Blame It on the Moon

by Shara Lanel

  He knocked again and probably knew she was just on the other side of the door.

  Her face also burned at the thought of everything they’d done together. The sex had been so uninhibited, so out there, and so damn good. How could she have let him order her around like that? How could she have let him touch her and suck her and watch her come? It wasn’t that she was a sexual prude, but those types of things, to her way of thinking, took intimacy and intimacy like that took time.

  “Kit, I know you’re standing on the other side of the door. Are you going to let me in?” Haden said. When she looked through the peephole again, she saw his magnified eye looking right back at her.

  She could say, “It’s really late,” and she’d have a point, but her body rebelled. Her center liquefied, her nipples came to attention, and her skin heated. The memories rolled in, and all she could think was that she wanted to do it again.

  The deadbolt turned, and the chain unhitched. Yeah, she’d done it, but she liked to pretend it was some unseen telekinetic force and not her own conscious choice. Haden rushed in, spraying water everywhere, and that was when Kitty noticed the rain. It was coming down pretty hard, she realized as she shut the door.

  Oops, maybe I shouldn’t have left him standing out there so long.

  They had spoken on a couple of occasions since the Night of Sex, as she thought of it, but she’d mostly complained. That had seemed the best way to cover any embarrassment and to keep her distance, no matter how bitchy it made her seem. But why keep her distance? Her body clearly thought that a stupid idea. She wanted to rub along him and smell him and entice him to fuck her again many, many times.

  And Haden, damn him, was running the erotic movies again, replaying their night together, particularly the scene where she sucked his cock in the bathtub. That was starting to make her really hot, but then there was the image of her huddled against the wall, crying. She sensed tenderness and confusion from his memory.

  “Sorry I’m dripping all over your carpet,” Haden said, bringing Kit back to the present and the fact that Fergie had gone into full-crouch mode. She rolled her eyes at the dog. Fat lot of good crouching and growling was going to do if the thing she’d seen in the dream came after her.

  “Mind if I take my shirt off?” the man went on. “I can hang it on the chair, and maybe it’ll dry a bit.”

  “Um.” Taking off his shirt, seeing him shirtless, that would be bad for her. That would make her brain cells evaporate, but Haden took her silence as permission. He started undoing his buttons, and what did she do? She watched him, like a fool, totally enraptured as more and more skin was revealed. All of her concerns about the freaky dream, about her embarrassing actions, fled.

  But then she wasn’t the only one who’d caused the frostiness of the past few days. Haden had seemed more cautious, more preoccupied, like he wanted to talk but wanted to avoid her at the same time.

  She cleared her throat. “So without invitation, you’re over here, stripping in my house. That’s a bit presumptuous, isn’t it?”

  His lips turned up just a bit. “I didn’t intend to strip. I intended to talk.”

  “Could’ve done that today.”

  “Too many ears and too many to-dos. I thought we should talk alone.” His eyes grew darker. “You’re not still scared of me, are you?”

  She turned away. “Should I be?” The few steps to the couch allowed her to hide her eyes from him. She was scared of the creature in the dream, but it couldn’t possibly be real, which meant she was overreacting. She tried to play it cool by flipping the channel back over to The Mummy. Oh, great, the scene with all the bugs. That was sure to calm her down ‑‑ not.

  Fergie hopped up onto the couch and laid his furry head on her knee as Haden hung his shirt on a dining room chair. He walked over. “May I join you?”

  She nodded, but Fergie protested with growls and yaps. She conked him on the nose, a tap really, but her dog got the message. He settled back to her knee and closed his eyes as if leaving her to her fate.

  Haden rubbed a hand over his chin, drawing her attention to his sexy five o’clock shadow. “I don’t even know where to begin.”

  “List the subjects you’d like to discuss, and I’ll pick,” Kit suggested, knowing she probably wouldn’t like any of the topics.

  “Okay, I want to discuss how you felt about what happened between us the other night, why you ran off the way you did, what the bad dream was about, why you’re avoiding me now, and when we can have sex again.” He shook his head. “Actually didn’t mean to say that last part.”

