by Sierra Dafoe
Leaving the cleaning supplies strewn across the carpet, she flounced out of the room. “Well, at least the sofa’s clean.” Tori sighed. “And she’s right, you know.”
Lu could feel her face crumple. “I know. It’s just that…”
“Just that you invariably throw yourself at any man who shows the slightest interest. Oh, Lu.”
The black-haired beauty came and sat beside her, sliding an arm around Lu as she dropped her head onto Tori’s shoulder. “Does it really matter so much, Lu? There’s worse things in the world than not having a man, you know. I don’t.”
“I know. But I’m not like you, Tori. I’m not even like Persia.”
“Thank God,” Tori murmured.
“She doesn’t need anybody.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Lu.”
“Well, she acts like she doesn’t. And I do.” Lu’s tears spilled out afresh, hot and bitter. “I do. I’m so tired of being alone, Tor.”
“I know, baby. I know.” Tori held Luna, gently stroking her shaggy brown hair. “And you’ll find the right one someday, Lu, someone who’s real, and honest, and caring…”
“And doesn’t mind if his girlfriend turns into a wolf. Yeah. Sure.” Dejected, Lu hung her head. Tori sat, silently holding her hand.
* * *
Through a haze of sweat, Lu gazed out at the audience as her arms pistoned, laying down a hard, heavy beat on the toms.
Geno’s was packed tonight -- even more crowded than it had been the night before. The crowd seemed to blend into one loud, happy mass of humanity, dancing, laughing, flirting…
Watching from behind her drum kit, Lu felt a hopeless longing in the pit of her stomach. They made it look so easy. Yeah, okay, she knew it wasn’t really -- was love ever easy? But it was damned near impossible when you were a… a…
Furiously, Lu forced her thoughts in another direction.
Why was she always such a doormat? She knew what she was doing, watching the crowd -- she was looking for Rick, hoping he’d magically show up.
How pathetic was that? And what if he did show up -- then what? Did she really think he was going to apologize? Would she even take him back, if he did?
Well, yeah. She probably would. All she could think of was the feel of him, his big burly body moving on top of her, inside her, fucking her with an enthusiasm which Lu realized had nothing to do with her.
The truth of that hurt. But how many guys would line up to date a five-foot-ten werewolf, anyway?
Lu knew the answer to that. She scowled as she looked back at the crowd. What would it be like to be on the other side of those lights? To be normal? She couldn’t even imagine it. All her life she’d watched the women around her, the way they’d giggled and smiled and bitched, taking so many things for granted it made Lu almost sick with envy.
She’d give anything to be one of them.
Angrily, Lu crashed the cymbals, meeting Persia’s final chord as they finished the set and Tori stepped up to the microphone. Before she’d even finished thanking the audience for coming, Lu was on her feet, breaking down her kit.
“What the hell’s your hurry?” Persia hissed as Lu shoved by her, humping her stuff off the stage. Lu didn’t bother to answer.
She had everything piled on the loading dock by the time Tori pulled the van up, jumping down and opening the cargo door before it had even rolled completely to a stop. She could feel Tori watching her as she shoved her cases and stands into the van.
“Lu…”
The note of worry in Tori’s voice scraped against her already-raw nerves. “Goddammit, Tori, I’m just going for a walk, is that okay with you? I am not going to Rick’s, I am not getting in trouble, I’m just going for a walk! Okay?”
Tori raised her hands in surrender. “Okay.”
But Lu could feel Tori gazing uncertainly after her as she strode down the alley and into the night.
* * *
The moon glowed down, fat and heavy -- but not full, not yet. Lu knew the difference instinctively -- it was ingrained in every molecule of her being. That round white orb tugged at her, making her feel restless, irritable…
She paced through the streets of Portland, her long legs swinging in a ground-eating pace. Striding through the Old Port, she watched with bitter envy as a guy dragged a girl into a searing embrace, leaning in a shadowed doorway. They were so absorbed in their kiss they didn’t even notice her as she passed by.
Damn it! Was it too much to ask for? Too much to want? Just a little affection, a little human contact…
Except you’re not human, Lu.
