by Vella Munn
This was her place. He was only a visitor.
What mattered was that she wanted him here. Wanted him.
His jeans dispensed with, he started to slide his fingers under his shorts’ waistband. Shaking her head, she brushed his hands aside and pulled his last garment down. He stepped out of it, again grasped her nightshirt, and drew it over her head.
“Touch me,” she said so low he had to strain to hear her.
His heart started to hammer and his erection grew. She settled her fingers over his hips and layered more kisses on his throat. Became a woman speaking to her lover.
Somehow, they were on the bed, the cover under them, and night slipping in through the open window. He wouldn’t enter her until he’d put on protection. In the meantime, he gave his fingers the freedom to do what they craved.
Her breasts were hard, her nipples erect. She gasped or sighed every time he touched her there, which he did repeatedly, just to hear her sounds.
They kissed, stroked, kissed again. Touched. Used their tongues to leave damp paths. She moved often, her muscles jerking as she pressed her naked body against his.
He needed to tell her he was losing his mind. Was grateful for the vow of silence.
After too long and yet too soon, she pulled away long enough to fish the foil wrapper out of his jeans pocket and hand it to him. His fingers fumbled the task so she finished and cradled him in her hands.
He was lost. Found. Wondered if the same thing was happening to her.
“Now.” She dug her fingers into his sides.
“Now,” he repeated, when he was in position.
She reared up and pressed her breasts against his chest. When she fell back, he collected himself enough to fill his lungs with the scent of trees and roses. Found her core. Filled it with his bulk. Started thrusting.
Mia’s fingers burned as she dug into Jeff’s shoulders. She’d been getting chilled when she was in the bedroom earlier but their joined bodies were creating enough heat to see her through the night.
It was happening. She and Jeff Julian were becoming lovers. There was no going back.
Fine. Good. Wonderful.
I need this. Need you. Want only tonight.
She wrapped her legs around his, closed her eyes, and slipped into a place ruled by sensation. She’d been sleeping alone for months, but was usually so busy she paid scant attention to the longing between her legs. The nights of neglect reached out and claimed her. Held her as tightly as she held onto the man who was making love to her.
The bed groaned under them, as if announcing the strength of his thrusts and the energy she was expending. She only occasionally remembered to breathe, only briefly grasped an existence beyond need. She would ride with him, dig her fingertips into his flesh, nibble his shoulder, shake her head, press her body against his.
Be alive.
Her muscles collected and became one. Head now back and eyes still closed, she gave herself over to the rushing explosion. She cried out. Held on. Surrendered to her long, hard climax.
So fast.
So powerful.
“My god,” she whispered. Her temples pulsed. “My god.”
He locked his elbows and lifted himself over her. She opened her eyes in time to see his features contort. Then he pushed into her and came. A second climax seized her.
* * * *
“I’m not going to talk about what happened,” she told Jeff when she could speak.
“Neither am I.” He yawned. “I need to leave.”
She waited for him to get out of bed. Instead, he yawned again and rolled off her. His hand splayed over her belly.
“We were fast,” he muttered. “Next time…”
Was there going to be a next time? Right now, she couldn’t think for the lethargy that had left her without the strength to move. She was falling asleep, and his breathing was lengthening out.
“I hope you don’t see the grays,” she told him with the last of her ability to think. “That they’re smart enough to stay out of sight.”
“I know how you feel.”
“Then—”
“Don’t finish. I have to do my job.”
“Do you?”
* * * *
The sound of Zero’s chain as his dog tested it woke Ram from an uneasy sleep.
“Get back here,” he ordered his female hound. “You’re more trouble than you’re worth.”
Instead of settling down, the young animal whined and dug at the ground. Ram had used a screw-down tie to make sure she couldn’t get away. He’d brought her along because she was in heat. Any male canine within a mile and more would show up. What he hadn’t counted on was how restless the bitch would be.
He crawled out of his sleeping bag, put on his headlamp, and walked in his socks to where she was. He grabbed the chain, pulled her closer to the tie-down and re-secured the chain so she had less room to move. She whined again.
“Do you smell them?” he asked. “Are they out there?”
Of course Zero didn’t answer. He’d found her at the pound not long after he’d broken up with Mia. Back then, Zero had been a slipper-destroying puppy, but he’d been convinced she could be taught to track better than the last two dogs he’d had. He still hoped she’d get with the program once he spent more time with her, but other things had taken priority.
Things like trying to get over Mia. He’d scored in bed after the breakup, just not as often as he’d told his friends he had. Mia remained the standard he judged other women by. So far, he hadn’t found any with her guts, determination and independence.
That was what sucked. All the time he’d spent trying to get Mia to realize she needed him, and it turned out that her lack of need was what he’d been after.
Mia wouldn’t be afraid to spend the night on Dark Mountain. Even knowing dogs capable of maiming a man or worse were out there wouldn’t have sent her running. Hell, she’d probably argue they should be allowed to live. She was crazy that way.
Zero yipped.
“Relax. I’m not going to let you get knocked up.” He took hold of Zero’s collar and pulled her around so she was facing him, then held her head so she had to look at him. “I know you’re doing what nature intended, but you’re driving me crazy. Stop it or I’ll make you regret it.”
