Once past the doorway, she leaned against the wall to bolster her resolve and listen for sounds of movement. There were none. Sucking in her breath, she tapped lightly on the door on the left. No response. She tapped louder.
"Who’s there?"
"Jan Harding, Bull. Mitch’s girlfriend." She glanced up and down the hall, expecting other doors to open, but none did. As far as she knew, the two of them were alone.
Her knees shook as she heard a shuffling of feet on the other side. The door opened and Bull stood sleepy-eyed on the threshold. His shiny head jerked with recognition; a sly smile skipped across his mouth. Beady eyes slithered down her body, then slowly back up, the disappointment obvious. "You look different."
"Can I come in?"
"Sure." He stood back allowing her to enter, then closed the door softly. "Mitch know you’re here?"
"No." She hated the gleam in his eyes. When he strutted a peacock walk to his desk, she focused on the chain securing his keys to his belt loop.
"Where’s your pup?"
"He stayed home."
"Shudda brought him. Have a seat." He kicked at a chair in front of his desk.
As she slipped into the seat offered, her eyes darted around the drab room taking in the coffee machine and the dog-eared magazines on a shelf, a rack of biker clothes, and the unmade cot.
"What brings you here?"
"I want to do business. Mitch said you were the one to see." The new flash of brightness in his eyes gave her the creeps. He was obviously curious, but she got the impression a sarcastic laugh lingered behind the tight mouth. Her temperature shot up.
"Mitch told you that, eh?"
"Yes. He seems to think highly of you. Have you been friends long?"
"No, ma’am. Fact is we only met a few months ago."
"Then you don’t know much more about him than I do." So Mitch had lied about them being school chums.
"I expect from what he’s told me, you know a hell of a lot more about him, ma’am."
Acid burned in her throat.
Bull leaned back and swiveled his chair. "Mitch has done a lot of good work for me. Has he told you much about us?"
"Only that you ride together, and also that you have friends with well-developed skills."
"Like what?"
"Skills for creating counterfeit identification documents." Her back was so rigid she was afraid her spine would crack from the pressure.
Bull thumped his elbows on the table’s hard surface and rested his chin on his palms. His grimy fingers splayed against his cheeks. "You want fake IDs?"
Jen wiggled to the edge of her chair; her hands fidgeted with the raised paisley design of the shoulder bag on her lap. "I need a birth certificate, driver’s license, and social insurance card. Oh yes, a university arts degree certificate."
"Jeez, you don’t want much. That’ll cost ya plenty."
"Er... how much?" The stifling heat agitated the pulsating throb in her head. The putrid stink of his sweated-out booze and cigarettes churned her already tight stomach.
"Money a problem?"
"It could be. How much?" She struggled to keep her voice steady; her eyes fixed on the sleazy character in front. His open leather vest exposed a carpet of tight graying curls on his chest and dragon tattooed arms. The gold cross on a chain around his neck brought her fingers to a standstill. Goosebumps erupted on her forearms. Her eyes then centered on the three gold earrings pierced in one ear. They reminded her of Mitch. Bull’s tobacco-stained yellow teeth dismissed Mitch from her mind, and as he grinned at her scrutiny, she felt very alone.
"I might cut a deal for a friend of Mitch’s. How soon do you want them?" Bull stretched out his tight-leathered legs and curled his lip as he leaned back to light a cigarette.
"Right away."
He took several puffs and stared at the ceiling before he again acknowledged her presence. Her hands filmed with perspiration.
"The cost would depend on what I see fit to charge. It could be a lot or it could cost nothing. Depends on you."
Jen watched each slow ring of smoke he blew into the air, each raise of his brow. The thug obviously expected her to grovel. Instead, her temper flared. "Are we going to play games, or are you going to get to the point?"
"A little too sassy for your own good, ain’t you?"
"I don’t have time to waste. I can go elsewhere."
Bull sat up straight. "Have you got the information with you?"
"Yes." She hauled a paper from her purse, leaving the zipper undone.
