by Keri Hudson
But as they were walking out of the restaurant, Sheriff Richard Spalter just happened to be walking in. “Oh, Mr. Williams, we meet again. You’re spending more time in town.” He looked at Jessica, gorgeous on his arm. He smiled. “Little doubt as to why.”
“Sheriff Richard Spalter, this is Jessica Hume, in town for a few days.”
He smiled and gave her a little bow. “Welcome, young lady.” He looked back at Quinton with a little smile and said simply, “Enjoy,” before walking deeper into the restaurant.
Jessica said, “You too.” She turned, she and Quinton sharing a little chuckle before moving on and out the door. “Seems like a nice guy,” she said.
“He’s a good man,” Quinton replied.
She looked around at the quaint, Victorian structures, old-fashioned iron lampposts on that particular block. “It’s really very charming,” Jessica said. “Why don’t you spend more time here? I mean… you could have found a… a girlfriend or a wife, or…?”
Quinton knew what she was getting at. He was glad to answer the question. “I’ve been to town a few times, but… no reason to stay.”
Jessica nodded, seeming to understand. He hadn’t found the woman he wanted or needed or loved in Anchorage, not until the day before, when he met Jessica.
They strolled past one place, designed to look like an old-time saloon. A piano jangled from inside, and Jessica stopped and looked the place over. “Can we?”
Quinton smiled and held his hand out before walking with her into the saloon. It was like walking into a bygone era, but of course it had been designed that way. Quinton was more impressed with Jessica, taking it in.
She said, “Fun!” as she pulled him by the hand to the bar. She winked at the bartender and said, “Two red-eyes, pardner!”
He huffed out a little chuckle and nodded, turning to pour two shots of Seagram’s bourbon. He slid them in front of Quinton and Jessica. “Just don’t shoot up the joint!” Another chuckle before Quinton and Jessica raised their glasses, toasted with them, and drank them down. She continued to astound. Her wit was infectious, and she had a way of bringing out the best in others. And she was no prim princess, no spoiled girl from Los Angeles. And for all the seriousness of her work, and her obvious dedication to it, she had a good sense of humor and a good nature.
The bourbon was hot going down, warm in Quinton’s belly. He felt strong, he felt tall, he felt every bit of his human form. The music played, others dancing on a small dance floor in one area of the saloon. Quinton couldn’t miss her implication.
He took her hand, so small and delicate in his. “Shall we?”
She brightened, green eyes flashing. “Let’s!”
Quinton led her to the dance floor. The rhythm had just changed, to a song Quinton didn’t know. But it had a rhythm that spoke to him instinctively: slow, a waltz with three beats at a time. It echoed centuries before, but it was also timeless, and Quinton had already learned how to control such rhythms, and how to be controlled by them.
“If you want a happy wife,” his father had once said, voice echoing in the back of his memory, “learn to cook, to clean, and to dance.”
Quinton held Jessica close, looking down into her eyes as she looked up into his. She wore a gentle smile, the light catching her creamy complexion just so. He moved her with easy assurance, her body feeling weightless before him. One of her hands was in his, her arm wrapped around the small of his back. She seemed all the more angelic, swaying to that timeless tune, no words to describe the feelings growing between them.
And it seemed they weren’t the only ones. They appeared to be attracting the attention of the other dancers, people glancing at them and murmuring to one another.
The music swirled around them, through them, increasing the sexual allure, one body taunting the other. And there could be no doubt in Quinton’s mind, body, or soul what he wanted or even what she wanted. His fondest hopes had somehow come true, against all odds. And though he wanted that dance to go on forever, he was increasingly anxious for what would come next.
The harmony and melody seemed to be reaching its climax, Quinton leading Jessica with deftness and certainty, she reacting as if an extension of her own hands, of his own body, his own soul.
As the music rolled toward its logical conclusion, Quinton leaned Jessica back, her long, red hair tumbling back behind her. The music ended at the perfect moment and they froze, the picture of romance.