  “But you were thinking it.” She waggled her finger at him accusingly. “You’ve been thinking about it since you got here.”

  “How do you know?”

  Shit, she needed to stop tripping herself up that way, so instead she pointed to his lower anatomy. And, manohman, the boy blushed beet red.

  He turned away from her and adjusted himself. “Really, really sorry about that. I haven’t had this problem since I was a teenager.” He faced her again, his skin a slightly lighter shade.

  Kit giggled at his look of mortification. She shouldn’t get such gleeful pleasure from his embarrassment, but he was so he-man most of the time, it was great to knock him down a peg or two. But then she grew serious. She wasn’t being honest. She’d barely noticed the state of his pants, only read his thoughts, and here she was, making fun of him. Not fair.

  “So that was my list. What did you want to start with?”

  “Forget the damn list. Go strip and I’ll meet you in the bedroom.”

  Haden rubbed his lower lip with his thumb, a grin blooming on his face. “Talk. I said talk about the subjects, not act them out.”

  “Talk is cheap, bud.”

  “But also necessary.” He paused. “I’ll be away for the next three…days. Angelica will be in charge of the pub.”

  “Wow, I didn’t think you’d trust somebody that fast. You act like a control freak whenever I’m over there.”

  “Well, it’s…necessary.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “The mountains.” He’d told Angelica that it was Army Reserve training, but he didn’t want to lie to Kit anymore than he had to.

  “Do you want me to call you if your place burns to the ground?” She sounded casual, but inside she was quaking at his leaving. What if he didn’t come back? What if this trip was a tryst with another woman? What if it was to get away from her?

  He cringed. “No cell service where I’m going, but feel free to call the fire department.”

  “Will do.” It wasn’t like they had a relationship. He could come and go free as a bird. No need to get choked up over it, but this thing was so new…she didn’t want to lose it.

  “I guess that’s why I wanted to talk about the other night before I left.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He tilted his head. “Where we stand.”

  She waited. She wasn’t going to be the one to clarify their relationship, not until she knew what he was thinking. And for a mind reader, she never seemed to know the important stuff. She just knew Haden thought about sex a lot. Poor guy. Didn’t they make a pill for that?

  He reached out to pat Fergie’s head, but the dog bared his teeth, so he put his hand back on his thigh. “I didn’t know what assumptions you’d made about our relationship. I thought we should talk about it.”

  “Assumptions? I haven’t made any assumptions. If you don’t want to have mind-blowing sex again, that’s fine with me.” It pained her to say that. What if he had that kind of sex with every woman he slept with? Maybe it just wasn’t that special to him. Like the platinum blonde. He’d obviously had that with her.

  “I want to have sex with you again. It was on my list to talk about.”

  “Maybe you should’ve invited me to the mountains with you, then.”

  His eyes widened, like he hadn’t seen that coming, and the picture in his mind was of him handcuffed ‑‑ of all things ‑‑
to his weight machine.

  “Do you like bondage or something?”

  “Huh?”

  God, she never had this much trouble keeping her ability to herself. With Haden she kept blurting out things she shouldn’t know. She needed a muzzle.

  “And I want to talk about that.”

  “What?”

  “Sometimes, I swear, it’s like you’re reading my mind.”

  She narrowed her eyes and grinned seductively. “So you were thinking about bondage.”

  He blushed again, this time adding her to the image of him handcuffed to the weight machine. She sat, panty-less, on top of his crotch. “Not exactly,” he said. “It’s just you seem to read me really well. Better than anyone else I’ve known. It freaks me out sometimes.”

  Yup, that was her. The freak.

  “Sorry.”

  He rested his arm across the back of the couch and leaned in closer. “Nothing to be sorry about. I found it particularly helpful during our activities the other night.” The skin around his eyes crinkled when he smiled at her. He was the sexiest man she’d ever met in her life.

