Restless Spirit (4 page)

Chapter Six

He came in at about nine o’clock and stood out like nobody’s business. Beautiful in a nearly fragile way. Soft brown hair shot with gold fell to his jaw line. Big blue-green eyes below full lashes that put most women to shame. Black jeans, blue button-down shirt, a loosely knotted red tie, a striped vest and well-worn brown Doc Martens on his feet. He did a double take when he saw me, gave me a half smile that made me curious.

I looked away, suddenly flustered. Was Allister Lake a magnet for oddly attractive men or was I just on some mission to start a whole new life, between my legs and otherwise.

‘That’s your table. You trying to wait on him with your psychic powers?’ Irv was smiling at me.

I snorted, quickly covered my nose and shook my head. ‘Sorry,’ I said and hurried over.

‘Hi, there. I’m Tuesday, what can I get you to drink?’ My tongue felt too big and my brain too small. Plus I had the most bizarre sensation of déjà vu when I looked at him. Like I’d met him before.

‘Tuesday. Like Wells?’ His eyes were shiny and kind. His demeanour friendly but subtle. He seemed like the kind of man who thought about everything that was said to him. And then thought carefully about what he wanted to say in response.

‘Like Cane.’ I smiled.

‘Ah, I was close. Was it your grandmother who just passed?’

Had everyone known Nan? Then I considered the size of Allister Lake proper and even the small surrounding town, and I realised they probably had.

‘Yep. She did. That’s me … her granddaughter’ I walled off the wave of grief and smiled at him. The door opened and the bell jingled and Irv cleared his throat and I leaned in,’ I’m sorry, but it’s my first night, we’re super busy and Irv thinks I’m lingering. Can I get you a drink?’

‘I’m very sorry for your loss,’ he whispered back and then, ‘Dr Pepper.’

‘Thank you.’ I smiled.

He nodded. ‘Alas, the gods finally drop an interesting woman in my lap here at AL and she has to rush off.’

‘AL?’

‘Allister Lake.’

‘Duh,’ I said.

He winked at me, and to my shock and dismay, I felt that wink in my belly and lower. ‘Hey, you’re new. Give it a few weeks and you’ll be a local and you’ll be abbreviating it too.’

‘Ahem!’ Irv said.

I pointed to pretty boy with my pen. ‘I’ll get your Dr Pepper … um … Mr …’

‘Reed,’ he said. ‘My name is Reed Green.’

‘Like Mr Green Jeans!’ I said. Then I turned fast and prayed to drop dead. Because that always impresses a good looking man … a Captain Kangaroo reference.

I pulled his Dr Pepper and took his order, fish sandwich with lettuce, mayo and a toasted roll, an order of fries and lemon meringue pie for dessert. When I delivered the pie I blurted, ‘Undercover Father!’

He grinned at me and I felt that curl of heat in my gut again. Which made me think of Shepherd and what he’d done to me. And that made me think of meeting him in an hour and that made me antsy.

‘Good job.’ He tucked into the pie, rolled his eyes, took another bite.

‘And then–’

‘And then some other nothing-special, average TV shows and two movies and I got bored.’ He smiled as if to say end of story.

‘Oh, sure. I’m sorry. And now you …’

Why had I started that sentence?

‘Now, I write screenplays sometimes – if I feel like it – and have a berry picking farm.’

I laughed. ‘A what?’

‘A berry picking farm.’ He gave me a teasing smile.

‘Ah, see, I look at you and immediately think berry farmer.’

The traffic into Irv’s Eats was slowing down and Irv did not clear his throat at me. ‘As you should. Former TV star and now berry man.’

I smiled, realising when I glanced at the clock that in less than an hour I’d be at Shepherds. I had a vision of him on his knees, my fidgety fingers clutching my thighs as I came, water dripping from my hair, rain on the windows. I sighed without thinking about it.

‘You OK?’

‘I am. Sorry. My brain is racing, I just moved here, new job … just new everything.’

