RockMeTonight

by Lisa Carlisle

  Naked and alone, guess who I pictured? His hands running up my leg. Slowly from my ankle, up past my knee. And then up over my thigh, finding their way to my inner thigh. Stopping there to circle the soft flesh. So sensitive that the slightest touch almost made them quiver.

  Moving up my body, he planted himself above me. My body ached with need for him deep within me. But when he leaned in to kiss me, sensation shot up to my lips. He kissed so light and slow at first it was almost tortuous. I pressed my lips harder against his, wanting more. Although he tried to resist my growing hunger for more, he relented, putting one hand behind my head to pull me closer while he penetrated my mouth with his exquisite tongue. He kissed me deeper now and my need for him increased even more. I wanted more from him. I needed more.

  Opening my eyes, I scanned the surroundings trying to reorient myself. Oh yeah, I was still in the sauna. Was I this hot from the heat or from my fantasy?

  I should have taken a cold shower to cool off, but instead I turned the water on as hot as I could stand it and savored the heat descending over my body. Again, when I closed my eyes, my fantasies took over. I ran one hand down over my breast, envisioning Leggy’s intense hazel eyes watching me, that seductive combination of brown and green that reminded me of the colors of the forests in the White Mountains. It should be his hand. I ran my hand further down my torso, down over my belly.

  He should be the one touching me right now. And then I was there, right there.

  No! You can’t do this here. You’re in public. You’re at your gym.

  I turned the water to a cooler setting and rinsed off quickly.

  Back in my apartment, I paced and argued with myself.

  You don’t want to chase him too strongly. Think of all the tail he already has pursuing him.

  But what do you care? You’re not looking for a relationship. It’s not like you can be in a relationship anyway. You’re a strong, independent female with an active, healthy sex drive. You’ve had lovers before. If you want him as a lover, take control and do it!

  On and on it went. Arguing with myself over a guy. Then I thought, Fuck it. Stop thinking and take action.

  Sitting down at my laptop, I composed an email with Cara in the subject line.

  If you wanted to pique my curiosity, you’ve succeeded. So what is it?

  By the way, you’re right. I can’t put this book down. It’s making me thoroughly unproductive. Thanks a lot.

  Lily

  I stared at the computer screen for several minutes as if he’d reply instantly. Regaining a grip on reality, I called Ally to see if we could meet up for a late lunch. Maybe she wouldn’t work out today, but she’d definitely pig out on her rest day, as if she needed any excuse.

  Forget lunch. I was dropping my health-conscious eating habits I tried to follow during the week. We’d go out for coffee and sweet treats to splurge on. I knew a cafe that had the most decadent desserts and the biggest cookies in town.

  And maybe it would get my mind of Leggy for a while.

  Leggy

  I was reading Milan Kundera’s The Unbearable Lightness of Being on my deck. It was the third time I’d read it and I had a notebook on hand to scrawl some notes in case there was something I could allude to in one of my songs. Deep in thought, I was surprised by the vibration from my smartphone notifying me I had a message. An email from Ligeia Everett, subject line: Cara.

  Lily. I opened it right away to read it.

  Yes! Had I actually pierced through the protective veneer; she did have some sort of interest in me.

  Step one: get her interested in you.

  Accomplished.

  Now it was time for step two.

  Shit. I hadn’t thought I’d even get past step one. So now what should I do next?

  I’d think about it during a run. I planned to run six miles this morning, going around the lake. Running always seemed to clear my mind of all the clutter of work, the band and so on. Perhaps I’d get some insight on how to get this beautiful woman to go out on a date with me—without having it blow up in my face.

  It was a brisk New England day with an even cooler chill along the lake. A little coolness wouldn’t deter me though, that’s what underlayers were for. After I ran half a mile, I warmed up and the cool air was almost welcome.

  Ligeia, Ligeia, Ligeia.

  Lily.

