She slid her nails into his hair, pushing at the back of his head, urging him to delve between her slit. He must’ve sensed her need because his tongue parted her lips and lapped at the fold of skin guarding her clit. The sizzling sensations his hungry mouth coaxed from her cunt left her gasping. Her nerves crackled, dancing with delight.
She draped her legs around his neck, trapping him with her thighs. Her hips grinded, forcing her pussy deep against his tongue as she rubbed her flavor all over his mouth. He moaned, and his groan buried itself deep in her stomach. He was enjoying her response. He wanted her to lose control to his nibbles and licks.
“Jude. Jude.” His name came deep from Raven’s throat, deeper than her normal tone, but his daring feast was maddening. He’d awoken her nerves. Coaxed to life electrifying sensations hissing under her skin.
An ache surfaced, a frantic need to claim him with her clit. She worked her hips in a deep circle, slathering her wet mess all over the skin around his mouth. He lapped faster, fierce licks while burying his tongue between her cunt lips.
She slapped her hand over her mouth before the scream hurled from her throat. The maddening pleasure was trolling up her spine and caressing her spread thighs. The ecstatic sensations swirled from inside, and a heady burst of pleasure claimed her.
She fucked his face, gasping and moaning while the electrical bliss draped her in silk. Her breathing skipped. Tiny pulsations continued to flutter around her clit.
“Jude...”
He was on top of her, pants yanked half down, melting his bare chest against her breasts. His cock slid inside her cunt, and she held tight as he fucked her hard and fast, his gorgeous ass rising and falling.
Chapter Twenty: Come on Over
Raven entered to the scent of sweetgrass filling the house. She shut the back door.
“Is that you?” Mom called out.
Stomach curling, Raven clutched her laptop case, duffel bag, and shopping bags. It was time to cough up a few lies.
“Hey.” She poked her head around the wall where the bathroom was located and into the small eat-in kitchen.
Mom sat in the living room in her favorite recliner, sewing a small piece of moose hide, probably for mittens or moccasins. “Did you drink? Use?”
“Um, no.”
“Don’t lie to me. You never wanted to go to the city. Why now? Especially during a busy time. Your brother was nominated on Monday, and you take off.”
“I went to get away... from this.” Raven stomped to her bedroom that was off the living room.
“Look at me.” Mom heaved her skinny body from the recliner.
Raven glared. “What?”
Hand on her stomach, Mom shuffled over, peering. “Okay. You’re fine. It’s only been a couple of years. And a lotta them never make it on the first try. Addicts are liars.”
A fire erupted in Raven’s chest. “Happy?”
Mom nodded. She turned back to the recliner. “You’re late. Why?”
“I can’t control the flight.” Raven headed into her room and shut the door.
There wasn’t a chance she’d be able to get the hell out of here. Yes, single parents and families came first for housing, but didn’t a person trying to get their lives back in order count, too?
The back door opened and slammed shut.
“She get home yet?” Clayton asked.
Raven rubbed her arms. Jude was probably settling in to a wonderful night with his kids after a weekend away—while she was stuck in the house of horror.
A knock on the door.
“Yes?”
“It’s me. Come have some tea.”
“Be right there.” Raven tossed her duffel bag on the bed. She scooped up her phone and headed into the kitchen.
Clayton yanked out a chair at the table.
Mom set the kettle on the stove.
“Did you buy anything then?” The studying stare in Clayton’s beady eyes was as scrutinizing as a coyote probing a rabbit.
“Buy what?”
“You said you were going to the city to buy stuff for the campaign.” Annoyance crept into Clayton’s words.
Mom dashed from the stove and got in Raven’s face, peering at her eyes.
“I wasn’t using.” Suffocation tightened around Raven, and she pushed away. “I wanted some time alone. Okay?”
“Why?” Hands on hips, Mom leaned in again, eyeballs almost popping from their sockets from her microscopic stare.
“Because I’m thirty-one and I need space. Can’t I get away for some me time?”
