Wilder, J. C. - Shadow Dweller 3

by Shameless(lit)

  "Please." Her voice was breathless, pleading.

  A surge of triumph raced through him as he dipped his head and took her into his mouth. Fingers tightened in his hair as he suckled her, laving her nipple, rolling it between his tongue and the roof of his mouth. He slid his hands down to her hips, cupping her, pressing her against his cock.

  Releasing the succulent morsel, he pressed kisses down the slope of her breast, urgency riding low in his belly. Nosing her sweater aside, he nuzzled the newly revealed flesh. His lips brushed over a hard narrow ridge and he paused. Pulling away, his gaze traced the scar that ran from the center of her chest under her left breast.

  Erihn froze in his arms.

  Aware of her stillness, he pressed a kiss to the very tip of the scar, his tongue stealing out to taste the ridge. Quick as a cat, she wrenched herself from his arms. He caught a glimpse of her shattered expression as she spun and ran for the house.

  Frustration zinging through his blood, Fayne rubbed a hand through his hair. Every time he thought he was making progress, something happened to slam the door shut. His breath huffed out as he watched her retreating figure run back to the house.

  He decided let her go. This time.

  It's almost time.

  Max froze, his fingers tightening around the handle of the trowel. Who said that? He glanced around, seeing no one nearby except for Bliss and Stuart, the dig foreman, deep in conversation many feet away.

  He stuck his trowel into the rich earth before releasing the handle. Mentally, he pulled inward and formed a question to offer to the universe.

  Time for what?

  A hot breath of wind swooped out of nowhere, stirring the powder-fine dirt before him and caused him to blink rapidly as the voice came again.

  Prepare yourself...

  * * *

  Chapter 5

  Erihn walked from the gloom of the library, clutching research papers and books to her chest. The late afternoon sunshine hit her full in the face as she entered the living room and she squeaked in annoyance. She turned her head away from the glare and an unfamiliar sight met her gaze. An old milk glass vase graced the center of the coffee table, filled with Indian paintbrush, columbines, and fresh sage. It hadn't been there when she'd gone into the library a few hours earlier.

  "I was wondering when you were going to wake up."

  She blinked owlishly, trying to clear the sleep from her eyes. She saw Fayne standing at the foot of the couch in his bare-chested glory. Low-slung jeans clung to his narrow hips, and one hand lay over his heart, lazily scratching as if he liked the sensation of his fingernails in the light fur on his chest. He was beautiful.

  A delicious thrill of awareness and apprehension danced along her nerves. She wanted to run her fingers through his hair, to have him look at her with passion in his eyes as he had earlier. She also wanted to run away and avoid him for the next ten years.

  He frowned. "Are you okay? You have an odd look on your face."

  Erihn nodded. "I'm fine." She gave him a wide berth as she stumbled to the coffee table to deposit her load when a book slipped, dislodging papers and the were-cat diary from her arms. She and Fayne both dove for the diary, their hands colliding on the worn leather binding. "Sorry," she mumbled as he released the book.

  "That's a very old book," he observed.

  "Mid-eighteenth century. It's in remarkable condition." Erihn secured the book in a narrow wooden box lined with velvet before slipping it into her voluminous handbag, which was sitting by the coffee table. "It's a diary I'm using to research my next book."

  "Really? Jennifer said you're her favorite novelist. How many have you written?"

  She blushed. "She's just being nice. The one I'm working on now will make number twenty."

  Fayne whistled. "Quite impressive. I'm assuming Jennifer has copies of your books?" He scooped the notebook and some papers off the floor, handing them to her without even glancing at her neat handwriting.

  She nodded toward the shelves. "They're over there on the shelf, next to the CD player."

  Erihn sat on the couch and arranged her notes as he walked to the shelves. She watched him out of the corner of her eye as he perused the titles.

  "Which one is your latest title?"

  "Velvet Lover." She placed note pages into their appropriate folders, then rose in time to see him pluck the book off the shelf. "What are you doing?"

  He turned, the paperback was small in his big hand. "I want to read it."

  Erihn blushed and shook her head. "You really don't need to..."