  Hmm. Something about her that night at that club Vamps told me she was different, she had more hiding under her pretty surface. She’d been haunting my thoughts since then, but I thought I’d have to forget her. For one thing, I didn’t even know her name so there was zero chance that I’d ever be able to find her. I went back to the club the following weekend hoping to see her there, but it was no use. She had only been out celebrating with her friend so it was doubtful I’d ever see her there again. However, I had to give it a shot.

  After a couple of weeks, I knew it was time to give it a rest. She didn’t seem like the type into rock so our paths would never cross. So when I saw her at the bookstore in Salem, I thought it must only be in my imagination. I never dreamed we’d run into each other in everyday life. I had to go up to her and see if it was really her. She was wearing jeans and a soft pink sweater with her coat thrown over her arm and she had glasses on, but something about the way she moved signaled it was her. As I approached, I found out not only was it her, but she looked even sexier in casual clothes than she did in that hot little plaid dress.

  But then, I did have a thing for the librarian look. Prim and proper in the library and a wild tigress in the bedroom.

  When I left the bookstore with not only her number, but also a hard-on, there was no way Ligeia Everett would be out of my thoughts anytime soon. First I had to tell her my real name. However, I wanted to do it somehow clever. Get her interested. Lead to the next step.

  As I brainstormed different ideas as I ran, I shot them all down. Stupid.

  Forget it. For someone who spent his free time writing creative song lyrics, a simple email asking a woman out incapacitated me. Might as well forget any clever game to play and just be straight about it.

  After I finished my run, I replied.

  Great to hear from you, Lily.

  I’m very pleased to have been the cause of your unproductiveness. Something tells me you work too much. Am I right?

  I took a gamble introducing you to the book. People either love it or hate it.

  How about we discuss it over dinner tomorrow night?

  Leggy Bones

  AKA Nico Bedrosian

  Then I took a long, cool shower to cool off and calm my raging desire to see her.

  Chapter Three

  Lily

  When I read Leggy’s email asking me out, I wanted to respond right away with a resounding YES! How long had I been thinking about this guy? It was about time we spent a little time together. But tomorrow night was a full moon and I wanted to get up to the White Mountains in time. Plus with the snow expected to fall, I had to allow extra time.

  Reluctantly I wrote back, “I have to go out of town for work. How about next weekend?”

  When my phone rang an hour later with a number I didn’t recognize, I hoped it was Leggy—no, his real name was Nico—and not some telemarketer trying to sell me something. Nico, what a sexy name. One that rolled off my tongue.

  “How many weeks has it been since we first met, my sexy little bookworm? And you’re keeping me waiting even longer?”

  I giggled despite myself, thinking how uncharacteristic that was since I played the grown-up, professional businesswoman at work. In fact I didn’t recognize this flirtatious side of me. “Now that’s something no man has ever called me before. One more week won’t kill you. Heightens the anticipation.”

  “You don’t have to worry about that. Any higher and I might explode.”

  “You may be building me up too much, I’m afraid I’ll disappoint you.”

  He laughed. “Impossible. So where are you off to?”

  How muc
h should I tell him? “I have a client in the White Mountains.”

  “That’s only a couple of hours away. Why would you leave on Sunday?”

  “Uh—we have some—work to do. Early Monday morning. Plus you never know what will happen with the snow. They say an inch, you get six. And people drive like idiots. I figured I’d get there early so I don’t have to get up at the crack of dawn.”

  How did this guy get me to babble? I was typically a woman of few words and definitely not one who gave details about my personal life unless I absolutely had to.

  “Sounds like fun.”

  “Not really. But work is work.”

  “So next Saturday. How about we go to Rockport for dinner?”

  “Perfect. By the way, I like your real name. Nico Bedrosian. Much nicer than Leggy Bones. It doesn’t seem to fit with your accent though.”

  “It’s not English. My parents are Armenian and my mom liked the name Nico. And don’t bash the stage name, Li-gei-ah.”

  “Ha ha. Funny, you have an English accent, not an Armenian one.”