“Me time?” Mom huffed and clenched her fists. “You spent how many years in Winnipeg enjoying your me time while your brother and sisters did what they’re supposed to do. Looking after this reserve and keeping our culture alive. It’s always about you. You. You. You. When are you gonna start thinking about others instead of what you want?”
“What?” Raven couldn’t believe this woman. “I help lots of people. You just don’t see it.”
“And who do you help? It’s your brother who helps. He helps everyone as a band councilor.”
“You all get paid when you help.” The words burst from Raven’s mouth.
“Paid?” Mom wrapped the table. “That is the old way. You received something if you gave your time. Elders received blankets and food for their advice. Medicine men were brought gifts as payment.”
“And the most revered of the band were those who gave away what they had. The more they gave, the more they were honored for their generosity. The chief was the poorest in the community because he cared for those in need. Everyone went to him for help if they had nowhere to go.” Hot anger pounded in Raven’s throat.
“And daughters listened to their mothers.” Clayton’s tone was the same one when he used to admonish Raven as a child. “Show some respect.”
“I’m trying to...” For cripe sake, they never wanted to hear what she had to say. All they gave a shit about was telling her what to do, and what not to do. “But you’re making this hard for me. All everyone does is belittle me.”
“You brought this on yourself when you shamed us by becoming the cliché drunken loose Indian.” Mom scowled.
Pain closed in around Raven’s heart. The knife cut deep into her belly. She turned and fled to the bedroom to grab her parka and mukluks.
Raven had spent the last hour out in the cold, walking the roads and puffing on the vape. She’d made the ten-minute walk to downtown. Three houses away was Jude’s place. Not even the lovely scent of burning wood coming from the chimneys of the many houses could produce a glimmer in her gray chest.
She typed in the message on her phone.
What’s up?
Working. Finally got the kids in bed. What about you?
She furiously typed back...
I had a fight with my family.
I’m sorry to hear that. What happened?
Same bullshit.
Her phone rang. She checked the caller. It was Jude. He did care. She was more than a weekend guest. Hands shaking, she pressed the button. Jude’s face appeared on the screen.
“What’s going on?” Concern filled his gaze and voice.
“Like I said, the same bullshit that’s been going on since I was born.”
“Are you outside?” He looked to be trying to peer behind her.
“Yes.”
Jude frowned. “Why don’t you come over? I don’t want you standing out in the cold.”
“I’m used to the cold.” At least the icy air had chilled Raven’s hot anger.
“Yeah, everyone is, but you walked from Old Main. How long have you been outside?”
“About an hour.”
Jude kept frowning. “C’mon over. I’ll turn off the outside light so nobody sees you. The kids are asleep. I’ll make some tea.”
“I can’t come over. Downtown’s busier than the Trans Canada.”
“It’s also nine o’clock. Come
over. Now.” He disappeared from the screen.
Raven shoved the cell phone into her pocket and inched down the road. She glanced around. Everyone was still at bingo. She had time to sneak over without anyone seeing. Nobody was peering out their windows, either.
Bursting into a sprint, she darted up Jude’s driveway. Thank goodness there were no streetlights like in the towns and cities. She shimmied up the steps just as Jude opened the back door. He put his finger over his lips.
How were they supposed to talk? Most of the reserve houses were built the same. Open kitchen and living room facing the front of the house and the bedrooms at the back.
“C’mon in.”
Raven entered to much-needed warmth and the lovely scent of a fire burning in the woodstove. She stood beside the bathroom door.
“We can talk in there.” Jude pointed.
“The bathroom?” Raven mouthed. It was the farthest room from the children’s bedrooms, since the main bedroom door opened into the kitchen. This was too much like her using days. Everything had occurred in a place meant for showering and other personal stuff.
She didn’t dare stamp her mukluks. While Jude disappeared around the corner, Raven eased into the tidy room no different than the one she used at home.
