by Mary Quast
“But I’m so hot.”
Turning off the tap, he quickly dried her and wrapped a towel around his waist then picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. She protested when he set her on the bed and backed away to the other room, but squealed with delight when he returned with the flavored syrups, ice cream, and two spoons.
“It’s time for dessert.” He crawled toward her, pushing her flat on the mattress. “I’m going to make you into a hot fudge sundae and devour you.”
“I scream, you scream,” she sang. “We all scream for ice cream.”
“Ikwe, you’ll scream for me.”
Giggling, she said, “Promises, promises.” Just to tease, he held a spoonful of vanilla ice cream over her chest then ate it with a smile. When she propped up on her elbows, he dropped a small, icy dollop on each breast. Squirming, she cried out.
“Hold still. I don’t want to waste any of this.” He squirted syrup from the bottles over her breasts and down to her pussy. Holding her hands over her head, he attacked the thawing treat. “Mmmm…tastes so good.”
He dragged his tongue over a perfect breast, circled the hard nipple, and tugged with his teeth. Using his weight, he continued to hold her in place while he tortured her with his ministrations. Chocolate, caramel, and vanilla were his favorite flavors, and mixed with her delicious scent, they gave him a raging hard-on. He poured more on her skin.
While licking sweetness off her thighs, he spread them. She opened readily, exposing her own cream. He nuzzled the pink lips then dragged his teeth over them. Writhing under him, she gripped his hair and cried for more.
“Please…. I need….”
“I can’t resist a woman in need.” With languid strokes, he swept his tongue between her folds. “I love the way you taste.”
He lapped at the wonderful blend of syrups and her. Hearing a soft sigh, he glanced up. Her eyes were closed as she cupped her breasts, pinching the nipples, and began to rotate her hips. Returning to his dessert, he thrust his fingers into her and, moaning her delight, she rocked against his face. He lifted her ass and delved deep inside her with his tongue to drink greedily from her until she stiffened and shudders overtook her.
Before Amanda recovered, he rolled on a condom. Kneeling between her legs, he drove ruthlessly into her. She met his thrusts and wrapped her legs around him, allowing deeper penetration. Feverishly kissing her mouth and neck, he stretched her arms over her head and anchored her hands. She squirmed and cried out his name with carnal joy while her spasms pulsated around his cock. The power of his orgasm vibrated into his soul.
Still damp from the shower, and sticky from the syrup, his heated skin cooled and turned prickly. Spent of energy, he released her and fell to his side. On weak legs, he took care of the spent condom and retrieved a warm washcloth. At a leisurely pace, he cleaned some of the sugary stickiness off her skin while she lay still, eyes closed, and purred with contentment. Finished, he rose from the bed to return the used cloth to the sink and put away the melting ice cream.
He entered the bedroom, and she watched him with dark eyes. As much as he wanted her again, he needed a break from their sexual marathon. Music from the other room wafted in, reminding him of the pizza and wine they’d left. A rumble in his stomach prompted the idea to go for a bite and some more dancing.
“Come on, sweet thing.” He pulled her off the bed. “Let’s rinse off then relax for a while.”
“Don’t tell me you’re worn out.”
“Hell, no.” A hard tug brought her against his chest. “The night is still young, and I think our fire is going out.”
“The flames may shrink, but the fire isn’t dead.” She pushed away and padded to the bathroom.
Damn! What a woman! Blood instantly headed for his lower extremities. Again.
Chapter Four
The ease with which she’d bared her body to Dyami surprised her. That strange familiarity had caused her to drop all inhibitions and enjoy the night. He’d pushed all the right buttons, including ones she didn’t know she had.
Yet the idea of the single evening not being enough troubled her. She’d hoped the experience would help her move forward from past memories. Nothing could be worse than unrequited love, except becoming obsessive about it.
The time had come to put childhood dreams aside and focus on the present, which, at the moment, happened to be a gorgeous man who looked nothing like the scrawny boy of her childhood. Knowing he stood behind her, she casually bent to turn the water faucets and prepare for the second shower in an hour.
