Inching upward, she captured his mouth with a hot kiss. “I like having you where I want you,” she told him when she lifted her head. “This is exactly right.”
“Oh yeah? And what do you have in mind to do with me?”
She opened her knees, planted them on either side of his waist and sat up, straddling him. “Lots of things,” she whispered as she rubbed her hands across his chest. “Good things.” She wanted him to feel good. Be happy. And to forget all that had happened to him at the mine.
His eyes widened and darkened and the smile on his lips turned slightly dangerous. He reached up and used his fingers to flirt with her nipples. Rolling, pinching, then massaging.
“I have dreamed of this a thousand times, Bright Eyes. Just this.” He bent in two and laved one sensitive tip, nipping it with his teeth.
“Oh. Oh…”
This wasn’t altogether what she had in mind. She’d wanted to drive him as crazy as she was. But at this rate she’d completely stop thinking any moment now and be totally useless.
“No fair. It’s my turn.” She flashed him as flirty a smile as she knew how to give, then hitched in a breath and flipped herself, straddling him again with her back to his sexy grin.
Here was a much better position for what she had in mind. This way she had full access to his erection and he couldn’t distract her.
She ran a fingertip up his fullness to the moist tip and listened to him moan. Laughing aloud and reveling in the moment, she was thrilled to have him under her power.
“Teal…”
As he said her name on a whispered breath, Teal’s mind flashed on a half-remembered dream. A shadow of an emotion. A time out of time.
She’d been here before. Right here on his big brass bed, teasing him. This man she’d thought was a stranger had appeared to her in the shadows of the night many years ago.
When exactly? And how? She didn’t really want to know. She’d always thought that dreams were her enemy, and hated every one she’d ever had. Just like the one she’d had during her first night here. Nasty. Ugly things.
She wanted to bury every image. They were all too gray and hazy for a woman who needed things to be in black and white.
So why did she seem to be flashing on an old dream scene right now? She refused to go there, no matter that it might have included Lucas and probably sex. Tonight, she’d deliberately act differently from anything that might’ve been in any dream. She decided to make new memories. Real ones.
Shaking her head, she ripped at the braid in her hair and set the long, black mass free. This was no dream. It was real and he was real. And she was determined to live through every single live emotion.
She could do this.
Lucas had been laughing along with the sexy woman of his dreams who straddled him. He enjoyed her taking the reins. She was exquisite in her lust.
But suddenly something had seemed to change for her. The atmosphere, or the musk in the night. Whatever it was, Teal quit giggling and was holding perfectly still.
When she’d let her long silky hair loose, it had whipped around her back and he had images of burying his hands in it. Of letting the soft strands slide through his fingers as he held her head still for a kiss.
With this quiet, he wasn’t sure of anything. It was quite a different scenario than in any of his dreams. But Lucas didn’t care a bit. She was still his dream girl.
He held his breath waiting for her. In a moment she lifted up on her knees and hovered over him.
His hands went to her hips and he helped guide her down on him. As he filled her, Lucas heard her moan—a low, keening sound that ran along his nerve endings and made him go wild with desire.
Running his hands up her sides and then along her spine, he could feel her trembling under his fingertips. He began to move his hips.
“Stop it. Not that way,” she cried.
He froze. “Am I hurting you?”
“No. No. It’s just…It’s my turn. I’ll do it differently this time.”
Lucas had no idea what she’d meant by that, but he had her exactly where he wanted her—in his bed. And he wasn’t about to ruin it by doing anything she didn’t want.
She sighed, then hiccuped a tiny sob. Something was definitely not right with her.
“Teal. Stop now. Let me just hold you for a while.”
He wanted to see her face. Had to know what she was feeling. He couldn’t tell a thing with her back to him.
She gasped, “No. I’m fine.”
Lifting her bottom again, she let herself back down, slow and easy. It felt wonderful, but Lucas was still worried about her.