  “Where were we on the list?” she asked, because he’d gone back to thinking about her gripping the headboard, and that had her melting on the inside.

  “The dream. You really freaked out, and you said I was in it. I thought maybe we should talk about it.”

  “It was just a silly dream. I’m over it.” Especially since the more that time passed, the more she realized how ridiculous the whole thing was. Monsters lived in movies, not under her bed. Or in her bed, as the case may be.

  “But what was it you saw?”

  She pretended to zip her lips.

  He leaned in even closer with a coaxing expression. “Talking makes it better; didn’t your parents tell you that when you had a bad dream?”

  “When I was five. They stopped asking after that.”

  “I’m here to ask you now.”

  Well, that gave her a little glow of warmth. He radiated concern as his fingers grazed along her shoulder. “Fine.” She shuddered at reliving the details. “I saw a murdered woman ‑‑ a blonde ‑‑ in a bed, and I saw your face change into a monster, sharp teeth, fur, the whole bit. Crazy, I know.”

  Haden sat back as if she’d slapped him.

  “How could…?” He caught himself, rubbing his cheek, looking at her, but not seeing her. “I have to go.” He stood up, waking Fergie, who growled and snapped.

  “But we were talking, and you were all concerned.”

  “We’ll talk more…later. I have to go now.” I have to think about this.

  Wow, the electric shock had not only given her the talent to read minds, but to spaz men out as well. She’d known it was a bad idea to hope for a relationship. At least he was thinking about “thinking” and not about having her committed. Judging by his reaction, she’d hit upon a bit of truth. The monster part had obviously been a figment of her dream state, so that meant that the murdered blonde had been real. That begged the question: Who had murdered her, and why had Haden been there?

  But he didn’t wait around for her to ask him. He left so fast, his shirt was still on her chair. Was he the murderer? Kit shivered. If that was the case, would he consider her a witness?

  Overactive imagination, girl. You slept with him, so it follows that he’s not the murderer. Your taste in men cannot possibly be that bad.

  Could it?

  * * * * *

  Haden sped through the late night streets barely registering his surroundings. Kitty had seen into his head, witnessed his memory of finding Leslie murdered. Far worse than that, Kitty had seen him change. Despite that, she’d opened her door to him tonight, so even though she’d witnessed the truth, she didn’t understand it. Maybe she’d written it off as a nightmare, but it had scared her enough to run from him the other night. But how had Kitty shared his dream? Why did she often seem to know what was in his head? He should have grilled her more, demanded an answer, but then he’d confirm that he was the monster she’d seen. Better to leave her wondering.

  Without doubt, she might reveal his secret to the tabloids, to the police. He doubted anyone would believe her, but suspicions of any kind might prompt someone to dig into his past or to put him together with a most wanted poster.

  God, he was tired of hiding.

  At a stoplight, Haden felt the moon’s pull. It was visible above the squat suburban buildings and trees, a glowing white ball so close to full that it was hard to tell that it wasn’t. The calendar marked one specific date as the full moon each month, but Haden had learned over the years that there were three nights where he couldn’t stop the change. And during those days, the beast was so close to the surface that it was better to stay away from people. While the moon affected him, everyone’s hearts beat so loud that he could envision the blood running through their veins. They also looked a bit too much like food, and little things they did annoyed him. Anger rode him, and he’d pick fights and break things.

  Better to stay home and punch his bag or workout with weights and brood. Try not to picture running through a forest with a pack at his side, their calls guiding him to fresh and weak prey. He had no pack and no territory, and he refused to let this beast inside him overtake his humanity.

  The sight of his house calmed him some. He parked and spent an hour securing his property, closing the gates, making sure all the motion lights worked properly, and setting alarms that chimed in his “office” rather than calling the police. He’d spent the cash he’d saved in Ireland ‑‑ what was left from getting the pub off the ground ‑‑ on the down payment for this house and on security. He’d needed a safe haven when he decided to risk living near the city.

