would make my point. That would make him hurry.

‘Fuck.’ He pulled his hands out of my hair and worked his buttons.

‘Exactly,’ I said and felt a blush heat my chest and my cheeks. I slid a finger below his waistband and touched his skin softly. Like a breath instead of a stroke.

He growled at me.

When aroused or tormented or angry he very much reminded me of a huge bear. Which turned me on enormously, more than I ever thought it would. ‘Spread,’ he said, cock free, jeans pushed down.

We both thought of it at the same time. Both of us stalling out.

‘Condom?’ I asked.

He shook his head. ‘You surprised me.’

I shook mine. ‘I slunk over.’

He started to pull up his jeans muttering, ‘House,’ but I stilled him with my toe.

‘Do you want to know how much I trust you?’

His expression became unreadable and I couldn’t quite get a deep breath. Someone had stolen all the oxygen from his tiny underground lair.

‘Tuesday, you don’t–’

I toed his cock and his eyes flickered like they would slam shut. Moisture slid from me onto his wooden counter. Hopefully he wouldn’t mind.

‘I trust you. Are you clean?’

He nodded, mouth a tight seam, eyes burning with intensity.

‘I am clean as a whistle. Got my pedigree in January at my yearly Gyn appointment.’

‘But–’

I didn’t know if the but was about me or him but I cut him off this time. ‘And I haven’t been with anyone without protection for a very long time.’

He made a sound that was half excitement, half frustration.

‘And a very long time means years,’ I said softly.

When had it gone from chilly to hot in here?

‘Tuesday.’ He took my foot in his hand, the span of his grip suddenly encircling my ankle like a manacle. It was the most erotic thing I’d ever felt. His bigness encircling my smallness. His grip caging my bones.

‘I’d like you … like that,’ I said, my voice a ghost of its normal self. ‘Bare.’

He grunted and stepped in still holding my ankle. ‘You don’t need to prove–’

‘Shut up, Shepherd.’ He was close enough now that I could reach down and take him in hand. All of him – the long, hard, exquisitely silken bulk of him.

He cupped my head with his free hand and kissed me again. Muttering things that weren’t quite words. Using my ankle as a guide he pushed my leg high so my heel rested on the edge of the counter. I moved my other leg to match so that my heels pressed the lip of the wood and my whole body was open to him.

And then he stepped back to look at me – swollen, wet, ready and red. He shook his head, pleasured sounds rumbling out of him and said, ‘You are fucking stunning. Do you know that?’

‘Don’t.’ It made me feel shy the way he ate me with his eyes. I was so wet I could feel it and it made me wetter to realise he could see every single bit of glistening arousal. Every slippery bit of proof that showed my need for him.

‘Shh.’ He reached for me but did not touch and my entire pussy tingled. Like he was touching me without touching me. Like he was magic.

‘Jesus, God, Shepherd,’ I said, my voice breaking with emotion. ‘Please. Please don't torture me any more.’

He broke. Moving between my legs, watching his own movements as he worked my slick split with the tip of his bare cock. And then we both exhaled at once as he nestled the helmeted tip of his erection just inside my body and then slid home.

It had been a long time – a very long time. To feel a man slide into you bare, flesh to flesh, heat to heat was an intense feeling. One I had not felt since before Phil. The realisation that he and I had never even done this and I had considered us a couple slammed me and I shook it off. Focusing solely on the feel of Shepherd’s body crushing against mine, pushing into mine. Parting me and filling me and riding me so that my body already had begun a sweet lazy trip toward release.

‘You’re so goddamned tight,’ he said against my ear. ‘You are so amazingly hot. Sweet. Sweet tight little pussy. Sweet mind fucking Tuesday,’ he murmured.

I came with his words – sticky, sweet, messy glorious – me and his words.

‘Yes,’ I said. I didn’t know to what but I meant it.

‘You’re in my head you know?’ His fingers bit into my ass as he held me. My feet still planted to the wood, I braced for his thrusts. But he had other plans and now he gathered my legs to circle his waist. He pushed his hands under my ass to anchor me and tilt me as he drove into me harder.

My head hit the wall, hair brushing my shoulder and making me shiver. He was in my head too.

‘In my head and my gut. And in my chest. When I think about you something in there squeezes. And when I saw you with that … man …’ He broke off. I squeezed my pussy up tight and he sighed, moving a bit gentler but with more intention. ‘Something in me raged.’