‘Ah, let me take you for a drink tonight and calm you down.’ His features were fine and almost delicate. High cheekbones, flawless skin, and Lord, those October sky blue eyes. I almost said yes and then, ‘I can’t. I have plans.’

‘Of course.’ There was that boyish smile, smooth silken voice that wasn’t too deep and manly or too soft and feminine. It was a liquid silver voice that flowed and calmed and made you think happy thoughts. ‘What was I thinking? A gorgeous young thing like you moves to town and I think I’d get first opportunity to woo you? Crazy old man.’

‘Old? Like what? Thirty?’

‘Thirty-three. See? What do you know?’

‘That you’re a whole four years older than me. Are you calling me old, Mr Green?’

‘Would it earn me a drink?’

‘No.’

‘A smack?’

‘Maybe.’ I took the tab and the money he offered.

‘How about you just let me take you for a drink on a night you don’t have plans and I can tell you how you don’t look a day over twenty-two.’

‘Deal,’ I said. ‘I’ll go get your change.’

‘No need. The top bill is yours. The rest are for Irv. Tell him the pie was perfect.’

The top bill was a twenty and it had a phone number scrawled on it. I tucked it in my apron pocket and went to the cash register. When I turned to say goodnight, Reed Green was gone.

I pushed my hands to my belly when I parked outside Shepherd’s house. Lights burned behind those opaque windows and now they made me think of haunted eyes. ‘Haunted, Nan,’ I sighed to my grandmother.

Another sudden fist of guilt punched me in the chest and I sobbed out loud before gritting my teeth.

‘Jesus, don’t cry,’ I hissed. I undid my braids in fast angry motions to distract myself. I so did not want to cry.

But I did cry. So I sat there with my hand gripping the steering wheel, head down as if praying, and let myself cry for all I was worth. My make-up would be ruined, there would be no hiding this little fit of emotion, but what else could I do. I missed my grandmother and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d let her down. Throw in all the fucking and attraction and new life and I was a basket case of feelings.

Bleh.

The door opened suddenly and I sat up startled. ‘What?’

‘You coming in or are you going to sit outside all night?’

‘I’m sorry,’ I sniffled and wiped my eyes with my trembling fingers. ‘I was trying to save face.’

‘No need.’ He put his hand out and I took it, a warmth that came to me only with comfort slid across my skin warming me inside and out.

That struck me as funny and I giggled all the way to the front door as he led me. It had started raining again. The drops on my skin triggered a sensory memory of his hot mouth pressed to my damp panties. I curled my fingers against his skin and followed.

Inside he took a towel from a small chair in the foyer and wiped my face. ‘Virginia?’

There was no use denying it, so I simply nodded. ‘I miss her. And I failed her.’

He laughed. ‘Not to hear her talk. You were the light of her life and the talk of this town.’

‘I haven’t come for a proper visit in ages. She either came to town to see me or it was a drive through on the way to somewhere else.’

‘You were living the life she wanted you to.’ He touched my bottom lip but then turned suddenly and led me down the hall.

‘Oh yeah? My grandmother wanted me with a douche bag who slowly but surely decided his favourite form of entertainment was taking a swing or two at me?’ I said it under my breath but the venom in my voice was as clear as the lake air.

His eyes went dark and he leaned against the wall. ‘Is that what you lived like?’ Even I couldn’t miss the fact that his big hands reflexively clenched into fists. Very large fists that were trained to do damage.

I had a burst of fear and it must have shown on my face.

‘Are you afraid of me?’

‘No. I’m afraid for whoever those fists are for. But I don’t get the feeling that’s me.’

That made him smile and my body relaxed.

‘How did it end with that man? The one I should go find and beat within an inch of his life?’

‘I took my old Louisville Slugger to him. He walked funny after that.’