Without a word, he stroked the globes of her ass and she enjoyed the gentle caress until the sudden crack of a slap and sharp pain startled her.
She spun around. “Hey!”
“Admit it, you liked it.” He held her wrists firmly.
“I guess.” Heat rushed to her face. “I’ve never tried anything like that. I might be game to, with the right person.”
“Am I the right person?” His voice held a dark tone. “Are you willing to try new things?”
“Are the Poconos Mountains like Vegas?” She gave him her best sultry smile. “What happens here, stays here?”
“I’m sure it does.” He placed her palms against his chest. “I know this night will remain with me forever.”
Me, too. More than I ever expected. Too afraid to say the words out loud, she simply smiled.
His heart beat thundered against her palms. He opened his mouth as if to say more, but closed it with a sigh. Leaning into him, she laid her head on his pecs, and he wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. Warmth and contentment spread through her, the intense hunger for him sated for the moment.
She shifted, and her skin tugged from the sticky residue left over from dessert. Moving aside to test the water, she turned the shower on then stepped into the tub.
He didn’t follow, and she felt his gaze on her backside. Instead of being vulnerable at the exposure, she became even more aware of her feminine sexuality. Let him look. She shivered at the thought of him staring at the curve of her spine, her round ass, and her long legs. Enjoying the attention, she glanced over her shoulder, and her breath hitched. Flawless golden skin smoothed over marvelously sculpted muscles. A soft dusting of hair on his arms, legs, and nestled around his cock enhanced his exotic appearance.
He stared at her posterior attributes until he lifted his pale eyes to lock with hers. His lips flattened, and his jaw twitched. Shadows passed over his face so fast she might have imagined them, but whatever his thoughts, his controlled demeanor quickly put them under wraps. His face softened, and a masculine smile appeared.
“Come join me, ice-cream man,” she invited. “The water will be cold before you get in.”
In a fluid motion, he slid behind her and began massaging her, lifting the heavy, wet mass of her hair aside to stroke from the base of her neck to her ass.
“You are so beautiful.” He pressed against her, caressing her butt cheeks with long, purposeful sweeps.
She squeezed her buttocks in anticipation for a spank that never came. Instead, he nibbled on her neck and lapped away the water. All his movements were tender, unhurried, and intentional. Fingers splayed, he slid his palms over her breasts and her ribcage then he gripped her hips, turned her, and rinsed away the sweet residue. Her pulse raced, and her lust rose.
When she reached out to grasp his cock, he brushed her away. After skimming over corded arms and the ridges of his abdomen, she rested on his hipbones. He cupped her face, rubbing a thumb over her lips. She heaved a sigh of pleasure. His gentle kiss melted her heart and pushed away the impatient urges, and she followed his lead to savor the moment.
The water became cold, and the kiss ended.
“I think the hot water tank is working overtime tonight.” He left the tub and shut the stream off. Chilly air surrounded her until Dyami toweled her dry and draped a warm cotton robe around her before doing the same for himself. She caught another glimpse of a large tattoo across
his shoulders.
“You have a tat.” He seemed to have gone out of his way all night to avoid having her see it. She hadn’t even been given an opportunity to admire his squeezable posterior. “I want to see all of it.”
“Later.” His eyes narrowed for a moment, then softened, as he took her hand into his large one. “What do you say we take a break to finish the pizza and wine by the fire?”
Maybe the ink had a woman’s name or covered a nasty scar. Something put him on edge about it. She’d wait for a little while then bring the subject up again.
“Sounds good. I think I’m waterlogged.” Her feet were cold, and shivers ran up her legs. “I could use some time to reheat my body.”
“That’s what I’m here for.”
His wink made her giggle.
