Wild and Free

by Vella Munn

  Calley smiled. Despite what Dean was doing to her senses, she was moved by what he’d said. “I notice you didn’t say that adults should be able to eliminate their weaknesses or try to live without vulnerability.”

  A shadow touched Dean’s face and stayed. “Admitting vulnerability is the same as admitting we’re human. No one can live totally hardened. Those who try are doomed to failure.”

  Reverently, Calley ran her hand over Dean’s cheek. Although she touched beard, she believed his skin felt the gesture as well. When she walked through the door, she’d been a little frightened, because tonight was going to be different from any other she’d spent with Dean, but now hesitancy was turning into a gentle joy. “Macho man doesn’t exist?”

  “Macho man is a lie. Any man who believes that about himself doesn’t know himself.”

  Oh, Dean, how wise you are. How wonderfully wise. “You’re very perceptive,” she whispered. Speech was becoming almost impossible. If it wasn’t for the shadow still lingering around Dean’s eyes, she wouldn’t have tried.

  “Philosophical.” He laughed, but the sound was an effort. “Fortunately, trying to be philosophical doesn’t happen to me very often. That tends to bore people. It was a nice wedding, wasn’t it? That’s the first one I’ve been to for a long time.”

  “I’m glad they could have it outside.” Calley searched her mind but came up with nothing that would continue the conversation. Instead, she leaned back against the couch and closed her eyes. They had all night together. Maybe she should be nervous; she wasn’t. She kicked off the unaccustomed high heels and wriggled her toes, sighing.

  Dean’s hand was on her knee. As he explored the silky feeling of filmy hose, Calley’s thoughts went with him. It felt so good to have him touching her, reminding her that she was indeed a woman. Maybe, she thought disjointedly, she should wear a dress more often.

  A minute later she learned that Dean was intent on removing that dress. She didn’t open her eyes or object when his hand moved from her knee to the flesh left exposed by the low-cut bodice. Calley’s mind followed the trail of his fingers across her collarbone, down the line of her bra strap, over the soft mound hinted at under the soft crepe. She acknowledged a timeless restlessness deep inside her as his fingers dipped as far as they could under her bra.

  They were going to become lovers. She’d known that since they were at the Flathead; at least she’d fantasized about the possibility. The only real question had been when.

  Tonight? It was what she wanted.

  “Dean?” The question was spoken by a voice she didn’t understand. She wasn’t sure she needed to say anything.

  Dean took a deep breath. “If you’re going to tell me no, say it now. It’s the only thing I’ve thought about since I saw you standing next to Melinda. I want you to spend the night with me.”

  How honest he was. He was right. They were adults, not children. She could tell him she wanted to spend the night, too. “I wasn’t going to say no,” she responded.

  “Then what?”

  She hadn’t known what she wanted to say. She wasn’t sure she could sort things out enough to form any words. There was fear and nervousness and anticipation and the dream of experiencing something she’d never had before, not even with Mike. But how was she going to tell Dean all those things? “Nothing,” she said with a sigh.

  “There was something. Don’t be afraid to tell me anything, Calley. I want us to always be honest with each other.” His hand was keeping her breast warm and giving her heart a reason to beat.

  Calley breathed through nostrils that no longer were capable of bringing in all the air she needed. “I want this to be good for you.”

  Dean kissed her. A long, searching kiss. “That’s what I’m supposed to say.”

  “I don’t care.” Calley couldn’t open her eyes. She wanted to concentrate on the sound of his voice, the feel of his lips, the warmth of his hand. “I—you’re a good man, Dean. I didn’t think I’d ever find anyone like you.” Was she saying too much, stripping herself naked emotionally? “I want to be what’s right for you.”

  “You are, Calley. You are.” His words came out on the end of a long breath. “When I saw you that first day I knew you were someone I’d been looking for. I want to make love to you this afternoon. I hope it’s what you want, too.”

