Restless Spirit (20 page)

Chapter Thirty-seven

My fingers flexed for him, my body rising up to try and touch him. He continued to watch, his face stoic, his mouth set, but his eyes soft. His eyes, those big brown eyes – fuck, they were so … full.

‘Shepherd,’ I said, laying a hand flat on his hard abdomen. Feeling those muscles ripple and buck beneath my touch. Tracing a finger down that trail of hair from navel to pubis, I remembered how I’d wanted him home.

How I’d missed him.

How he was the only one I’d let help me.

I bit my lip to keep it at bay as he ran that silken helmet of flesh along my cunt opening again. I gasped, moving toward him in a tiny thrust but failing to engage. ‘Shepherd,’ I said again, echoing myself. And finally I crushed down my own barrier and simply said, ‘Love me.’

And that was that. He thrust in deep. He filled me up. Crushed his warm firm chest to my breasts and kissed me like I might disappear. I didn’t know if those were the words he wanted or just some variation. It didn’t matter. I wrapped my legs around his thick waist and opened my body to him. Relishing the feel of his cock slamming the tiny bundles of lust-fattened nerve endings in my pussy. I was so plump, so ripe, so goddamn sensitive I seemed to sway under him. It felt like I was underwater caught in some invisible current.

The room moved, the earth moved, the air moved … with us.

His shoulders were hot under my hands as I gripped him tight – probably painfully tight, but he didn’t complain. With his teeth, he explored the slope of my neck, the jut of my jaw, my earlobe and my bottom lip. Small sharp bursts of pain that quickly morphed to bliss exploded along my skin. His head lowered and his teeth found my nipples.

Bite … My cunt flexed.

Bite …A deeper flex, a moan from me. It swelled out of me before I knew it was coming.

Bite …A small flickering spasm and I was holding him, nearly pinching him.

He thrust hard and rocked his hips and bit the swell of soft flesh above my heart and I came with a cry that I had never heard from myself. I’d never made that sound before. How could someone not love this man? How could someone stop?

They were colder women than me, I guess.

As scary as it was to realise just how I felt, it was baffling to think of that changing. Which made me tremble with fear instead of pleasure.

Shepherd rolled off me and onto his side, gathering me in so we lay face to face. Strong as he was it was nothing to hold my right thigh up and steady himself. He moved so his cock was between my legs and looked me in the eye. ‘Put me in you.’

I did. My hands still shaking, I reached down and guided the tip of him to my pussy. I rocked my hips to get him in and once he was in, he thrust deep, his fingers so tight on my ankle as he held me wide I feared I’d bruise – I hoped I’d bruise.

My urge at realising my true feelings was to run. To fuck him hard and then to run fast. I bit my lip to focus my mind and steel my heart.

I could not do that. I couldn’t do it to him and I couldn’t do it to me.

‘You love me,’ he said, snagging my wrists and trapping them above my head. He rolled half on me and let me wrap my legs around his waist. My wrists ground together and my body arched up on its own seeking the warmth of him.

I said nothing. It brought me down to a whimper – his words.

He held me tighter and rocked into me – a hard but soft rhythm that was both lulling and urgent.

‘You love me,’ he said again, his lips meeting mine, his tongue seeking mine.

I did.

‘You love me,’ he gasped, fucking me harder, my hair rasping against his kitchen throw rug, my feet pinned to the back of his waist. I dug in with my heels, thrust up with my hips, opened to him to get him as deeply as I could.

‘Say it,’ he said.

‘I …’

I blinked, shook my head, small traitorous tears leaking from my eyes and yet it was right there – on the tip of my tongue.

‘Say it. It’s true. You know it is.’

I swore I could hear him smiling but I kept my eyes shut tight.

‘I …’

He growled in my ear, ‘You can’t be afraid forever, Tuesday.’

I swallowed, arched up and he drove deep and I came. I came so hard tiny white fairy lights danced in the darkness behind my lids and on the final exhalation prompted by pleasure I said, ‘I love you, Shepherd.’

‘Fuck,’ he said.

‘Not the response I was hoping f–’

But he was gripping me by the hips and driving his cock deep and kissing me like I was precious and when he grunted, giving one final thrust before emptying into me he whispered, ‘And Christ how I love you, Tuesday. I think since the first time you smiled at me.’

Funny, I was full of so much then. Worry, joy, fear, love, lust, terror. I laughed. It was all I could do. I laughed and I laughed until I cried. And when that happened he held me. He wasn’t offended. He was OK.

‘I know, baby. It’s the scariest thing I’ve felt in over a decade. But it’s there. And I’m man enough to admit it.’

