We’re sandwiched between two buildings and there is barely any light, but the moonlight finds her, sculpting shadows beneath her cheekbones and etching dark crescents of her lowered lashes. The rain has smeared her mascara, and water-slicked hair flattens to her head. She should look bedraggled, but she manages to be the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.
I bend, tentative at first, even after last night. Even after making love to her again this morning when I chased her up the stairs. I approach slowly, giving her the chance to refuse, but she doesn’t. She meets me, eyes open, lips eager, hands bunched in my wet hair. It’s a freshwater kiss, made of rain and passion. Slow touches pick up steam until we’re frantic against the wall, hands searching, desperate to find the flesh under our soaked clothes. The inside of her thigh is slick with rain, and I trace the droplets with my finger before inching higher and burrowing beneath her panties, inside.
“Do that, Doc,” she says, a breath-starved command. “Yes.”
I lean into the damp, scented curve of her neck, leaving kisses there while my finger is knuckle-deep in paradise. Every sound she makes gets me harder, ready. She kisses my jaw, my cheekbone, pulls my bottom lip between hers.
“We should stop,” I pant across her mouth. “I can’t . . . let’s stop before . . .” How do I tell her that if we don’t, I’ll be fucking her in an alley with no regard for who might see? How do I say that without sounding disrespectful and selfish?
“Don’t stop.” She fumbles at my waist, tugging the belt from its buckle and pulling the button loose, the zipper down. “Do it.”
“Baby.” I drop my head back and groan. So tempting. I want to so badly. “The rain should let up soon. We can make a dash for it to my house.”
“Or,” she says, working her hand into my pants; finding me. Squeezing me.
“Dammit, Nix,” I groan. “Don’t make me want you any more than I already do.”
“Or,” she says again, “you can do what we both want. Take what I want to give. Right here. Right now.”
Is it surrender when you both want it? I’m not sure if it’s her will or mine that wins out, but I hitch her up, my hands full of her ass, and lock her legs at my back. I reach between us to push her panties aside and plunge in.
I feel like a god.
Yet every time she gasps and groans and tightens around my body, she conquerors me. She’s indelible. I may end up with someone else, may even love someone someday, but there is a place Lennix Moon has carved out inside of me in a matter of a few days where only she will ever fit. It’s irrational and goes against all the rules I’ve set for myself, but she feels like mine. For the next two days, she is mine.
And then we’ll walk away.
That rule has always worked for me. It kept me focused through undergrad, my master’s and my PhD. It has me headed to Antarctica and other far reaches of the Earth to unlock the mysteries that could shape a generation. Tonight, though, my body has found a slick, sweet home inside of her, and when she comes, when I do, the words, the rules, sound like foolishness.
Her legs are still wrapped around my waist. Her elbows rest on my shoulders, and she’s pinned between me and a brick wall. Harsh breaths bounce between our mouths and steam the cool air around us.
“Can I ask you something?” she asks.
Still slightly breathless, I simply nod.
She lets her head fall against the brick wall so she can peer into my eyes, search them before asking her question. “Is it always like this?”
I know what she means. Volatile. Wild. Passionate. Satisfying. Perfect.
What do I say? That in my vast experience it’s never been like this? Never been a conflagration of savory smoke and white-hot flame? That I’ve never wanted to break my rules for anyone, no matter how good the sex? That when I saw her on that hill four years ago, I knew I’d never forget her, and that when I saw her again I knew I had to have her? And that being with her, being inside of her surpasses anything I’ve ever had with anyone else?
If I tell her the truth, it might lead her to believe I can break my rule.
Worse, I might believe it.
So I lie.
“Sometimes.”
She watches me for an extra second before nodding and shifting her hips.
“Shit,” I hiss. That simple movement feels so good, my dick stirs, and I want to start all over again, surge into her and lose all sense of the world except Lennix Moon Hunter as my one point of light.
“Dammit.” I shake my head, disgusted with sudden realization. “Forgot the condom. I’m so sorry, Nix.”
Her eyes widen. She bites her lip, her long lashes dropping.
“My godmother works at a clinic,” she says, her voice husky and her breath still short. “She’s had me on the pill since I was sixteen, and I’m clean. I mean, you know I’ve never been with anyone else.”
She meets my eyes, silently asking for my reply.
“I’m clean,” I rush to assure her. “Yeah, no. I always use protection and get tested regularly just to be . . . I’m clean, but I’m still sorry I got caught up that way. I would never want to make you feel unsafe.”
“Geest als ik meedoe?” a gruff male voice asks a few feet deeper into the alleyway, just beyond the edge of light.
“Fuck off,” I snap, turning Lennix’s head into my neck so he can’t see her face.
“What’d he say?” she mumbles, her breath warm against my skin.
“Um, he asked if he could join us,” I grit out, mortified that I put her in this position.
A muffled giggle rasps into my hair. I pull back, staring down at her in the faint light from the street. “Are you . . . laughing?” I ask, the grin on my own face surprising me.
Her legs drop from my waist and her feet hit the ground. She presses her palms to my chest, leaning forward and looking up at me with a wide smile. “You have to admit it’s kind of funny.”
