Shadow Valley

by Kate Sherwood

  “I eat what I’m offered. Just cold cereal at home, so don’t go out of your way. Whatever you’re having. Thanks.” That was a lot of answers all to one question, but none of them contradicted each other, at least.

  “I usually have a big breakfast. I was thinking pancakes—you up for it?”

  “Sure.” She grunted a little as she pushed her blanket away and rolled to a sitting position, all without spilling her coffee. She was impressed with that, and took a congratulatory sip before standing up. She had shed her jeans before going to sleep, and she was a little disappointed that Joe didn’t seem even tempted to turn around while she fumbled to pull them on. “Do you need any help?”

  He nodded toward the fridge. “You want to cut up a couple oranges?”

  That sounded like something she could manage, and it gave her the opportunity to spy on the contents of his fridge. Not that she was expecting to find anything too unusual, but any opportunity to nose around should be capitalized on. She’d been unimpressed by the bathroom, the night before. Joe’s few toiletries had been organized in a hanging kit so tidy she’d briefly considered the possibility of Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. The first aid supplies under the sink were more complete than seemed strictly necessary, but otherwise, the bathroom had been fairly generic. The shower was huge, with a lot of different spray heads, and there was a claw-foot tub that was begging to be shared, but that was it. She was trying to learn about him, and she was not having much luck.

  The fridge wasn’t much better. Condiments, beer, cheddar cheese, eggs and milk. Assorted fruit. Half a brick of butter.

  “The oranges are on the top shelf,” Joe said, and Megan wondered just how long she’d been staring into the fridge. She should probably have a few more sips of coffee before embarking on any further investigations.

  She retrieved the fruit and allowed him to direct her to a knife and cutting board. When the oranges were sliced, she nipped into the bathroom, and returned to find him flipping pancakes like a pro. She took a seat at the breakfast bar and watched him work.

  “You made those from scratch?”

  “My grandma would kick my ass if she caught me using mix for something as simple as pancakes.”

  “And she’s around to do it?”

  “Well, she’s not here in the kitchen. My grandmother isn’t invisible, Megan.”

  “I thought maybe she was really, really tiny.”

  “No, she’s regular size. She lives up the valley.”

  Megan felt a little awkward. The next logical question would be to ask about his parents, surely. But she had read about them in some report or another. His father was dead from a car accident, and his mother had left when Joe was a toddler. Megan wanted Joe to tell her, so she wouldn’t have to pretend she didn’t know, but she didn’t want to ask him in case he wasn’t ready to share. “My dad’s parents are in upstate New York. My mom’s parents are in Florida. I don’t see any of them much.”

  “New York State, huh?” Joe leaned into the fridge and pulled out a glass bottle of maple syrup, turning it so Megan could see the label.

  “Hey, New York syrup!” she said. “They’re in Ithaca, though.”

  “Cornell?”

  For a backwoods Montanan, Joe knew a lot about New York. “My grandmother taught there. She’s retired now.”

  He nodded, then pulled a plate out of the cupboard and slid two pancakes onto it. He passed it to Megan, then handed her a paper napkin and a knife and fork. “Butter’s there,” he said. “Syrup here…you need anything else?”

  “This is perfect. Thank you.” It seemed stupid to let the pancakes get cold, and he obviously intended for her to dig in, so she got started. He joined her when the next batch of pancakes was ready, and they ate peacefully together. Megan could imagine doing the same thing every day for a very long time, which was scary, but intriguing. A little fantasy to keep her mind from dwelling on negativity, she decided. Essentially harmless.

  She fell into a peaceful sort of haze—delicious food, beautiful man, warm sun coming through the window. It would be nice if there was a dog at their feet, but she couldn’t have everything.

  She was just finishing the last bite of her pancake when Joe said, “Megan?”

  “Yeah?” She swiveled on her own stool to face him. “What’s up?”

  “Anna—Anna’s a good friend of mine.”

  Megan nodded slowly. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear where this was going. “She said you two weren’t involved. Like, romantically.”

  He looked startled. “No. We’re not.” He frowned at her. “But I still care about her. And Don’s her partner. He cares about her, and he’s a cop. It’s his job to figure all this out.”

  “That doesn’t mean he couldn’t use some help.”

  “It doesn’t mean he has to get the help from you.” Joe was staring at her intently. “I think you should back out of this. It’d be great if you could go back to Helena, really. I know that’s complicated, but maybe you could take some vacation time? I don’t know—go visit your grandparents, or something. This could get bad here. Anna could have died. She still might. If whoever’s involved in this is willing to shoot one cop, there’s no reason to believe they’ll worry too much about shooting another, even if she isn’t really a cop.”

  “Anna’s a friend of mine too.”

  “You’ve known her for a week and a half, Megan. How close can you guys be?”

  “I’ve only known you for a week and a half, Joe. Apparently I’m forming attachments pretty quickly these days.”

  She stood up, which put her head at about the same level as his. She took a tiny step toward him, but he leaned back away from her. His eyes were wide. “Megan…”

  She shuffled forward a little more, and her wrist brushed his fingers. They both stared down at the point of contact, and Megan watched as Joe’s hand slowly lifted and wrapped around her wrist. “Megan…” Her name on his lips sounded like a mix between a warning and a plea.