‘Me, too,’ I said. Then I snorted and he was laughing with me.

‘Yes, you are man enough to admit it too.’

I stared at his kitchen ceiling.

He was lying next to me, tracing his finger from the space between my breasts down to my belly button to make my skin flicker and tremble. He smiled at me.

‘What do we do now?’ I asked.

I tried to ignore the anxiety balled in my chest like lead.

‘We go day by day and we just … figure it out.’

‘Do we burst into flames or anything?’ I asked.

He chuckled. ‘Nope.’

‘Are you sure? The last time I let myself feel something – that trust me, was minor compared to this – it was a total disaster.’

‘Me, too.’

‘And I hit him with a bat.’

‘And she left me and I fucked every woman that looked at me sideways.’

‘And I had to run.’

‘And I broke more hearts than any man should have in the name of protecting myself,’ he countered.

‘And–’

‘And now we’re here,’ he said, and kissed my hair. ‘And it will be OK.’

‘I’ll try,’ I said.

Shepherd levelled me with his extremely unsettling gaze – it was so direct at times it was startling to the likes of me. ‘Try what?’ he asked.

‘Not to fuck it up,’ I said.

‘Me too.’

I sat up and put my hands on his chest. Just feeling his heat and the soft thrum of his heartbeat. ‘But what if we do?’ I asked him.

My voice broke and I was so mortified, so terribly embarrassed, I waited to burst into flames. But if I couldn’t be real with a man I was admitting to loving who the fuck could I be honest with?

‘I won’t let you and you won’t let me. Now how about if you let me run you a bath. I have a nice deep claw foot tub your grandmother use to tease me about. And I’d love to see you in that thing – naked …’ He slid his hand down over my hip and then my thigh. It felt so good when he touched me it was almost sinful. ‘And wet.’

‘What do you mean she teased you about it?’ I leaned over to kiss him. I couldn’t stop kissing him.

‘She called it a panty dropper tub,’ he said. ‘Apparently, girls like tubs like that.’

‘I bet she never expected it to be my panties.’

‘I like to think she’d approve.’ He brushed my too-long bangs out of my eyes. Touched my nose.

I warmed all over as girlish as it sounds. ‘Plus, I’ve already dropped my panties for you. Lots of times.’

‘If I have my way, you’ll do it lots more, too. Maybe forever.’

More anxiety beating big black wings in my chest. But under it a warm comfort. A peace. My nan’s unheard voice telling me to go ahead and take a goddamn chance. On him. On me.

I stared at it. ‘It is a panty dropper,’ I sighed.

It was the kind of tub my other grandmother back in the city had had. A big white porcelain claw foot tub with the lion’s feet and everything. The skylight showed me a dark velvet swatch of night overhead and the room’s soft lights made me think of amber or softly flickering fires.

‘So drop the panties.’

‘I’m not wearing panties,’ I said and sat buck naked on his toilet lid.

Shepherd turned the water on and rummaged through a small cabinet by the bathroom door. ‘I have bergamot, cinnamon, sandalwood. Sorry, I dated a woman who worked in one of those fancy-pants bath shops.’

‘All manly scents,’ I said, laughing.

‘I guess. But which do you want?’ He faced me and when I really looked at him, head to toe, from expression to stance – my heart seized up.

‘What do you use?’

‘None of them. I just can’t see wasting them.’

‘What’s in your cologne?’

‘I have no idea.’ He was waiting and smiling and his cock was getting hard again. I watched it twitch a bit and fought the urge to crawl to him and take him in my mouth.

We’d get there. No rush.

‘Which would you use?’ I shifted a bit and caught his gaze lingering on my breasts and the small roundness at my belly. I spread my legs knowing my pussy would be flush and pouty again. Ready again.

‘The sandalwood, I guess. That’s the one that smells most natural and the least like perfume.’

I nodded. ‘Good. Then I can get clean.’

‘Then I can get you dirty again,’ he said almost to himself. His voice a tumbling growl.

He squirted a healthy amount of the bath bubbles in and foam started to rise, filling the small but pristine room with sandalwood scent.

I said nothing, my throat a little tight, my heart a little fast. When Shepherd offered me his hand I took it in and climbed into the tub slowly. The heat made me hiss.

‘Too hot?’ He cocked an eyebrow.

‘Yes. And just the way I like it. I love hot, hot water.’

‘For real?’ He didn’t look convinced.

‘Sir, when I get out of the shower, I am the colour of a cooked Maine lobster.’ And it was true.