  "Sure I do. It isn't everyday I get to meet a famous writer."

  She laughed. "I'm hardly famous."

  "According to the back of the book you are." He glanced at the cover. "Award- winning and best-selling. It says so right here. Jennifer said this book is hot stuff."

  His smile was huge and his eyes sparkled with laughter. He was actually enjoying her discomfort.

  She couldn't help but return his smile. "Maybe you'll need pot holders when you read it, then."

  The laughter in his eyes faded, changing to a smoldering look that made her shiver. Curse her rampant tongue! She fought the urge to flee from his heated gaze.

  "Maybe I will."

  Erihn cleared her throat and changed the subject. "I met your cat this morning."

  Fayne smiled, a mysterious twinkle lit his eye. "You did? I hope he didn't frighten you."

  "It was a bit shocking to find him sprawled in my bed."

  "In your bed?" An odd little smile played about his lips as he shook his head. "I thought I taught him better than that. What did you think of him?"

  "He's amazing," she breathed. "And beautiful. I've never seen anything like him. Where did you get him?"

  "He was a gift from a friend and he's very dear to me." He grinned. "You might say he's a part of me now. Maybe I'll let him out later for you to play with."

  "Where do you keep him?"

  "Oh here and there. During the day, he sleeps, but when night falls, he likes to prowl."

  Erihn shivered. "Does he hunt or do you have to feed him?"

  "A little of both, but don't worry," his voice grew husky. "He won't bite, unless you ask him nicely."

  She shivered as a vision of Fayne nibbling on her skin invaded her senses. She shook her head and cleared her throat. "Speaking of dinner..."

  "Right, dinner. It's ready, so go freshen up, and I'll be out front."

  "Out front? I thought we couldn't get off the mountain."

  "We aren't going down the mountain, we're going up." He grinned. Dropping the paperback on the top step leading to the basement guestroom, he walked toward the kitchen.

  "Where are we going?" she asked.

  "You'll see," he called over his shoulder.

  Erihn scrambled up the steps and down the hall into the first floor bathroom to freshen up. After splashing water on her face, she was startled at the excitement in her eyes reflected in the mirror. No doubt about it, she was crazed.

  But isn't it fun?

  Swallowing a wild giggle, she gave her hair a quick finger combing before exiting the house. She took a deep breath of the fresh air as she stepped out into the fading light. Leafy trees shrouded the drive and front of the house in a cool green light. She walked to the drive, curious to see what he was up to.

  "Are we going to walk..." Her voice trailed off as she saw what he was standing next to.

  A Harley Davidson motorcycle leaned on its kickstand in the drive. All gleaming chrome and black enamel paint, it looked lethal, sexy, as did its owner. Fayne had donned a T-shirt and a black leather jacket over his jeans and heavy black boots. A black leather backpack sat at his feet.

  "I can't ride that," she stammered.

  "Sure you can. Jennifer loves to ride with me." He picked up another jacket from the seat and offered it to her. "I assure you it's completely safe."

  Erihn bit her lip. She wanted to go, but the thought of being in close proximity to this man made
her throat constrict. Was it fear or desire? She wasn't sure if she knew anymore.

  He walked to her and slung the jacket around her shoulders. It was much smaller than his and could only be Jennifer's. The scent of leather surrounded her as he helped her into the sleeves.

  "You'll need to wear the backpack. It has our dinner in it."

  "I..." Before she could voice another objection, he had the backpack secured over her shoulders and was walking toward the bike. Swinging a leg over, he turned and looked at her expectantly.

  She stared at the bike with longing as she gnawed on her bottom lip. What would it hurt to take a ride with him? He said Jennifer rode with him, so surely it was safe. She'd love to feel the wind rushing through her hair; she released her bottom lip and squared her shoulders. He smiled as she stepped hesitantly toward him and her heart gave a silly little flip.

  "Where do I put my feet?"

  Fayne pointed to a metal rod. "Put your foot on the peg and swing yourself over like you would a horse."

  "Maybe I need to change into a pair of pants." Erihn glanced at her skirt. "This isn't very practical for riding a motorcycle."

