Chapter Five
Noises in the night
The moment was perfect. I closed my eyes and just enjoyed it for a while. When I opened them again Ozzy was looking at me. He began rubbing my rain streaked mascara out from underneath my eyes and seemed to be very relieved when I looked up at him and blinked.
He smiled. “You okay?”
I nodded.
He sighed loudly and a tension I hadn’t previously noticed seemed to slip from his shoulders.
“Had me worried for a minute.”
I’ve always heard that people show you who they really are during sex. Maybe Ozzy was just a little bit insecure at letting me see the real him. My legs were still wrapped around his waist and he was still partially inside of me. Oz never broke eye contact as he lowered me to the ground, but didn’t quite let go. My knees weren’t exactly what they should be.
He finally took a step away from me and started picking up our scattered clothes. His pants were still around his knees. He pulled them up, but left them open as he collected our things. The smile on his face seemed to express what I was feeling. Who’d have thought that we would ever have sex?
Well, the whole town thought it, but not us. It was funny. There we stood, myself wearing only a black lace bra and him with his pants pulled up but still unzipped, soaked to the bone and freezing. He looked hot. I probably looked like a drowned rat with my goose bumps, wet hair and smeared mascara.
It was like he read my mind and wanted to get rid of any insecurities I might have.
“You look sexy when you’re wet,” he said.
Ozzy put his arm around me and we walked toward the porch. Just as he turned the lock in the door we both froze.
“Did you hear that?” he asked.
We looked back toward the SUV, to the spot where we’d both been standing only moments before and saw what looked like a large black dog. Only it was much too big to be a dog. Its golden eyes glowed in the darkness and I practically clawed the paint off the door to get inside.
“Hurry up,” Ozzy said, pushing me in ahead of him.
He slammed the door and locked it behind us, tossing my keys onto the nearby table.
“What the fuck was that?” I asked.
It was the first time I had ever seen him look rattled. Ozzy ran a hand through his wet hair and walked into the living room as he spoke.
“I don’t know if you’ve ever seen a werewolf in person before. But if I had to make a guess, that would be mine.”
“A w-werewolf? You think there’s a werewolf in my front yard?”
Since they’d come out a few years ago I hadn’t seen one. To my knowledge there were no werewolves in Southern Mississippi. Then again, I didn’t exactly hang out with the kind of people who would know about such things.
Ozzy was in my home often enough to know where I kept everything. He went down the hall to the guest bathroom and came back with a couple of towels. One he draped over his shoulders, the other he wrapped around me.
“Come here,” he said softly. I was still shivering as Oz hugged me to him.
“Shouldn’t we call somebody? I mean, isn’t there a place you’re supposed to report werewolf sightings?”
“What if he was just out for a stroll and we sic the hunters on him? Besides, he’s probably gone by now.”
“You’re sure that’s what it was?”
He nodded. “Fairly certain, yes.”
“Doesn’t that bother you?”
He smiled. “I told you, I’m a sociopath. Why don’t we take a hot shower? That should warm you up.”
“Lead the way.” As I followed Ozzy upstairs to my bedroom I asked, “What does it mean exactly when you say that you’re a sociopath? I’ve heard the term, but I don’t really understand it.”
“Well, I’m not going to start killing people or anything like that.”
“I never thought you would.” If I had to make a list of people most likely to do such things, he would have been the very last one on the list.
“I believe my mother’s shrink described me as ‘lacking the basic ability to feel guilt or remorse of any kind’ and ‘with a limited range of emotional capabilities’.”
“Really?”
He paused at the top of the stairs and looked down at me.
“I’ve never told anyone before.”
I placed my hand on his chest and felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “You don’t seem incapable of feeling to me.”
He laughed. “I am capable of feeling. I just have a limited emotional range. It’s the reason that I don’t date much, that I’m not married and that you are my closest friend.”
Ozzy turned toward my bedroom and I hurried to keep up.
“What has me being your closest friend got to do with having limited emotions?”
He paused in the doorway to my bathroom and smiled. “You never ask nosy questions. You’re the perfect friend for someone who doesn’t know how to give answers.”
I was still shivering when I walked over and closed the toilet so that I could sit down. Oz turned on the shower while he continued to talk.
“Let me give you an example. Like tonight, when you said you wanted to fuck me. Well, that’s fine by me. The fact that you don’t want to date me doesn’t hurt my feelings at all. Your choices are perfectly logical. You needed relief and I’m glad to provide it.”
It just dawned on me what Ozzy was trying to describe. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t seen it before.
“Oh my God, you’re like one of those androids in a sci-fi movie. You base your decisions on logic and what you think people want to hear.”
He smiled. “Exactly. I’m also fully functional.”
My laughter echoed in the large bathroom. “But you have a sense of humor.”
“A very dry one.”
“Well, that could just make you British, not sociopathic.”
At this he laughed too. Oz helped me to my feet and pulled off my towel.
“When I’m with you, it’s the closest I’ve ever come to being…real. You make me feel normal. I hope I haven’t said anything that upsets you.”
