Thunder Moon (Nightcreature 8)

“Shh.” He yanked the band off the end of my braid. “Shake it out.”

I did, my hair flying, sliding across his chest, flicking his face, cascading over my shoulders, my breasts, rippling all the way past my hips.

“Now,” he said.

I clenched my thighs, ready to ride. But he flipped me onto my back, the movement so sudden, so unexpected, all I could do was fall.

I landed with an oomph, and I had no time to recover as he slid into my body once more. We were both on the edge, so close we shook with it. I lifted my legs, crossing my ankles at his spine, the movement pressing us together just so.

The lights went off in front of my eyes again, even though this time they were closed. He pulsed inside of me, his sigh in tandem with mine. He buried his face in my hair, kissed my neck, then my cheek, then my mouth.

He grew heavy, lax with satisfaction and languor. I had the same problem. All I wanted to do was sleep, but I wanted to breathe, too. I shoved at his shoulder, and he tumbled onto his back. As he did, his eagle feather brushed my skin and heat trailed in its wake.

I rolled onto my side, fingered the feather. “I was wondering how this would feel against my—”

He turned his head, lifted an eyebrow. “Your what?”

“Use your imagination.”

He lay back and closed his eyes. “All right.”

I hadn’t meant “use your imagination” literally; then again, round three was beyond me right now. I’d just hold that thought, or maybe dream a little dream.

From the smile on Ian’s face, he was already doing just that.

Chapter 18

I awoke to complete darkness, disoriented. I’d forgotten the candles.

Panicked, I turned in that direction and bumped into someone. The sense of dread increased momentarily before everything came flooding back.

Ian. The date that wasn’t. The sex that was.

I relaxed, allowing my thigh to press against his. This was nice, though I didn’t dare get used to it. Once I did, he’d be gone. I knew that as surely as I knew he was going to break my heart if not sooner, then definitely later.

Now I couldn’t sleep.

I glanced at the clock. Four a.m. I might as well get up and do the work I was supposed to have done last night. When I met with Claire and Mal I certainly didn’t want to do so empty-handed. They’d wheedle out of me why, and I’d rather not have to say.

I slid from the bed, snagged my robe from the closet, and slipped out the door without Ian ever moving. He seemed to be sleeping well, and I was glad.

I’d left my laptop downstairs, so I padded in that direction rather than to my office. I’d installed wireless Internet the week after I’d buried my dad.

In the same way that Claire’s father had sneered at air-conditioning, calling it a sinful waste of money, mine had refused to allow the Internet in his house. Anything that needed to be done in that direction could be done at work or at school.

Personally I’d thought he was scared of computers. I never had seen him use one when he could get someone else to use one for him. He’d called it delegating; I’d made chicken noises when his back was turned.

At any rate, I now had wireless Internet and Claire had central air. The times they were a-changing.

In the living room, I curled up in the recliner, tucking my bare feet beneath the hem of my robe. It might be summer, but the nights often turned cool, especially this close to the mountains. Right now the windows had fogged over with the mist that would shroud everything until the sun burned it off.

The computer connected, the cursor blinking, waiting for me to proceed. I bit my lip. It was kind of hard to look up creepy crawly things when I didn’t know which creepy crawly things I wanted to look up.

I typed in supernatural creature without a heart. I got back nothing useful.

I tried heartless, which was worthless, as were any other combinations of “creature,” “paranormal,” “supernatural,” and “heart.”

Next I tried Cherokee myths. I didn’t discover anything I didn’t already know—legends of creation, stories that explained the sun, the moon, the thunder. Tales of the little people and the immortals, beings who were often invisible until they wished to be seen. The rabbit as trickster, the hummingbird that brought us tobacco before tobacco was common.