Shepherd grinned. He reached out and stroked my hair. I held my breath for a heartbeat but then it went wild in my chest and I had to suck in some oxygen. I sucked in even more when his hand quickly twisted in my hair and he tugged me against him. His mouth crushed down on mine and I didn’t think, didn’t consider, I parted my lips for him and let his tongue thrust along mine so that I felt the kiss in my cunt.

‘I can picture it,’ he said softly. His lips grazed my jaw line and my entire body tingled with the sensation. He plucked my nipple roughly through my tee and I sighed, sagging a little in his arms. ‘I can picture you all fired up and angry. Violent. Someone to be reckoned with.’

His arms crushed me against him and I felt the hard hump of his cock between my legs. I wanted him. I wanted him in me and over me and rocking against me so I said his name when I came.

‘Shep–’ was all I managed when he kissed me again. Big hands cupping my ass, trapping my front to his front. I could feel his heartbeat wild and unmanageable like mine and the heat of him seeping into my pores and helping me shake off the chill of the damp night.

‘Food,’ he said, pulling free. ‘Steak like I promised.’

My nipple still throbbed in time with my pulse and my pussy was doing the same. I shook my head to clear it and tried to steady my racing mind. ‘Right. I am starving, actually. Hard to believe that I spent all night working around food and didn’t eat a single thing.’

On the eating side of the wide kitchen-dining room combo, warm sconce lights shone. The table was set with mismatched china and placemats. Wild flowers graced the centre of the table, rising up out of an antique milk glass pitcher. I smiled – my kind of décor. Laid back, easy and comfortable.

‘You sit, I’ll serve.’

I obeyed, touching the pale yellow plate that rested on a blue and white checked placemat. His was a red plate on a pale green and white striped mat. The napkins were white, the salt and pepper shakers shaped like a chicken and an egg. I ran my fingers over the rough wide plank wood table. I loved his house.

‘You don’t mind that they’re mismatched, do you?’

I shook my head. ‘No, I like it. It’s how Nan was. If it was pretty and still serviceable, you used it. She called it shabby chic or sometimes country charm.’

He nodded decisively bringing in a platter bearing two beautiful T-bones and baked potatoes.

‘Can I help?’ I shifted in my seat wanting to please him – an odd and somewhat unwelcome urge in my current state of life.

‘Nope. You sit. Let me grab the salad and the water pitcher.’

I studied the sconces to realise they were cut wine bottles set into bases over light bulbs. Shepherd put the water pitcher down – speckleware which again made me insanely happy for some reason – and then snapped his fingers.

‘You can pour our water; I’ll go get the wine.’

Then he was kissing me. A sweet and somehow familiar kiss that I imagined husbands and wives shared often. But we weren’t married and we’d just met and that fact stole my breath because when he pulled back and left I realised … it had felt right. That kiss had felt perfect and wonderful.

And it scared the shit out of me.

I poured our water, determined not to think about it.

Chapter Seven

Somehow I made it through dinner, though sitting across from him had me on edge. Not uncomfortable on edge, lust-laden on edge.

‘Are you OK?’

I was eating my apple pie, fresh bought I was told, from Caitlin’s bakery which kicked the formal bakery’s ass all over town. Apparently if you lived here, you ate Caitlin’s pies. And when he’d said that, I fucking blushed like a virgin.

‘I’m fine.’

‘You seem uneasy.’

‘I’m not uneasy.’

‘O-K.’ he dragged the word out. His eyes never stopped though. It was as if he were analysing every breath I took, every move, every nuance. ‘Good.’

Shepherd started to trace his fingers in and out of the dips between my fingers. Slowly. Every inch his fingertip travelled was another spike of heat in my pelvis. I swallowed hard and smiled.

‘Meet anyone interesting tonight?’ he asked. He gave me a small half smile and I realised he was teasing me. He knew I was on edge and he was playing with me. He knew how badly I wanted him and he was fucking with me.

‘I … um …’ Each sweeping touch wiped my brain so I could barely focus or form a thought. I forced myself to see faces and blurted. ‘I met the Andrews. You know they have twins and–’

‘And triplets.’ He nodded. ‘Good, and?’

