by Lyn Horner
He swiveled in his seat to face her Tossing aside the last of his food, he reached over and toyed with her hand, circling his thumb around her open palm. “I am no longer hungry for food.”
She dropped her half eaten meal pack. “Neither am I.”
Short moments later, they lay face to face and naked on his bedroll, the ground sheet underneath protecting them from the wet sand. They needed no cover, for the sea-born wind was warm, their skin damp with the humidity, and their need for each other like smoldering embers.
“Josie, mi amor,” Gabriel whispered, lips a fraction of an inch away from hers. His powerful arms pressed her close, one big hand cupping her bottom while his mouth seized hers in a scorching kiss that went on and on, setting her ablaze from head to curling toes. His thick shaft jutted hard as a rock between them, nestled against her belly.
Her arms circled his neck, fingers lacing through his wavy, sweat-damp hair. Opening a tiny space between them, he brought his hand up to mold her breast, teasing the engorged crown with his thumb, shooting fiery tendrils of need straight to her groin. Growling hungrily deep in her throat, she pushed her bent knee between his legs and rubbed her throbbing mound against his hard thigh.
Breaking off the kiss, he rolled her onto her back and set to work with hands and lips, caressing and tasting her beginning at her throat and gliding down to her breasts. Clutching his shoulders, she arched upward offering herself to his talented mouth. He spent long minutes driving her half mad, causing her to cry out and thrash her head back and forth. Then he moved downward over her ribs and belly, taking his time, making her wait. Finally, he shifted to lie between her thighs.
“No, I haven’t bathed,” she protested breathlessly when he nuzzled her curls. She tried to push him away but he merely lifted his head and chuckled.
“Querida, your scent is an aphrodisiac. Do not resist. Let me pleasure you.”
She gave up struggling. Sliding his hands under her hips, he lifted her, giving him better access. His warm breath sizzled on her sensitive flesh as he parted her slick folds with his tongue and took a slow, loving taste. She shrieked in reaction. He continued his intimate attentions and she was soon urging him on with whimpers of need, her fingers tangled in his hair. She lost herself on a fiery, rising tide of sensation that crested at last, wringing a scream from her throat.
She lay spent, aglow with satisfaction, but he allowed her no time to recover. Rising over her, he positioned his penis at her opening and pushed deep inside, making her gasp when he reached the wall of her womb. She bit her lip and clung to him as he pulled nearly out then drove into her again. He thrust faster and faster, arousing her once more. Riding the internal waves, she soon climaxed with a second cry of delight. He followed almost immediately, spending his passion with a growl of ecstasy and slowly collapsing upon her.
Smiling happily, she stroked his sweat coated back, not minding his weight even though she was forced to take fast, shallow breaths.
“I am crushing you,” he murmured, concerned for her as always. Lifting off her, he shifted to his back beside her. When she rolled onto her side, cuddling close, he hummed contentedly, wrapped his arm around her and kissed her brow.
“Thank you for coming so far to find me, mi amor. You have captured my heart and, I think, saved me from myself.”
Josie smiled tiredly against his shoulder. “Just doing my job, señor.”
He gave a drowsy laugh. “I would enjoy doing my job again, but it must wait for morning, I fear.”
“Mmm, morning’s good,” she mumbled and fell asleep.
Something cool and wet struck her cheek, making her twitch. A second strike brought her partially awake. What was that, she wondered. Then Gabriel shook her shoulder.
“Josie, wake up,” he said urgently. “We must get inside.”
“What’s wrong?” Blinking, she jackknifed into a sitting position as more raindrops fell. The night was black, clouds having hidden the moon.
“It is about to pour. Unless you wish to be soaked, get up and run for the helicopter. Hurry!”
Fully awake now, she jumped to her feet and dashed to where she recalled the Firebird standing. The rain was falling hard by then. By touch, she found the door to the helo, opened it and climbed in. Gabriel came pounding up behind her.
“Here, catch,” he yelled, tossing her a pile of wet blankets and clothing, which she threw in back while he climbed in and closed the door.
