Runner's Moon: Jebaral

by Linda Mooney

  “I want to feel you inside me.”

  “This is new to me. Give me a moment to absorb it,” he whispered. He was throbbing with his own need. His skin felt on fire, burning him, forcing him to seek relief in her moisture. In the wet, slick moisture of her mouth and her womanhood. He could hear himself panting, feel the sweat coating his palms and belly, and he tried to force himself to slow down. Steady, steady. Or else he was afraid of hurting this beautiful creature whose life meant more to him than his own.

  He pulled her down over him, nesting himself tightly within her, filling and expanding her channel. Fire was shooting through him, arcing in huge flames, licking and burning him. It was too much. Too exquisite. Jeb cried out as Hannah deliberately squeezed him with her inner muscles.

  Gathering him to her, she stroked his back until she could feel his breathing slow and his racing heartbeat grow more even. “Whoa, cowboy. What happened?”

  “I was wrong.” His voice was weak.

  “Wrong?”

  “Yes. I can make love to you this way. It’s just going to be … different.”

  Hannah giggled. The sound spasmed down to her deepest recesses. He moaned as her silkiness squeezed him, pumped him. Excited him beyond anything he had ever shared with another female.

  “A good different, I hope.”

  “What are you doing to me, Hannah?”

  “Trying to get pregnant. What do you think?”

  His head jerked up. Her loving blue gaze literally stole every other thought in his head. Hannah smiled as warm as the sun. “Well, you did say I wouldn’t be able to have a baby unless we became blood mates, didn’t you?” Jeb continued to stare numbly at her, mute with shock. She gave his shoulders a little shake. “Didn’t you?”

  “Y-yes.”

  “And my blood line is in your arm now, right?”

  “Yes.” He fought the urge to look at the inside of his arm. He wouldn’t be able to see it, but he could feel it. Like a tongue covered in burning crystals running up and down, just under the skin, sending minute shards of magma and ice directly into his brain. Hannah flexed her inner muscles again. The shards looped around and shot straight into his manpipe. His hips jerked once, twice, and he poured himself into her with a sob.

  Hannah cradled him through his release. As the last of his shudders came to a halt, Jeb sought her lips. They kissed, tasting and savoring the intimacy. “Are you okay?” she whispered as he finally pulled away. When he didn’t answer, she opened her eyes to see the light in his face glowing brighter. The heat in his eyes turned their golden flecks into live coals.

  “I’ve had my prize. Now it’s time I gave you yours.”

  He started to pull her up and off of him, sliding his growing thickness out of her. Hannah gasped and struggled in his grasp, but his arms were like solid oak. They held her firmly but without harming her.

  With a flick of his wrists, he turned her over, setting her back on the bed on her other side, facing away from him.

  “Jeb?”

  “I won’t hurt you. But what you are going to feel may send you spiraling out into space, just like you did to me,” he promised in a voice that raked her lust over molten glass. It was seductive and intense. Hannah could feel every nerve in her body grow tense. She lowered her head and shifted her hips until her buttocks were in the position he wanted them.

  Those long, broad fingers dove between the cleft of her cheeks, sliding almost imperceptibly downward toward her entrance. The blunt nails teased her, scratching the tender inner skin as they dropped lower and lower. She moaned and tried to scoot closer to him, but his upper body had her firmly trapped where he wanted her.

  He deftly played with the tight little hole of her anus for less than a moment. His interest was further down, in that heavenly musk he had already marked. Fingernails left tiny red trails across the swollen flesh and sent erotic signals to that part of Hannah’s brain, leaving her feeling less human and more animal. The pink nub was pulsing, turning red and slick. Jeb ran a thumbnail over it, barely scraping it, and she bucked again at the nerve-searing messages flooding her; a faint whimper escaped her as she clasped the bedsheets with white knuckles.

  “Oh, God, I can’t take anymore, Jeb!”

  “Yes, you can.” His voice slid over her like warm syrup.

  “No! I can’t … Jeb!”