‘And I met Mrs Gabriel. She has the worst–’

‘Wig,’ he said and lifted my hand to kiss my fingers. I opened my mouth only to snap it shut. A thrumming pulse had started between my legs and everything else in me was just background noise. I was nothing more than my lust for Shepherd Moore at that moment in time. I embodied it.

Think, Tuesday. Think!

‘I met the reverend and he did not like my h–’

‘Hair at all,’ Shepherd finished. He sucked my finger into his mouth and the pull of his tongue on me sounded in my cunt. I shifted in my seat and it only made the wet need worse.

‘It’s whore hair,’ I whispered

He straightened up a bit. ‘He said that to you?’

‘No,’ I laughed, able to take a deep breath since he was distracted. ‘I heard him telling the woman he was with. Her name was …’

‘Mildred. That’s his sister. Seriously, sometimes I think they’re doing each other.’

I let out a joyful shriek, but then his mouth was back on my hand and he said, ‘Go on.’

His tongue was hot. And I knew what that fucking tongue could do. Through panties, no less. ‘I … um …’

‘Cat got your tongue?’

‘No, your tongue’s got my brain. All locked up,’ I admitted in a breathy whisper. Hearing the state of my voice I felt even more flustered.

‘Just one more.’

He held my hands now. Over the table. Very proper. His thumbs sweeping back and forth over the surprisingly tender flesh above my own thumbs. My nipples spiked against my bra, reminding me that all I really wanted was to have him in me. Holding me down and fucking me. It had been in my mind a lot, when I wasn’t fucking Adrian, or flirting with Reed, for God’s sake.

Greedy.

But it made me smile, all the attraction and want and joyous flirting and more. I had lived a bottled up life for a while. I’d broken free and had moved on. My only regrets were breaking Stan’s heart and not getting to Nan in time. But I knew what Nan would tell me if she were here: guilt is a wasted emotion. If you must entertain it, make it quick and get on with it. I wanted to go forward in my life with ballsy bravery. Right now I owed nothing to anyone but myself.

‘Reed Green,’ I said.

His face shut down on me. He released my hands. His eyes went from open and warm to shuttered.

What had I said?

‘Oh yeah?’

‘Yeah. Why? What’s wrong with you two? What did I say?’

He stood, clearing the table. ‘Nothing. You said nothing. I just don’t like him is all. He’s a womaniser.’

‘Oh yeah?’ I laughed. ‘Uses his fame to woo them, does he?’

He cocked his head at me and then shook it in disgust. ‘You could say that. And he’s so goddamned pretty, so you know they all swoon.’

I chewed the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. I had a feeling that would upset Shepherd even more. First Adrian had an issue with Shepherd and now Shepherd had an issue with Reed. Either there were women in their history or this was small town life.

‘And for fuck’s sake,’ he said, taking a pile of dishes to the sink. ‘Who stops acting to run a berry picking fucking farm?’

‘Is that the official term?’ I asked, pressing my lips into a tight seam. I would not laugh.

I was right on his heels and he whirled too fast and knocked me off balance. I clutched the wine glasses and pitcher but started to lose them. Shepherd righted the pitcher and me. I let out a startled whoop and then laughed.

‘It is,’ he growled. ‘It is the official term.’

He plucked the dainty wine glasses from me and put them in the sink.

‘Well who stops ultimate cage fighting – not just fighting but cage fighting – to be a handyman?’ I put my hands on my hips and waited.

‘I do.’

‘So he can’t pick berries?’

He shook his head. ‘Never mind. You’d have to live here to get it.’

His eyes were riveted to my red tee and I was starting to feel naked. ‘I do live here,’ I whispered.

I touched his beard. I couldn’t resist. Normally I despised facial hair but with him it fit so well. It was so aggressive and yet seemed like something he hid behind. I petted it with the tops of my fingers feeling its wiry yet soft texture against my skin.

