Nicole Austin

by Tamara's Spirit (lit)

  She considered herself to be well put together, and was happy with her appearance. How society thought women should look didn’t matter to her. However, when faced with becoming intimate, Tamara felt nervous about how her partner would react to her rail thin body, ribs and hip bones sticking out sharp and protruding against her skin. Her tiny breasts were no longer quite so perky due to time and gravity. She hated the insecurity which arose in these situations.

  For some reason she wasn’t worried in the least this time, which was amazing. It didn’t matter that he was someone she’d tried with desperation to attract at one time. She accepted her body the way it was, flaws and all, without much concern for how he would react to those implied imperfections.

  He pulled back after a while with a disappointed look on his handsome face. “You’re not into this, are you?”

  At this point she found herself wondering why the hell she’d lusted over him all those years ago because he was not very savvy when it came to seduction. Kissing was a skill you developed over time. Although he may not appreciate the criticism of his technique, she was going to have to teach him the art of the sensual kiss. After repositioning them with her on top, she aligned their bodies so her cunt rubbed against his erection then Tamara began showing him how to seduce her with a sultry kiss.

  Her awareness slowly shifted from the dream world, although she was not yet fully awake either. Images, lessons and insights permeated her senses, replaying through her mind. She tried to hold on to the dream, searching for the meaning, reasons and wisdom before they slipped from her grasp.

  Something told her the dream was significant to the changes she felt blooming to life within herself. Her easy acceptance of her body, seeing herself as she really was, not worrying if a partner would be turned off when seeing her naked. Add her being bold enough to instruct him how to pleasure her, and it all combined to blow her away. Maybe she was ready to accept herself the way she was, without recriminations.

  What a startling idea. She let it play through her mind, trying it on for size as she came fully awake.

  Almost as astonishing as the dream was the realization she was not lying on her bed in the cabin. Tamara sat up with dizzying quickness, surveying the area. The indirect sunlight hurt her bleary eyes. She lay on a soft layer of sweet smelling hay, covered with a thin blanket. All around her was solid rock. Next to her, a small camp fire was burning, staving off the slight chill in the early morning air.

  Damn, must have been some bender she went on last night.

  Information filtered through her weary brain at a slow rate. Okay, she was somewhere out in the wilds of the mountains, lying in what appeared to be a large stone cavern. Against one wall sat an ice chest and several plastic bins, which she assumed contained food. Set out on top of one bin were several pieces of clothing she recognized as hers.

  Fighting back the panic threatening to clog her throat, Tamara stood on shaky legs, and moved to the wide edge of the sheltered sleeping place. Stepping down a small slope, she turned in a wide circle to get a better look around.

  It took several moments for her to assimilate the information and realize she was in a vast canyon surrounded by towering rock formations. The place where she’d been sleeping looked like a large crevice or indentation in the end of the canyon wall. Only two sides of the area were open, the rest was solid rock.

  Shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand, she scanned the area. Dakota was nowhere in sight, yet she had vague memories of riding on a horse with him.

  Holy shit! The crazy ass Indian went and left me alone in the middle of the wilderness.

  Visions of all the animals she’d encounter in such a location assaulted her mind. The panic rose, tightening her chest and bringing the acidic taste of warm bile into her throat.

  “Oh. My. God,” she cried in a shrill tone. The high-pitched, trembling voice didn’t sound like hers. The reverberations bounced across the canyon walls time and time again, bringing home how alone she was.

  Struggling to remain calm, Tamara’s mind ran through a million different possibilities in a matter of microseconds. There was no way she was about to set off into the wilds by herself not even knowing what direction to take. She’d heard stories of people wandering around lost in the mountains for weeks before dying of dehydration and starvation. Not an option.

  Okay, girl. Think!

  Expecting coherent thought was really asking for a lot. She had a horrible headache, and the need to empty her bladder was turning into an ache, making it difficult to think of anything else. What the hell was she supposed to do, pee in some bushes? She didn’t delude herself into thinking there might be a bathroom somewhere near by. Damn, what she wouldn’t give for some indoor plumbing right about now.

  Looking around, Tamara spotted her boots near her makeshift bed. Something the cowboys had said about sleeping out in the wilderness filtered through her head. They had talked about finding snakes, scorpions, spiders, and other small, creepy creatures in their boots. Something about reptiles seeking out the warmth and shelter, and having to shake out their boots every morning.

  The thought of turning over her boot and something slithering out made her shiver. Gross. She would not put her foot in there if some creature had been sleeping in her boot. Yet, she had no choice. She wasn’t going to walk out into the wilderness wearing only her socks.

  Damn it. She was going to kill Dakota when she found him. Rip the bastard limb from limb then chop up the pieces so small he’d never be found. The rotten bastard would pay for dumping her like this.