  “I was born in Bristol, England. Lived there until I was thirteen and then we moved here.”

  “And eventually became a famous rock ’n‘ roll star.”

  “Hardly. So what about you? Did you grow up here?”

  I hated telling people too much about my upbringing. Too many questions always set me on the defensive. “Yes,” I answered quickly, my heartbeat escalating. “Well, I have to pack. See you next week.”

  “O-kay,” Nico said, sounding puzzled. “Have a good trip.”

  It was a good two hours or so from Boston’s North Shore to New Hampshire’s White Mountains. I put on an Adele CD and sang along. As I drove north, I passed many skiers and snowboarders driving back south. I really should pick up skiing, I thought. It might make the winter more bearable around here.

  Don’t you spend enough time in the mountains?

  True. It was where I grew up, and remained my favorite place to change. Many mountains to choose from; many forests to hide in. If I wanted to drive a little farther and get away from my usual habitat, I’d go to the Green Mountains in Vermont.

  I called my mom before I lost a signal in the mountains. “I’m driving through Conway now. See you tomorrow morning, okay?”

  Since we had a client in the area, I’d set up my meetings around the full moon when I knew I would change. That way I didn’t have to take an unexplained day off work. I could visit with clients and hit two birds with one stone. Even though my mother lived not too far away—and I didn’t need any place to sleep after I changed—I always booked a hotel room near the hiking trails. That way I’d have somewhere to change or freshen up. Moreover, I didn’t want to raise any eyebrows at work as to why I wasn’t turning in travel expenses.

  I passed signs for the ski mountains, a big draw for visitors to the area and something I’d learned to avoid. Too many people frequented those mountains year round and not just during ski season. Now that the mountain owners added all kinds of adventure activities, I had the tourists to avoid as well as the hikers and mountain bikers—and the dreaded hunters. Hunters were the most dangerous predator for someone of my nature. Luckily the White Mountains still had plenty of untouched forests to cloak someone like me. However, hunters ventured farther and farther in for small game and furbearers this time of year. If I were spotted, surely I’d be captured, if not killed, no matter what part of the hunting season it was.

  If I were killed while in animal form, would I remain that way? Or change back? Wouldn’t that be a surprise to humans? I hadn’t revealed my secret to anyone outside of my immediate family. Not even Ally, who knew me better than most people, knew my other side.

  I checked into one of the bigger hotels where I could remain somewhat anonymous, but with easy access to the mountains. I rotated between three or four so as not to establish too much of a pattern. Besides, I wanted to be near my territory. Mountain lions tend to pick an area and mark it as their own. Although I wasn’t technically a mountain lion because I spent most of my time in human form, it was one of the traits that stuck.

  Then I headed out into the mountains. With only a small bag to hide my belongings, I set up on one of the hiking paths. No point in bringing a tent or sleeping bag, which was useless once I changed.

  The mountains were beautiful with the soft blanket of snow that had just fallen. When we had feet of it, forget it, only the skiers and snowboarders were happy. With a light coat like this, maybe an inch or two that clung to the branches on the trees and gave them the magical glow of a New England winter, it was difficult for anyone not to be entranced. Of course, they didn’t have to take their clothes off in this. Luckily I withstood cold temperatures better than most people—another characteristic of my dual nature, I suppose.

  I hiked halfway up one of the mountains and veered off the trail, venturing deep into the woods. Once I thought I found a secluded spot, I listened for the sounds of any humans or animals nearby. My hearing wasn’t as acute as it would be shortly, but it was sharper than most humans’.

  I found a relatively barren patch of forest floor, flat enough for me to lie down upon when the time came. When I looked up at the darkening sky, dusk had settled in and the stars were faintly visible through the thickness of the trees. Then, through an open patch amid the treetops, I saw a translucent glow. The moon. A stirring rose in me, indicating the change would come soon. I removed my clothes as quickly as possible and stuffed them in my bag, hiding it under some nearby branches. Every inch of my skin responded with goose bumps to the cool winter night air and my nipples hardened into tight little peaks. Within a few moments, my body adjusted to the temperature and the goose bumps subsided. Still, I was reluctant to kneel, but it was necessary since I knew what was coming. It was never easy, no matter how I braced myself to prepare.