‘Just for a while,’ he said. He caught my hand, stilling it.

I stood on tiptoe and kissed him. ‘I’d like to live here a long time.’

‘Maybe you should go,’ he said.

‘Why’s that? You don’t like me any more?’

‘I do. I like you too much. And I’m not a good pick for someone like you.’

‘What kind of someone am I?’

I tried to pull my hands free but he wouldn’t release them so I played the sneaky card and pressed my body tight to his. I rocked my hips and felt the press of his erection to the split of my sex.

‘A nice person.’

‘You’re nice too. What you did earlier was nice. And I want to be nice with you again.’

His eyes were so fucking dark. Impossibly dark. And full of lust so staggering I felt it run along my skin like an electrical current.

‘Take your clothes off.’

I stood up straight and did my best to meet him eye to eye. ‘You take them off,’ I said.

He bully-walked me back, trapping my hands between his much bigger ones at my chest. He nudged me along until the backs of my thighs met the lip of his table. In front of one of those big blind-eye windows. I wondered if people could see our silhouettes outside. I wondered if they could see what we were doing.

The possibility that they could sent a thrill through me and my pussy clenched up tight, wanting him, wanting this so damn bad I could taste it.

Shepherd pushed me back – rough enough to make me break out in goosebumps. He tugged my red tee over my head and dropped it in my dinner chair. He worked my button and zipper with ease, shocking for such big fingers, and tugged my pants down.

‘Black,’ he said.

‘What?’ My head was buzzing. From him, not wine. I stared up at him, relishing the feel of his palm sliding along my belly just above my panties.

‘Your panties are black.’ He stroked them. From waistband to gusset making sure to scrape along my clit. I arched up mindlessly, holding my breath and feeling my heart in my temples. ‘And silk.’

‘Satin,’ I laughed.

‘Same thing basically.’

He tugged them free and I was aware of every inch that scrap of soft fabric slid. Shepherd dropped those on top of my jeans and slid his hands under my ass. I felt shy and bold and so fucking light headed I feared I’d lose consciousness.

‘Open your legs for me, Tuesday.’ His eyes were already penetrating me. A wave of pleasure flooded through me at just his eyes on me. It felt like he was touching me when he stared that way.

I let my thighs fall open and his eyes were there. Between my legs. On a place I rarely ever looked – but he was studying me the way I’d seen people study rare flowers or beautiful butterflies. I wriggled under his gaze.

‘Stay still,’ he said. His hands pinned my thighs wide and stilled my restless movement. ‘I want to look at you. Before I suck you.’

I moaned then. Just as if he’d touched me. I made that noise and waited to feel ashamed, instead I felt honest.

A man had never said that to me before. It was always lick or kiss or God help me one time suckle. But suckle made me think of distinctly non-sexy things. And all of that ran through my head as I tried so hard to stay so still but continued to undulate and sway like sea grass in a stormy lake.

His hands were huge, spanning my hipbones, anchoring me to the rough wood table. He dropped to his knees, so tall he still almost looked like he was standing from my angle. His head dipped, beard scratching my inner thighs and he took my clit in his mouth and sucked.

My fingers tangled in the placemats. My hair swished under my hand as I moved it back and forth to try and find some kind of equilibrium. ‘Jesus,’ was the only brilliant thing I could think to say.

‘Hush, Tuesday.’

He sucked softly and then harder when his fingers, unimpeded by panties this time, slipped into me and began fucking me. Deep thrusts that he curled up perfectly on the upward motion. My hips tried to rise up and he used his forearm to shut me down.

I whimpered, frustrated but so, so turned on.

His tongue speared my wet hole and then his fingers slid back home, filling me and nudging me into a slow sweet orgasm that took all the noise from my throat and all the air from my lungs.

Shepherd stood, eyes glazed and darker than I’d ever seen them. The low ethereal light from his sconces backlit the bits of silver in his beard and his hair. He licked his lips and I reached for him.