  It is. But telling Dean that she needed to be made love to was something Calley had never done before. She didn’t know how to piece the words together or express so much of herself. “We’re doing a lot of talking.”

  “You’re right.” Dean removed his hand from the velvet pocket he’d found and pulled Calley away from the couch. He didn’t speak until he’d unzipped her dress down to the waist. “I didn’t bring you here to talk.”

  While Calley stood with her feet spread to support her quickly yielding body, he helped her step out of the filmy garment and picked it up so he could drop it on top of his jacket. The air was cool on Calley’s bare shoulders. She could concentrate on the strong, bearded face inches from hers and take strength from his lingering kiss.

  Calley pressed her body against his, unmindful of the layer of cloth still around her ribs. Soon he would unfasten the bandage and encircle her waist with his large, competent hands. Until that happened, she could sense his warmth on her breasts, feel his hardened legs tight against her softer ones.

  He fit along her length. There wasn’t a part of her that couldn’t find a home. Calley worked her fingers into Dean’s beard and held on to him, lost in wonder at all the directions a kiss could take. It might be no more than lips against lips, mouths opened, but in the greater scheme of things, this kiss was being registered on Calley’s breasts, stomach and thighs.

  She wanted him. Needed him. There was no denying, or wanting to deny, that fundamental fact.

  “In the bedroom,” Dean whispered. He lifted her in his arms and carried her through the late-afternoon shadows into the darkened room. Calley pressed herself against him, her eyes slits through which she could make out only him.

  When he put her down, Calley stood for a moment, regaining her equilibrium. Then, before he could do it for her, she lifted the slip over her head and tossed it on the foot of the bed. She trembled when his hands covered her upper arms, but that turned to a soft giggle as he searched for the end of the elastic bandage. “I don’t think this is part of the usual scenario.”

  Dean’s laugh was as relaxed as she hoped it would be. The sound stripped her of any lingering tension. “It does add a certain dimension to things, doesn’t it? There,” he said with a sigh when the bandage was removed. He touched her side. “The bruise is almost gone. You aren’t going to fall apart now that that thing’s off, are you?”

  “No, I’m not going to fall apart. However—”

  “However, what?” he asked worriedly.

  “It itches.”

  “Hmm.” Dean held her at arm’s length as he considered the ramifications of what she’d told him. “Maybe I can help.” He placed his hands over her sides and started a slow, sensual rubbing motion. “No wonder,” he went on. “The bandage was so tight that it left marks on your flesh.”

  Calley looked down but Dean’s hands were in the way, and she was unable to see that part of her body. It didn’t matter because she wasn’t interested in what she looked like. Calley’s hands had been on Dean’s shoulder; now she was exploring the mat of hair covering his chest, finding his nipples and holding them between thumb and forefinger. She dipped her head, taking hair between her teeth, pushing through the forest with her tongue until she had reached his flesh.

  Dean gripped her more firmly; his breath came quicker. He was so fast to respond. For an instant Calley panicked. What if his self-control was a tenuous thing?

  As soon as the thought surfaced, she was able to push it away. No. They had been alone in the forest for days at a time. That was all the proof she needed that he was able to exercise restraint.

  Restraint lasted until they’d
helped each other out of their clothes and were locked in each other’s arms on the bed. Calley thought she was in control, believed she could direct the ebb and flow of their lovemaking until the moment his moist tongue found her hardened nipple. The wave of desire that tore through her then was unlike any she’d ever experienced before. It wasn’t that Dean was too bold; it wasn’t that she’d been sleeping alone too long.

  It was that she wanted him so much.

  Dean’s hands and mouth and tongue found nerve endings Calley had never acknowledged before. She gloried in what he was teaching her about herself. Her own exploration of Dean’s body was bold beyond her most erotic dreams. It seemed as if she’d been waiting a lifetime to make love to this man, to let this man learn everything there was to learn about her body and its capacity to respond.

  She was willing, oh, so willing, to let him caress her in the most intimate ways possible, to enter her, to bring her to the brink of a vast chasm and, finally, to send her flying out into space.