Jude reentered and closed the door behind him. They were squished. Bathrooms weren’t that big in band-owned homes. Only enough to hold the tub, a toilet, and a vanity wide enough to fit the sink.
He held out the mug and leaned against the towels folded over the rack. Raven squashed against the vanity. She wouldn’t sit on the toilet, although it’d give her more room.
“What’s up?” He sipped his tea.
This was stupid. She’d made a big deal out of nothing. “I feel like I overreacted now.”
“What’s going on?” He raised his hand and stroked her chin.
This man could do anything to melt her into a pile of goo. Even a simple reassuring brushing of his finger uncoiled the knots that had frozen her shoulders after the latest family feud.
“The same bullshit.” Why couldn’t she come out and say it? The recovery program had taught her to speak about her feelings. A person was only as sick as their secrets, she’d heard too many times.
“Out with it.” Jude’s order was a silken whisper sliding along Raven’s ear.
His comforting gaze caressed her cheekbones, coaxing her to trust him. “I just want their respect. I know I screwed up bad—”
“Who’s respect?” Jude asked in a soothing tone.
“Mom’s. Clayton’s. My sisters’.” Raven shrugged.
“And why’s their respect important?”
“They’ve never given me any.” The walls were bare. Nothing hung yet. Not even the sprinkle if you tinkle sign.
“Look at me.” His order was a gentle prodding.
Raven returned her gaze to his dark eyes full of compassion. “I feel stupid talking about this. Like some whiny kid.”
“There’s nothing wrong with what you’re feeling. Who doesn’t want their family’s respect?”
“I’ve always been the fuck-up,” she whispered. “Bringing home bad grades. Barely passing before I dropped out of school. Getting into trouble. Maybe I came along too late? Maybe after raising four kids on her own, another baby was too much for Mom? I dunno.”
“Emery was a bonus baby. That didn’t stop Mom from raising him properly.”
Raven bristled. “Your mom wasn’t a single mother.”
“No, she wasn’t, and she stayed home, but a mother’s a mother. Get it?”
True. Just because a woman worked full-time didn’t give her an excuse to be short-tempered with a child. Raven hadn’t asked to be born. Maybe Mom should take some responsibility.
“Is that why you started using drugs?”
“I was sick of... sick of being at home. Sick of Mom always bitching me out. Nothing I did pleased her. Ever. It’s like she hated me from the moment she conceived me. She probably spit on me after she gave birth to me.” A scowl burned in Raven’s chest.
Jude’s eyes widened. “Hey, I wouldn’t go that far—”
“I’m not kidding. Really, I’m not. And I wanted out. Y’know? I wanted to be like any other girl I saw on TV. Winnipeg was fun—for a time. Lots of guys. Lots of partying. The first five years there I had a blast. Then I started hanging around the Winnipeg Warriors...”
“Is that when you got into the heavy stuff?”
Holding his stare wasn’t easy. Raven’s brain screamed to lower her gaze to the floor, but she kept her chin lifted. “Yeah, they introduced me to every drug you can think of. When I met heroin, I couldn’t believe the feeling it gave me.” She bit down on her lip. “I know I screwed up. I know I spent too much time feeling sorry for myself. I’ve been in the program for two and a half years. I’ve heard it all from the older members.
“I’m making myself the center of the universe again. Poor Raven. Her family doesn’t believe in her. Her family treats her like a fuck-up. Center of self leads to relapses. And lately that’s what I’ve been doing. Worrying about how my family treats me. Trying to suck respect from a stone.”
“You said a stone. So you don’t think it’s possible to gain their respect?” Concern continued to fill Jude’s gaze.
“The program teaches us to use action instead of words. We’re supposed to show them we’ve changed, because by the time we get sober, the family is sick of us. Sick of our disease. Whatever comes out of our mouths they don’t believe because they’ve heard our lies in the past.”
“What do you think should be your priority? What would the program tell you to do?”
“It’d tell me to go to meetings, keep working my steps, leave everything in the hands of my higher power, and help other addicts.”