  Maybe he had gone off somewhere to pee. Maybe he was even now bringing his horse and preparing to take her back to the ranch. Maybe…

  ??

  It took her forever to find a spot where she felt safe enough to drop her pants, exposing herself to all the beady little animal eyes she felt staring at her, and relieve her aching bladder. Remembering other things she’d heard the cowboys say had her shaking the bushes and making as much noise as possible. It would be just her luck to drop her drawers and squat down only to have a snake strike out and bite her ass.

  The very thought made her swing her head around in a frantic search for anything slithering in her direction. She could clearly picture the newspaper headlines. “City Girl Dies In Mountains From Venomous Bite On Bared Ass.”

  Yeah, getting bit would make her day from hell truly complete.

  Tamara remained in a state of shock for quite a while. It was difficult for her to accept he’d left her alone with all her greatest fears. The whole thing seemed surreal, leaving her feeling out of touch. This was so far from anything she knew how to deal with. And there were no distractions to keep her from thinking too much.

  Her mind worked overtime. After several hours of sitting on the bed of hay thinking, afraid to move, incredible pangs of unchecked emotion assaulted her. She wasn’t used to dealing with her feelings. During most of this time she wept with uncontrollable anguish and unbearable pain. Huge sobs were wrenched from the very depths of her soul. Drawn out of her like an infection fought off by her body’s natural immune system.

  She didn’t know what the tears and oppressive anguish were for, but they needed to be discarded. No matter how much she feared and detested the loss of control, there was nothing she could do to stop what had been set in motion. She was too far gone, her normal defenses no where to be found. Her only option was to ride out the ordeal.

  There were still no signs of Dakota. Panic really sank its wicked claws into her, tearing away her fragile grip on what was real. How the hell was she supposed to survive out here all by herself?

  It would be deathly quiet for long periods then small, furtive noises would begin all of a sudden. It freaked her out, making her pulse race and sending creepy-crawly sensations skittering over her skin. Yet the creatures stalking her never got brave enough to show themselves. For this small favor, she felt very grateful.

  Her throat felt tight, her chest heavy, and an empty sensat
ion plagued her stomach. She was tired, fatigued, bowels tied in knots, and her head pounded in a ceaseless drumming. There was no way she’d be able to eat anything, but she forced herself to drink two bottles of water she’d discovered in one of the plastic bins.

  At one of her lowest points, feeling small and helpless, Tamara stood in the middle of the canyon, threw back her head and screamed. She cursed Dakota, his ancestors, and the horse he rode in on. Then she broke down and cried again.

  So many things went through her mind since there wasn’t much else to occupy her thoughts. She remembered bits and pieces of riding on the horse with Dakota as he fingered her to orgasm. That in itself was hard for her to accept. She had not been able to get off with only manual stimulation for ages, always requiring much more. Yet last night all she’d needed was the stroke of one man’s thick fingers to send her rocketing into the most intense orgasm she’d ever experienced.

  Had it really only been last night, or was it longer? She’d lost track of time.

  For a while she felt guilty for the mess she’d made of her life. She carried so many ghosts and demons around with her, allowed the past to control her very existence for so long. She’d pushed people away, never giving more than a small piece of herself to anything or anyone. Not even to her dear friend, Savannah, who had given her everything. Well, at least she’d tried. Tamara never was very good at accepting anything she didn’t get for herself.

  Van had been happy to bring Tamara into her life, opening her home, and freely gave her friendship and love. What had she given in return? Nothing. Her inability to open herself to her friend left Tamara feeling…hollow.

  For several hours she fought to keep her anger at bay, but it was all there was to hold on to. The anger filled up the empty place and allowed her to feel alive. Anything was better than feeling vacant.

  All of this was Dakota’s doing. The bastard! If it weren’t for the damned Indian, she wouldn’t be sitting here thinking about the past and trying to face all these jumbled emotions. Yes, it was all his fault. Tamara was steadfast in her refusal to accept responsibility for any of this mess. When she got a hold of the infuriating man…watch out. Shit would hit the fan and spread out to cover everyone and everything in her way.

  It dawned on her then—she hadn’t really lived or felt anything except sexual responses since childhood. Hell, for her to even feel something during sex required she make things increasingly wild, always taking things a step further in order to keep feeling something—anything. She went through the motions of life, but never partook in its true bounty.

  Sheesh! She was starting to sound like one of those psychobabble self-help guides.

  Over the rest of the long day and night, Tamara continued to mull over the dream visions and how her life was changing. It seemed as if the visions had been the final crack in an internal dam, setting free a flood of unwanted emotions.

  She was blown away by the culmination of everything that had gradually happened. What an incredible mind trip.