“You’re dripping,” she said, touching his wet back. Both of them were still completely naked and shaking with a chill despite the warm, humid air. Stumbling around behind the pilot’s seat, she located a built-in storage compartment and fished out two ragged towels, intended for drying the helo when she washed it. She brought one to Gabriel. “Here, dry off.” Taking her own advice, she wiped her wet, shivering body.
She heard him toss aside his damp towel. He found her hand and tugged her to him saying, “Come here.” Pulling her with him, he settled in the passenger’s seat and drew her down onto his lap. He pressed her head to his shoulder and enclosed her in his embrace. “Sleep,” he said, making no move to kiss her as she’d expected.
A bit disappointed but tired, she relaxed, letting his warmth and familiar, manly scent lull her asleep to dream of him. When he woke her again, the sun was rising over the glistening sea. This time he did not disappoint, managing to love her thoroughly despite their cramped quarters.
*
Gabriel’s admiration for Josie’s flying ability grew as they wended their way north over the next few days, sometimes facing strong headwinds and once caught in a sudden storm off the Pacific. She knew exactly how to handle the helicopter, how far she could push the craft and when to set down and wait out the bad weather.
Her pretty red bird was not designed for long range flight, so they stopped periodically to refuel. He gladly paid, ignoring her insistence that she’d brought more than enough money to cover the cost, sewn into the lining of her jacket. Smart girl! He neglected to mention how much extra he paid at some places to convince the reluctant sellers to let them have the fuel and forget they’d ever been there.
Each night they stopped to rest in a secluded location, and he made love to her with passion and tenderness. He amazed himself with how much he had come to love this feisty, soft-hearted woman. His thirst for vengeance against his father still simmered deep inside, but no longer did it consume his days and nights. He had Josie to thank for that.
She cut inland across a corner of Mexico and finally brought them to her homeland in northeastern Arizona. They landed around midday at a small airport, her home base, she said, proudly adding that it was owned by the Navajo Nation. He had not known the Navajo land was an autonomous nation within the United States.
They’d seen snow in a few places on the way here, not surprising since it was late December and Josie had informed him that her homeland lay at a fairly lofty altitude. Prepared for low temperatures, they donned their heavy jackets before descending from the helicopter into a cutting wind, not very different from the mountains back home. However, the high desert atmosphere differed greatly. The air contained not the slightest trace of humidity. Even the smell was unusual to Gabriel, holding a dry, sharp scent instead of the pungent tropical fragrances he was used to.
“Our land is very dry compared to yours,” Josie commented as he slowly turned, taking in the foreign landscape. “I love it here but you might not.”
He pivoted to reassure her. “On the contrary, I do like your land. I have seen photos of this part of America and have long wanted to visit here. Now I will see it with you, querida. I could not ask for a better, more beautiful guide.”
She gave him a pleased smile, blushing at his compliment. “Come on, I need to let them know at the office that I’m back. Then we’ll head for my place.”
Her place turned out to be a small adobe house in the town of Chinle, about three miles from the airport. They traveled there in Josie’s rugged off-road Jeep –
red to match her beloved Firebird – which she’d left parked at the airport in the care of a Navajo man named Ben, who she called a good friend. Gabriel might have been jealous when she hugged the man if he wasn’t old enough to be her father, possibly even her grandfather.
Walking into her home, he found the layout of the front portion much like that of the foreman’s dwelling he’d lived in for the past year, only more modern and comfortable. One open room was divided in two. The side to his left served as a small living room while the right-hand side housed a plain but tidy kitchen. A fireplace was centered on the end wall in the living room.
“Burr, it’s cold in here,” Josie said, briskly rubbing her hands together. “I’ll get a fire going. Then I’d better check my machine for any important messages.”
“I will build the fire,” he said, setting down his saddlebags. “Go ahead and listen to your messages.”