The small crowd of dancers had gathered around them, and they broke out in a round of applause for them. Quinton wasn’t used to that much attention, but Jessica was resplendent beneath him, and he felt majestic above her.
CHAPTER NINE
Jessica was clinging to him all the way to the Gold Dust and then up the stairs. There was no doubt, no second-guessing anything. Jessica was nuzzling at his shoulder, even starting to bite into him playfully as they walked down the hall. She had real passion, Quinton could already tell. But once they were in the hotel room, she threw herself at him in a way he wasn’t expecting, in a way no other woman had. Though Jessica was petite and lithe and sweet, she had an inner animal stirring, and it was clear to Quinton that she had just set that hidden beast free.
Quinton knew just how she felt.
She pushed his jacket off and tossed it onto a big easy chair in the corner. His shirt came next before she started to kiss his muscular chest, little bites thrilling him as she unbuckled his belt and let his pants drop. He was already hard and getting even harder, and her hungry little moan told Quinton that she liked what she was seeing.
Jessica stripped herself in no time and was suddenly kneeling in front of him, a goddess who still seemed in a position of worship. She grabbed his long, thick manhood and squeezed tight, pulling and pumping and twisting just a bit before slipping it into her mouth. It was warm and wet and wonderful, and Quinton’s strong legs flexed to remain strong. Her tongue danced around him, tracing the curves of his head, his most sensitive spot.
Jessica took it in, holding the base with one hand and pumping midshaft with the other. She took it out and rubbed it against that gorgeous face, over her cheeks and nose, head against head, kissing and licking the undercarriage before taking it in again.
Quinton’s legs nearly gave out beneath him, but he stayed strong. He knew he’d need every bit of it.
Jessica pulled him out and raised him high, lowering herself to tend to his swollen sack. Quinton spread a bit wider as she took one into her mouth, letting the other rest on her cheek. Her tongue pushed it up, rolled it just so, a sensation even Quinton had never experienced. She lolled it in her luscious mouth before releasing it to take in the other. Quinton’s hand found the back of her head, resting gentle and not pushing her in. There was no need.
It was an incredible thrill, not only to feel that hot mouth wrapped around his hardened sack for the first time, but that it was her mouth, Jessica’s mouth. It was a sensation he hoped to be able to enjoy again and again, throughout their lifetimes. But at that moment, Quinton wanted more, and so did Jessica. Both would have their fill.
She rose up, seeming to climb him like some human tree. But Quinton was not content to stand there and be serviced. His own inner beast was ready to rage. She was shorter than he, and he felt massive in front of her, powerful with her in his arms. Jessica’s body seemed a perfect match for his, fitting with perfect complement and symmetry.
Jessica reached up and wrapped her arms around his shoulders and neck, pulling herself close and kissing him deeply. Her feet pressed against the fronts of his thighs before he walked her to the wall of the little bedroom suite. Her legs bent back, feet rolling just a bit as he put himself inside her. She gasped.
Quinton took it slow. He knew what a man of his size could do to a little beauty like Jessica, and he knew what she could be capable of too. But there was no way her raging passion could go on at such a pace or she’d tear herself apart. So he held her, arms pinned, hands around her naked back, her nipples rubbi
ng his own. She looked at him in stifled desperation as he eased himself in. Those gorgeous eyes slid closed as her mouth dropped open. She trembled and he paused, then pulled back and went in again. Quinton gave her the first portion only, her lithe body pressed against the wall in front of him. Her feet pressed against his legs to keep the proper distance, to give her some of the control of their bodies, and that was just as Quinton would have hoped. This was no waif to be ravaged and no frantic college girl. This was a woman, in control and aware enough to match a man like Quinton, move for move—as they were about to find out.
A bit faster and a bit deeper, Jessica moaned and hit the back of her head against the wall, head rolling. The feel of her around him, that wondrous pressure, was utter perfection. No other woman had fit him so well, and none would ever have the chance to compete. Jessica’s sweet clench hummed with the vibration of her whole body, the center of her being and of Quinton’s, from that moment forward.
