by Linda Mooney
She could hear the frogs croaking outside, and the occasional car going by. They were comforting sounds. Last night, she had been too distraught after the funeral to enjoy them. Ditto the night before that, her first night home after a long absence.
Tonight, however, she could relax. Ease into sleep, rather than bolt down a couple of sleep aids and hope they worked.
At some point she did slip into unconsciousness. For how long, Brenda had no idea. But something awoke her. Nothing frightening or out of place. She felt nothing threatening. Regardless, she continued to lay in her little bed and looked out at the moonlight-filled backyard. There was nothing out there moving about. Not even a dog or a cat left outside to stray.
Sighing, she pulled the bed linens up over her shoulders, and rolled onto her side, curling into a fetal position to preserve warmth.
She sensed him standing there the moment she faced him.
“Who?”
Odd, but she felt no fear. It was as if she had been expecting him. Propping up on one elbow, she waited for him to make the next move.
Like a shadow detaching itself, The Defender stepped into the pale moonlight streaming through the window. At the sight of him, her entire body went on high alert, and Brenda sat up further in bed.
The Defender moved closer, holding out a gloved hand palm up as if to quiet her as the other hand placed a single finger to his lips. “Shh. I’m not here to harm you,” he whispered.
“I know that,” Brenda replied, also whispering. “What’s wrong? Why are you here?”
“You’re why I’m here.”
Two more steps, and he was next to the little twin bed. Brenda felt the mattress jiggle when he hit it. The moon shone across his shoulders, giving the leather outfit he wore a wet sheen.
“You came through the window,” she stated. Of course he did. If he’d tried to come through the front door, she would have heard him. She was hit with a strong sense of deja vu. This was so much like the other night when she had dreamt this exact same scenario. Wide-eyed, she waited for his next move.
The Defender sat at the foot of the bed. The tingling was back, crawling up and down her skin, leaving behind goose bumps that her lightweight flannel pajamas could not keep warm.
“If at any time you feel I must leave, you only have to say so,” The Defender murmured.
Brenda nodded. “Okay. So why are you here?” she repeated.
“Because earlier you said you needed me. From the tone of your voice…” He paused, then said, “I came to see if your need was the same as mine.”
He reached out with one gloved hand to cup her chin, lifting her face until the moonlight caught it and reflected in her eyes. Brenda remained resolute and unafraid, even while her breath quickened with the increased rhythm of her heart.
She had never been one to openly speak her mind. Neither was she the kind to cause waves or act impulsively. However, tonight felt as though she was standing on a precipice, ready to jump off. But instead of falling to her death, she would be falling into this man’s arms. Unfortunately, there remained a few questions she had to have answered, if only for her piece of mind.
“Are you married?”
The Defender smiled. “No. I’m not legally attached to anyone in any way. I’m not even engaged.”
“You’re kidding.” The words popped out of her mouth before she even thought of them. Brenda felt her eyes widen when The Defender chuckled. It was a deep, throaty, and extremely sexy sound. She would swear it vibrated all the day down into her panties.
“Tell me, Miss McKay. How are you needing me?”
No, Miss McKay, you are not the impulsive sort. But, honest to God, if you don’t make the first move—
She launched herself into his arms, reaching for his mouth with her own. They connected, and it was as if the entire world began to shimmer from the heat. Quickly, she wrapped her arms about his head and shoulders, mentally begging that he do the same. As if he could read her mind, arms like bands of iron embraced her and drew her tightly against him.
Within seconds he had drawn her across his lap, until she was firmly nestled between his crotch and his chest. There was no turning back now. No retreating. And definitely no time for regrets.
His lips were cold and hard, demanding everything from her, which she was more than willing to give. She felt his gloved hands bunch at the back of her cotton pajamas, and in the next instant, he tore the top from her like it was made of paper. Brenda gasped as the chilly air washed over her bare skin.