She hesitated for a moment then nodded. “Okay. There’s plenty of wood and kindling over there.” She pointed to a wrought iron log bin near the hearth. “And you’ll find matches on the mantel.” Leaving him to his task, she walked to a small desk standing in a corner near the fireplace and began going through her collection of messages. Some were in English, others in her native tongue, he couldn’t help hearing.
He soon had a fire blazing, warming the air. Standing, he unzipped his jacket and tossed it on an aged brown couch positioned beneath the small front window. Then he took the opportunity to glance around the room. Woven hangings in shades of blue, brown, white and dark red brightened the walls. One depicted stylized dancing figures in native costumes – Navajo, Gabriel assumed – while others displayed intricate geometric patterns. Rugs done in similar but darker designs were scattered across the floor.
Done checking her messages, Josie removed her coat and laid it with his on the couch. Then she turned to him, stuffing her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, thereby stretching her blue-checked shirt taut across her breasts. “No messages that can’t wait. You hungry? There’s a taco joint up the street, or I can probably come up with something here, but it won’t be much. I made sure to throw out anything that would spoil before I left for Colombia.”
Finding her far more tempting than any food, he shook his head. “Later. Right now I am more interested in seeing the rest of your home, especially your bedroom.” He enjoyed the sudden flush in her copper-gold cheeks and the way her lips parted. “Does it by chance have a bed big enough for two?”
“It does,” she said, voice cracking.
“Good. I do not mind making love to you on the ground,” he said, closing the short distance between them. “But for some time I have had a picture in my head of you lying on a real bed with your long raven hair spread like a fan around you.” He lightly traced the line of her cheek and jaw with his forefinger, liking how she trembled at his touch. “In my vision, it is always daylight, allowing me to gaze upon your loveliness as I dearly wish to do.” He stroked her bottom lip with his thumb, feeling her moist, fast breaths caress his hand and watching her eyes flutter closed.
“Will you bring my vision of you to life, mi amor?” he whispered, dropping slow, wet kisses upon her face and throat.
“Yes, oh yes,” she moaned, clawing at his shirt.
“Then show me to your bedroom, little tigresa.”
She did as he asked, fulfilling his erotic image in every way.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The next morning, as Gabriel bounced along beside Josie in her Jeep, he realized why she chose to drive an off-road vehicle. The route into Canyon de Chelly, where her father lived – spelled de Chelly but pronounced de Shay, she explained – was a dry, sandy riverbed. The sand was loose with deep ruts, tossing them up and down and slowing their progress.
“This is Chinle Wash,” Josie said. “You wouldn’t know by the looks of it now, but water runs high through here during the wet season.”
“This is the river you nearly drowned in as a child?”
“Sure is. It’s fed by streams running down from the Chuska Mountains to the east. Long ago, the water cut three canyons, de Chelly, del Muerto and Monument. They meet to form the wash and the three are included in Canyon de Chelly National Monument. All the land belongs to my people, the Navajo Nation.”
“Indeed? Then your people are wealthy.”
She laughed. “Not really, but we’re proud to live in our sacred homeland.” Pulling over, she said, “I need to stop and let some air out of the tires. That will make the going easier.” Shifting into park, she removed a tire gauge from the glove box and hopped out to begin the task.
“May I help?” Gabriel asked, also stepping from the vehicle. The soft sand shifted under his booted feet. The day was somewhat warmer than yesterday but a sharp wind blew through the canyon, ruffling his hair and stinging his ears. Amazingly, Josie seemed oblivious to it.
“Naw, I’ll be done in a couple minutes,” she said, working on the front driver’s side tire. “Have a look around while you wait.”
Grinning over her independent nature, he did as she suggested, gazing at the rugged land that had helped shape her into the strong, confident woman she was. Red rock canyon walls rose above the wide, sandy wash. Trees of a variety unfamiliar to him grew along both sides, not as lush as his native land but softening the harsh landscape. “This is a beautiful place.”
“It’s nothing compared to what you’ll see later,” she said, squatting to work on the last tire. “The walls are only two or three hundred feet high here. They’re much taller farther into the canyon and we’ll soon pass the first pueblo ruins.