  When the change began deep within, I groaned. My insides squirmed as bones and organs reshaped. I flipped over onto my stomach, clawing at the ground through the snow in response to the agony of the conversion. I no longer felt the piercing bite of the cold snow beneath me. Instead I wanted to bite into the snow to stifle a scream. If anyone heard me, it would make a bad situation worse.

  I saw my fingernails narrow and extend into sharp points. My hands contracted and filled out, covered with a pale fur. As they converted into paws, my vision changed as well. My visibility wasn’t as clouded by the darkening sky; I saw sharp outlines of my surroundings. My body completed the transformation from woman into feline. I pushed myself up to all fours. The urge to scream came over me, but I controlled it.

  My mind was the last to make the change. I no longer thought as a human, but as the animal I’d become. I was still me enough to know better than to attack people I knew, but there was no doubt that I was now a predator. I stalked through the forest, aware of all of the familiar sights and sounds around me. And the primary thought was finding prey.

  Seeing moose or bear out here was commonplace. I gave them their space and they gave me mine. However, this time I encountered something I’d never seen out here before. A hundred feet or so away stood two mountain lions watching me. I stared back. Nobody made a move. I didn’t get the sense they wanted to harm me—or even approach. After we appraised each other for a few more moments, I turned away and dashed into the woods.

  Although humans claimed to have seen mountain lions in the White Mountains, the sightings hadn’t been confirmed. I’d certainly never seen any. I stayed deep enough in the woods to avoid humans, especially trigger-happy hunters. Now I saw proof there were mountain lions out here.

  As long as you leave me alone, we can coexist in peace. Just stay out of my territory and I’ll stay out of yours.

  I ran deeper into the forests.

  Angelo

  “She saw us,” I said.

  “Crap. I know.”

  Katrina and I had been out hunting in our animal forms, but changed back to our human ones after we saw the woman. We’d no
ticed her coming up here several times since we moved into the area. Always during a full moon. We didn’t know her name or anything about her.

  Katrina said, “I was starting to wonder if she’d be back. We haven’t seen her in a few months.”

  “Her territory is large enough that we could easily miss her. Or maybe she went somewhere else.”

  Katrina gave me a doubtful look. “Where else would she go? She clearly marked her territory here.”

  “Maybe she’s being cautious. Switching locations to avoid being detected. Remember, if you want to avoid being tracked—“

  “Vary your route,” she completed with a wag of her finger.

  “You listen well,” I said, mussing up her dirty-blonde hair.

  Katrina and I lived in a small log home in the mountains, deep enough in to avoid human contact and shift close to our home, yet get into town to buy the things we needed. We moved here from California a few years ago since the forests out there were getting too crowded for our kind. So far we’d remained undetected. After about a year, we saw another mountain lion. We didn’t think mountain lions lived out here so we suspected she might be like us—a shifter. We tracked her, staying far enough behind so she wouldn’t sense us. Sure enough, when she went to sleep we saw she had changed into a woman.

  We were not the only shifters here in the mountains.

  Katrina and I debated whether to approach her or not. One of the reasons we moved here was that the numbers of both shifters and mountain lions were growing so rapidly that it was becoming dangerous to live in California. With our increased numbers, hunting of mountain lions was being permitted in certain locations. Not good.

  We came to New Hampshire to live alone in the woods. Away from people and other shifters. But something about this woman reached out to us. She seemed so alone. Not at all sure what to do with her nature.

  Katrina brought up our discussion. “Do you think we should approach her now? I mean, she clearly saw us.” She leaned toward reaching out to the woman while I was more hesitant. Why confront someone who might not want to be found?