“What’s going on with her?” Lyle asked. “Do you think she can smell the grays?”
“How do I know? Maybe she’s just nuts.”
Instead of debating Zero’s worth, he aimed his headlamp in the direction the questions had come from. Lyle was sitting up with his sleeping bag around his waist. Even with the glare, he could see the white in the young man’s eyes. Lyle hadn’t wanted to come here, not that Ram blamed him. However, as Lyle’s old man had repeatedly pointed out, Lyle was the only one who knew where Kendall had been attacked.
Instead of going directly there, the group had decided to spend the night near the logging road with Grover Brown’s Jeep within sight. Not only, they’d told themselves, would the grays be reluctant to get close to a vehicle, there was no point in getting to their destination in the dark. Morning was soon enough for trying to follow the dog tracks they were sure to find.
What Ram hadn’t counted on was how horny Zero would be. Or how hard it would be not to think about what had happened to Kendall.
“What about it?” he asked Zero. “Are those bastards nearby?”
“Don’t say that,” Lyle’s dad snapped. “That’s the last thing my boy needs to hear.”
Ram had never doubted how deeply Parker Taft loved his only son. Parker had been horrified by his nephew’s injuries, but was obviously relieved his son wasn’t the one fighting for his life. Parker was here, not so much because he was after revenge. Rather there was no way he’d let Lyle return to Dark Mountain without him.
“I’m thinking it, Dad,” Lyle said. “Ram not saying anything doesn’t change—”
“I thought you were asleep,” Parker interrupted.
“Yeah, righ
t.” Lyle laughed nervously. “I wish it was morning.”
“You aren’t the only one,” Grover said. “Time to get things done.”
Grover had rolled out his sleeping bag on the opposite side of a boulder from where the Tafts were set up. The final member of the party was Ram’s sometimes hunting partner, Clark Walters. It was Clark who’d hooked Ram up with the last two groups of hunters he’d guided into the woods. That wasn’t the first time Clark, who worked at a sporting goods store in Brookings, had steered customers to Ram. In exchange, Ram gave Clark a kickback.
Both Grover and Clark were as good as Ram figured you could get, for a job like the one they were on. Not only were they lifelong residents of the southern Oregon coast, they were relatively physically fit. They’d come to the hospital the moment they’d heard about Kendall. It might have been Grover who’d first insisted the canine attackers needed to be killed, but then Grover had a hair trigger temper, especially if he’d been drinking, which he’d done some of tonight.
Grover had two ex-wives and three teenage kids. Ram didn’t particularly like hunting with him, because Grover hated getting skunked. A missed shot was never his fault. That mindset spilled over to his exes. They hadn’t known when they’d had a good thing. As for his children—Grover didn’t often talk about them, but he carried their pictures in his wallet. Ram thought Grover would probably wind up a lonely old man. He sometimes had the same thought about himself.
Clark seldom got excited, so when he’d slammed his fist into a hospital wall, Ram had taken notice. Between Grover’s diminished thinking when he had booze in him and Clark’s fury, Ram had concerns about the men’s ability to do what they’d come here to accomplish. Mostly, they needed to stay sober and focused.
So did he, he reminded himself. And a big part of that focus meant no freaking out thinking the grays might be watching them.
No easy task.
“First light,” he reminded Grover, who he couldn’t see for the boulder, “Lyle’ll get us there. Then we’ll go to work.”
“Unless the dogs have moved on,” Lyle said.
They’d been through this so many times Ram was sick of it. As much hunting as they’d all done, they knew how to track. Lyle was positive four dogs had been there during the attack on his cousin, but only two had participated. The other two were puppies, which meant one of the grays was probably their bitch. Odds were even that the second adult dog was male. Intact and smelling Zero.
Wanting her.
Coming for her?
Ram swallowed, but his throat remained dry. He wanted it to be morning as much as the others did, but not just so he’d have a chance of burying his bullets in the beasts. The bogyman faded with the daylight.
He pushed down on Zero’s back, forcing her onto the ground. “Right now you need me more than I need you. Hard to get through your head, I know, but it’s important.”
After Zero settled, he stood on cold feet and headed for his sleeping bag. He closed his hand around the pistol he’d tucked in his front pocket before dealing with his dog.
No matter what happened, if anything did, he wouldn’t be caught unaware.
* * * *
His muzzle open and tongue flicking in and out, Gun followed the scent of a bitch in heat. Unfortunately, the slivered moon, countless evergreens, and ragged landscape forced the young male gray to struggle to see where he was going. He’d covered two females in his short adulthood, but none since winter. Instinct stronger than what kept him with his sister and her offspring had woken him earlier tonight. He’d shaken Smoke off when she’d tried to sink her teeth into his neck as he was leaving. She might have always taken the lead in their relationship, but she didn’t understand what heated his blood, and he didn’t know how to explain.
He wasn’t alone. Lobo, his sister’s mate, was walking nearby.
