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Shadow Dreams

Page 6

by Evangeline Anderson


  Oh my God! I clutched the mace to my chest, my heart-beat going a mile a minute. Was Shadow all right? Suddenly it seemed like a very stupid thing to have done, letting him out like that. What if they had a gun or a tazer? What if he was lying out there hurt right now? What if…?

  “Shadow?” I yelled, unable to stand the suspense any more. I moved carefully towards the door, holding the mace out in front of me stiff-armed as though it was a gun. I was going to spray the first person I saw.

  There was a low muttering like several people talking and then I heard a familiar voice yelling my name.

  “Angie? My God, Angie, call him off! We weren’t going to take them all, I swear!”

  “Douglas?” I gathered the silky folds of the robe closely around me and dared to step outside. The ground was rough under my bare feet and the night smelled like dust and sand and uprooted roses. All along the back of the house, several of the rare bushes that Douglas had put in and tended so carefully were laying on their sides, roots exposed. The delicate blooms were lying with their faces in the dirt and I had to step carefully to avoid getting a thorn in my foot.

  “Douglas?” I yelled again because he wasn’t in sight.

  “Around here.” His voice drifted around the side of the house.

  I was edging around the uprooted rose bushes towards the sound of his voice when a familiar bark echoed in the empty yard and Shadow came trotting out of the darkness.

  “Shadow!” I stopped for a moment to examine him, pleased to see he was all right. “Good boy,” I told him, ruffling his fur affectionately. “I think you really scared the living shit out of them. Let’s go see, huh?”

  He barked again, agreeably and we went around the side of the house to find Douglas and Justin huddling together on the ground looking utterly terrified. They were both dressed in all black, which for my ex-husband meant black jeans and a black polo shirt and for his boyfriend, skin-tight black biker shorts and a black tank top. They had smeared some kind of black grease all over their faces like they were going on a top-secret commando-style mission instead of stealing rose bushes in the middle of the night. Well, Douglas always did have a flair for the dramatic, I thought. They looked like two terrified boys caught playing war out past their bed time.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing here, Douglas?” I asked, trying not to laugh.

  “What the hell does it look like?” he snarled, still crouching awkwardly on the ground. “Trying to get back what’s mine.”

  “It looks like you and Justin are out here playing Navy Seals,” I said, crossing my arms and tapping my fingers impatiently. “And may I remind you that those rose bushes were bought mostly with my money and planted on my property? Why are you two still laying on the ground like that?” I asked because neither of them had moved an inch from their original positions.

  “He’ll kill us if we move.” Justin’s voice, usually deeper than Douglas’s, was no more than a thin whimper.

  “Oh, come on now, boys, I know he’s big but he’s just a dog,” I protested, thinking they were both overreacting.

  Shadow barked and they both jumped. I felt a little sorry for Justin. His grease smeared face was tense with fear and I thought he looked like an abused and neurotic chimney sweep—if a chimney sweep ever went to work in biker shorts, which I doubted. Douglas, on the other hand, was glaring pure malevolent hatred at me from his narrowed gray eyes.

  “I was the one who cared for those roses, Angie. Me.” He spoke coldly, keeping his eyes on Shadow and not moving a muscle.

  “Yes, I know that, Douglas.” I felt a muscle twitch in my face. “You cared a hell of a lot more for the roses than you did for our marriage.”

  “Can you blame me?” he sneered. “Those roses gave me more pleasure than you ever did, my dear.”

  “Douglas,” Justin hissed. “Now is so not the time for this!”

  “To hell with that!” Douglas stood suddenly and reached for me. I don’t know what he intended to do but before I could even bring my can of mace into attack position, Shadow was between us. He looked up at my ex-husband, a low, menacing rumble building in his throat, every hair in his licorice-black coat bristling. As he was a big dog and Douglas was a rather small man, Shadow didn’t have far to look.

  “Whatever you were planning on doing I wouldn’t,” I told Douglas casually, crossing my arms again. My ex-husband was such an ass, it felt good to have the upper hand for once. “He’s very protective.” I nodded at Shadow whose growl deepened.