In and out at a nice, steady pace, still withholding much of what he had to give. But he could see that it was already enough, already more than any other man had given her. Her feet pressed against his thighs, knees upraised, gorgeous breasts jiggling with the fine grind.
Jessica shook her hips just a bit, contrasting his lateral push with a sideways wiggle that sent waves of pleasure through his body. Her creamy, pale legs flexed and her energy passed through her feet and into Quinton’s legs, encouraging a faster cycle.
Quinton was happy to oblige.
He went deeper, but slowed his motion to let himself glide up and into her. She moaned louder, legs locked at his sides. “God, oh God, ohhhh, ooohhhhh…”
Quinton went in slow and deep and let himself rest there, savoring the delightful feeling of her amazing body wrapped around him. Jessica turned her head to the side, pressing against the wall, shoulder rising up, glistening with just a bit of her sweat. Her body was tightening, roiling, and he knew she was already approaching a climax.
But he was in no rush. So it was another long stroke, letting it stay there, where he was certain no man had ever reached. He could feel her body’s deepest locus, muscles twitching and flinching around him as she squeezed as tight as she could. He was getting all her strength and focus, all her attention. It was astounding to him in every way and on every level, and his own strength grew in response.
A bit faster and just as deep, he pushed himself against her delicate pink tissues, wrapped around him like some sexy little fist. She turned her hip to increase the pressure, her jaws clenched as Quinton kept grinding.
He could feel her orgasm rising, and he could feel Jessica suppressing it. She clearly knew it would be all the stronger and all the sweeter for the wait.
Quinton moved faster still, deep and long and back and forth, Jessica twisting and shifting, banging against the wall behind her as he filled her completely.
Quinton pulled her away from the wall, Jessica gasping with shocked delight. Her feet slipped and she slid down a bit further onto him, pushing a loud, long moan out of her flexing throat, head falling back.
He spun her clockwise and to the bed. Jessica landed on the mattress, Quinton remaining on his feet next to the bed. Taller than the height of the mattress, Jessica’s hips were pulled up off the bed, her legs idle at each side of his naked hips. She looked up at him, her red hair spilled out on the bed behind her, an angel.
Quinton put his hands on her narrow hips, her perfect body splayed out in front of him—not a speck of fat, breasts round and firm and perfect, legs strong and sexy. He pulled her hips up just a bit, already deep inside her. He pulled her up and let her back down in tiny increments but at a quick pace. Jessica grabbed his wrists and clung tight, but did not try to pull them away.
He went on with the piledriver even faster, and he knew her body was exploding inside. Her world had been turned upside-down, sensations she’d clearly anticipated. Her eyes rolled back, mouth open in a silent scream as her body trembled.
Quinton’s discipline would let him wait, go on for hours if it pleased him. But at that moment, looking at that gorgeous thing bobbing and quaking beneath him, Quinton let loose. He felt the internal powerhouse lurking, rising and ready at his command. So with a flurry of pump and piston and twisting and squirming, Quinton released that hot wad down his shaft. He could trace it as it launched, speeding through him and gushing into her. He spasmed and jutted to hurl it deep into Jessica, and another thrust delivered another mighty release.
Jessica could feel it, Quinton was certain, she knew. Their mutual orgasm swirled inside her, filling her on every level. It was a shared moment, a recipe no two others could concoct. And Jessica seemed to be drunk with it, drowning in it.
Their bodies were tense, locked in the muscular cramps as their bodies exerted every bit of energy into their deluge until the tide finally receded. Quinton slowly lay down next to her, their bodies facing one another, his purchase in her still secure. He rolled onto his back and she lay on his chest, cooing and sighing in a sweet song Quinton hoped would never end.
CHAPTER TEN
That terrible dream had returned, or else Quinton had returned to it; he couldn’t be sure and it hardly mattered. He’d hoped that when he found Jessica, a new family of his own to fill the hole left by the one he’d lost, the dream would fade into the past, where it belonged.
But it was back, and it had an even greater clarity and vitality. It was more lifelike, altogether too real though he knew it couldn’t be.
It was only a dream.