  She was crying with frustration as she tried to move her buttocks into position but he held her firm. He ran his fingertips over the hot center of her being. Then, slowly, Jeb slipped a finger into her depths.

  Hannah moaned loudly and begged for more. Begged for him. Begged for the release she was dying for.

  Another finger went inside her. Then a third. Carefully, he pumped her. With every fiery stroke he titillated the stiff little nub within her folds until her muscles went rigid. Her breathing came in ragged gasps. Her struggles would have been enough to arouse him back to stiffness, but her responses washed over him like a returning tide. His member lengthened, hotter and harder. This was the first time he had explored that part of her which drove him mindless, and he reveled in her responses.

  There was no way to describe the beauty of her body or of the perfection created when their bodies melded. She was a sweetness far greater than anything he had imagined. Far more wonderful than any sensory input he had ever experienced.

  His father had been right. The blood bond was more than becoming a life partner. Hannah’s life was inseparable from his. Her needs were his. Her passion filled his inner self with the same fire.

  He could understand all of it now. Tears rolled down his cheeks with the realization.

  Hannah cried out. Her sweat-slick bottom trembled under his hands. Suddenly rising to his knees Jeb pulled her up with him. And before she could comprehend this new position, he entered her all the way with one forceful lunge.

  She tried to scream when her body exploded with release. As her inner walls closed over him, Jeb continued to make love to her, pulling in and out as flesh dragged over flesh, over nerve endings that felt like they were frying. In and out, relentlessly pushing himself all the way in until his groin met her dripping entrance before jerking out.

  Hannah’s cries were of the purest kind; the product of absolute ecstasy. Her fists beat against the mattress with every hard thrust that impaled her.

  Like a faint light in the distance Jeb could sense her weariness. Her body was flagging, her responses growing muddy and disjointed. Gradually he slowed down until he reached a complete stop, withdrawing all the way with one final trembling jerk of his body.

  Sated and wholly exhausted, he lowered himself back onto the bed. Rolling over onto his side, he gently tugged on the semi-conscious woman. Hannah fell into his lap without a sound.

  Jeb pulled up his knees and wrapped his arms across her chest until he was like a protective ball and she was his center. Kissing her sweaty shoulder, he closed his eyes and gave in to his weariness.

  Chapter 19

  Retribution

  Carl sat in the four-by-six-foot cell, staring at the bars but not seeing them. His thoughts were elsewhere; his vision directed inward.

  His hand hurt. He’d forgotten to bring his pain pills, and now he regretted it. But—crap!—he’d been half-asleep when he’d climbed into his truck around four that morning and aimed for Clearwater. Drove like there was no tomorrow for Tumbril Harbor. Prayed all the way up here he’d find the bitch and that walking dildo she’d run off with.

  Son of a bitch.

  Once he reached the harbor’s town limits he realized he had no idea where to start looking for them. He vaguely remembered the guy driving a blue pickup but the make of it eluded him. It was an older model; that was all he could recall. Of course he could have gone from motel to motel, hoping to spot a blue truck, and with a little luck find them. But he soon realized there were too damn many blue trucks in Tumbril Harbor.

  Shit.

  While filling up, he’d seen a guy talking on a pay phone at the Gas
‘N Go across the street. They still had pay phones in these dumpy little burgs? Anyway, that had given him an idea.

  He still had that picture of Hannah they’d had taken at the fairgrounds a couple of years ago. Back when she was still fresh and innocent. Taking it out of his wallet, he started at one end of Main Street and walked into every store to show them the photo and ask if they’d seen her.

  An hour later, and with no leads to go on, he was ready to take a break and get a bite to eat. That’s when he’d climbed into his truck and went in search of the restaurant someone had recommended to him.

  The light at the one and only intersection in town had gone yellow when he’d approached it. Any other day he would have run the red. To hell with it. But for some crazy reason he had hit the brakes, skidding just short of the crosswalk.