The Defender grabbed her by the arms and pushed her far enough away so he could see her breasts in the moonlight. A slow, lazy smile crept over his face, and his black eyes glittered.
“You are more beautiful than I imagined.”
His confession sent shivers all the way to her core. Before she could respond, he pushed her back onto the bed, for which she was grateful. The quilt helped to keep the air off her back. Now, if he would only lay on top of her to keep her front warm.
His hand reached up to gently pluck one hard tip. When she tried to cover herself, he stopped her, reaching over with his other hand to continue playing with her erect nipple. Again, he seemed to read her mind, and leaned over to close his lips over it.
Hot, sweet desire surged through her, and Brenda arched her back to force more of her breast into his mouth. His tongue tickled, suckled, and pulled so hard at times it was nearly painful, but she wanted more. Needed more. It felt so damn good.
Her fingers dug into his hair and encountered a strap. Vaguely, she realized it was the mask. At the same moment, The Defender reached up and carefully removed her hands before she could inadvertently unhook the disguise. Instead of rebuking her, he moved to her other breast in order to torment it the way he had the first. Brenda wiped her wet nipple to keep it from becoming too cold. When she lifted her hand back to him, her fingers brushed across the zipper track of his leather jacket. Immediately, she sought the little lever.
The Defender chuckled again. “Getting impatient?”
He reared back without waiting for an answer, and Brenda watched as he unzipped his jacket and shrugged out of it, dropping the black outfit on the floor beside the bed.
She could barely make out the fact that he wore a black t-shirt underneath. He quickly jerked the hem out of his pants and tugged the shirt over his head, revealing a chest as expansive and muscular as she had believed it would be. A wide wall of warm, sweat-glistening skin that almost glowed in the moonlight. She lifted a hand to touch it, and immediately something didn’t feel…right.
Where was the soft mat of dark curls? Where was the provocative path of tiny hairs trailing down into the waistband of his pants.
With a shiver, Brenda realized what she was doing, and the knowledge stunned her. The Defender didn’t have chest hair but Lorne Palmer did. Lorne had a sprinkling of dark hairs covering his chest and nipples because she’d seen him countless times in the past without a shirt on—when he was mowing the lawn, or changing out the water sprinkler. In fact, there had been many times when she had wondered what it would be like to wake up next to that chest on a lazy Saturday morning.
Her thoughts were interrupted when The Defender grabbed the waist of her pajama bottoms and literally peeled them off of her with one strong tug. He was completely bare on top, and although his sculpted upper body was beautiful, Brenda couldn’t help the small disappointment niggling in the back of her brain.
She watched as The Defender tugged off his gloves and his boots, then stood to shuck his leather pants. He wore no underwear, to her astonishment, and as soon as he stood back up straight, his erection sprang forward, reminding Brenda of a diving board. The analogy was so funny, she fought to smother a giggle.
Either The Defender didn’t notice, or if he did, it didn’t matter. He crawled upon the tiny bed, nearly engulfing it as he pushed her back down. This time when he lowered himself over her, she could feel the heat emanating from his body, and she entwined her arms around h
is neck. He kissed her again, but his lips continued to be cool as they pressed down on hers. At no time did he try to breach the inner recesses of her mouth. There was no tongue. No “spit swapping”, as Lorne used to laughingly refer to it whenever they’d seen such a thing while watching TV.
Lorne again.
Frowning, Brenda tried to wipe her neighbor from her mind and concentrate on The Defender’s lovemaking. There was no denying the fact that his hands and his body were doing delicious things to her sex drive. She wriggled her hips, and the man broke the kiss.
“Do that again,” he half-demanded, half-begged.
Smiling, she spread her legs and lifted her mound, bouncing it provocatively against his thick erection and low-hanging balls. He immediately grabbed himself and shoved the head between her lower lips, giving his own hips a little bounce to firmly embed it at her entrance.
“Is this what you meant? Is this how you were needing me?” he asked.