I shook my head. “You’re still Ozzy to me, nothing will change that. Hell, I’m not sure I would know normal if it slapped me in the face.”
*
After a hot shower we each changed into one of my bathrobes. Ozzy took the black one and I wore the red. He was busy building a fire in the hearth near the foot of the bed when I told him, “I don’t normally bite people.”
He laughed. “Why not?”
“Oz, I’m serious. I don’t usually act the way I did tonight. Having sex where people might see, clawing, growling, talking to you the way I did. I just don’t behave like that.”
He tossed another log on the fire and stood up. He seemed to be considering my words as he came over and sat with me on the edge of the mattress.
“Maybe it was because you didn’t have to worry about hurting my feelings.”
“I wasn’t worried, but I think it was more than that. Something just…came over me.”
“Well, from what you’ve told me it has been a while. Maybe you were just overdue.” After a minute he asked, “Do you want me to stay tonight, or should I go?”
“Stay,” I answered, looping my arm through his. “I’m afraid to sleep after seeing that thing outside. Besides, I couldn’t send you out in this storm, even if I hadn’t seen that…”
“Werewolf,” he supplied. “I really think it was a werewolf.”
I scooted back on the pillows and my robe fell open.
“That must be the tattoo you were telling me about. Can I look?”
“Sure.”
Oz leaned over me carefully before lying down between my legs. Even though the contact was very intimate, it didn’t feel sexual. He traced his fingertips across the stem of the rose on my right hipbone and smiled.
“You have the stem pointing at your bush on purpose?”
I laughed. “It’s not really a bush
.”
He observed my pubic hair more closely and agreed. “You’re right. It’s more of a landing strip. But the stem is still pointing at your pussy.”
I reached down and tousled his hair. “I think I understand now why I can say anything to you.”
“Why is that?”
“Because it doesn’t matter to you one way or the other what I say. Nothing upsets you.”
“You matter to me and that’s why I listen.”
I ruffled his hair again. “Thanks, Oz.”
He crawled up beside me and I rested my head against his chest.
“Are there a lot of gravediggers in this area?” I asked.
Gravediggers are what people call those who date vampires or werewolves or other creatures of the night just because they get off on it. Fang bait was the generally accepted term for those who preferred vampires. But gravedigger was an all-inclusive term for those who sought preternatural company.
Ozzy pulled back to look down at me. “Why would you ask me something like that?”
I shrugged. “Because I figured you would know.”
Without hesitation he answered, “There are more than you think.”
“Are there werewolves in Southern Mississippi, besides the one we saw tonight?”
“Yes.”
I wasn’t sure what scared me more, his answer or the fact that he was so sure of it. About that time I heard something over the sound of the rain.
“What was that?”
I lifted up and turned to face the french doors. The curtains were still open. When I slid off the bed to have a look Oz followed me.
“What did you hear?”
“It sounded like a big machine, like a tractor or something.”
I pressed up against the glass, cupping my hands to try to see past the rain.
“There’s something in my neighbor’s yard, but I can’t make it out.”
Ozzy leaned over me and stood there for what seemed like several minutes. I was about to give up and go back to bed when he said, “It’s a backhoe. He’s digging a huge hole beside his house. It looks about…” He paused. “Thirty by thirty and close to ten feet deep.”
“Good grief. He’s been digging something out there since he moved in.”
“When was that?”
“Three weeks ago.”
Ozzy looked up toward the sky, but the only thing visible was rain. Apparently, that wasn’t what he wanted to see.
“Who is he?”
“I don’t know, but I watch him every morning.”
Oz was the only man I could have sex with and then make a confession like that. It didn’t seem to faze him in the slightest.
“You watch him dig? Why?”
“Because he works without a shirt and he looks damn good in jeans.”
Ozzy laughed and finally turned back to face me. “He’s probably just digging a wine cellar.”
“A wine cellar? And that’s so important that he has to work at midnight in the rain? Bullshit.”
“Well, that’s how mine was built. Not in the rain, of course, but my wine cellar was dug the same way and connected through a tunnel to the house basement.”
“Or it could be a storm shelter,” I suggested. “We do get a lot of hurricanes here.”
“It could be anything,” he agreed.
“But you don’t believe that.” It wasn’t a question.
“No, and neither do you.”
*
About three o’clock I woke up dying of thirst. I was going to ask if Ozzy wanted anything while I was up, but he was sleeping soundly. When I got to the kitchen I found myself gravitating toward the french doors rather than the refrigerator. My neighbor was nowhere to be seen. I guess he’d finished. There was also no sign of wolves or big dogs or anything else.
It was odd for houses to be as close as ours were, at least around here. From what my grandpa said, years ago this land used to belong to one person, but he decided to sell the lot in two pieces. On the other side of my neighbor’s lot there was nothing but woods for miles, same thing on the other side of mine. There was a paved road that ran about fifty feet in front of our houses and on the other side of the road was a farm. Whoever originally purchased the land must have been good friends to build their houses so close together. A school teacher had lived beside me before Mr. Sexy. He got transferred to another district. The teacher was cute, quiet and occasionally would come to my barbeques.