Bull scanned the page. "Looks straightforward enough. If I put a rush on it, we could have them ready tomorrow morning at ten."
Jen held back the gasp whirling up her throat. "So soon?" she managed.
He nodded. "Now we have to discuss payment."
Her breath locked in her lungs as his eyes fixed on her chest. "You know you were hot-lookin’ stuff when you were here with Mitch. We might work a trade."
"Like what?"
"I could find you some work around here in the evenings. Maybe even a little personal attention to me might get you a discount."
"Sorry, but Mitch wouldn’t approve."
"Ah yes. We must watch out for Mitch." Bull shuffled his feet, the noise serving to accelerate her jitters. "I’ll tell you what; I like your dog. What’s his name?"
"Spooky."
"I’ll consider Spooky as payment."
Her mouth dropped and this time a gasp did escape. "Why would you want a puppy tying you down, especially a runt like Spooky?"
"I had a mutt that looked exactly like him when I was a kid. My old man got drunk one night and kicked him to death. I don’t think I ever got over it. Years later, when I got big enough, I paid that bastard back."
She didn’t want to know how. "Well, he means a lot to me, I hate to give him up."
"And what do the IDs mean?"
She knew immediately what they meant. They meant freedom to get on with her life.
~ * ~
"Dammit, her car’s gone." Mitch mounted Jen’s porch steps and rushed across the new floor. The door was locked. "Calm down, Spooky. I’ll let you out."
He went around to her bedroom window, raised it and climbed in. It didn’t make sense that she didn’t have it locked, but on checking, he saw the catch was broken off. Spooky pounced on the bed, tail wagging, eyes sparking his welcome.
"I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me where she went."
Spooky yipped excitedly.
"No, I thought not. You and your mistress keep things close to your chests." He grinned when he thought of Jen’s tempting breasts. "Okay, you can spend time with me. Let’s hope she comes back before I leave."
The two of them strolled the trail, one leaping for joy, the other keeping an eye out for traffic--a small wayward car. They played fetch-the-stick until Spooky got the hang of returning his treasure to Mitch’s feet. "I hate to admit it, Spooks, but you’re smart for a puny pooch. Okay, we’ll go back and you can stay at my place till she gets home."
The sun had just dipped below the horizon when he heard her car. Perched on the top step of his cottage, he decided to wait and see if she’d come over in search of the pup. She did. He heard the snap of branches as she pushed through the trees. An artificial half-smile appeared on her face. Once she nodded a greeting to him, it changed to a frown.
"Did Spooky break out or did you break in?" She bent and patted the little dog’s head when he pawed at her ankles.
Mitch raised both hands in defense. "I’m the guilty one. He wasn’t happy being left on his own. He didn’t know why you didn’t take him along."
"He would have been a nuisance."
"You had errands?"
"Yes."
After a brief pause, he could see the topic was closed, so to lighten her mood, he asked, "How’s your back?"
"It was acting up so I popped some aspirins. The pain is gone, but I’ll call it an early night and go to bed."
"I’ve go
t some fresh coffee ready. Want some?"
She looked back at her cabin, then sank to the bottom step and nodded. "The weather’s turning cooler."
"Come on inside, no sense getting chilled."
Her eyebrows lifted, but she followed him.
Mitch tried to be nonchalant while he busied himself getting their hot drinks--something was different. She was tense, touchy enough to erupt into flame. And quiet. Too quiet.
Jen picked Spooky up and ran her cheek along his neck, holding on to him as if he’d try to escape her affection. She walked around the computer and stared at the desktop. She even bent down and fiddled with the mouse, but didn’t aim it at the monitor. Good thing too, he’d been in the chat room earlier and it could be easily opened by clicking on the icon at the bottom of the screen.
He’d just sat there reading the gibberish others put through, not participating. One move of the mouse and she’d be able to figure out he was Nightspook. Damn. He held his breath, then distracted her by saying, "Okay, here we are, strong enough to keep nightmares away."