  Looking over the events of her life, she found a bit of understanding within her heart. She also discovered an acceptance of whom and what she was. Hell, she was amazed to realize she was feeling comfortable in her own skin. This was something she’d never experienced before. And for once, Tamara felt free to live. So many things were changing, opening up, allowing her to breathe.

  Whenever she got back to the ranch, things were going to change. She decided it was time to let Savannah know how much their friendship meant to her. And the cowboys—they had become an important force in her life. She harbored a deep, abiding love and caring for each one of her friends. Somehow she would find a way to express the emotions waiting for an outlet.

  And Dakota. She had big plans for him.

  A niggling doubt plagued her for a short time as to whether her friends would accept these alterations in her. She’d lived a certain way for so long. Some would try to keep her in the familiar niche she’d created where they knew what to expect from her.

  By late on the second evening she’d dealt with her ghosts and faced down her demons, finding an odd feeling of contentment with a past she could not change and would no longer allow herself to remain feeling guilty over. There was no way she would alter her past even if it were possible. The past was quite simply the vehicle that had delivered her to this life affirming point, created her, brought her to love.

  In her moments of weakness, Tamara found an inner strength she’d never known existed within her. This was the most freeing experience she’d ever been through. More than anything, she wished Dakota was there to share it.

  Just look at her, sitting in the middle of the wilds unafraid. It was miraculous. And she was able to be alone for the first time. Quiet contemplation was no longer a frightening prospect.

  An overwhelming excitement filled her very being and replaced the void. She was anxious to embark on this new path. The only regret she had was for the wasted time, but it was an essential curve in the road.

  Holy Shit! Was any of this real?

  Oh, Dakota. I need you here with me. I want to share this with you so much.

  At some point she slept, then awoke to witness the most dazzling sunrise. She wandered out into the canyon unafraid. Sitting next to the small stream, Tamara took in all the sounds of nature she’d never before appreciated.

  The babbling sounds of water splashing over and against rock were unable to compete with the sharp, wild cries of winged creatures greeting the day. There was a unique hum and rhythm to the world she had never paid attention to before. Everything communicated in an almost silent harmony one had only to open their heart to hear.

  The total and complete sense of oneness, peace and belonging filled her soul, lifting Tamara up on a gentle breeze. She felt as though she free-floated among the dazzling hues of gold, amber, garnet and plum painting the morning sky. Within her body, she felt the very hum and movement of earth and sky, spirit and life.

  Chapter Seven

  Morning found Dakota squatting still as a statue knee-deep in the cold stream. The frigid water was enough to make him grit his teeth. Add to this the screams of frustration carried on the crisp breeze over the last few days, and Dakota felt the desire to rip his own hair from his scalp. He was living the hell of her journey right along with Tamara, suffering through each emotion and his nerves were shot.

  No matter how much he’d wanted to go to his princess, wrap her up in his embrace to provide reassurance and shelter, he knew those comforts wouldn’t help her. Tamara had to do this on her own. Facing down both her fears and the woman she’d become was a task she had to undertake alone.

  Each cry and scream tore at his spirit. He would have been glad to take this on for her, take the pain into himself, if only he could. The fear, desperation and tired acceptance in her voice pierced his warrior’s veneer, digging deep into his flesh.

  Although he stayed far enough away to allow her this experience, Dakota was close by to ensure her safety. There was no doubt in his mind Tamara would wage a fierce war against any foe, but he would never forgive himself if something happened to her while she was stripped bare and vulnerable, fighting her inner battles.

  Forcing himself to focus on the task at hand, he watched a wary trout hover in the crystal clear, life-sustaining waters. Each controlled, nimble movement revealed the power and strength of the determined fish, but as set as it was in its path, Dakota was equal in his determination to make the trout their dinner.

  He waited with calm patience for the cautious fish to be right where he wanted it, summoning an inner fortitude, waiting for the perfect moment. The task required the same patience he must maintain for the sake of his mate. He began easing his hand closer behind the trout, letting it grow accustomed to this foreign presence. When the moment arrived, his hand was a mere blur of motion as it shot through the water, taking hold of the trout and hanging on as it struggled in vain to obtain its freedom once more.

  He had spent time working
with Hunter, exercising the horse’s injured leg while standing in the shadows, keeping guard over her slight form. The boundless love he felt for this woman created an invisible connection, linking their spirits together. He felt every up and down she felt, and would know the moment she reached the completion of her passage.

  Even then, instead of running straight into her arms, Dakota had enough wisdom to know she’d still need time to come to grips with the new emotions. Sexual needs rode him hard, making demands Tamara would not be ready to handle. For both their good he maintained his distance, giving her one last night, until the right moment arrived. His patience had worn thin with the rising of the sun. Now there would be nothing to stop him from claiming his spirit mate.