This had never happened in any of his many dreams. Teal had always been wild and wanton. Never silent, never hesitant. In fact, just a few minutes ago in his studio she’d let herself go. She’d been hot and desperate and so ready that she’d exploded at the very first thrust.
He didn’t necessarily need her to be that wild. Soft and slow was every bit as erotic to him. But he didn’t want her unhappy. Not ever.
Leaning back, she took him to the hilt. Her long hair streamed over him and tickled his chest. With the tight and welcoming fit of her, he felt as if he’d finally arrived back where he belonged.
Lucas lifted his back off the bed and wrapped his arms around her. He would hold her safe and warm and let her make all the moves she wanted.
She gasped again and tried to sit up. He lifted, with her still in his arms, until they both were sitting up. Spooned together that way, she began to move once more.
He scraped a thumb over her nipple and put his mouth on the back of her neck. She cried out and moved in earnest.
Suddenly things were all fast and furious, raw and savage. Heat mixed with electric impulses. It was as if he’d put a match to dynamite.
Feeling her coming undone around him, Lucas let himself go. Waves of pleasure ripped through her into him until they both cried out with the intensity.
He wanted to howl, to shout, to cry.
Instead, he pulled her down to the bed, tucked her in to lie next to him and wrapped her in his embrace. This had been the most sensual thing that had ever happened to him.
Holding her close and listening as her breathing evened out, he wondered how many more times they had remaining before she left him for good. And what he would ever do without her after tonight?
Could he go back to having her only as a dream girl?
Teal rolled over and opened one sleepy eye. Light streamed in around closed blinds in Lucas’s bedroom. It must be late.
She turned and went right back to the snuggly warm spot she’d been occupying under Lucas’s arm. Who cared if it was past daybreak—or even if it was past noon?
There was no need for either of them to get up yet. His curing ceremony would not begin for hours yet, and she had taken a few days off.
Closing her eyes again, Teal smiled to herself. What a wonderful night it had been. They had reached for each other over and over. What she remembered the most was a powerful pounding in her ears. A hammering of blood and heat and heart.
As she lay there feeling her body come awake with its memories of pleasure, Teal also noticed a subtle shift in her feelings. In the cave yesterday she’d discovered that she’d grown to like Lucas a lot. And she had wanted to save him when things looked bad. Then of course, she’d been wanting to have sex with him—desperately—ever since she’d first seen him on that ledge in Many Caves Canyon.
But there was something else. Something new. Something more.
Thinking about how she felt, she curled up and soaked in his body heat as she listened to him softly snoring. What was the difference now?
She could remember from last night a powerful urge to keep him safe and happy. Happy? Yes. She needed him to be happy more than she wanted happiness for herself.
Her throat went dry. Never before had someone else’s well-being meant more than her own. Hell.
Tears began to gather at the back of her eyes. But the
y weren’t tears of joy. They weren’t even tears of misery.
As they leaked from the corners of her eyes, Teal realized the tears on her cheeks were for him. For Lucas. He’d lived through so much in his lifetime. Then she’d arrived on the scene and caused him even more grief. Most of the bad things that had happened to him recently were because of her.
That wasn’t something she wanted to dwell on. Not now while she was curled up against his side and basking in the goodness of their lovemaking. Maybe after his ceremony when he was once again well, she would talk to him about all that had happened—now and in her dreams.
Lucas sat naked on a log inside the tarp of his sweat lodge, tending to the fire. The north wind was kicking up outside and bringing the first real bluster of winter to the Lukachukai Mountains.
He’d hated leaving Teal to her own devices back inside his house—especially after last night. But a big part of the ceremony he would undergo later today was dependent upon him taking a sweat bath in preparation.
Rubbing his eyelids with the back of his knuckles, Lucas tried to clear his mind. It didn’t seem worthwhile thinking about Teal. That way led to confusion and potential sorrow. Not to clarity. Not to harmony and balance.