Chapter Five
The fire crackled and shadows danced on the thick braided rug, while golden hues warmed the room, creating a cozy atmosphere in the small cabin. Soft music played on the stereo while the wind whistled outside. Dyami tossed the empty pizza box aside and stretched out next to her where she lay basking in the firelight.
Needing to constantly touch her, he focused on teasing her by running one finger up and down her arms and torso. Amanda’s robe parted to expose the swell of a soft breast, and he stroked the delicate curve. She sighed and reached out to him. Her sleeve shifted, revealing a slender wrist and a long black tattoo. He rubbed his thumb over it and admired the detailed work.
“So tell me about this.” He pressed his lips to it.
“I might if you tell me about yours.” Her voice hinted a challenge as she swept her fingertips across his hand.
Again, his spirit pushed him, accompanied by the strong sensation of familiarity. What was the creature telling him? It never responded to the touch of others, but this woman had made an impression. Even though he should have been unsettled by the new experience, Dyami enjoyed the flow of comfort and love rushing from the creature and into his heart.
“It’s an eagle feather, right?”
“It’s a long, sad story.” Somewhat tentative to tell it, she paused. “Are you sure you want to take time to hear it?”
“We have all night, and I need to recharge. You’re wearing me out, ikwe.” He placed small kisses along the inside of her arm. “Now, tell me the tale.”
He smiled and continued to toy with her, making slow, smooth circles across her chest and taking pleasure in the sight of her pale, silky skin under his rough, dark hand. Constantly petting her seemed to placate his eagle.
“It’s hard to think when you do that.” She relaxed, and her eyes grew hazy.
“I’ll be still.” He rested his palm above her heart, feeling its steady beat. “Now, speak.”
“When I was little, a Chippewa man and his wife rented the place next to our family cottage. My cousins and I played with their nieces and nephews who visited every summer. One of the boys and I became the best of friends. We did everything together.”
“Everything?” He nibbled on her fingers.
“We were too young for what you’re thinking.” Amanda sat up. “We used to spend our days swimming, exploring the wood, fishing on the dock, and watching the local eagle dive for the fish we coaxed in. At night, his uncle would teach us dances around the bonfire.”
“What great memories. I have very few of my childhood.” Dyami recalled fishing with a sweet blonde girl and a lump formed in his throat. His spirit quivered as if it recognized what she’d said. He pushed into his mind, searching memories.
“One day, he came to me and said he was leaving that night and I would never see him again. I cried because I didn’t want him to go. Even though we lived in different towns, we always had the summers together. I couldn’t imagine not seeing him.”
Her voice wavered with emotion that tugged at his heart. His spirit acted out of character and clawed at him until pain sliced his chest.
“Where did he go?” Rubbing his sternum, Dyami stood.
“I don’t know. He said he couldn’t tell me.” She touched the tattoo on her arm. “Anyhow, he gave me a real eagle feather.”
The animal within Dyami fought for release. What the hell? “Eagle feathers are only given for very special reasons.”
“That’s what he told me. He said it was his feather to give and told me to keep it forever.”
Something in her words struck a chord and a faded memory surfaced. My feather! His animal cried. Mine!
“Do you still have it?”
“I keep it in the bible I inherited from my grandmother, along with a four-leaf clover my dad gave me.” Amanda cast her eyes downward. “I actually have two feathers. A few years after my friend left, I was standing on the beach in the same spot where we’d said good-bye, when a young bald eagle came out of the sky and attacked me.”
“It attacked you?” Dyami croaked.
“The talons hit me on the back of my shoulders and knocked me to the ground. The neighbor saw what happened. I wasn’t scared, but he and his wife took me inside their cottage to look at the wound. He said something about the eagle trying to mark me, and he’d take care of the bird and make arrangements for it to be relocated until it matured.”
An eagle had tried to mark her! A surge of possessiveness surprised Dyami. He pictured the faint lines he’d spotted while he and Amanda had showered. He thought of passing his tongue over the marks and the creature sent a shock through him. Fuzzy images of flying like a bird over a lake, being drawn to his mate, the insatiable need to claim her, filled his mind.