He took a step back. ‘Don’t move.’

He unbuttoned his jeans and shucked his dark boxer briefs. His cock was big. I don’t know why that surprised me. He was big. All over. Easily six foot six, two hundred and thirty pounds, give or take.

Surely he could palm a basketball or someone’s skull if he was in the cage. And yet, I was still surprised at the size of him. The length and the girth. When he took himself in hand and stroked, my whole body rippled with desire. I became kinetic.

He toed off his socks and opened a door in the sideboard and pulled out his wallet. I watched him rip the foil packet and roll the condom on and all the time, his fingers on his own flesh was a mesmerising sight to me.

I spread my legs, baring my sex for him as he advanced – shameless, needy, restless, like I might die if he didn’t touch me.

‘Stop moving,’ he said.

I froze. It took all of my energy to keep myself still as he traced my labia with his warm fingers. He tested me then, thrusting deep, my pussy so wet we both heard the accepting noise it made when he fingered me.

My cheeks flared hot but I kept my gaze steady.

Shepherd pushed the head of his cock to my slit and gripped my hips. ‘Do you want this?’

‘Of course.’

‘Say it.’

‘I want this.’

‘It’s not too soon?’ he asked, looking both aggressive and sincerely concerned.

‘I’m learning there’s no such thing as too soon.’ I let my legs fall open just a bit more and he made a noise that came from deep in his chest.

Shepherd didn’t drive into me. He inched into me. Slowly. The rough pad of his thumb pressed my clit as he slid home and I watched him. How his stomach muscles flexed and his biceps moved and his jaw clenched tight. He gripped my breast with his right hand and lightly plucked the nipple until it stood up straight. Then he bent his bulk over me and took the nub in between his sweetly sharp teeth and nipped me.

When I gasped and moved he slid all the way in, forcing his cock deep into my body. Making my cunt adjust and grip up around him. We froze that way, sprawled over the wooden table – face to face. His breath hot on my face, his hands rough on my skin.

‘Move,’ I whispered. ‘Oh God, Shepherd, please move.’

He started to rock into me. Languid even thrusts that inched me across the table top until he gripped me tight and held me still. I couldn’t remember being that boldly honest before. Not naked, not face to face, not fucking.

I had needed him to move, to quench the need inside of me, and I had asked for it in a raw and honest voice. It startled even me.

His thumb pressed and rolled, spreading my own fluids over the hard knot of my clit. Shepherd drove deep, watching me as I watched him. His hips pistoning so the small cut muscles along his flanks stood out and danced.

He grabbed my ankles, bringing them up to rest on his shoulders before returning his thumb to rub me some more. I arched up some, using his broad shoulders for leverage and he never batted an eye. His cock slammed my G-spot repeatedly, brushing all the sweet spots along the way and he gave me one final press and rub and I was coming, trying so hard not to drum my ankles against his skin.

He didn’t care. ‘You ripple when you come. Like tight warm water on my cock.’ He laughed softly when he said it and then pulled free. Offering me a hand he said, ‘Up.’

I stood, holding his hand – and glad I was, because my knees felt weak and watery.

He turned me, bending me over the table, spread between our still present placemats: my body lying down the centre between the two colourful swatches of fabric. Shepherd kneed my legs apart a bit more and then leaned over me again. Placing my left wrist as far as it would go and then my right. ‘Grip the table,’ he said and I did. I curled my fingers around the rough wood and realised I was panting.

I was terrified, mortified and entirely turned on. I was being studied like some girl-specimen and normally that would make me run. For whatever reason, with Shepherd, it made me stay just as he’d placed me. I could feel his eyes on me and my heartbeat sped up to the point of dizziness.

Fingers pushed into me and thrust in and out so that I could hear the soaking wet evidence of my want between my thighs. He drove a finger gently but effortlessly into my ass and I bucked then. Not from pain, from surprise.