That scared me but I didn’t speak. Trailing fingers over his sweater, I touched the very top of his leg and then pushed my hands up under the pullover to feel the heated, lightly furred expanse of his stomach and chest. I could ride out the fear for another staggering orgasm was sneaking toward me. The first tentative spasms had sounded and it was all downhill from there.

‘But I’m not demanding anything from you, Tuesday,’ he said.

Good. I don’t know if I can give it.

‘But I am warning you. That’s all. You make me …’

I was coming. It had slammed me that hard and that fast that it surprised me to the point of silence. Shepherd felt it and his body stilled, hard and hulking and then he sighed out something that sounded, in tone, like a prayer and thrust once more before emptying into me. Shaking against me. Feeling for that one blissful moment in time fragile in my arms.

‘You make me crazy,’ he said softly. ‘But I’m not putting any chains on you, Tuesday.’

He pulled back to look at me. ‘Except maybe the ones you ask for,’ he amended.

‘Deal.’

I’d agreed to dinner. Out of town. No chance of running into Reed or Adrian or anyone who hadn’t seen me and wanted to chat.

We headed out of town on the lake road and I watched out of town cars fly by, one after another.

‘What the hell?’ I whispered. I’d pulled on a slate grey sweater coat and a long sleeved red blouse. My jeans were tucked into my nicest and most beloved leather boots and I’d worn my hair up in a crazy twist with chopsticks.

Then I beat Shepherd off with a stick when he tried to take me in the great room of my house. I’d resorted to demanding food and no other sustenance.

He chuckled, patting my leg. ‘What? No one told you?’

‘Told me what?’

‘The apple festival?’

‘What festival? What apples? There are no apples.’

‘Tuesday, not every single thing is right there on the lake front. There are apple orchards. And we draw quite a crowd every year to partake in the death of summer and the harvest of apples.’

‘Hunh,’ I said, pressing my forehead to the cool glass. ‘Go figure. I guess I never came in the fall. Or I came after the festival.’

‘That’s when I travel every year. To get the fuck out of Dodge.’

What? Travel?

I blinked but he couldn’t see me as he guided the truck into a right turn onto a much better paved road. ‘You’re travelling?’ I asked, tempering my voice.

‘Yeah. I was gonna tell you at dinner. I go every year when they do this shindig. I travel, sign autographs, hook up for a bunch of promo stuff.’

I thought hard and turned to him. ‘Cage Fighters for Cancer!’ I yelled.

He snorted and shook his head. ‘I’ll be damned. I was hoping you’d never–’

‘I think it’s great,’ I said. ‘You use your former ass kicking for good. How many kids, young men especially, look up to you guys? It’s good that they see you using your personalities and names for good.’

He nodded, face unreadable. ‘Thanks.’

‘See, you’re famous too! Not just Reed. So you should cut him some slack.’

He made a noise like an angry lion and I remembered that this man, who had just exposed a raw nerve of having feelings for me, had seen Reed and I doing the nasty on the kitchen floor.

Bad idea talking him up.

‘Sorry. The point is you have a following too.’

‘It’s extra money that helps me keep my house and the charity stuff is for a good cause. I lost a sister to cancer,’ he said quickly and then, ‘Hungry?’

‘Sorry,’ I said softly. ‘I mean, expert segue but I am sorry.’

He looked away and then laughed at himself which lifted my heart just a bit. ‘Yeah, that was pretty fucking bad. But are you? Hungry?’

‘I’m starved.’

He turned onto yet another small dark road and I saw a restaurant coming up on our left. Brilliantly lit like a golden mirage in the country darkness it looked welcoming. ‘Good, they have the best cream of crab soup here. And Porterhouse. Oh, and Chicken stuffed with … never mind. Order anything. It’ll be good.’

Chapter Twenty-two

What was not good was our waitress, Lucy. One look at her and how she was looking at Shepherd and I knew he’d fucked her. And that, for whatever reason, set my teeth on edge.

I was sure a hypocrite, wasn’t I. Couldn’t admit my feelings, refused to give him a shred of emotion, refused to promise anything and yet here I sat annoyed and jealous over a perfectly nice girl who was being perfectly kind to me.

Bitch.

We ordered after our drinks arrived. Shepherd, a Porterhouse, steak fries and fresh green beans with new potatoes. Me a crab cake, Yukon gold fries and a huge garden salad with Allister Lake’s signature Ranch dressing.

‘So tell me about little Miss Lucy,’ I said.