  “Yes, I can see that.” His face twisted into a hateful sneer. “So glad you finally found someone who could put up with you, Angie.”

  “That’s totally unfair,” I said, feeling the muscle in my jaw begin to clench again. “If anybody was high-maintenance in our relationship it was definitely you.”

  “So sorry if I impeded your relentless march towards tedium, darling.” His voice dripped venomous sarcasm. “How is your life lately, anyway? I bet you just have to beat the men off with a stick.”

  “You’re an asshole, Douglas,” I said flatly, feeling my jaw clench as it always did when I was around him. “You always have been and you always will be.” How could I have ever thought I loved this man?

  “Why don’t you just admit you’re upset because I found someone so much more entertaining than you to spend my valuable time with?” He smiled and it was an expression you’d imagine seeing on a shark’s mouth before it took the first bite.

  “Your valuable time? Give me a break,” I said, trying to sound calm.

  “Yes, my dear, valuable. I realized just how valuable when it occurred to me that I was wasting my life with you. Oh, and by the way, how are you spending your time these days? Written any Pulitzer-class material lately, or is it the same old dreary ad campaigns?”

  I couldn’t help wincing at that. Douglas knew my writing, or lack thereof, was a sore spot with me, and he had always been quick to bring up the most hurtful thing he could in any argument.

  I took a deep breath, willing myself not to cry because this asshole wasn’t worth it. I could see by the wide, toothy grin on Douglas’s face that he knew he’d scored points on me and it delighted him. I debated spraying him with mace or siccing Shadow on him again and decided to do neither.

  “Thank you,” I said at last, holding myself in by main force of will.

  “For what?” Douglas looked puzzled and not nearly as pleased as he had. I knew he’d wanted to see me blow up and lose my temper or even better, break down and cry. I was happy not to meet his expectations.

  “For reminding me why I’m better off without you,” I said. I stood up straighter and tightened the flimsy pink robe around myself with one hand. The other I rested lightly on Shadow’s head, drawing strength from the big dog’s warmth and the low growl that still vibrated his massive throat.

  “I’m going to count to ten,” I told my ex-husband. “And you’d better be gone by the time I reach it or you’re going to get to know my new friend a lot better than you want to. One.”

  “But the roses … my Lady Penzance Eglantines, they’ll die,” Douglas protested weakly. Beside him, Justin was already scrambling to his feet.

  “Should’ve thought of that before you pulled them out by the roots,” I said calmly. “Two … three…”

  “Douglas, come on.” Justin’s face was a mask of black-smeared terror as he tugged at my ex’s arm. I thought it odd though that instead of looking at the menacing Shadow he was staring over my shoulder as though expecting a hideous new monster to appear out of the blackness at any second.

  “Four,” I said. “Five.”

  Douglas stood firm although his face was beginning to crumble. “I’m not afraid,” he said uncertainly. But it sounded more like a question than a statement of fact.

  “Well I am, damn it! Douglas, come now or I’m leaving you.” Justin was already backing towards the side gate that led out of the big back yard.

  “Six … seven…” I said. I could
feel Shadow tensing beside me, waiting for my signal.

  “You wouldn’t leave me.” Douglas turned to face his boyfriend, the uncertainty beginning to show in his body language.

  “Eight,” I said.

  “Oh yes I would. I know you love those roses but you can always grow more. Whereas there’s no way you can grow a new set of balls. Remember what he said,” Justin emphasized, almost to the gate.

  “Nine,” I said, wondering what the hell he was talking about. “I’d leave now if I were you, Douglas. It looks like your boyfriend has the car keys.”

  Douglas looked over his shoulder one last time at Justin who was disappearing into the night. He turned back to me with a look of pure hatred contorting the features I had once thought so handsome.

  “You’ll be sorry for this, Angie. I promise you’re going to pay…”

  “Ten,” I said in a deadly calm voice. “Shadow…”

  But Douglas was gone, melting into the night as quickly as he could and I could hear him arguing with Justin and calling the other man a coward all the way to their car.