Quinton was thrown back by the raging red ursine, knocked back into the trunk of a jack pine, and he collapsed, head vibrating. He lay helpless, the worst feeling he’d ever known, not from the numbing pain ringing in his head, but from the one in his heart. His father was locked in a battle in the snow, the bigger animal driving the small one back.
Quinton wanted nothing more than to partake in that battle, to shift and rise up and destroy that encroaching enemy at the expense of his life. But in that bed, as in ten years before, his body was marble, immobile; he couldn’t raise his arms or call out or do the one thing he was born to do.
His father was fighting the good fight, with only his wife able to enter the fray. She cocked the shotgun and fired.
K-blam!
Quinton turned to see her, expecting to see his mother. Instead, he saw another familiar woman, this one a younger woman, redheaded, gorgeous.
Jessica! He tried calling out her name but couldn’t, a prisoner of his own body and his own conscience. Jessica, get out of here, go… run!
But she didn’t. That brave and beautiful woman stepped forward, breasts high and shoulders back, the look of impassioned determination on her radiant face. She cocked the shotgun again and aimed, firing once more.
K-blam!
The big red ursine took the shot and reared up, turning from the already dying body of his bloodied father.
Quinton wanted to scream out, No, Jessica, no, don’t! Turn and run, run for the hills! Maybe you’ll get lucky, come across a miracle… But he was silent, and she didn’t hear him. She seemed fearless, standing before the great red shifter, on its hind legs before her.
She turned to face Quinton, still locked by unknown forces against that tree. She was so beautiful in that moment, her face breaking in a soft, pleasant smile.
The ursine struck, quickly opening its mammoth mouth and biting down onto the upper half of Jessica’s head. She dropped the shotgun and turned, hand clawing at the ursine’s head as it held her. It pulled up and let go briefly, then bit down again, taking all of Jessica’s head in its mouth. She seemed to be screaming, muffled in the beast’s mouth, arms reaching out to him for help.
But Quinton couldn’t, then as before. He was bound by not only the wound in the back of his head, but the one in the bottom of his heart. He was his own greatest enemy, it seemed, unable once again to protect the people he loved.
His family.
Jessica began to flail wildly, punching
at the ursine’s head as it pulled up, let go briefly again, and wrapped its great jaws over her neck and shoulders.
Quinton strained to move, every effort met by an opposite effort from behind, and he knew just what it was: gravity, the will of the Earth, his true mother. She’d betrayed him, as he’d always feared, and she was an enemy he could not best.
Nor did Jessica stand any chance against the ursine. And because it was a dream, and Quinton seemed to know that, the creature was capable of illustrating Quinton’s deepest fears instead of the frankest realities. The ursine’s mouth expanded in a way no bear’s could, more like the detachable jaw of some great, fat, hairy snake, massive arms slack at its sides. Another jut pulled poor Jessica up and wrapped that expanding jaw around her shoulders. Her arms were a frantic blur, legs splayed to keep herself on her feet for a few precious seconds more.
Get up, Quinton told himself, get up while you still can! But Quinton’s body was numb, and he could already tell it was too late. It always had been.
The ursine lifted Jessica up off the ground, and Quinton knew she was finished. Her body writhed and struggled as he lifted her up, legs falling and spine bending as the great ursine took another great gulp of his still-living prey. It’s hideous head kept expanding, nauseating and gruesome, poor Jessica certainly knowing that she was being eaten alive, knowing that she was unable to stop it, and knowing that Quinton was unable to stop it.
A failure.
The ursine remained on its hind legs, rearing its head back and turning Jessica upside-down, her arms locked at her sides as it gobbled her down, bite by bite, Jessica flailing and kicking all the while. She finally went down to the waist, only her jean-clad legs rebelling against that impossibly expanding jaw taking her in. Her calves were soon all that was left as her lovely self was committed to the grave of its belly, and soon enough her last, rolling, booted foot went down and disappeared.
The ursine called out the battle cry of its success, then dropped back down to all fours and grinned at Quinton, licking its lips.