The kindling he’d gathered earlier was beginning to catch and flames crackled warmly before him. He’d placed his rocks in the proper formation, and had a bucket of clean, fresh water standing by. Now he sat with his legs crossed, waiting for the fire to burn itself down to coals. The rocks needed to get hot enough.
Trying not to think of Teal and how he felt about the reality of the woman he had loved in his dreams, Lucas turned his thoughts instead to the reason for his upcoming Sing.
All by itself, the matter of his talking to a Skinwalker would’ve been enough for him to need a cure. But becoming one of them—That was not anything the Brotherhood had ever faced.
A year or so ago, they’d helped those teenager athletes who had fallen prey to Skinwalker promises of money and fame. The Brotherhood had found a healing cure for them then. In fact, that particular Sing, along with a little psychic hypnosis, had cured both the young men and the young nurse who had been so confused and tricked by her Skinwalker boyfriend.
But Lucas wasn’t so sure that the same cure would work for him. His sensitive’s mind would not allow him to be cured by any hypnosis.
How had he gotten himself in such a fix?
He thought about how he’d felt soaring along the downdrafts. He thought about the unusual, and terrible anger that had run through his being. He thought about the Burrowing Owl Skinwalker, whose thoughts had seeped into his subconscious mind.
What? Did he really have buried memories of what the Skinwalker had been thinking? If so, he needed to remember. Perhaps his thoughts could lead the Brotherhood to the Owl or his witch brothers.
The fire had burned itself down to coals by now. Lucas squatted before it and reveled in the hot, dry air. Like a sauna, the warm heat had begun the body cleansing he so needed. Sweat trickled down his neck as perspiration soaked through every pore.
Singing sweat chants the ancients had taught to the People centuries ago, he relaxed his muscles and let the sickness and evil seep from his body. In a few minutes he dipped his hand into the bucket of water and sprinkled droplets onto the rocks. Steam sizzled off the fiery basalt and surrounded him in moisture.
Soon he was engulfed in a hazy, stifling fog. Images began to swirl before his eyes. He lifted a hand to his forehead and swiped away the sweat, then rested back on his haunches.
A movie began playing out in his head. A movie starring a wild, yellow-eyed wolf. The Navajo Wolf. The half man, half witch who’d ruled the dark forces in Dinetah over the last few years.
Lucas suddenly knew the man’s evil power. It was seductive and tantalizing, though somewhere underneath it all, he could feel the Wolf losing strength. There was something not quite right in the Skinwalker’s world. Lucas sensed a growing panic and insanity in the man who became the Wolf.
Shaking his head in order to peer through the mist, it began to feel as if Lucas was seeing things through the eyes of a timid, half burrowing owl. One who longed to usurp the Wolf’s reign. The Owl was lying back and waiting for his chance. Waiting and watching for the moment when he could rise up and dominate the evil armies all on his own.
Without losing his focus, Lucas dropped more water against the rocks. Taking a deep, cleansing breath, he waited for the visions to continue.
“Our operations are going well, Owl.” The Wolf was in the form of a man with a pocked face and longish animal-like snout. “Killing that tribal spy for no good reason was an excellent idea. Senseless evil and diversion will send our enemies reeling. The FBI and the Brotherhood will be chasing their tails, giving us enough time to continue our search for the map.
“My map. They have no right to that map. It guides the way to Skinwalker secrets. It’s nothing fit for mere humans to see.”
Lucas felt a chill climbing up the spine of the Owl whose head he was occupying. He heard himself telling the Wolf whatever he wanted to hear.
“Yes, sirrrr…” he stuttered. “Already, more and more of the Brotherhood have quit searching for the map as they gather to assist their own.
“You would’ve had a good laugh when the woman FBI agent interrogated foolish environmentalists who only wanted peaceful protest. Our enemies spin their wheels, going in opposing directions.”
The Wolf wheezed in a breath and grabbed the Owl by the scruff of the neck. “I laugh at nothing until the parchments are in my hands. The woman means nothing. Kill her if necessary. But bring me that map, you idiot.”