  I shook my head. Poor Justin, he’d just have to learn the hard way. The same way I had.

  Chapter 10

  “Come on, boy, let’s see what we can do about those roses,” I said, patting my leg. Shadow still stood stiffly to attention but at last he followed me with a last low growl for my ex-husband’s retreating tail lights. I sighed. I wasn’t above letting Douglas think his prize roses were going to die, but I wouldn’t actually let them. I had been serious when I told Justin they were the only good thing Douglas had done to my house.

  Rounding the corner I knelt in the sandy dirt and began trying to replace the delicate bushes in the holes they’d come out of. The roots were a sad, tangled mess, much like my emotions. I could only hope that they hadn’t been too traumatized to take root and grow again in the roiled ground.

  By the time I was done the moon was getting lower in the sky and I was a filthy mess. My arms and hands were covered with scratches from the thorns and the pink silk robe was a total write off. But the roses were back in the ground and didn’t look too bad. I wished I could say the same for myself.

  “C’mon, Shadow,” I said wearily, climbing to my feet. “Let’s go.” It was time to hit the showers for the third time that night and then to bed. Shadow followed me eagerly inside. For the past half hour he had been whining and pacing uneasily. He kept staring at the night sky and pawing at my leg as if to hurry me up. I couldn’t understand his behavior but now that we were going inside he seemed to be all right again.

  After a shower I went to bed naked (I’d done it for two nights now, why break the streak) feeling numb and emotionally exhausted. It occurred to me that I was feeling that way a lot lately. I tried to tell myself that I’d just had a traumatic couple of days but that wouldn’t fly. I realized there was a lot wrong with my life and not all of it included Douglas.

  I hated my job. I was lonely and miserable out here in the big house at the end of Idlewild Lane and I wasn’t doing what I wanted with my life. I thought about Douglas’s hateful words, his statement that he realized he was ‘wasting his valuable time’ with me. Well what had I been doing but wasting my own valuable time lately? Spinning my wheels. Writing Ad copy when what I wanted to be writing was something completely different. Maybe even a novel. And why not?

  “What am I going to do with myself?” I whispered quietly into the darkness. The last thing I expected was a reply.

  “What do you want to do?” a low voice whispered in my ear.

  I screamed—I couldn’t help it. The voice was familiar, it was a voice from my dreams, and though I was exhausted, I still felt wide awake. Could I have drifted off without realizing it?

  “Hey, it’s just me. Take it easy,” the voice behind me in the darkness protested. I felt the bed shift as he climbed in beside me.

  “W … who…” I stuttered, forcing myself to turn and face him. By the light of the full moon shining in through my window I saw the hawk-like features and deep brown eyes of the man in my dreams.

  “It’s me—Shadow,” he said a touch impatiently.

  “That’s the name of my dog,” I protested, feeling numb.

  “Exactly,” he answered, as though it was the most reasonable thing in the world. “I’m under a curse. I could explain but it’s a long story and thanks to your asshole of an ex-husband we don’t have much time.”

  “Much time for what?” I asked nervously. It occurred to me that I was naked and so was he. I sat up and pulled the covers up to my chin, hiding myself as well as I could.

  “Little late for that, don’t you think?” He smiled, a slow, knowing grin that made me blush from the tips of my toes to the roots of my hair.

  “I … I don’t know what you mean,” I said stiffly, gathering the sheet closer to my chest.

  “Oh, I think you do, Angelina,” he murmured. He scooted a little closer and I shrank back. The look on his face changed to one of concern. “Hey, I told you before I won’t hurt you.” He reached forward and brushed his fingertips across my cheek.

  The simple touch seemed to burn me. I wanted to pull back but I found myself leaning into the touch instead. His fingers trailed down and his large, warm hand caressed the side of my neck gently but with heat.

  “I knew you couldn’t forget last night,” he said, his voice a low, rough whisper. He licked his lips and stared at me through half-lidded eyes. “I can still taste you.”