Guilt for her pain intensified. “Were you okay?”
“A couple cuts, but nothing bad. The scars faded over time,” she murmured. “I found a feather on the sand where it happened. I used to think the eagle was my friend coming back to see me.”
“Maybe he was.”
“When I was twenty, I packed the feathers away and got this tattoo so I would always have it, maybe as a part of him, or to represent our friendship. I just wanted it with me.”
Parts of her story cleared fog from his memory. “Where did you say you met this boy?”
“We saw each other every summer at my grandmother’s cottage on Coldwater Lake.” She lifted her gaze to him. “Why?”
“That’s Chippewa land.” My home. Mine!
“Yes, it is. Have you ever been there?”
He ignored the question. “It seems to me, this boy really made an impression on you.”
She nodded. “I remember his last words; I’ll never forget them. He said something in Chippewa and kissed me. It was my first kiss, and magical.” She touched her lips. “After he left, I realized how much I loved him. He used to call me niwiiw and I never found out what that meant. He might have been calling me a pest, for all I know.”
“It means my wife,” Dyami said in a voice so low she barely heard the words.
A tear streamed down her cheek, and she wiped it away. “I’m sorry. It still makes me sad. You probably think I’m stupid, pining for a boy from long ago, who I’ll never see.”
He wanted to erase the sadness and comfort her, but he couldn’t move, all his strength spent containing the frantic animal inside. More memories flooded his mind of his first love, a lovely girl who’d stolen his heart and left an emptiness he’d never filled. Could it be possible?
Yes! Yes! Mine!
“Amanda, did you specifically request a 1Night Stand date with a Native American?” Every muscle in his body became rigid, waiting for her reply.
“Yes. I thought having one night with a Native American, preferably a Chippewa who fit his description, would help me forget him and move on with my life.”
“I don’t look like him, do I?” Dyami’s voice barely made it out of his throat.
“No, you don’t. But there is something so familiar about you. I feel like we’ve known each other for a long time.”
“I feel that way, too.” After a heavy moment of silence, he took a step toward her. “Tell me something. What did he say
to you, the day he left?”
She didn’t answer the question, only tilted her head with concern. “Are you all right? You look pale, like you’ve seen a ghost. I’ve ruined our date. I’m so sorry.”
He didn’t intend to growl the demand but couldn’t help it. “Just tell me what he said.”
“Gi zah gin.” Her chest heaved with a deep breath. “He said it several times and made me repeat it so I would remember it forever. He never told me what it meant.” Sadness and frustration filled her words.
His heart shattered then the pieces slowly reassembled. It’s her! His bird screamed to tell her the truth. Claim her! But fear of rejection hovered.
“I never learned his real name.” Amanda put her head in her hands. “His uncle would never tell me, and then he moved away. I only knew him as—”
“Little Otter. The nickname came from spending too much time swimming instead of fishing.”
She snapped her head up at his explanation.
“I love you,” he added.
She frowned and shook her head, trying to focus on him with tear-filled eyes
“That’s what it means.” He smiled and approached her at a snail’s pace. “Gi zah gin. I love you, Mandy Pandy.”
“Oh, my God!” She held a trembling hand to her mouth. “Little Otter! Is it really you?”
“I haven’t been called that name in years,” he admitted. “Dyami is my real name. Only my uncle, you, and your cousins, called me Little Otter. I missed that more than you’ll ever know.”
Bending over to close the distance between them, he studied her face. He wondered why he hadn’t recognized her sooner. In a quick move, she grabbed his chin. Her thumb grazed the small scar underneath.
“I got that when I fell,” he said. “Chasing you through your grandmother’s kitchen.”
With a cry, she vaulted into his arms. He held her tightly and caressed her as she sobbed with joy. His eagle expressed its elation as well. Nonetheless, a thread of apprehension wrapped around Dyami’s thoughts and needed to be stopped before it formed into a knot.