  “Are you all right?” Dean asked when there was nothing left of her except satisfaction.

  “All right?” She didn’t want to talk. She wanted to wrap her body around him and spend the rest of her life like that.

  “Your rib?”

  “Were you worried about that? Oh, Dean, I’m not going to break.” Was there anything about him she didn’t love this afternoon?

  Dean rose up on one elbow. With his forefinger he traced a slow line from her forehead to between her breasts. He stopped with his hand resting on her stomach. “Would you tell me if you were? You don’t always have to be strong, you know.”

  “I know that, Dean,” she reassured him. She marveled at her ability to lie still with his hand intimately on her, wondered how soon she would start to respond to him again. “That’s the way I am. I’m not trying to prove anything. Honest.”

  Dean sighed, a little raggedly, it seemed to her. “I hope not. Everyone needs someone else. Don’t ever be afraid to admit that.”

  Calley wanted to drift off, but she didn’t. Dean was, she believed, trying to tell her something important. Because it wasn’t easy for him, she tried to help. “I know a great deal about needing someone,” she admitted. “Unfortunately, I didn’t get that support when I needed it.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Strangely, she did. She was able to acknowledge that making love to Dean had made her want to be emotionally close to him, but maybe there was more to what she was experiencing than simply bathing in the aftermath of lovemaking. Something involving her heart.

  She told him what no one except Mike and Melinda knew. “My parents were divorced last year. I’ve never felt so alone.”

  Dean was quiet for a long time. “What happened to Mike?”

  The question about Mike’s role in the experience came faster than she wanted, but she didn’t try to hide from what Dean was asking. “He wasn’t there when I needed him.”

  “The bastard.”

  Calley had been staring at the ceiling, wondering why she no longer felt bitter. Now she turned toward Dean. “Maybe,” she acknowledged. “But I don’t blame Mike for what he is. Not anymore.”

  “That’s magnanimous of you. I wouldn’t be so forgiving.”

  “Don’t,” Calley warned. “I don’t want to argue with you about Mike.”

  “I’m not arguing.” Dean’s hand was still on Calley’s midsection, effectively keeping her from anger. “I’m just saying that when two people are in love and one of them is in a crisis, the other has to help. It isn’t much of a relationship if that can’t be taken for granted.”

  “I know that.” Calley sighed deeply. Her voice shook a little as she went on. “That’s what I wanted. It’s what I expected from Mike. And he tried, I guess. But you know how much he hates confrontations. He was uncomfortable with the arguments between my parents. He said he hated seeing me being torn between them.”

  “To hell with his feelings. That’s not what mattered.”

  Calley rolled toward Dean. She needed more than his hand on her. She wanted to feel his body wrapped around her. She felt no sense of surprise when he pulled her close.

  “He went to the ranch with me when I first heard that my parents had separated. But he didn’t stay long. He said he had to get back to work, but I understood what was really going on inside him. He called a few times, and I called him more than I told myself I was going to, but—”

  “After a while you gave up expecting something from him, didn’t you?” Dean was gently rubbing what he could reach of her back, his body close and yet quiet, not distracting her from what had to be said.

  “After a while I guess I just didn’t care anymore,” Calley admitted. “It took all the emotional strength I had in me to try to help my parents. It was as if I didn’t exist as a separate human being anymore. I was an extension of my parents, nothing more.” Calley wondered at her ability to put her emotions into words. “I forgot what I felt for Mike, what he looked like—everything. And when I had to leave the project, it didn’t bother me that I wasn’t going to be seeing him again.”

  Dean brushed his lips across Calley’s eyelids. “I never understood why you left. The divorce took that much out of you?”

  “No.” There was no reason to be embarrassed. She could tell Dean what had happened after the divorce. “We almost lost the ranch. My folks weren’t concerned with keeping the ranch going. They—they were going through so much pain of their own. We had some unexpected losses, a hard winter, poor cattle prices. We couldn’t pay our bills.”