He leaned over me, his bulk eclipsing the pretty overhead antique light. ‘I like that whole Sir thing. We’ll get to all that soon enough.’

I eyed him, sank a bit lower in the molten water. ‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah. Any special requests?’

‘Do you have a leather belt?’

His face was unreadable but the pulse at the base of his throat slammed for a second or two. ‘Yes.’

‘Good.’

‘Done that before?’ His fingers tangled in my bangs and then he kissed my eyelids one at a time. It made me feel dopey, the sensation of his lips on my skin.

‘Nope.’

Shepherd sat back on the thin lip of the tub, balancing with one arm thrown across the width of the porcelain. ‘And what makes you want to try that?’

‘You.’

‘My cock’s hard,’ he said and laughed.

‘I should hope so.’

Out in the night a soft sound emanated. It was soft but not normal and when Shepherd said ‘Be right back’ and left to check it out, the way my gut bottomed out told me that what he’d find wouldn’t be good.

Chapter Thirty-eight

‘I’ll be back.’ He was pulling jeans on and nearly tripping over himself. Then he set the Louisville Slugger inside the door and rushed forward to kiss me.

‘Wait! What? What’s happening, Shepherd?’

I was submerged in hot water damn near up to my neck and still I felt a cold shiver of fear work under my skin.

‘There’s a fire. By your house. I don’t know if Adrian’s there or even–’ He grunted and shook his head.

‘Well, just call 9-1-1 and–’

‘I did. But it will take them too long to get there. I don’t know who set it and I don’t know if I can trust Adrian to tend to it and Tuesday, fuck, by the time they get here it’ll have spread to the house.’

I watched him shove his feet in boots. ‘Lock the door behind me and stay in the bathroom with the bat.’

‘But–’

‘Don’t argue. I mean it. I don’t want to leave you but if I don’t go and turn the hose on those bushes and dried out weeds, it’s going to really catch and then your house is in trouble.’

I opened my mouth to speak and he was gone. Pointing to the door and saying, ‘Lock it.’

I heard his boots on the steps and the front door and just sat there like a goose in a pot of boiling water. ‘What the fuck?’

I was stunned for a second but then angry. ‘Fuck this shit,’ I growled.

Shepherd would be much faster getting to the house and dealing with the beginnings of a fire. If Adrian were home, I knew he’d come to help even if he didn’t like Shepherd. Despite their dislike for each other, and despite what Shepherd thought of him, I knew Adrian was innocent. This was something else. Something worse than a jealous ex boyfriend I’d had casual sex with upon my return.

I shook off the sandalwood scented sheets of water and stepped warm, and soap covered from the tub. His towels were huge – to fit him I guess – and it wrapped around me twice. The ends of my braids dribbled warm water down my chest. They had soaked up water like twin sponges only accenting the unsettling feel of too cool air on my too warm skin.

I grabbed the bat and turned to lock the door and for a split second my brain didn’t register. I heard the faint rustle of a person moving and my first thought was to assume it was Shepherd. But it wasn’t Shepherd and when I did look up into the stern troubled face, I had a moment of recognition and normalcy.

Before it set in.

‘Hi, Tues.’

‘Hi, Stan.’

Not Phil. Phil was gone in the wind, it seemed. It was Stan.

Don’t leave, Tuesday … Or take me with you.

He wanted me to stay. He’d loved me and I’d very succinctly told him that we’d never been together. Never.

‘I came for you.’

Funny, he didn’t look crazy. And maybe he wasn’t. Maybe just somewhere in his brain this would all work out – there’d be a happy ending. He was here to rescue me from a life I’d thought I’d wanted but I’d been wrong. In his mind, he was the knight in shining armour.

‘I’m staying here, Stan,’ I said, curling my fingers around the neck of the bat. The bat was becoming a fucking joke I was employing it so often.

‘I don’t think you should. There’re critters in your basement.’ He smiled at me.

Yep. Crazy.

‘Just a big ole’ Stan in my basement,’ I said and tried to smile back. ‘Nothing that would fit in a cage, right?’

‘Right.’

‘And my potting shed.’

‘First place I could get into once I got here.’

‘So, what? You were right on my tail all the way here?’

‘Pretty much.’ He took a step forward and the hair on the back of my neck stood up. I could see the manic flickering lights of the fire he’d set to distract Shepherd through the dark windows.

I had no cell phone. I had no gun. I had nothing. But my bat.

‘Look, Stan, I don’t want to hurt you.’

‘You won’t.’

Then he laughed at me. To him it was ridiculous. The thought of me hurting him. But I’d hurt men just as big and nearly as crazy.

‘I don’t love you.’

I took a step back.