  “I’m not leaving. I don’t plan on charging into any shoot-outs, but I’ll help with the paperwork. I’ll do what I can.” She leaned forward a little more, and this time he didn’t lean away. “And it’s not just because I care about Anna,” she whispered.

  She kissed him then, and he kissed her back. She pressed forward into the V between his legs, and she could feel the heat and solidity of his body. She rested her hands on his powerful thighs, and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in tighter, making her feel surrounded by strength.

  Their kisses were still hungry, but there was a familiarity now that hadn’t been there in the forest. When their lips broke apart, Joe’s mouth found the perfect spot under her ear right away, and she felt as if he knew just how tight to pull her in before it was too much.

  By contrast, she didn’t feel like she knew quite as much about him, and she was more than ready to start learning. She didn’t want to move too fast, didn’t want to scare him off, but from the way he was kissing, she didn’t think she would. “Bed?” she suggested as he nipped on her earlobe. He responded by sweeping her off her feet and starting toward the stairs. He had to go up the stairs sideways to avoid hitting her head on the wall, and she distracted him halfway with a particularly deep kiss.

  The huge bed sat directly under a large skylight. It had already been made, tight hospital corners that reminded her of her thoughts about OCD, but Joe certainly didn’t seem to have any hesitation about getting it messed up again. He eased her down on the mattress and stood in front of her, watching as she slid up toward the headboard.

  “You going to join me?” she asked.

  For a horrible moment, she worried that he was going to say no. Maybe he was having second thoughts. But he smiled, and reached over his head to pull his shirt up and then off.

  Damn. Megan was glad she had the ch
ance to see that from enough of a distance to appreciate the whole sweep of tight golden skin, the light dusting of dark hair, the chiseled muscles of his chest and abs. And he moved toward her at just when her visual appreciation was changing into the need to touch and taste. He crawled up the bed toward her. She knew she was grinning like a kid about to be handed a huge ice cream cone, and she just didn’t care. He didn’t seem to care either, because he was smirking right back at her, and when he got to her mouth his kiss wasn’t as deep as it could have been because both of their lips were stretched into smiles.

  He eased his weight down on top of her, just enough for her to feel it, then eased back off, bracing himself on his elbows and knees. She lifted her arms as he dragged her shirt up, and hooked her hands around his neck so she could pull herself up and give him access to her bra fastener. She wanted as much skin-on-skin contact as she could get, and she wanted it immediately. He seemed to have no problem with her plan, and once the fabric was dealt with, he eased back down so their chests connected.

  His skin was so warm, and she liked the way it felt beneath her fingers. She found what felt like a scar on his shoulder, and another on his lower back, but he didn’t seem concerned by either. He was too busy with his mouth, kissing her face, her neck, her breasts and then down her belly. His stubble tickled, and she could feel her soft skin bounce against it as she laughed. He looked up at her, and grinned as he rubbed his chin back and forth across her belly button. God, she wanted to kiss him. But she also wanted him to keep going in exactly the direction he was moving in.

  He made the decision for her, keeping his eyes on hers as his fingers moved to the fly of her jeans. She lifted her hips when he needed her to, and kicked her feet helpfully as he eased her jeans and underwear down and off. She propped herself up on her elbows so she could see him better, and he swooped back up for a quick kiss before sliding his lips back down her body.

  She kept watching. She couldn’t stop, and saw no reason to try. Joe’s eyes had fallen closed as he tasted her, and they stayed that way as he nipped and lipped and sucked in just the right ways. It felt like he was enjoying this for his own sake, as if it was a treat Megan was giving him, something to make him feel good, and her whole body relaxed into the sensations. When he brought his fingers into it, easing them inside her and finding her G-spot as if he could feel the heat radiating off it, she knew she wasn’t going to last. She didn’t even want to. She’d spent enough time with this man to be sure that there would be more orgasms, so she didn’t need to fight to postpone this one. She let the feeling build, felt it intensify, and then arched as the pleasure washed over her, through her. “Oh, god, Joe,” she managed, but then she was beyond words.

  He kissed his way back up her body, and she tasted herself on his tongue when he finally reached her mouth. She smiled into the kiss, and then pushed, rolling them over until Joe was on his back and she was straddling him. “My turn,” she purred.

  His smile was lazy and happy, and she wanted a camera. Or a guarantee that she’d get to see the exact same expression again.

  She took a moment to try to imprint the expression on her memory, then hooked her fingers into the waistband of his pants and pulled. He was going commando, which made things a little easier, and he lifted his hips and then dragged his pants the rest of the way down using the toes of one of his feet. The man was good at getting naked, and it was a skill she appreciated. She let herself savor the new visual, the way his long, lean body stretched out over the bed, the contrast of his golden skin against the navy sheets, and his big, beautiful cock, dark and swollen and ready for her.