  “We? You had a job, other responsibilities. The ranch shouldn’t have been your problem, Calley.”

  “You don’t understand,” she moaned. “Having a ranch isn’t like any other kind of job. It’s a mistress. A master. Sweat and blood and too much love. Dean, my parents finally put their differences behind them and banded together to save the ranch. They got divorced, but they worked together until we were back in the black. That’s how much that damn land means to us.”

  “Are they still living there?” Dean asked.

  Calley laughed; there was no joy in the sound. “They split the acreage down the middle. Now Mom has a foreman to help her with her half. Dad’s new wife is working with him.”

  “And you?” Dean whispered. “Where did that leave you?”

  Again Calley laughed her bitter laugh. “Without a job. That’s why I came back to the university. But—” She sighed. “I’m stronger now. I learned I have more backbone than I’d given myself credit for.”

  Dean didn’t want to have to say a word again, but it was either that or maybe never fully understanding. “Mike wasn’t here when you returned. Did you hope he would be?”

  “No. No,” she said, softer the second time. “When I told him we might have to file for bankruptcy, Mike said that was probably the easiest way to solve things. He’ll never understand that turning our place over to a bank would be like giving up a child. Dean? I needed him to be stronger than I was then. He wasn’t, and that killed everything I felt for him.”

  Because the bastard didn’t have enough backbone. Because Mike had always taken the path of least resistance. Dean could admit that about his longtime friend without hating him, but then Dean hadn’t been the one who’d been in love with Mike. “I don’t ever want anyone to hurt you like that again,” he told her.

  “I don’t want it, either. I—I don’t need Superman,” she whispered. “But Mike taught me something. He hid from confrontations. I couldn’t accept that. I can’t understand anyone who doesn’t face everything life dishes out.”

  Dean had nothing to say.

  Chapter Nine

  “If I wanted just any joker off the street, I would have advertised in the classified section. I want you up here, Dean. This so-called conference is a thrown-together con job by a couple of hunting groups. They’ve managed to sweet-talk some legislators into coming to Anchorage for it, but if you and I don’t show up, there isn’t going
to be enough weight on the side of wildlife management.”

  Dean shifted the phone from his right ear to his left. “I didn’t say I didn’t want to come. It’s just that this is damn short notice. I wasn’t going to start thinking about Alaska for another couple of weeks.”

  “You’re telling me. Look—as I see it, it’s a long-shot gamble by the hunters, but who knows what kind of garbage they’re going to be able to plant in the heads of certain legislators if we don’t present our side of the issue.” The man at the other end of the long-distance call sighed deeply. “We haven’t seen each other since you and Waina broke up. That isn’t going to cause a problem, is it?”

  “Not if it doesn’t with you,” Dean pointed out. His friendship with Hawk had always been based on the deepest honesty. “You want me up there this weekend? How long is this shindig going to take?”

  “I wish I knew. The conference is scheduled to last only the weekend, but I’m hoping to take at least a couple of our public servants into the park. I’m going to try to convince them that they can’t make any decisions about territory they’ve never seen. If that pans out, I’d like to have you along to back me up.”

  “I don’t know about that.” Dean hesitated. “Besides, since when did you need backing up? Once you get wound up, no one can get a word in edgewise. You’ll do just fine on your own.”

  “You aren’t trying to weasel out of this, are you?” the superintendent of Mount McKinley National Park asked.

  “Don’t try to turn the screws with me, old friend. I’ll be up there. And I want to bring someone with me.”

  “Male or female?”

  Dean laughed. Hawk had never believed in sidestepping an issue whether personal or professional. “Female. She’s part of the project I’m working on here. She’s never been to Alaska, but she wants to go.”

  “And that’s the only reason you want her up here? She wouldn’t happen to be young and good-looking, would she?”

  “Why don’t you let me worry about that?” Dean pointed out. “And while we’re on the subject of women, you wouldn’t happen to have gotten married, would you? You aren’t getting any younger, you know.”