"And sleep, too, I imagine." She still didn’t crack a smile but set the pup down and accepted the mug. "Thanks." She avoided his eyes. "This might perk me up." She sauntered to the living room window and looked out.
"You need perking up?" It was a thread on her emotion he could tug and perhaps learn more. He sat on the couch and patted the space next to him.
She turned and accepted his invitation. "I’m tired, I guess."
"You know, I think a fire might be nice right now. Just a second." He lit the stacked logs interlaced with kindling and paper. It blazed with a heart-warming crackle. After switching on the stereo, he joined her. On close inspection, moisture glistened in her eyes, puzzling him. Her body stiffened. Mitch wondered what he could do to put her in a relaxed mode if the soft music didn’t work.
"Is there anything you want to tell me, Jen?"
"No. Should there be?"
He sighed and slumped against the back, crossing his feet. "I sometimes get the impression we’re playing cat and mouse."
"That’s odd. So do I." She smiled this time and his heart thumped with the small inroad he’d made. Stupid that her every nuance affected him so. She shifted her body to sit further back at an easy eye level with him. He searched for something earth-moving to say. He was using her, and with his guilt snagged on his strong emotions he was tongue-tied. Not understanding the reason for it, her new defeatist attitude worried him. An idea struck, and he didn’t stop to fight it down or consider the consequences. "Care to dance?"
Her eyes widened. He expected her to crush his ego by telling him he was crazy for even thinking of such close contact. But she placed her mug on the coffee table and stood immediately. Jen sunk into his arms like she’d been born there. Spooky parked by the fire and watched the flickers of light lick up the chimney wall. His tail and ears twitched each time sparks exploded.
Mitch’s longing for something more stable returned as his arms wrapped around her. He burrowed his nose in her hair. Pliant and soft, she snuggled into his chest. Her body glided like a feather drifting on a summer’s breeze. As they danced around the room, he lost his sense of place and circumstance. He could abandon the outside world with someone like her.
They blended well together as they waltzed and simply enjoyed the moment. When she lifted her face to make a comment, his mouth automatically reached for her lips. Not expecting to be welcomed, he held back, tentative, restrained, but her lips brushed willingly against his. He responded by pressing harder as they swayed in time to the slow beat. Her curves molded to his frame--her passion to his heart.
Fixed with an embrace in the center of the room, the firelight danced and leaped, casting their silhouettes onto the golden knotty pine walls. Their two shadows melded as one.
"How far do you want to take this?" he whispered.
"I’m not sure."
"Then why don’t we take it one step at a time?"
"No expectations?"
"No expectations here. Want to go up to the loft to have our no expectations?"
She nodded. Her eyes held mystery, but a gleam sparkled as well. "Yes," she purred. Jen led the way up the staircase in a deliberate climb, not checking to see if he followed. He trailed her--he had to.
They lay on the mattress, side by side. Mitch reached up and flicked the switch; the skylight opened. The night exploded--its velvet backdrop alive with twinkling stars that flaunted their silent splendor. The full moon beamed its light onto their faces. Mitch slid his arm beneath her neck and pulled her to him. Her hand fell upon his chest. Her heat sped straight to the core of his body. He was shocked that he could feel so intense, so loving, so wanting to give. Give of himself in a way he’d never before experienced. He could barely force himself to speak. "Jen, is this okay with you?"
"It’s more than okay. I had to see this sight, this way, before I..."
"Before you what?"
"Before I... grow old." She laughed, but her laughter faded when she saw his frown.
He struggled against a flood of testosterone induced urges, knowing if he let them gain control she’d run. This had to be in her time.
"Love me, Mitch, just for tonight, please?"
Mitch pressed his engorged organ against her thigh. "Don’t worry, honey, I won’t ask you to do anything you aren’t enthused about."
He nuzzled into her neck. Her shallow breathing caressed his temples. Soft exploring hands pressed against his back radiating their magic everywhere they touched. He broke his hold and whisked off his shirt.
Jen kicked off her shoes and watched in the moonlight. Bare-chested, he rolled her onto him, smothering her against his damp chest. Her quick kisses on his cheek came to a halt as she sat up and lifted her sweater over her head. She shrugged it off to the side.