‘I told you, you’re just a restless spirit is all.’

He took a step forward.

‘Not any more,’ I said. ‘That’s not what I am now. You set the fire?’ I rushed on, just trying to distract him, eyeing up the small room for any way to help myself out of this situation.

‘To distract your caveman.’

‘Ah,’ I said softly. ‘And he went to save my house and …’

‘I slipped in the front door when he was gone. He really should have seen that coming.’

‘Funny, I did,’ Shepherd said from the doorway, his face a dark mask of rage.

I didn’t ask any questions. I simply took the moment that was offered. When Stan turned, startled by Shepherd, I clocked him. I took a short but hard swing with the bat. I wanted to put him down and not kill him.

Stan made a sound that was half grunt, half cry and hit the ground on his knees. He slid in some water and I took the short end of the bat when he landed face down and jabbed him right between the shoulder blades. The air rushed out of him in a whoosh. That would help keep him down.

Shepherd rushed toward me and I dropped my ass onto the toilet seat again, the towel still damp but secure around me. My fingers started to shake first so I dropped the bat. Then my thighs started in, my stomach even trembled, my arms jittered and my teeth started to clack.

‘What the hell?’

‘Shock. Flood of adrenaline. All that good shit. Not abnormal for even a fighter. The more combative, the bigger the after effect.’ As he spoke, he worked efficiently, wrapping a plaid robe he grabbed from a bathroom hook around me like a cape. I could barely hear him above my annoying clacking teeth. They sounded like the novelty teeth that walked on giant cartoon feet.

‘I’m OK,’ I said.

‘Oh sure you are. Nobody fucks with you,’ he said and wet a washcloth. Then he pressed it to the back of my neck.

Stan started to stir, pushing up on his hands and glaring at Shepherd.

‘Stan,’ I said to Shepherd and nodded.

It only took a second. I knew it would happen, but I let it. Sometimes you got what you deserved. Shepherd grabbed Stan by the back of his collar, reeled him back. ‘I was hoping you’d wake up.’

Stan was up on his feet, wobbly but aggressive and I got to see my cage fighter in action. ‘Wrong girl, wrong house, wrong lake front. Bad plan,’ he growled and clocked Stan once. Just once. And Stan went limp.

‘You didn’t kill him did you?’

‘Unfortunately, no,’ Shepherd said.

‘My house?’ It was the closest I could get to asking if it was on fire.

‘It’s fine. Adrian came out to help and then the fire crew showed up so I rushed back. As soon as that door clicked behind me I felt bad – like something was off. I couldn’t ignore it as worry any more, so I came back.’

‘Should we call the police?’

‘Already did.’ He picked me up and I let him. He kissed my hair and I let him. I felt my need for him and I let myself. I let myself need him.

‘Where are you taking me?’

‘To get a shot of whiskey and away from this joker.’

I put my head against his shoulder and knew soon we’d be having an exhausting talk with cops. Cops who would fingerprint my basement and my potting shed and ask me questions and all that bullshit. I’d had to deal with that after I ended things with Phil. I hoped no one blamed me this time. I doubted with Shepherd in the vicinity that’d happen.

‘Shepherd?’

‘Yeah.’

Down the stairs we went and I allowed myself the pleasure of sinking against him. I’d wielded my bat and I’d taken down Stan but it was OK to feel this way I realised.

‘Don’t leave me alone with them. I need you.’

He stilled but then set me in a leather easy chair and poured me that shot. ‘I’m not going anywhere, Tuesday.’

‘Did you hear me?’ I demanded almost angrily. ‘I said I need you.’

He chuckled softly and handed me the shot. ‘Drink it.’

My hands still trembled and I hated whiskey but I did it. I drank it and amber fire filled my throat, and then flooded my gut. I gave him the glass feeling damn near bratty.

Then he sank down next to me and pulled me onto his lap. ‘I need you too, Tuesday. I’m not going anywhere.’

I let out the breath I didn’t even know I’d been holding.

‘I love you,’ he said softly.

They were coming. The lights, the sirens, the invasion would be here any moment.

I turned in his lap and buried my fingers in his hair. He made a noise because I tugged that hair hard enough to hurt a bit. But I kissed him so hard and so long he made that noise that signalled fucking to come.

‘You have to behave. They’re coming,’ I said.

‘They won’t be the only ones.’

‘Careful, I have a bat and know how to use it. Don’t be cheeky.’

‘Know how to use it? We’re getting that damn thing bronzed,’ he said.

‘Then it’ll be even more dangerous.’

‘True story.’

Then the doorbell rang. The police were here.