He was breathing heavily now. It smelled slightly of garlic and mint toothpaste.
Brenda started to reply when he shoved himself partway into her. The invasion made her gasp.
“You are like fire,” The Defender murmured above her.
His hips moved, sinking himself further inside her.
And it felt wrong. It all felt so wrong.
“Come on, baby. Set me on fire.”
He withdrew slightly, then plunged into her again.
“No.” Brenda struggled to get him out of her. She pushed against his chest, shaking her head. “No. Stop. I can’t. We can’t.”
“Why not?”
He continued to move his hips, dragging in and out of her channel with increasing speed.
“You are so wet. It’s like sliding inside perfection.”
Brenda cursed her body. It was like fighting a rising hurricane, tormenting her. Her blood was burning her alive. She wanted completion. She needed it. But not with this man. Not with The Defender.
“No!” She managed to plant her feet on his seesawing hips. With one hard shove, she managed to push him all the way out while at the same time, she shoved him away with her hands.
“No more!”
The Defender remained motionless, suspended over the bed, and stared at her in surprise.
An instant later, he disappeared.
Brenda lay in a tight little bundle, horny, unfulfilled, and aching. No telling what time it was, or how long she had been lying there, unable to go back to sleep after she had woken up to find herself still in her pajamas, and to find she had dreamt it all.
Now she was afraid to go back to sleep. Afraid she’d dream about the dark stranger coming back to her bedroom to make love. Thank God her sex toy was back at her apartment in the city.
Good going, girlfriend. Nothing like having another fantastic wet dream about Mr. Walking Hard-on. But not only do you turn him away, you dream he’s someone else!
Having such a dream didn’t surprise her. And the fact that she’d had this second dream about the man wasn’t unusual, either. Many times in the past she’d fantasize about some movie star or rock star, and end up dreaming of a sexual encounter with him. But she’d always go through with the act. Or at least wake up in time to grab her vibrator and finish herself off, so that it felt like she’d gone all the way.
But this was the first time she had turned anyone away, dream-wise or other. Why did it have to be The Defender? Why did the thought of making love with him suddenly make her feel as if she was being unfaithful?
Stranger still, why did she keep comparing him to Lorne Palmer?
Chapter 14
Breakfast
“Lorne?”
Lorne walked into the kitchen to find his older brother sitting at the table and eating a bowl of cereal. Corn Flakes, he noted, instead of the usual sugared stuff, as big brother was on one of his short-lived attempts to lose weight.
“Morning.” He went straight to the refrigerator’s freezer compartment to grab the box of waffles. As similar as the boys were in appearance, their differences in tastes, likes and dislikes, were as vast as their powers. Luke preferred cereal or oatmeal, he wanted his waffles or eggs, and Lee was hooked on those healthy but perverse-tasting shakes.
He glanced at the sink where the empty blender pitcher sat, waiting to be washed. “Where’s number three?”
“Over at the PD,” Luke mumbled. “Hey, can we talk?”
Curious, Lorne grabbed the syrup from the fridge door and plunked it on the table before straddling a chair to listen to what his sibling had to say. Can we talk? It had to important for Luke to make that comment. Even more so since Luke was not a morning person, and didn’t like to broach difficult subjects until after noon. Lorne patiently watched as his brother wiped his mouth with a paper towel.
“It’s about Brenda.”
“Thought so.” Lorne smiled.
Luke shot him a warning look. “Really. I’m serious. It’s about Brenda.”
Lorne went immediately on the defensive. “Is she okay?” He started to rise to his feet when Luke waved for him to sit back down.
“It’s not an emergency. Go ahead and eat.”
Lorne opened his mouth to question him, when the waffles chose that moment to pop out of the toaster. He went to retrieve them, throwing them onto a paper plate and grabbing a fork from the silverware drawer to take everything back to the table.
“Can I get some coffee first?” he inquired with a bit of sarcasm.