  “Last night was a dream,” I whispered. The familiar scent of warm fur and musk filled my senses.

  “No dream,” he said, pulling me closer. Somehow I found myself in his arms and he was pulling the sheet away to press the hard, hot expanse of his chest against mine. “Beautiful,” he whispered, palming one of my breasts and twisting the nipple until a breathless moan escaped me.

  “I don’t even know you,” I said, tangling my fingers in his thick, silky hair.

  “That’s all right. I know you,” he replied and then his mouth was on mine, rough and gentle at the same time, demanding and caressing.

  I gave myself to the kiss utterly, losing myself in the feel of strong arms like flexible steel bands wrapped around me and the taste of his full mouth on mine. His hands roamed over my body, petting in long hot strokes down my back, sides, thighs. I knew it had to be a dream again, the same one I kept having over and over but still, it was the sweetest, most vivid dream I’d ever had and I wanted to lose myself in it and enjoy it.

  As if reading my mind he broke the kiss at last. Looking seriously into my eyes he whispered, “Still think it’s a dream?”

  I nodded, feeling too breathless to talk. My silent answer seemed to anger him somehow.

  “Do I have to prove how real this is? How real I am?” he half snarled. Before I could answer he had pulled me close again. There was nothing gentle about this second kiss. His mouth on mine was hard, demanding, and his hands on my body were more insistent, more intimately knowing. He proved his knowledge of me by the way he made me gasp and moan into his mouth while he pinched and twisted my nipples sending shocks of pleasure to the wet mound of my sex.

  I pulled away from the kiss with a gasp when I felt his fingers between my legs, spreading my thighs.

  “No,” I whispered, feeling open, vulnerable. I pressed back against the headboard, the cool wood chilly against my heated flesh.

  “Yes,” he said, his voice a low growl in my ear.

  I moaned helplessly as I felt his long, strong fingers spread my folds and invade my wet, slippery heat.

  “Does this feel like a dream?” he demanded, working his fingers slowly in and out of me as he had the night before while he’d licked and sucked my throbbing clit.

  “I … I don’t know,” I gasped, almost ashamed of the wanton way my body reacted to him. Even if it was only a dream, I had never been the type of woman to be vocal in bed and yet here I was gasping and moaning and writhing under his touch. I couldn’t help it anymore
than I’d been able to help it the night before when he tasted me.

  His dark eyes held mine as his fingers worked me. I could tell he was enjoying the uninhibited play of emotions over my face, could tell that he liked the fact that he was able to make me lose control.

  “That’s it, baby,” he murmured, rubbing one broad thumb over my swollen clit as he fucked me with his fingers. “Let it go … I love to watch you lose it.”

  The hot words and the intent look on his face coupled with the amazing sensations he was causing inside me pushed me over the edge. I squeezed my eyes shut as the first wave of orgasm hit me and a low, breathless moan left my lips. I felt my body contract around his invading fingers. He pulled me closer and nuzzled the side of my neck, licking and sucking at my throat, heightening the sensation of pleasure below my waist.

  “God … oh, God…” I gasped, when I could talk again.

  “Real enough for you?” His voice was ragged and low, and he didn’t wait for me to answer. He withdrew his fingers and pulled me up from where I was leaning against the headboard. In the moonlight his body looked as though it had been sculpted out of living copper. His dark eyes glowed like an animal’s and his thick hair fell straight and black as a raven’s wing to his broad shoulders. I wanted to feel it brush against my naked body, my quivering skin. His cock stood out thick and long and pulsing from his muscular thighs.

  “Get on your hands and knees for me,” he ordered.

  I didn’t even try to protest. Dream or no dream I wanted him inside me more than I had ever wanted anything before. I crouched before him on my hands and knees as he had directed and waited.

  “So beautiful,” he whispered, caressing my trembling back with one large, warm hand. “The arch of your back, the curve of your body, the way your breasts hang down like ripe fruit. I can’t wait to be inside you, baby.”

  I moaned, a soft, inarticulate plea.

 

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