  Tonight he’d spend in his bed, but tomorrow night he’d move the weight machine into his office. The lock on the reinforced door and the cuffs he used during the change had digital timers. He made the choice to lock himself in, and the timers ensured that he could get out again. He recalled the time he’d knocked the key across the room during a change. He’d been unable to free himself from the police-issue handcuffs for hours.

  His mind ventured back further. The transition to werewolf had taken time. He’d changed gradually during his teen years. The first few months he’d noticed the physical changes in his body hair, teeth, and nose. He’d stay in his room, earphones on, and rebuff his parents’ attention. But when he finally changed completely, he realized he lost himself. He woke up after the moon set, naked in the woods, a bloody dead rabbit under his chin. He didn’t know how strong he was or if he was capable of killing something much larger than a rabbit, but he’d decided not to risk it. Finding an abandoned hunting cabin in the woods just outside of town, he’d learned the art of locking himself up for changes and getting back out again. And the art of lying. His parents never noticed that he invariably spent several nights at friends’ houses during the full moon.

  * * * * *

  Angelica was nervous because Richard planned to visit her at work today. She wanted to impress him with her ability to handle the restaurant. Here she was in charge, but she worried that Richard would order her to do something in front of her employees, something she couldn’t say no to if she wanted to stay with him. He’d never played their games in front of people she knew, but he would eventually. It was all about stretching past her inhibitions. Each time she thought there was no possible way she could do something, could enjoy something ‑‑ like anal sex ‑‑ Richard ordered her to do it. Then when she did what he wanted, the pleasure was devastating.

  She’d spent more time at the front of the restaurant today, making sure the staff respected her authority in Haden’s absence. So far, no problems. In fact, she thought she was doing better than usual. Without explaining his connection to Haden, Richard had helped Angelica get a job here, engineering glowing managerial references to make her the perfect candidate, but he’d also warned her to never mention his name to her boss. That and the sense that Richard disliked Haden made
her scatterbrained when she was at work with him.

  “But I am the perfect candidate,” Angelica assured herself, despite the fake references. She’d just never been given the chance before. She scowled as she examined the contents of the walk-in pantry, marking inventory on her clipboard. She’d send Emilio to the grocery store if something couldn’t wait for the weekly deliveries. She’d prove herself worthy to both Haden and Richard by doing this job flawlessly without someone looking over her shoulder. Maybe she’d even convince herself.

  Zeke peeked in, bringing the scent of roasted lamb with him. “Talking to yourself, boss lady?” The cook was stubby, dressed in spattered whites, with kinky black curls covering his head.

  She smiled, glad for the distraction. “Yes, I am. How are things going?”

  “A lull, but the early dinner crowd will be here soon.”

  She nodded. “Excellent. Need anything?”

  “Chris mentioned change and paper for the register.”

  “I’m on it.”

  Chris was one of the waiters, a UR student like Richard, but an undergrad. Angelica left the pantry to go unlock one of the safes in the office. This one was strictly for coin rolls and ones. Another was for shift deposits. The third she didn’t have access to, but she thought it was mainly for the pub’s important papers. She grabbed some fives, ones, and quarter rolls and relocked the safe. Then she snagged a roll of receipt paper from the supply shelf and went to fix the register.

  An hour before sunset, Richard appeared, his tousled blond hair shading dark, mysterious eyes. At least she thought of them as mysterious. They’d drawn her to him the first night they’d met at a bar downtown. Blackie’s hostess, Susan, seated him in a corner table near the window as Angelica tended to a couple confused by the wine choices.

  Spotting her lover, she immediately grew hot and shaky. She lost her train of thought, fought to pull her eyes back to the couple at the table, but all she could think about was last night. Yesterday, Richard had received a special order, a leather swing, so last night he’d mounted it, then strapped her in it. Her skin chilled thinking of her initial embarrassment, embarrassment that had quickly changed to extreme arousal as he’d licked her pussy. But Richard hadn’t seemed that happy with the device. The couple at the table stared at her, their smiles faltering. Red wine, something about red wine.