“Okay, I’m done. Let’s get going,” Standing, she slipped behind the wheel and he quickly jumped back in. Once they were on the move, she said, “Tomorrow, I’ll drive you around and show you the sights if you like.”
“I will like that very much.” He reached over to tunnel under her tied back hair and cup the back of her neck.
She darted him a smiling glance. “As you saw from all the signs at the entrance, outsiders aren’t allowed into the canyon by themselves, except for one trail leading down from the rim to the White House Pueblo Ruins. Otherwise, they have to be accompanied by a park ranger or a Navajo guide. Since you’re with me, you don’t need to worry.”
“Sí, I am very fortunate to be with you, mi amor.” More fortunate than he deserved, he thought. Despite knowing what dangerous power he concealed and the fact that he was the son of a murderous villain, she loved him. He fully returned her love, but he was committed to bringing down his father’s empire of drugs and death. Once this crisis with the Guardians ended, he must return to Colombia and carry on the fight. Would Josie wish to go with him? Did he have the right to ask her?
They drove past several small farms whose fields lay bare in the winter cold, except for dried stubble serving as forage for the sheep, cattle and horses that roamed free. Josie turned onto a dirt path leading to one such property.
“There’s my father’s hogan,” she said, pointing to a multi-sided log structure peeking through the trees they passed. “It’s a traditional Navajo dwelling, but he has a more modern house behind it.”
An older man with long gray hair sat in an old-fashioned metal lawn chair outside the hogan. He wore a bulky wool jacket woven in Navajo patterns and a droopy felt hat and was smoking a pipe. Laying the pipe on a small table beside him, he rose as they drove up and raised his hand in greeting.
“So, daughter, you have finally returned,” he said with a welcoming smile.
“That I have, Father,” Josie laughingly replied. Cutting the engine, she stepped out of the vehicle and hurried to greet him with a hug.
Gabriel slowly followed, giving her time with her father.
The copper-skinned man patted her back and set her at arm’s length while he examined her from head to toe. “You look well. I was a little worried.”
“Only a little? I am disappointed,” she teased.
Her father shrugged, lips twitching. “P
erhaps more than a little.”
She laughed happily again. Turning to Gabriel who now stood next to her, she slipped her hand in his. “Father, this is the man I flew to Colombia to find. Gabriel Valdez, meet my father, Leon Tseda.”
The man’s dark eyes stared at their clasped hands then assessed Gabriel closely. Nodding, he offered his hand. “Welcome to my home, Señor Valdez,” he said in Spanish, a reminder of Josie’s statement that most Navajo spoke the language.
“Thank you, sir,” Gabriel replied in kind, shaking hands with him. Then a tall blonde woman appeared in the open doorway of the Hogan, catching his attention.
“Gabriel, it’s good to see you,” Michaela Peterson said, smiling brightly as she stepped outside to greet him, long hair whipping in the wind. “And you, Josie. We were afraid you might have run into trouble. Dev was about ready to go search for you.”
“He would have had a hard time finding me,” Josie said, giving Gabriel a secretive glance.
“I would have found you, Tseda, if I had to climb every mountain in Colombia,” a deep voice boomed. It belonged to a big man who came striding from the direction of a fruit orchard, carrying a hoe over one shoulder. The sweatshirt he wore encased muscles a wrestler might envy. His sweaty face split into a broad grin as he approached, gazing at Josie, causing Gabriel to tense.
“Hello to you too, Bear,” Josie said with a laugh. Releasing Gabriel’s hand, she met the big man with a hug, dwarfed by his size. They broke apart and she introduced him as her friend Dev Medina.
“Ah sí, your army buddy, querida.” Stepping close, Gabriel draped his arm across her shoulders. When she reached up to twine her fingers with his, he grinned and cocked an eyebrow at Medina. The man’s surprised expression and Leon Tseda’s slight frown did not deter him. He wanted them to know exactly how matters stood between him and his tigresa.