  He frowned at the skirt, then climbed off the bike. "I have an idea." He vanished into the garage and, within seconds, he returned with something black in his hands. He grinned and held up the black leather apparel. "Chaps."

  She blinked. "Chaps?"

  "Sure. This goes around your waist." He undid the buckle and looped the belt around her waist before securing it. The leather flaps hung free, covering the front of her skirt. "Then this," he dropped to his knees and she yelped as a strong hand skimmed the inside of her calf before nudging her skirt up, "ties here."

  Erihn looked down as he tied the laces around the back of her knee. She quivered as his warm hands brushed her overheated skin, sending tingles of awareness rocketing to her lower abdomen. She closed her eyes.

  "Then there's one more thing..."

  Her eyes flew open and she gave a squeak as his strong fingers skimmed the inside of her thighs. Pushing her skirt up further, he reached for the top set of ties.

  I'm not wearing any underwear! Erihn blushed. Thank goodness the chaps were too big and the ties didn't sit right below her butt-cheeks where they should have been. He would've gotten an eyeful, or a handful, then.

  "Okay, we're ready to go." Fayne got to his feet and ambled over to the bike, swinging his leg over easily. He turned the key before gripping the handlebars. With a practiced motion, he started the bike with a roar shattered the stillness.

  She backed up. "It might be easier if I changed first," she yelled.

  His smile was sly, "Not as much fun, though."

  She swallowed, "I really need to..."

  His brow lifted. "Afraid?"

  She stiffened her spine as her gaze narrowed. "I most certainly am not." Marching to the bike, she stepped onto the peg and tossed her leg over like pro. The chaps gave her freedom of movement as her knees brushed the side of his hips when she sat.

  "See?" she said smugly. "I told you I wasn't afraid."

  Fayne chuckled and reached back, cupping his hands around the backs of her leather-clad knees. "You need to sit a lot closer than that." He tugged and Erihn squeaked as her skirt rode up, just short of exposing herself, and her body came into full contact with his. She put her hands against his back to try and get some space between them.

  "Quit fidgeting. You're fine. Now put your arms around my waist."

  "Easy for you to say," she mumbled. She felt terribly vulnerable, thanks to her wretched skirt. Never again would she go without underwear.

  Deciding that she couldn't do anything about the skirt short of changing it and he didn't seem to want to allow her to do that, she laid her hands lightly on his waist. She'd have to make sure she got off the bike first so he couldn't see her dilemma.

  She gasped when he caught her hands and pulled them around his body, placing them flat on his tight stomach. Erihn was plastered against his back like a limpet.

  As he put it in gear and let out the clutch, she clung to him, certain they'd fall off at any moment. She felt his chest rumble as he laughed at her reaction.

  He chose a path through the side yard, through what Jennifer called the wilderness. He drove slowly, the path narrow and damp from the summer of excessive rain. They wove around trees and thickets, over little hills and ridges, heading ever higher. They forded a small runoff with little fuss and some splashing of the chilly rainwater. Erihn caught her breath as she saw the valley through a break in the trees. The sun was sinking ever lower, painting the valley in gold and bluish shadows.

  She clung to Fayne as he hit a sharply vertical patch before they crested the ridge, coming out on the gravel road above the house. Narrow and twisting, the old logging road had been shut down after Jennifer bought the land. Now in disuse, the weeds and wilderness were slowly reclaiming the scars wrought by mankind.

  He followed the road, ever climbing upward. She relaxed her grip and enjoyed the ride. The air rushing through her hair gave her a feeling of freedom; similar to standing outside in the storm last night.

  A feeling of recklessness descended upon her. The combination of the vibration of the motorcycle and the presence of Fayne sitting between her thighs made her giddy. The scent of leather and warm male tinged faintly with pine pitch ignited a spark of desire low in her belly. Her cheeks burned as she mentally chastised herself. She had to stop thinking like some shameless hussy. It was one thing to fantasize about a character in a book; it was another thing to fantasize about a living, breathing man.

  The road leveled out and Fayne increased speed as the gravel gave way to a wide dirt path. The path ran along the ridge, giving a breathtaking view of the mountain peaks and Castle Rock, a massive lava formation in the distance.