“No, I don’t.” I slide my hands down to frame her hips. “The rain has let up some. Let’s get out of here before he presses the issue. I’d prefer not to end up in a Dutch prison.”
I take her hand and we venture back out into the street. Now there’s only the faintest drizzle, a steady light shower. She lifts her arms, spreading her fingers like some young goddess receiving an offering poured from the sky. The rivulets bathe her face, crystalline drops clinging to the curled tips of her lashes. Something clinches in my chest at the sight of her. Some part of me moves that I didn’t know existed. I take her arm and stop us in the middle of the street, in the middle of the rain, in the middle of one of the most beautiful cities in the world, and I kiss her.
Even drenched by a downpour, we’re thirsty for each other. Her mouth goes wide and searches under mine. I feel every line and curve of her body through the wet dress clinging to her. I cling to her. My shoes are slogged, droplets run down my back, but lightning would have to strike us before I’d let her go.
Finally, she pulls away, her eyes as dazed as I feel. Her mouth, swollen, and wet with raindrops and kisses, curves into a secret smile. She walks ahead, turning to face me and keeps stepping backward. She flicks her head in the direction of my house, which is in view, but still over a hundred feet away.
“Race?” she asks.
Before I can answer, she takes off, slipping on the cobblestones, pumping her arms and legs. Her siren laughter drifts back to me, and I shake myself, running to catch her. She’s halfway up the steps of my rented house when I zip past her to reach the door a second before she does.
“No fair,” she breathes, exerted, gorgeous.
“You even had a head start.” I laugh, unlocking and opening the door, and then dragging her in with me by the hand. “To the victor go the spoils.”
I haul her over my shoulder and charge up the steps.
“Doc!” She bangs half-heartedly on my back, her giggles bouncing off the high ceilings. “Put me down!”
I take her through my bedroom and keep going to the bathroom.
Her head drops back, and she leans into my hand, her moan acoustic in the large empty bathroom. I sit her on the counter so her legs dangle. I lower to the floor and kiss the high, delicate arch of each foot, then behind her knees. I press my lips in a straight line of kisses up her inner thighs to her pussy, lured by the heavy, intimate scent of her. I’m starved for it, biting the plump lips and sucking the bud tucked inside.
“Good grief, Nix,” I breathe against her thigh. “Your pussy is spoiling me for all others.”
She laughs, holding my head between her hands and running her fingers through my hair. When I glance up, deep affection floods her eyes. She puts her foot on my shoulder and gives me a shove, knocking me on my ass. She hops off the counter and sprints back into my bedroom, flopping onto the mattress and opening her legs. The laughter melts from her face leaving only brazen invitation. An invitation impossible for me to resist.
When I reach the bed, she rises to her knees and tugs my belt, the glance she gives me penetrative, starved and digging deep.
“I want you in my mouth, Doc.”
Not looking away or saying a word, I pull my pants and briefs down, freeing my cock. I guide her to the edge of the bed and over the side, pushing her onto her knees. I don’t know how long I’ve envisioned her this way, but it’s a fantasy I plan to fully indulge. I nod to the tiny space separating her lips from my dick. “Do it then.”
She lowers her head and those full lips wrap around me, taking as much down her throat as she can. I wrap her hair around my fist and press deeper until she gags just a little.
“Too much?” I rasp, not sure I’ll survive it if she takes even another inch.
She doesn’t look away, those nimbus-cloud eyes dark, and eases more of me in.
“Fuck.” I cup her jaw and caress the muscles in her throat as she starts working her mouth around me, a suction so perfect my vision goes blurry for a second. If I look at the way I disappear in her mouth, I’ll lose it down her throat, and I want this to last as long as humanly possible.
With my eyes closed, every other sense awakens. The mewling little sounds she makes, like a thirsty cat at a trough of cream. The way her nails dig into my thighs, little claws holding me still so she can get it just how she wants. The warm, wet brush of her tongue and the lining of her cheeks caressing my cock. It feels so good, like she peeled back the skin and is sucking my nerves.
“Nix, I’m gonna . . .”
I open my eyes and know it’s a lost cause. Her eyes are squeezed shut, and I’m so far down her throat, choking her just enough for tears to slip over her cheeks. The sight of her like that . . . I try to pull her mouth away in time, but she opens her eyes, stares at me and deliberately moves my hand, linking our fingers while she sucks and swallows. With my other hand, I press the back of her head, pushing in deeper and letting myself go, shedding all thought and giving in to an unbridled fucking of her mouth.
“Shit.” I can barely speak, and I come so hard, spilling down her throat, overflowing the sides, running down her neck. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen. She licks from base to crown, torturing me even more.
When she’s done, we crawl onto the bed. She hovers over me, kissing me, feeding me the salty taste lingering on her lips and coating the sweet interior of her mouth. Never breaking the tender kiss, she lies down beside me. Exhausted, we lay our heads on one pillow, twist our hands together between our chests, and in the tumble of sheets and rain-damp bodies, we fall asleep. And in my dreams, we make love all night.