“Then maybe that’s what you should do. You can’t change how people think. You can’t force them to respect you. All you can do is keep doing what you’re doing. And what you’re doing is a good thing. You’re working toward your high school diploma. You’re working full-time at Kiss the Cook. You’re helping other addicts. You’re opening the recovery meetings twice a week. Maybe that’s what you’re meant to do.”
Everything Jude said was right.
“I think you’re a winner.” Jude set the cup on the vanity. He placed Raven’s cup beside his. She was drawn into his arms, swaddled in warmth cozier than a big blanket in front of the woodstove.
His lips brushed her forehead.
“Thanks,” she murmured. The thick weight on her chest lightened. Talking had helped. Marty from the program was famous for saying share your problem and you got half a problem. “Ever since I met you, you’re helping me see different things. You’re such a great listener.”
“No, thank you. I guess I wasn’t the greatest listener during my marriage. Maybe you’re helping me learn how to really hear someone.” He nuzzled her hair.
“Something your ex-wife said?”
“Yep.”
“You always listen to me. You’re a wonderful listener.” He was. Nobody had taken the time to hear her out until Jude. The people in the twelve-step program didn’t count, because that was one of their purposes for attending meetings.
She was supposed to start campaigning for Clayton, but did he even deserve to be chief? Before Jude, she wouldn’t have questioned her brother leading the community. But if Clayton didn’t become chief, she didn’t get a diner.
* * * *
Jude stood at the living room window. He couldn’t see Raven’s slim silhouette on the road anymore. Not that he hadn’t seen her when she’d left his back door and vanished into the night moments ago. But she was out there, somewhere, starting home.
The bedroom door squeaked. “Dad?”
For a second, Jude’s breath vanished. He always shut the kids’ doors until he went to bed so the TV wouldn’t bother them. When he turned in for the night, he opened their doors to allow them to experience th
e full heat from the woodstove.
He whipped about on his heel. “You’re supposed to be asleep.”
“I’m not feeling good.” Rebekah’s voice sounded whiny, like it did whenever she was ill.
“Did you not feel good when you saw Mom?” Jude strode over and pressed the back of his hand against her forehead. She was warm.
“No. I was fine.” Rebekah cuddled up to him. Her small head rested against his stomach. “Who was here?”
The blood drained from Jude’s veins. “Wh-what?”
“The lady in the bathroom. I went there. You two were talking.”
“Oh... uh...” Jude gulped for air. “Yes, that was a student. She was having homework problems. I didn’t want to wake you two, so I asked her if we could speak in the bathroom.”
“She sounded sad. Did she feel better when she left?” Rebekah’s big blue eyes peered at him—her mother’s almond-shaped, striking eyes set off dramatically by reddish-brown Ojibway coloring. She was even petite like Charlene.
“Yes. She felt better. I’ll see her Tuesday night at class.”
“You’re not gonna work late again?” Rebekah’s girlish voice was begging. “I missed you.”
Jude patted the back of Rebekah’s head. Guilt pricked the back of his neck. Yes, he’d thought about the kids while in Thunder Bay, but he’d enjoyed himself immensely. And while he’d been having a great time, his baby girl’s heart had cracked from loneliness.
“You were with Mom. Didn’t that make you happy?”
Rebekah shrugged. She kept her face buried in Jude’s stomach.
“C’mon. You can tell me anything.” Jude kept rubbing the back of her head.
“It’s not the same.”
“What’s not the same?”
“Mom. Mr. Baker. I don’t think she’s happy. She looks sad sometimes. Maybe you can come next time? She was always happy with you.” Rebekah peered up at him.
Huh? He’d made his ex-wife so miserable she’d had an affair, actively pursued a man who’d been trying to date Bridget at the time. “Remember what I told you about grown-ups? That we can be sad like you get sad. We can be confused like you can be confused. Mom’s going through a lot of changes right now. When you visit her, it makes her happy, because she loves you two.”
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