Shoving her fists into the pockets of her overalls, Lu hurried on.
She liked Portland actually. It was small enough to feel cozy, large enough to slide under the radar. And sliding under the radar was what the three of them did best -- they’d turned it into an art over the years.
Tucson, Atlanta, Oklahoma City… That’d been dire, ten months of nothing but Loretta and Patsy and Wynonna -- but it had paid the bills. Still, Lu had been almost grateful when Persia had -- like a goddamn fluffhead -- shifted right in front of the city fire marshal. Twenty minutes later they’d had their gear stored and been on their way to Portland, Maine.
She found herself walking through a quiet residential area, the kind of neighborhood that had tricycles parked neatly beside wide front porches, and special mailboxes for the Sunday paper. Lights were on here and there, and Lu peered into them as she passed. Here, a woman in a terrycloth robe lifted her crying child from its crib and held it close, stroking its downy hair. There, an old man, sleepless, sat in front of a television with a cat curled on his lap. His gnarled old hands stroked it gently, and straining her ears, Lu could hear the cat’s purr. In another, two young lovers sprawled on a couch, locked in a kiss that curled Lu’s toes, watching.
Just life. Just ordinary, everyday, human life.
And everything she was never going to have.
Lu stood, feeling the anguish inside her tighten like a band around her chest. She wanted to break something, to swear aloud, to run wildly through the night, outpacing the longing in her breast…
Then her ears caught the soft strum of a guitar somewhere nearby.
It was coming from a big old brick Victorian just ahead of her. Peering around the side of the building, she could see a narrow alley between the house and the property fence choked with bushes -- and the warm spill of light from a window halfway down the side.
Whoever it was, they were good. Really good. Intrigued, Lu stepped toward the alley -- and a cat exploded from beneath the bushes, startling her. She staggered back as the cat raced across the yard, paused at the curb to hiss indignantly at Lu, and streaked off, yowling, into the darkness.
Luna sighed. She never could fool cats.
What was she doing here? Wandering around the city, peering into homes that weren’t hers and never would be. She should just go back to her apartment and forget it.
But something about that deft, intricate tune drew her. And throwing scruples aside, Lu crept between the overgrown rhododendrons, cursing silently at each snapping twig.
Finally, half crouched in the bushes, she raised her head cautiously -- and froze, as suddenly and completely as if turned to stone.
Chapter Three
Jesus!
Lu stared, swallowing convulsively, forgetting for a moment where she was or how she’d got there. Just inside the window she could see a small, sparsely furnished apartment -- a folding table, a stack of milk crates holding books and amplifier cords, a narrow bed…
And, sitting on it, the most gorgeous man she had ever seen.
Dressed in nothing but a faded pair of jeans, he sat, his long, agile fingers moving over the neck of a guitar. The music spilling from it was as entrancing as he was; a haunting, complex melody that sounded vaguely Irish. He looked Irish too, with that mass of unruly black curls almost brushing his shoulders, and the sort of creamy-pale skin that only Irishmen seemed to h
ave. A medallion dangled from a short thong about his neck, glinting in the light as he paused and leaned forward, jotting something in the spiral-bound notebook that lay open next to him on the bed. Then he went back to strumming the guitar.
Lu swallowed as she watched the tendons flex and release in his powerful forearms. They were dusted with a fine, silky black hair, and there were freckles sprinkled across his shoulders. He wasn’t as massive as Rick had been, not by a long shot -- Rick had been built like the proverbial brick shithouse. This man was lean, lean and rangy, with broad, sturdy shoulders and tight, bulging biceps.
He was singing softly to himself, but even so Lu could hear the way his voice rumbled in his throat, deep and warm -- and God, was it sexy. Her nipples hardened under the bib of her overalls just listening to him. He plucked a last chord from the guitar and fell silent, letting his hand dangle idly over the strings as he sat, staring intently at nothing, his black hair tumbling around his quiet face.
Then, with a sigh he put the guitar aside and stood. Outside, in the shadows, Lu sucked in an involuntary breath.