Mitch unclasped the fastening of her bra. He slipped the straps off her shoulders in a slow motion that heightened the intensity of his action. Heightened his awareness of the bounty she offered. And she offered herself, free in spirit, as if she’d made up her mind to do so while she was still at home. Not one to force away a pleasant dream, he rose to the challenge, knowing the mirage might disintegrate in a whirlwind of raw emotion at any moment. But she pressed herself against his chest. The meeting of naked softness against his bare flesh called upon all of his restraint. He felt her body yield and give up her sense of propriety. The puritanical assessment he had made was wrong. She was uninhibited last night and faltered, would her actions repeat themselves tonight?
He fumbled with his belt and was surprised when she sought to unzip his jeans and pull them off. He tackled her slacks and in removing them, took a moment to admire the scant covering of parts that beckoned his touch. With a flex of his wrist her delicate blue lingerie sailed through the air. Her leg muscles heated and flinched as he walked his fingers down the length of her thighs. With her quick tug on his briefs, he was as free as her spirit and just as willing. She swung her leg over his body and pushed him down, a vision he’d dreamed but couldn’t imagine happening in real time. Her face was above him now, her eyes shining, her breasts peaked, begging for his caress.
Mitch encouraged her to take liberties, to explore and learn and enjoy. She was a fast learner. Her hands searched and inspected while blessing him with kisses so tender he thought he’d burst and spoil the ultimate moment. God he wanted her, if only she wouldn’t take flight.
"Jen, I don’t think I can hold off."
"You don’t have to. I want you, too, Mitch."
His world effervesced with visions of color; his mind reached a pinnacle of thrills. The force overwhelmed his reservations in the sheer energy of completion. She was his. He was hers. No matter the cost. And as they lay in surrender to nature’s bliss, he realized something different had happened with their coupling. With her nestled close beside him, he was content to have her stay there... forever. To hell with going to see Bull tonight; he could wait until tomorrow. Mitch glanced down when
a tiny shudder crossed her shoulders. Her eyelashes fluttered like soft brushes fanning her cheeks. He didn’t dare break the spell to ask if anything could be wrong. He wanted to absorb the moment and all that it meant.
~ * ~
Mitch’s arms contained more bracing strength than she’d imagined. So much so that just being able to complete what she’d only dreamed of before forced a tear to emerge. She pushed it away--this tear of sadness. His fiery heat had tuned up her need for his presence. But more ventures into his lovemaking wouldn’t be possible after tonight. There was no forever after.
Bull had promised the documents for tomorrow. The stipulation that he wanted more than money in payment tore at her guts. To get free she’d promise the moon: Spooky, and hoped she wouldn’t have to deliver. She would carry her gun and hoped nothing would make her use it again. She had changed in the last little while. Whatever had caused her to shoot that biker was no longer there. She hoped. After all, she’d made love with Mitch without a moment’s hesitation and the stranger’s face hadn’t appeared. Her instability was gone and she must be cured of the haunting images. She’d now make do with wonderful memories of her sexual explosion.
Another tear escaped and this time wound it’s way down her face. She gently erased its path by rubbing her face in Mitch’s furry chest. He had fallen asleep, his arms still holding her in a tender grasp. She stayed awake. She knew what she had to do, but right now she was going to commit to memory the easy rhythm of his heart’s beat and the feel of his comfy mat of chest curls beneath her cheek.
She lifted her head and nuzzled her lips into the unkempt beard she’d so detested. She couldn’t resist kissing Mitch on the chin. The scraggly wisps tickled her nose. His bright blue eyes flashed open and accelerated her joy. She reached up and pulled his head down so that his mouth was level with hers. His hold on her tightened, and he was more than able to accommodate her needs. If only... but she couldn’t think of ‘if onlys’ ... there was only now. She’d make the most of it. Damn Bull and damn the insecurities that had caused her to waste so much time when she could have been loving this rogue.
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