  Just how lucky could one guy get? There she was, standing at the corner, waiting to cross. Dressed in jeans and that little blue tank top that always showed off her tits. Her hair was up in a ponytail like she always wore it. The side of her face that had been one large bloody mass the last time he’d seen her was looking better. It was still somewhat blueish and lime green, but it was Hannah.

  And the bitch spotted him! He had been as stunned as she was when she got a gander at him. And then—boom!—she’d taken off lickety-split. Started running as fast as she could toward some motel. He’d hit his horn but she’d ignored him. She disappeared into the motel office just as the light changed.

  Bitch.

  He was quick to turn around and pull into the motel parking lot. Some old gray-haired crone came to the door but wouldn’t let him in. She’d locked it from the inside and refused to budge. What the hell else was I supposed to do? Hannah was inside and wouldn’t come out to talk to him or nothing. The old biddy had left him no choice but to get his tire iron and smash the door in.

  Hey, Hannah is my woman. What right did she have running away from me like she did?

  And who the hell was this Jeb Morr bastard who had abducted her?

  Yeah. That’s what he did. He abducted her. Broke into my home and kidnapped her.

  After that Jeb guy had crushed his hand and taken off with Hannah, he remembered finding what was left of the door handle on the ground near the open door. It was a little after three in the afternoon. Surprised the hell out of him to realize Hannah had gone with the son of a bitch.

  At first he’d thought she’d gone to the hospital, but when he called the emergency room, they hadn’t seen her. Neither had the first aid clinic at the other end of town. It had been a relief to find out she hadn’t been to either. The last thing he needed was for the cops to haul his ass back to jail because of a stupid little fight.

  He’d made it over to the diner to confront that Barbara woman who worked with Hannah, but she wouldn’t tell him nothing. It wasn’t until he reported the breakin to the police, and they’d come over to check things out, that Monty Allwine next door told him it was some guy named Jeb Morr who had been over that morning and taken Hannah away. Allwine was retired Army, and sometimes did some electrical work for B and A Construction as a sub-contractor. He’d recognized Morr from the job they’d done at the new First United States Bank. He also told Carl that construction at the bank was over, but he had no idea where Morr was, or where the man could have gone with Hannah.

  Of course the police said they could probably put out some sort of alert in case anyone saw Hannah, if Carl thought she might be in any kind of danger. But because she wasn’t a minor, they told him she had just as much right to pack up her things and run off with the guy as anyone.

  Which left Carl pretty much hung out to dry.

  Thank God for friends like Manuel Rosas. If the man hadn’t put the bug in his ear about what he’d overheard at the construction office, he would’ve never been able to figure out where that asshole Morr had taken her.

  He flexed the fingers of his uninjured hand. Okay, so he’d gotten a little carried away with the tire iron. Christ, it wasn’t like I was gonna hurt ‘em or anything. It was just a goddamn door. Yet here they were trying to make a federal case out of it.

  The door at the far end of the tiny jail rattled, then opened to reveal the figure of the deputy sheriff who had closed him up in here.

  “Make yourself presentable. The judge wants to get you taken care of before she goes home today.”

  “Well, ain’t I lucky?” Carl muttered with as much sarcasm as he could muster.

  The deputy snorted as he unlocked the cell door. “Better stick that attitude where the sun don’t shine, or else you’ll be sitting in here for the next ten days until she gets back from the Virgin Islands.”

  Carl started to make an off-color remark about the judge and Virgin Islands, but decided against it. He didn’t know this woman, and she didn’t know him. If he had any luck left to him, he could be out on the streets in another hour or two.

  And if he was, there was nothing that was gonna stop him from getting what he came here to get in the first place.

  Chapter 20

  Plans

  “How do I marry you?”

  Hannah dropped her fork on the floor. Jeb watched as she bent down to pick it up and put in back on the table.

  “Sorry. Wh-what did you say?”

  “I know on this world when a man and a woman want to show their commitment to each other, they have a wedding ceremony. I’ve seen it on television.” He smiled around his egg salad sandwich. “We don’t have such ceremonies between Ruinos. Once a pair are bonded, it’s pretty evident to everyone.”