  Erihn flattened her hand on his stomach. Now covered by his T-shirt, muscles played beneath her palm. Tentatively, she shifted her hand, following the ridge of muscle up toward his chest.

  Fayne's hand covered hers and, for a second, her heart stopped. He moved her hand to cover his heart, the thud comforting beneath her palm. Tears stung her eyes as she leaned her cheek against his back.

  Ivan scowled as he applied the brake. The twisting paved road leading to the Beaumont house had been an easy drive until he reached the scene of the mudslide. Bright yellow backhoes gnawed at the mass of rubble like little ants. Men in hard hats stood around, shouting directions.

  As he came to a stop, a man dressed in coveralls, plaid shirt, and a hard-hat approached him. Ivan admired a man who wasn't afraid to put in a hard day's work. The working man was the foundation of American society, even though the upper classes thought differently.

  Pasting a pleasant smile on his face, he rolled the window down, allowing fresh air to flood the cabin of the car.

  "Looks like you've got some trouble," Ivan said pleasantly.

  "Sure do. The storm last night caused quite a landslide. We've had a pretty wet summer around here."

  "I'm headed up to the Beaumont place. Can you tell me when this will be cleared?"

  "Sure thing, it'll be at least another day, possibly two, before you can get up there. They had some trouble with a small slide in the drive also."

  Ivan felt a jolt of alarm. "No one was hurt, were they?"

  The man shook his head. "I spoke to the house-sitter and he said no one was hurt, just made a big mess up there."

  "He?" Ivan paused. Had Erihn taken someone up there with her?

  "Yeah, don't remember his name, though. It was something odd." A wary look crossed the man's face. "I didn't catch your name."

  "Bob Taylor," he lied smoothly. He nodded to the muddy mess in front of him." You keep up the good work now, you hear?"

  The man stepped away from the car as Ivan put it in gear. Maneuvering carefully, he backed the car to a wide space and turned the rented Buick around. Waving at the man, he started back down the mountain, seething inside.

  First, there'd bee
n the horrendous hassle of finding out her real name. It'd cost him a pretty penny-not to mention the bribe to the editor's assistant to find out exactly where Erihn was going to do her research. The stupid cow had eaten a fortune in food, at Manhattan prices no less. And, to top it all off, the stupid woman really thought he was Erihn's brother!

  Next, there'd been the delay due to the storm and, now, to hear she'd shacked up with some man. He'd counted on Erihn being alone at the house. How dare she shack up with some gigolo? Women were whores... all of them.

  This certainly put a kink in his plans. He dropped his hand to his side and patted the gun strapped in the shoulder holster. Never mind. Regardless of this unexpected wrinkle, he'd handle it as he had everything before. It was important that he didn't forget the final prize, his wife returning to him.

  Soon, his beloved Mary would be back with him where she belonged.

  Erihn bent to grab the edge of the blanket and hiccupped. Clamping a hand over her mouth, she gave Fayne a mock glare as he laughed.

  "Sir, don't you realize it isn't nice to laugh at a lady?"

  He swept a low bow, grabbing the blanket on the way up. "Milady, truly I am sorry for offending thee. However," he grinned, "you aren't much of a drinker."

  She laughed. "Both Jennifer and Shai can validate that. I used to be quite a good drinker, but I find I don't recover as well as I used to."

  He tucked the blanket into the backpack along with their used picnic supplies. The sun was setting as they finished stowing everything.

  "I have a secret for you. Neither am I." He secured the top of the pack and held out his hand. "Mac has drunk me under the table quite a few times. He says I'm a cheap date."

  She smiled and slipped her hand into his. Their little picnic had gone a long way to setting her mind at ease. In the past hour, they'd chatted about everything. Their jobs, how they had nothing in common, their favorite movies and how they both loved action adventure movies, and their mutual love for their friends. Fayne also had a deliciously wicked sense of humor.

  They walked back to the bike in companionable silence, her discarded chaps draped over a nearby rock. He dropped the pack near the bike and propped himself against the seat. He nodded toward the west and she released his hand and turned to watch.