Lucas jerked his head and snapped out of the foggy haze of images surrounding him. Relief poured over him like the beads of moisture glistening on his skin from the failing steam. He was back.
Inhaling deeply, he felt dizzy now. But at least he was in his own head and his own time. Free once again from the grisly anger—and the spine-tingling fear.
With each breath, he relished his health and good genes. He tested the strong calf muscles he had honed and trained. He rejoiced in the vigor in his lungs and the power in his shoulders, reminding him that he was human and Navajo.
His physical well-being was his hozho, his balance. It took losing it to an owl to make him appreciate his health.
Going with the flow of life was the Navajo Way. If you can’t win the battle, learn to make a friend of your enemy—but watch him closely. Above all, keep your harmony and balance.
When he emerged from the sweat lodge, Lucas knew what was he was destined to do. He grabbed a towel and headed for the shower.
“What do you mean the curing ceremony is off? Why? I thought everyone was coming here. I thought…” Teal was astonished and nearly speechless as Lucas shrugged a shoulder and looked away.
She’d found him outside here under the cottonwoods, bending over small piles of different-colored sands. He had been chanting softly to himself and sifting handfuls of the sand in his palm one at a time.
He didn’t look up. “I called everyone and told them not to come. It took some fast-talking to convince the Brotherhood that I know what I’m doing. I don’t need them and they are needed elsewhere more.”
What was he talking about?
She crouched down beside him. “Tell me what’s happened. What’s wrong?”
“Have I ever told you about the sand painting?” he asked. “About how wonderful it is to be able to make a good living doing something so sacred—and helpful?”
He wanted to discuss sand painting. Now?
She stood up and stared at him. His hair was still damp from a shower. His soft jeans and flannel shirt looked terribly romantic today. His long artistic fingers, the style of his thick black hair growing over
14
T eal stood over him, glaring down at the sand he’d been sifting. “You’ve never mentioned your sand painting, except to point them out on your walls.” She lifted her chin and looked around. “H
ave you seen Snow lately, by the way? This sand looks like something he could really get into.”
She graced him with a wry grin and Lucas’s heart flipped over. His spirit was already crying at the coming loss of that haunting smile.
“Though the cat has the new special privilege of going outside with you, Snow has been imprisoned in the house temporarily,” he told her. “That bilagaana cat cannot be allowed out when I’m working in sand.”
Chuckling, Teal folded her arms over her chest. “So you’re working? It doesn’t look like you’ve gotten too much done. And this whole discussion still doesn’t tell me why you changed your mind about the ceremony.”
Lucas dribbled a few grains of sand out on the board below him. “Things change, Teal. Times change. Just like these grains of sand, sometimes life has to be rearranged.
“In the Navajo Way, medicine men use sacred sand paintings within their healing ceremonies,” he added. “The sacred ones are not at all like the pieces of art you’ve seen throughout my house. Each Singer must ceremoniously destroy his sacred paintings, wipe them all away before dawn or risk taboos against both himself and his patient.”
Lucas wondered if he could find a way to tell her about the dreams—before she left for good. He wasn’t sure he had the nerve.
He needed to forget who he was. A man with a consuming need to be accepted. He wasn’t sure her nontraditional upbringing would ever be able to accept that part of him.
It didn’t matter about his needs at the moment, though. She was the reason for everything he was about to do.
Standing up beside her, he spilled the remaining sand back on the ground and took her hand. “We need to talk. Walk with me for a few minutes.”
“Okay. But I still don’t…”
“Have you ever seen me in a dream, Bright Eyes?” The question both interrupted and seemed to stun her.
“I don’t dream.”
“I know better. You had a nightmare the first night you stayed here with me.” He took a few steps toward the cottonwoods and the nearly dry spring below them. “You might not remember them. But I remember all of mine.”
Books by Linda Conrad Page 90