  “Why would you want to marry me? I mean, you don’t have to. I mean … I don’t want you to feel like…” Hannah toyed with her knife and tried not to look at him. It was clear she was fighting with herself. From her conflicting scents, Jeb could tell she wanted the marriage ceremony but for some reason she didn’t want him to feel obligated. Reaching out, he laid a hand on top of hers nervously fidgeting with the silverware.

  “Do you want to get married? The truth now, Hannah. I’ll know if you tell me differently.” He spoke low and soothingly. Obviously what he had intended as a casual discussion had unexpectedly taken a different turn.

  She shook her head. The light blonde highlights in her hair glistened in the overhead lights. “Yes, Jeb. I do. Every girl dreams of what kind of wedding she’ll have when she grows up and finds the man she’ll love forever.” Lifting tear-filled eyes, she continued in the same tone of voice he had used. “But I know most guys don’t want to feel tied down. They don’t want to be … I guess the word I’m looking for is obligated. They don’t want to feel as if they’re tied down to just one woman.”

  “Hannah, I’m not most guys.” His brows lowered slightly. “I’m not Carl.”

  “I know that,” she started to protest. He cut her off before she could go any further.

  “Then tell me what we have to do in order to get married.”

  “Not a whole lot, really. You go to the courthouse and buy a marriage license. Then you find a minister who’ll perform the ceremony.” She made a slight face, her gaze directed down at her half-eaten BLT. There was a pause as he gave her time to say more, but after another minute, it was clear she wouldn’t.

  “I think the ceremonies I’ve seen on television were a bit more elaborate than that,” he commented.

  Hannah picked up a french fry and nibbled on it. “What do you mean?”

  Jeb sniffed loudly to make a point, adding a grin. “You’re being evasive.”

  “Stop sniffing me. You mean the fancy white gown and flowers and all?”

  “You know exactly what I mean. Hannah … why are you fighting me on this?”

  “I’m not fighting you.”

  “Like hell you’re not. When I first mentioned it, your heart started beating faster than a herd of running horses, but your words aren’t reflecting what you feel. You say you want to get married, then in the next breath you say it isn’t necessary.” He leaned over the table to make his next po
int. “You are in my bloodstream, Hannah. Permanently. It goes without saying I’m not human, so don’t try to compare me with the other men who’ve been in your life. With those men who’ve treated you shamefully.”

  She chewed on another fry. “Weddings cost money.”

  “T’korra, that’s not a problem.”

  At his casual response Hannah stopped chewing. “What do you mean?”

  “Exactly what I said. Money is not the issue here. Now … what kind of wedding do you want?”

  “For real?”

  “Yes, Hannah. For real.”

  Two teardrops in perfect alignment rolled down each cheek. She sniffed and hurried to brush them away. “Can we invite Barb?”

  “Anyone you want.”

  A twinkle sparkled in her eyes. That lemonade smell he loved was coating her skin. “I want her to be my maid of honor. You’re gonna need a best man.”

  Jeb took a swallow of water and set down the tumbler. “Not a problem. Simon’s ready to rip up the road to come meet you.”

  “Tear up, you mean.”

  “What?”

  “You mean he’s ready to tear up the road. Not rip.” After she giggled, Hannah added, “The accent gives you away, but your misuse of our slang is adorable.”

  He smiled. “Give me a few more years.” Suddenly serious again, Jeb leaned over toward her. “The day we landed here, we did not believe either of us would find a life partner among the inhabitants. Simolif and I had … we had resigned ourselves to spending the rest of our lives alone. Free … but alone. So tell me what else we’ll need.”

  “Well, most people get married in a church. My mother was Baptist, but I haven’t been to a tabernacle in years.” Biting her lower lip, she mulled over this small road bump as the waitress came over to see if there was anything else they needed before leaving their check. Hannah watched her walk away. “Jeb, give me a sec.”

  She got up from their booth and approached their waitress who had gone behind the counter lining one wall of the café. Jeb knew she was up to something as he watched her speak with the woman.