I shook my head as I remembered how jealous James got every time I talked to him. He said he was “after me”. Well, the teacher wasn’t after me…but I found myself wishing that this new man was. And I didn’t even know his name.
Thunder rumbled in the distance and from the sound of it there would be more rain coming. The lightning storm was fantastic. I hadn’t seen one like it in a while. But no matter how great it was, I couldn’t pull my mind away from thoughts of my neighbor and the werewolf I’d seen earlier. Was he okay? Did the werewolf hurt him or just go on about its business? And why hadn’t my neighbor noticed me?
I walked to the sink and poured a glass of water.
“No one is after you,” I said to myself. Honestly I couldn’t decide if I was relieved or disappointed by that thought.
There is a bay window in front of the sink, the short kind with a shelf to put plants and such. I had left the blinds open and was watching the lightning when I heard someone enter the kitchen. He put his arms around me and rubbed provocatively against my ass.
“What are you doing awake, Oz?”
He pressed his face against mine, brushing back the hair so that he could touch his lips to my cheek. His voice was soft when he answered, “You’re wrong.”
“What do you mean?”
“I am after you,” he whispered.
I can’t put into words how sexy that was. He reached to cup my breast and whispered, “Please.” Damn that was hot. I’d never had anyone ask quite that way for my affections before. And Oz had never really asked me for anything at all. It was his only request and I didn’t want to say no.
Chapter Six
Smoke rings in the dark
He reached around and pulled the tie on my robe. As it fell to the floor he pressed his cock up against my ass at the same time he pushed me gently forward, bending me over the sink.
“Stand on my feet,” he said.
I did as he instructed and Ozzy moved to spread my legs. Though he entered me slowly this time, he quickly picked up the pace. I’d done it in the kitchen before, but never like this right against the kitchen sink. Ozzy ran his hand up through the back of my hair and pulled it tight like I had done to him before.
I gasped and he said, “Do you like that?”
“Yes. Pull it hard.”
He thrust into me again as he pulled back on my hair and I shuddered. This was exactly what I needed. Nothing like some good hot sex to make you feel better. Or so Justina always said.
“Anything else you’d like?” he asked.
“Squeeze my throat just a little bit.”
I had never asked a man to choke me before, but I’d fantasized about it. Besides, I was in the mood to try something new. The fact that it also scared me made it even more arousing.
“I won’t hurt you,” Oz said as his big hand closed over my windpipe.
“You’ve done this before?” I whispered.
“Yes.”
He just seemed to know what I wanted and how I wanted it. Maybe he was that good at reading people or maybe he had just paid very close attention whenever we’d talked about sexual preferences. Everybody who has close friends talks about sex with them. It’s just a natural thing that people do. Either way, it didn’t take him long to bring me to the verge of another screaming orgasm.
“I’m going to come.”
He applied just enough pressure to make me feel dizzy, but not enough to make me pass out. I came so hard that my knees buckled and only the force of his body pressing me against the sink held me up.
&n
bsp; Just as Ozzy came too an ear splitting howl broke through the storm. We both went still, listening to see if it happened again. There was a crash and a yelp.
“It came from next door,” I said.
We both scrambled to the window, pulling on our robes as we went. There stood my neighbor bare-chested, his wet skin glistening in the faint light of the moon. He looked like he was breathing hard, but didn’t appear to be injured.
“Should I say something?” I asked.
Lightning flashed and he looked right at us. I flinched, but Oz stood his ground.
“I wouldn’t go out tonight,” he said. “Asking him tomorrow will make you look like a concerned neighbor. And it will give you a chance to find out his name.”
Ozzy put his hand on my shoulder and gently ushered me back upstairs. Once we reached the stairs he realized that I forgot my water and went back and got it for me. I was glad to have him there. I wasn’t afraid of my neighbor, but I certainly was shaken up by the thought of a werewolf being outside.
“Thanks.” I took the water and sipped it while we walked back to the bedroom.
I set the empty glass on the bedside table and decided I needed one more trip to the bathroom before going to sleep again. When I came out I found Oz sprawled across the covers and looking a little nervous. Now that he’d explained his emotional issues to me, it made perfect sense that he never overreacted. Sometimes, he didn’t react at all. Still, I gave him a questioning look. I hadn’t figured him for the type to lie in bed and fidget.
“I need a cigarette,” he explained.
I laughed. “I had forgotten you smoked, you don’t do it that often.”
Most people who saw Ozzy smoking thought his habits were odd. He smokes cigarettes using one of those little clips to keep the tar from staining his fingers.
“You could always go on the porch,” I offered.
Ozzy’s laughter was soft. “I don’t need a smoke that bad.”
As I snuggled up next to him I recalled the last time I had seen Ozzy smoking at night. He knew how to blow those delicate little smoke rings I found so fascinating. I liked to sit on the porch with him some nights and just watch them float into the dark. As I breathed in his familiar scent and drifted toward sleep, those memories got mixed in with others. A jumble of things ran through my mind. Memories of coffee and conversations with Ozzy were now combined with some of the best sex I’d had in years.
Sex Symbol Page 4