He cocked an eyebrow at me and I had a mental flash of me pinned to his workbench, heels riding the edge of the counter, Shepherd watching himself slide into my body. All of me erupted with goosebumps and then warmed to a volcanic heat in a heartbeat. The man did weird things to me.

‘We dated. She’s from out of town so that made it better.’

I tore off a piece of roll before popping it in my mouth. When it hit my tongue I paused to give an almost orgasmic moan.

He brushed my bangs free of my eyes and laughed. ‘Oh yeah, they bake ’em fresh.’

‘Dear Lord,’ I said, and took another bite. ‘Heaven.’

Shepherd took a swig of his beer and outside lightning split the sky. The needle fine spear of energy was visible as a blue-white flash through the restaurants slanted skylights. ‘Weird weather,’ he grumbled.

‘Nice try. Now tell me about Lucy.’

Shrugging, he grabbed his own roll. ‘Allister Lake is so damn small it helps to date out of the gene pool so to speak.’

‘Because of the …’ I wiggled my fingers in the air, not wanting to say it aloud in such a quiet environment.

He grinned with only one side of his mouth. It turned me inside out when he did that. Shepherd leaned in. ‘Whips, chains, hot candle wax on the–’

‘Games,’ I interrupted.

‘If that’s what you want to call them. Yes. But a) game indicates it’s a regular thing and b) that it’s light-hearted. It’s not either usually. It’s the right girl at the right time with the right desire.’

I blushed. ‘So you and she …’

I really didn’t want to know so I really didn’t know why I was picking it like a raw scab.

Shepherd blew out a sigh and thrust his fingertip under my palm and turned my hand so he could squeeze it. ‘We went out a few times, fu–had sex twice and only one was like that.’

I nodded. ‘Why did you–’ I shook my head. ‘Never mind.’

This was not the time or place.

‘Why did I tie you up? The other time you asked me to take you to that place you needed to go. Why did I do it today?’

He had leaned in so far I could smell his soap. We sat bent over the table like we were sharing secrets. Because we were.

‘Yes.’

‘You needed it. You could have been free at any time. I wanted you to realise that you were stronger than you thought. But that I was … safe, too.’ He shrugged again. ‘Tuesday, it’s very hard to put it all in words. The things that happen at times like that. I think that’s why people do it. It’s not a words thing, it’s an action thing. And it can be good or it can be bad. It all depends on–’

‘Whose hands you’re in,’ I said. I squeezed his hand and sat back when Lucy came with my salad.

‘Enough of that,’ I said, drizzling my salad with dressing. My first bite drew another orgasmic moan from me.

‘And that’s why it’s signature Ranch,’ he chuckled.

‘How often do you come here?’ I asked.

‘Once or twice a month.’

‘I’m surprised you don’t just camp out on the lawn.’

‘In the winter when I get really hungry and work a lot outside, trust me, I’ve considered it.’

‘So your sister,’ I said.

‘Pancreatic cancer.’

‘Wow.’

‘Yes, and very young. So the yearly trip to stockpile a bit of money to keep being the town handyman and not starve is important. But the cancer work is why I really go.’

‘Good for you.’ My throat felt suddenly tight. It was one thing to feel all kinds of weird and strange and somewhat unwelcome sensations and needs in my body for Shepherd. But when my heart flexed that way, when my belly warmed with something akin to but more than affection – it terrified me.

He swigged his beer again and I could tell it hurt him to talk about her. ‘Any other family?’

‘My mom’s in Florida. Went to live with my uncle. I only see her once or twice a year but I tend to call her once a week or so.’

‘Your dad?’ I ate another piece of bread and let it warm my tongue before chewing.

‘Ran out when I was three. You?’

Wow. The bread turned to sawdust in my mouth. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Stop saying that. I’m not some pity party you know.’ There was a flash of real anger in his dark eyes and I was momentarily stunned. Didn’t know what to say. Rare for me, I usually had something pithy to say to everything.

‘I know. I’m just … sorry is all. I don’t mean to–’

‘Sorry. Right. Now you. Parents?’

‘Dead.’

‘Both?’ I could tell he’d almost said he was sorry but I let the opportunity to rib him about it glide right by.

‘Yep. My senior year in high school. Car accident. Wrecked me – no pun intended,’ I blurted, blushing. How stupid was I? ‘Until I was about 20 I lived on my own because I was legal when it happened. I guess to a degree, I became the child of my parents’ neighbours, friends and acquaintances. Eventually, I thought I fell in love, I moved in with a dork, beat him with a bat at a later date, yada yada yada. Then I ended up here.’