Unaffected by his brother’s growing irritation, Luke nodded. Once Lorne was settled back at the table, he continued.
“I thought you might like to know. Brenda had a hot, erotic dream about you last night. Or rather, about The Defender.”
His piece of waffle fell off his fork. Shaken, Lorne frowned at his brother. “How—”
“No, no. I didn’t invade her mind. She was giving off such strong vibes, they woke me up. I just skimmed over the surface to see if she might be in trouble. She’s been through so much these past few days, I was thinking she might need someone to go over and offer a shoulder of condolence, know what I mean?” He shook his head. “Honestly, Lorne. The sexual vibes she was giving off could have melted a glacier.”
“Why didn’t you awaken me?”
“I was about to, but then, suddenly, she went cold. I mean fish cold. Almost as if she’d been frightened.”
“Frightened?” Lorne’s stared numbly at his brother. “Frightened of The Defender?”
Luke shrugged. “Something in her dream turned her off like that.” He snapped his fingers for emphasis.
“Any idea why?”
“Not without a little probing. And I promised you years ago I wouldn’t do that to her unless it was an emergency.” He twirled his spoon in his cereal. “She finally got back to sleep, but it was fitful the rest of the night.”
“What do you think it meant?”
“Other than the fact that she dreamt she was making love to you as The Defender, and you did or said something that turned her off?”
Lorne winced. “Ouch. But it wasn’t really me.”
“We know that. She knows that, too. Listen, Lo. I think Brenda’s turned on by your secret identity, but she probably inadvertently compared you to some of her past sexual encounters. And when she did, you came up…uhh…lacking.”
Lorne silently cursed himself for the flush that came over his face. “So, what are you suggesting? That I seduce her as The Defender and prove to her I’m not ‘lacking’?”
“It’s up to you. After all, Lee and I know how long you’ve been trying to get her to look at you as more than a pseudo-brother. Maybe now’s the time to get closer to her, but as your superpowered persona. Take it a step at a time. Slowly let her know you care for her in a romantic way. Hell, if Lorne Palmer can’t catch her, there’s a good chance The Defender can.”
“Is this one of those inevitable or consequential events?” Lorne asked.
Again, Luke shrugged. “Sometimes I can see thi
ngs as clearly as if I’m watching it live. Other times, it’s fuzzy and filled with static. I think the fact that the four of us grew up together like one enormous family is why Brenda is coming across in hazy bits and pieces. That, and her proximity. After partially witnessing what she was going through, I thought you’d want to know what happened last night.”
“Does this have anything to do with the warning you gave me the other day?”
“It may. It may not. Right now I can only catch a thread here and there. Nothing really screams out at me.” He smiled. “You know, Lo, Lee and I would be thrilled if you two ever managed to hook up permanently.”
Lorne stared down at his empty plate where he was making tracks in the leftover syrup with his fork. To say he had been pining after Brenda all these years would be putting it mildly. Once he reached puberty, the majority of his dreams had been about her, and all of his wet dreams had included only her. “Luke, I just came out as The Defender. How can I juggle that career and woo Brenda at the same time?”
“Easy. She’s under orders to find out the cause of that explosion. So are you. Just combine the two. Let her in as you investigate. Her bosses have called in to the PD to up her credentials. That woman has more brains than we give her credit for. She’d make a great ally.”
“But what if I still want to be with her as myself?”
“Still easy. Of the three of us, she opens up to you. And there’s still that house of hers she’s thinking of selling. Damn it, Lorne, short of duct taping the two of you together, what’s it going to take for one of you to make the first move?”
“What are you saying? That I make a move on her as both myselves? Myself and I?” He laughed at the absurdity. “However you say it?”
“Why not?”
“But why now? Why not a week from now? Or a month from now? Give her a chance to recover from Mr. Mac’s death, and for this whole thing with the factory to be resolved? Even if she goes back to the city, it would only take me a few minutes to fly up there.”