Whoever he was, he was built like a young god. His body tapered, all lean, hard muscle, from those broad shoulders to a deliciously narrow waist. Everything about him seemed carved of marble; the pronounced curve of his collarbones, the expanse of his chest, his tight, rippled abdomen with that enticing dip of navel. She could see the sensuous swell of muscle along his hipbone just above the faded denim of his jeans. And the same silky hair that dusted his forearms trickled in a black, beguiling line down the plane of his stomach.
Lu was suddenly aware of the dampness in her crotch, the hot, hungry thud of desire in her groin. God! How she wanted to trace that line of hair with one finger, follow its softness down to the hardness below…
Placing the guitar carefully in its stand, the man crossed to the window, and Lu slunk back further into the bushes. He stood, leaning against the frame as he stared out at the darkness.
He couldn’t see her, could he? He certainly didn’t appear to. There was a heaviness about him, a brooding quality that made her wonder what he was thinking. Who was he, anyway? The room was so bare it hardly even looked like he lived there. There wasn’t even so much as a poster on the walls.
Yeah, now there’s a sign of stability, Lu. Christ! You really are attracted to losers.
But he didn’t look like a loser. His face, shadowed softly by the light behind him, seemed both gentle and resolute. High, heavy cheekbones gave his face a look of determination, while his full, curved lips were expressively sensual. And his eyes… His eyes…
Lu pulled her thoughts back together with an effort. Blue. They were blue. A rich, deep cobalt, so dark it seemed almost black. Like an ocean, she thought distractedly, like deep, open ocean…
What would it be like to have them looking at her? Lu gulped at the thought, almost grateful they weren’t. He was looking out absently, his gaze turned inward, his thoughts appearing to be miles and miles away.
Then he ran a hand across his chest, brushing lightly at his nipples. Lu swallowed, feeling the warmth in her crotch flare upward. Slowly, he stroked his hand down the flat of his stomach. Lu watched, entranced, as his fingers trailed along that trickle of dark hair leading down from his belly button, and slid, with his palm flat against his belly, into his jeans.
Oh, Christ.
He wasn’t really going to… to do that in front of her, was he? She shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t be seeing this. It was wrong. It was spying. It was…
God, it was arousing!
She’d close her eyes, that’s all. She just wouldn’t watch -- no way was she going to watch as his strong, agile fingers unbuttoned his jeans, or as he slid the zipper downward, uncovering the hard, shiny curve of his glans. Nope, she wasn’t going to watch as he revealed his cock inch by sweet, delectable inch -- she was so close she could see the hot, heavy pulse of the veins lacing its thickness.
And she definitely wasn’t going to watch as he slid his hand lower, cupping his balls.
They were full and hard, their curved, heavy weight brushing against his stroking fingers. She could see the soft, dark hairs, and the way the pebbled skin tightened still further under his gentle touch. She could almost imagine the weight of them resting against her palm -- they’d be warm, she knew, warm and velvety and heavy with semen.
What would it feel like to lick them, suck them softly, roll them between her fingers as her tongue danced over the base of his shaft? Closing her eyes, she imagined herself on the far side of the glass, kneeling at his feet, tasting the sweet, salty muskiness of his balls on her tongue. She could practically hear his low groan as she took them in her mouth…
No. He really had groaned. Startled, Lu looked up -- but he hadn’t seen her. In fact, his eyes were closed now, his head tilted back, revealing the muscular column of his neck. Then he wrapped his other hand around his throbbing shaft.
Oh God.
Her cunt was so slick it was soaking right through her panties. She could feel the seam of her overalls, dragging against her swollen clit. Surreptitiously, Lu rocked her hips forward increasing the pressure, and felt a wave of hunger so deep she reeled, collapsing forward against the hard brick below his window.
Very, very cautiously, she tilted her head back and looked up.
Oh, Christ. He was looking down, right at her!
No. No, he wasn’t. It only looked that way -- in fact, he was watching his hand as it clenched his shaft, dragging the skin slowly back and forth.