  She wanted penetration, didn’t want to get him off too soon, but damn it, she deserved at least a taste. She crouched down and wrapped her fingers around the hot skin at the base of his cock, and she looked up at him as she gave the head a sloppy kiss. He smiled back at her, but she could see his control starting to fray. It was tempting. She loved giving head, loved the power and the potential to tease and please. She could imagine it, how she’d get Joe totally worked up, driving him to the edge and then bringing him back down, then ramping it up all over again until he was writhing on the bed, begging for release. She would do that, someday. Someday soon. But today, it seemed more important that they be joined in a more primal way, less finesse and more sense of mutual completion. So she dipped her head a few times, swallowing him as far as she could manage, and then slid up his body until she was straddling him, his cock stretching up toward her hot, aching pussy.

  She lowered her body, sheathing him inside her in a single, stretching motion. It was almost too much, and she let her body have a moment to adjust before she started to move. He was watching her, his fingers grazing over her hips and then up to her breasts, her lips, and as she bent over to kiss him he pushed himself up to meet her. That was what she wanted, she realized. She pulled him up so he was sitting almost upright, and she was able to keep moving, keep setting the pace, and still enjoy his kiss and the movement of his hands across her entire torso.

  He brought one hand down and his fingers found her clit. She was tempted to reach down and show him exactly what worked, but as a shudder of pleasure ran through her body, she remembered that he already knew. She didn’t know what sort of instinct he had that told him just what she needed.

  She let her body move the way it wanted. At first, that was slow and sinuous, letting herself feel every shift in angle, every stretch and rub and pressure point. She found herself speeding up and felt Joe moving with her, his hips rising to meet her as she sank down onto him, his pelvis rolling to accommodate her range of motion. And his fingers, rhythmic and strong, one hand by her clit while the other roamed from her breasts to her lips to anywhere else that caught his attention. As her climax neared, she arched away from him, still driving with her hips but needing more room, more freedom, at least for a while. She watched him through pleasure-narrowed eyes as he let himself fall backward onto the bed, stretching out one hand to grab hold of the cast-iron bed frame, while the other stayed busy between her legs.

  Megan’s breath was ragged, and she could feel Joe’s body tensing beneath her. He was still staring at her, but his vision seemed a little less focused now, almost as if he was looking right through her. She let her eyes drift shut, and concentrated on the sensations sweeping over her body. She heard herself cry out as she came, and then she was being shifted, rolled over onto her back. While the waves of pleasure were still sweeping through her Joe drove into her, pushing her back along the bed, three times, four, and then he buried his face in her neck and she felt his breath shudder as his hips strained into her, spasmed, thrust a few more times and finally stilled.

  She ran her fingertips down along the line of his spine, and felt the heat coming off his body. He shifted to the side so his weight wasn’t crushing her and kissed her deeply, then fell over onto his back, one arm underneath her, the other stretched out to the side. She rolled onto her side toward him, snuggled into his body and let herself get comfortable. She wanted to stay in that bed, with that man, for as long as possible.

  Chapter Eighteen

  She let herself explore for a while. He was sleepy, compliant, and it was a perfect opportunity to indulge herself. She ran her fingers over his chest, learning all the hard ridges and soft skin, then worked up to his neck and down over his biceps. Not hugely bulging, but hard and lean. Muscles that came from doing things, not from lifting weights in some mirror-lined gym. She nudged him and he ignored her, so she pushed a little harder and he snorted softly, then rolled over as she was demanding. The smooth angles of his shoulder blades were almost hypnotic. “This is where your wings would be attached,” she whispered, and he turned his head enough to give her a funny look.

  “Yeah? You got some weird plans I don’t know about?”

  “I didn’t say will. I said would. You know, if I decided to buy you wing-attachment surgery for your birthday.”
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  “Just a card would be fine.” He stretched his neck up to kiss her shoulder, and she bent enough to catch his lips with her own. Then she pulled away and went back to her exploration.

  “We could play the ‘scar story’ game,” she suggested, running her fingers over the long-healed line on his shoulder.

  “Have you got any?”

  “None like these.” She pulled her hair back from her neck and pointed to a spot under her ear. “Spider bite, when I was a toddler. Got infected.”

  “Infected? Or the spider laid her eggs inside you, and they hatched and clawed their way out?”

  She punched his shoulder, just below the scar. “No! Infected! There were no eggs.”

  “You were a toddler, huh? Parents probably wouldn’t want to tell their baby girl the truth about the spider eggs.” He shifted onto his back and looked up at her, his hands reaching to her waist, then sliding slowly up over her rib cage to cup her breasts. She’d thought her body was pleasured-out, but damn, his hands felt good.

  But she wouldn’t allow the distraction. “Roll back over. There was a scar on your ass too, wasn’t there? I haven’t even gotten to your legs yet. What’d you do, go through a plate glass window?”

  “Twenty floors up,” he agreed. “Backward. But I managed to fall right into a deep lake, so I survived.”

  “Wow. Pretty impressive.” He didn’t show any signs of complying with her request to turn over, so she decided to enjoy the parts of him that she did have access to. She slid herself along his body until she was stretched out on top of him, and they both looked at the place their chests joined. She tried to match their nipples up, but his chest was too broad. “In thirty years,” she decided. “When my tits are saggier. I’ll be able to stretch one over in that direction, one over this way.”