Smoke had come into heat several times since puppyhood, but she hadn’t allowed Gun or their murdered brother to mount her. After she’d repeatedly chased them off, they’d left her alone. Then Lobo had joined the trio. Gun wasn’t sure whether his sister simply accepted Lobo out of gratitude for supplying them with a constant supply of meat. Maybe she’d sensed something different about the smaller, but aggressive, creature that had broken through her determination to keep males away from her. He had no doubt Lobo had fathered the two cubs she’d given birth to, because they smelled like him.
But being Smoke’s mate didn’t mean Lobo wasn’t interested in a female in heat. As long as Lobo hunted and taught his pups how to do the same, Gun didn’t care what else the wolf-dog did.
The scent of a female canine in need of servicing became stronger. He needed to mount her and spill his sperm. Nothing else mattered. Not even the stench of humans. So far the source had been silent. The drive for revenge didn’t factor in, which meant he could be himself.
Thinking to let the female know he was coming, he howled. The sound spread outward. He imagined it reaching her. She would turn so her rear was aimed in his direction and move her tail to the side. She’d widen her stance. Her heart rate would increase and she’d start panting.
Gun again filled his lungs. However, before he could let howl again, Lobo slammed into him. Gray and wolf-dog tumbled to the ground. Lobo clamped his jaws around Gun’s muzzle.
“Silence,” Lobo warned. “The enemy is out there. Humans. Dangerous.”
Even as his blood pulsed, Gun forced himself not to try to break free because he was learning that Lobo understood danger in ways Smoke and he didn’t.
* * * *
“What the hell was that?” Lyle demanded. “Ah shit. I heard—”
“Be quiet,” his father snapped. “Ram, you got hold of that dog?”
“She isn’t going anywhere. Listen.”
Ram’s heart was making too much noise, but damn it, he had heard a dog howl. Zero had scrambled to her feet and was pulling on the chain. He let her whine and complain. What he couldn’t understand was why whatever dog was out there wasn’t continuing to announce his presence. Male dogs on the scent of a bitch in heat were as stupid as stupid went.
Why had the unseen cur fallen silent?
Where was it?
* * * *
Water.
Everywhere.
So cold she couldn’t breathe.
Seeping through her clothes and turning her skin to ice.
Screaming.
Hearing someone else cry out, a desperate and demanding sound.
Needing her.
Helpless.
“Mia. Mia, it’s all right.”
Despite the words, the too-familiar nightmare clung to Mia. It didn’t matter how many times she’d struggled to find her way out of the horrid dream, it never got easier. Stifling a moan, she tried to push the images aside. Something warm and strong circled her wrists.
“You’re all right. Don’t let it— Come on, wake up.”
Jeff Julian. Despite the fragments still in her mind, she realized he was talking to her. Much as she wanted to snuggle against him, she held herself in place until she was fully awake. She wasn’t sure what she’d said, just that she was so weary of having to deal with the damned nightmare.
“Let me go. I’m all right.”
“That’s my line, not yours.” He kissed her forehead and released her. “Tell me about it.”
He was asking if she felt like sharing with him. Hopefully, he understood how hard honesty could be. How vulnerable she’d feel.
“I’m drowning,” she said in the dark. She rolled onto her back and tried to locate the window at the far end of the room but found only night. Maybe it was better this way. “I’m always drowning. The water’s icy.”
“Always? What happens?”
Keep going. Try to find your way to the other side. “Nothing really. A series of still frames. Eventually, I wake up but before I— The person in the lake stops being me and becomes my uncle.”
“A lake? It sounds as if you’re reliving what happened to your un
cle, which is understandable. Did you see him drown?”
“Yes,” she admitted, despite her desire to keep the memory locked away. “I was there, standing on the shore.”
“No wonder you haven’t gotten over it. I take it you couldn’t get to him. Do you feel guilty?”
It would be so easy to shrug him off, at least it would until she had to face herself in the mirror. Would she have welcomed Jeff into her bed if she’d known this was going to happen? No matter. In many respects Jeff had experienced what she had.
“Yes, I do.”
“I’m sorry.”
Sorry. What was she going to do with the word? “That’s how I’ve felt ever since it happened.”
“I know what that’s like.”
Of course he did. No matter that his wife’s death had happened when he wasn’t there, he’d probably always blame himself.
“We both have—problems.” Her attempt at a chuckle sounded hollow.
He propped himself up on his elbow and stared at her. “Try talking. I don’t want to let this go.”
“It might change how you feel about me.”
“You didn’t order me out of the house when I told you my story.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“You’re human, like everyone.”
“That doesn’t make it any easier. So you were on shore. Didn’t you have anything you could throw to him? I’m guessing you were afraid he’d pull you down with him if you tried to go after him.”
She was making him work too hard when the effort in the wake of what he’d confessed should be hers. “It was early winter. The lake had recently iced over. It was my job to go out on it and chop down to the water.”
“How many feet was that?”
“There was no way of being sure in advance. It hadn’t been dropping below freezing for long. I wanted nothing to do with leaving the shore. I told my uncle I’d go around to one of the creeks that fed the lake. Hopefully water was still running there. We argued, with him pointing out that I’d have to take the snowmobile, which meant using gas we couldn’t afford. He insisted that because I weighed less than he did, I needed to get out there.”