‘Why didn’t you just come here when it happened?’

‘Good question,’ I said, levelling a finger at him. ‘I wanted to finish school in my school for one. In my mind it leant normalcy to it all. And I was … too stubborn?

I sat back because here came the food and what pretty food it was.

‘So, I was right,’ he said, tucking into his steak.

‘What?’

‘You are a warrior.’

It didn’t escape me that warrior had been one of my words for him.

Lucy had been nice but not hovery. How she managed that after being with a guy like Shepherd was beyond me. But I ended up liking her, despite my best efforts.

‘I have to get used to these country roads,’ I said. It was pitch black out but for squiggles of rain on the windshield and flashes of that lightning in the sky.

‘What’s to get used to?’

I watched his face in the darkness, speckled only by some light from headlights. It was unreadable but entirely handsome. My body got to craving by just looking at him and I considered putting my hand in his lap. I also considered the consequences of making him crash his truck.

‘It’s so dark and deserted and–’

A crack of lighting, very close, cut me off and I yelped.

Shepherd laughed. ‘I see what you mean. You’re very much a city girl, aren’t you?’

I snorted. ‘I mean, come on. Where’re the billboards? Where’s the neon? Where’re the spotlights?’

‘Back in the city,’ Shepherd said. ‘I don’t like it, though.’

‘What?’ More lightning and I realised I was gripping the door grip hard. What was wrong with me? I’d never reacted to weather. But the potting shed light and the unidentified noise and the newness of blackness and quiet at night all added up to make me a tiny bit uneasy.

The deluge started and Shepherd slowed the truck. ‘What are you doing?’ I gasped.

He pulled onto the shoulder in a thicket of bushes so we were boxed in on all three sides but for the driver’s door.

‘This section of road tends to get iffy during sudden storms that dump a large volume of water.’

‘Iffy?’ I breathed. I was barely audible above the sudden thunder and rage of the weather. And then, yes … hail.

‘Washes out, trees fall, best to sit here for a few moments while it passes. They never last long. Especially this time of year.’

He cut the engine and immediately our breath began to fog the windows. I shivered and waited for the dying summer’s last hurrah to fade.

‘I’m sorry I pried,’ I said.

He turned a bit in his seat. ‘That was prying?’ he asked. ‘Then you’re a keeper.’

His words slammed me and I went completely silent. So did he.

Rain slashed the windows from all directions and wind wracked the truck, buffeting it so it shimmied like a small boat in a rough sea.

‘I meant–’

‘It’s fine. We both need to stop clamming up every time someone says something that could indicate … feelings,’ I finished weakly.

‘I have to leave in the morning,’ he said, taking my hand.

‘I know. Have fun!’ The last sounded so very stupid and kiss-off-ish even to me.

He tugged me so that I had no choice but to face him some. ‘For the first time that I can remember I wish I didn’t have to go,’ he said.

‘To your events?’ I asked.

‘No. Away from someone.’

That scared me too, but fear was food to me. Had been for many years. I groaned and turned my body more to him. Getting up on my knees I threaded my finger into his beard and kissed him.

‘I am terrifying myself to say that I wish you weren’t going,’ I whispered.

Shepherd grabbed my leg and swung it over his lap. I straddled him, my butt brushing the hard steering wheel.

‘But I’m not asking anything of you. I don’t know if I could even. I think I’m fucked up and you’re–’

‘Twisted?’ I rocked in his lap until I felt the hard hump of his cock press to the lips of my sex.

‘Slightly less fucked up.’

‘Do me,’ I said against his earlobe. ‘Save me from the scary lightning and lake monsters.’

Under it all, I thought Shepherd wanted to save someone. Maybe because he hadn’t been able to save his sister. And me … I wanted to be saved. I went after abusive men with my Louisville Slugger but I wanted to trust someone enough to save me.

Neither of us was quite there yet, but we could pretend. For this storm. For this moment in time.

‘I don’t have … I wasn’t thinking …’ Each breath came out in a puff of air. I rocked and rocked and he made a sound like a man breaking.

‘It’s OK,’ I said. ‘In for a penny, in for a pound.’

‘I’m flattered that you think it’s a pound–’ He started to joke. I kissed him quiet by sliding my tongue past his lips and over his tongue.

‘Tuesday,’ he finished.

‘Do me, big boy,’ I laughed and the lightning flashed and I squealed and then we wrestled with our clothes and the truck and the closest quarters in which I’d ever fucked someone senseless.