Staring up from the darkness, Lu imagined he really was looking down at her, into her, those cobalt-blue eyes glowing with a deep, smoldering desire. Hell, she could fantasize, couldn’t she? Watching his fingers trail along his pulsing shaft, she longed to feel them on her aching breasts, caressing them, squeezing them…
His jaw was lax, his eyes heavy and intent as he watched himself masturbating. Slowly, teasing himself, he stroked a finger through the drop of moisture at its tip, coating his cockhead. Raising a hand to his mouth, he moistened his fingers with saliva, then ran them again over the thick, swollen glans, pinching it lightly.
Lu almost came right then.
Quivering, she held herself back, gasping as she fought the white heat throbbing in her groin. She didn’t know him -- and she was never going to know him, Lu reminded herself sternly.
But for this one night she wanted to make love with him, if only in her imagination. And this one night it was going to be perfect.
Ignoring the ache that flared deep in her groin, Lu forced herself to wait as he fondled his cockhead, running his fingers down around it so the tiny slit in the tip gaped, showing a pearly drop of precome. Lu swallowed, staring, completely entranced by his hand moving over his shaft, dragging the silken skin up and down his swollen cock. But when he lowered his other hand to his balls and squeezed them, groaning, Lu couldn’t resist undoing the side buttons of her baggy overalls and slipping her hand inside.
It was so easy to imagine that it was really happening. That she was there, kneeling at his feet, no glass between them, nothing separating them… He would look down, just as he was doing now, would wrap his hand around his throbbing shaft, caressing it, placing the very tip of it against her lips, feeding it to her slowly as his eyes went dark with need…
Tilting her head back, Lu pictured it, the way that hard, velvety head would feel pushing into her mouth, the salty taste of his come seeping from the bulging tip. Moaning, she pressed softly against her clit, feeling her peak quivering, just a hair’s breadth away.
Fighting for control, she held herself still, drinking in the sight of him, his head thrown back now, his thick coal-black curls tumbling down against his shoulders as they flexed and bunched, his hands squeezing that gorgeous cock, fondling his balls, tormenting himself. His fist dragged up and down, savaging his cock, and he groaned, the sound low and thrilling.
Oh, God, he was so close! She could see it in the way his balls tightened further, d
rawing up against the base of his cock, the skin stretched and shiny with the weight of his approaching orgasm. His hand moved faster, raking his shaft, and Lu stared, feeling saliva pool in her mouth.
Gasping, she clung to her control, feeling her blood beat in time with his thrusting fist. He was looking down again, his pupils dilated so far his eyes looked as black as his hair, his gaze fixed intently on his rock-hard shaft. His mouth moved, whispering something, and then his face clenched in ecstasy. Jets of come spurted from the gaping slit of his cock. Panting, Lu leaned forward, imagining that hot, salty fluid bursting into her mouth, across her breasts, soaking her…
God, yes! She moaned as her orgasm shook her, spearing straight through her in waves of white fire. Her cunt squeezed tight, longing to feel every inch of that long, thick cock inside her, splitting her open, driving into her again and again as she shuddered and groaned, her cries spilling from her as freely as her juices…
Oh, shit! Lu, you stupid…
Yanking her hands from her overalls, Lu clamped them over her mouth. Scrambling backward, she ducked beneath the bushes, holding herself motionless as the man peered out the window, a perplexed expression on his face. Lu barely dared breathe until at last, with a small shake of his head, he turned away.
A few moments later, the light in the window went out.
Quivering, Lu stayed crouched where she was, too terrified to move… and then realized she didn’t want to move. She didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to walk the long, solitary path back to her place.
She didn’t want to leave him.
It didn’t matter who he was. It didn’t matter that she’d never meet him. He was perfect, and beautiful -- and for a few precious minutes, he’d been hers.
Even if he didn’t know it.
She wanted him, Lu admitted. She wanted him with a fervency greater than anything she’d ever felt. She wanted to curl up on the dry leaves outside his window and stay right there, as close to him as she could get. She would give anything -- anything -- to belong to this man, to be able to touch him, kiss him…