18
Lennix
I’m there again, standing on a rise of rock overlooking the sacred grounds where my tribe has wed and danced and sung and mourned. We cluster at the edge of the cliff, watching the clearing. Mena, my father, Mr. Paul—everyone from my Sunrise Dance all stand with me. A gentle touch pushes my hair away from my face.
“Mama,” I whisper. My throat burns and she blurs in front of me through a scrim of tears. “I thought you were gone. They said you were gone.”
“No.” Mama’s eyes shimmer with tears, too. “Never. I’m always here, Lenn. Always with you.”
I reach for her, needing to hold her, to feel her solid and soft against me, but she disappears.
A sound forces my attention to the plains below. The trees, there moments before, are gone now and the land has been invaded by monstrous machines. They claw through the dirt, overturning clumps of it and shoving it aside. The bulldozer’s massive jaw scoops up the earth and an arm dangles over its row of steel teeth. The truck turns and drops its burden of soil and limbs to the ground. The body falls and rolls over, revealing the face. Lifeless eyes stare back at me through a veil of dark hair.
A low, keening scream builds from my belly and scrambles up my throat. “Mama!”
19
Maxim
I wake to the sound of Lennix’s terror and reach to turn on the bedside lamp. She kicks and strikes out. I put my arms around her and press her back to my chest.
“Nix,” I say, my voice sharpening as I force my way to full consciousness. “Nix, baby, stop.”
“Mama,” she mutters, tossing her head back so hard she nails my chin.
I work my jaw and flip her onto her back. “Lennix, wake up.”
“Mama, oh God,” she says fretfully, her eyes still closed. “Come back. Mama, don’t go. Don’t go.”
The words jumble, dissolving into sobs that shake her shoulders and crumple her pretty face.
“Shhhh.” I bend my lips to her ear. “I’m here. Hey, I’m right here.”
When I push her hair back, she stills, grabbing my hand and bringing it to her face. She kisses my hand and her tears wet my fingers.
“Mama,” she says, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. “I thought . . . I thought . . .”
“I’m here,” I whisper to her. I’m not sure if I’m telling her that I’m her mother to keep her calm, or if I’m telling her that I’m here, but it doesn’t matter. I am here, and I want to do whatever I can to ease this pain.
In slow blinks, she comes awake. She looks up at me and then around the room.
“Was I dreaming?” The words emerge hoarse and hesitant.
“Yeah.” I brush tears from her cheeks, that same spot in my chest going tight seeing her pain as when I witnessed her simple joy in the rain.
“I woke you up,” she says. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
I lie down beside her. She’s shaking, and I can’t tell if it’s a reaction from the dream, or the coolness of the room.
“Are you cold?” I pull away to get out of bed and adjust the temperature.
“No.” She grabs my arm under the sheet and huddles into me, her bare skin cool against mine. “Please just . . . hold me.” Her laugh comes shaky and thin. “You said no attachments, and here I am in your bed, clinging and crying and—”
“You know that’s not what I meant.” I tuck her into my side and kiss her hair.
I hesitate when she doesn’t respond, but just shivers against me.
“You remember your dream? You want to talk about it?”
An anxious breath is her only response. I’m about to move on, make sure she knows she doesn’t have to talk about it, but then she nods. I wait a few more beats while she grips my arm a little tighter.
“I’ve had the dream before. I’m always at the cliffs overlooking the valley where Cade laid the pipeline.”
When she mentions Cade, I’m not sure if she means my father or the company, but I know to her they’re one and the same.
“We’re all there.” Her short chuckle breezes over my skin. “Even your friend and mine, Mr. Paul.”
I chuckle a little, too, but I still hear her crying in her sleep, frantic and trapped in her unconsciousness, still feel her shivering against me, so her comment only goes so far to lighten the moment.
“My mom is there.” Her voice cracks and she pulls in a wispy breath. “She’s so beautiful. So alive. And then she’s not.”
“What happens?”
“When I look down again, the construction trucks are there and they dig up my mom’s body.”
I pull her closer, unable to wrap my arms around her tightly enough. “I’m so sorry.”
“It . . . there’s just no closure, you know? The cops were a joke when she disappeared. I mean, it’s so tough getting justice when our women go missing.”
“Why is that?”
“Sometimes it’s complicated because of where it happens. If it’s on a reservation, most Indian nations are so limited in criminal authority over non-Indians. Communication between local police and tribal sucks, and there’s bureaucratic breakdown. Mostly they simply don’t care as much, if you ask me. Whatever the reason, it’s tougher to protect Native women and to prosecute for them. The trail grew so cold with my mom’s case, we found nothing.”
“No one was ever arrested or even questioned?”
“No. They found her phone beside her car and traces of her . . .” She pauses to clear her throat. “Traces of her blood like maybe there had been a struggle, but nothing that could lead us anywhere.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“It’s like when someone you love disappears like that, you don’t want to stop hoping. There’s no body. No certainty, so there’s this stubborn part of you that refuses to believe they’re gone. There will be some miracle. They’ve been abducted. They’ve been in someone’s basement for years and just when you’re about to give up hope, they’ll escape.” Her laugh is humorless and pained.
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