A warm, dry wind ruffled my hair and I walked on up the black-top path that curved into the night. I was wishing I had brought the canister of mace Barb had given me when Douglas had first moved out. I kept meaning to attach it to my key-ring and kept forgetting to do it.
“Shadow?” I called nervously but there wasn’t even a distant bark in return. Great, I knew I shouldn’t have let him off the leash. I began to have that itchy, prickly sensation between my shoulder blades you get when you feel like you’re being watched. Just your imagination, I told myself. Stop being so jumpy. But the feeling just wouldn’t go away.
“Shadow?” I called again but the voice that answered me wasn’t my new pet’s.
“Hey sweetheart, lookin’ for some company?”
I turned quickly, feeling my heart pound in my throat to see the large, bulky shape of a man approaching me in the gloom.
“Actually, I’m calling my dog.” I said it as calmly as I could but my voice still came out high and nervous. “He’s quite large and … and extremely vicious.”
“That right?” There was a sneer in his voice that said he didn’t believe me for a second.
“Yeah,” I said, my voice trembling a lot more than I would’ve liked. “He’s trained to attack on command.” As I spoke I realized that I had no idea if Shadow was protective or not. Possibly he was one of those dogs that was just a big softie and wouldn’t hurt a fly.
A friend of Patty’s had a Doberman like that. To see it, you’d think it would tear you to shreds but it wouldn’t attack anybody—just too lazy and good natured, Patty’s friend insisted. But regardless of whether he was viciously protective or not, at least Shadow was imposing, and I was wishing with all my heart that I hadn’t let him run free off the leash and get away from me.
“Shadow,” I called again, raising my voice above the chirping crickets. My only answer was the long, liquid howl of a coyote. It was a desolate sound that tore at my insides.
“Seems like your doggie ain’t here ‘less that was him just now,” remarked the man. He moved closer suddenly and I realized I was just standing there like an idiot in the darkness, watching this stranger advance on me.
“He’ll be here any minute,” I said, backing up a step, not wanting to take my eyes off the approaching shape. I still couldn’t see his face but the black outline of his body against the night sky was huge and menacing.
“Stay away from me,” I said, backing up another step.
He came towards me again, apparently through with talking. I saw something glint silver and sharp in one of his hands.
I took another step back, a huge, fumbling gesture, what we called a ‘giant’ step when we were kids. My foot landed on a loose stone in the path and suddenly I was on my back, the wind knocked out of me with a harsh gasp.
The man laughed, a hoarse, eager sound that was somehow greedy. The silver flashed in his hand again, the cold moonlight skating along the edge of a blade and I knew it was a knife. I didn’t even have the breath to scream as he advanced on me, towering over me like an evil ogre in a fairy tale. But this wasn’t a fairy tale, it was a nightmare.
“Please…” I formed the word with my lips but no sound came out. This wasn’t how they taught you to do things in self-defense class, I reminded myself. You were supposed to scream and make as much noise and trouble for your attacker as possible. But the fall had winded me and I felt like my heart was pounding right between my teeth. I couldn’t breathe past its frantic bulk.
“This is how it’s gonna be,” he said, kneeling in front of me and placing a rough hand on the inside of my thigh. I had changed into shorts and a t-shirt before taking Shadow to the park. Now I wished I had on long pants, something that offered more protection.
“Please,” I said again. This time the words were audible, at least to me. I felt frozen in place.
“You’re gonna come with me and we’ll have a little fun,” he continued as though I hadn’t spoken at all. His breath smelled like stale beer and peanuts. “You keep quiet and maybe I’ll let you go afterwards.” The long silver blade was suddenly inches from my face and the hand on my thigh clamped down in a hard pinch that made me gasp.
All I could think was, Oh, God, I’m going to die.
Chapter 6
“Leave her alone.”
For a moment I couldn’t figure out where this new voice was coming from and then I realized that someone was looming over my attacker in the darkness. The moon was behind him and I couldn’t see his face but his eyes glinted fiercely in the gloom the way an animal’s eyes will glow in the dark.
The eyes in the dark seemed to galvanize me, give me strength somehow. I pulled back my leg and punched it forward, catching the man leaning over me with as much force as I could in the throat. His attention had been focused on the voice behind him and I caught him off guard.
With a strangled curse he tumbled to one side clawing at his neck as though he had a bone stuck in his throat. The man with the glowing eyes caught him neatly and I had a blurred impression of several swift, brutal blows being landed as I scrambled away.
The back of my t-shirt had rucked up and the loose gravel, still warm from the scorching day-time sun scraped across it mercilessly. I managed to turn and get to my hands and knees and then to my feet. There were tiny pieces of gravel imbedded in my palms. Behind me dull thuds and strangled cries let me know the beating was still going on but I didn’t stop to see who was winning. I stumbled blindly along in the darkness, headed for the dim glow of the parking lot, just wanting to get away.
The sounds behind me stopped abruptly and I heard someone shouting.
“Hey, come back! I need to talk to you.”
The voice sounded vaguely familiar but my world had narrowed to a round black tunnel with the silver shape of my little VW bug at the end of it. I fumbled in the pocket of my shorts for the keys, the breath tearing in my throat and the howls of coyotes in my ears. Far off in the distance there was an angry squeal of a javalina as something startled it.
I grasped the keys with numb fingers, pressing the locking mechanism and hearing the familiar double beep that let me know I was almost safe. I was scrabbling at the door handle when there was a familiar barking at my side. I turned to see Shadow’s black wolf-like shape bounding up to me, pink tongue lolling out in a breathless pant.
“Shadow!” I threw my arms around the dog’s neck and buried my face in his black ruff for a long moment, trembling and letting the good, clean scent of his warm fur fill my senses. I drew back for a moment when I felt something wet on his muzzle—blood. It was a sticky, nearly black smear on my fingers in the dark parking lot. He must have caught a rabbit.
There was a choking gurgle from the path where I had been attacked and I remembered that I had to get the hell away from there.
“C’mon, boy.” I opened the VW’s door with a shaking hand and gestured him inside.
Shadow looked at the open door but instead of getting in he moved to get in front of me. The fur all over his body seemed to lift, making him look twice as large and a low, rumbling growl built in his throat.
“Shadow, come on! We don’t have time for this.” I motioned at the open door and he moved reluctantly to scramble across the seats. I got in behind him and slammed the door, jabbing the key into its slot and shoving the little car into gear. It wasn’t until I had cleared the park’s parking lot and was half way home that I felt safe enough to drive anything approaching the speed limit.
I turned to see Shadow staring at me, the full moon reflected in his big brown eyes. He looked out the window for a moment and gave a menacing growl.
“So, now you get all protective. Where were you a minute ago when that man was all over me?” I muttered.
He looked back at me and voiced a soft whine that sounded almost apologetic.
“Yeah, well,” I said. “If that other guy hadn’t been there … but for all I know he had the same thing in mind as the first guy.”
Shadow gav
e two short, sharp barks and pawed at my leg.
“Yeah, that’s what you say,” I told him, frowning. I felt like there was a thin veneer of ice over everything I said and saw. A layer of distance separating me from everything that had just happened to me, or I guess I should say almost happened. Everything on the road looked very sharp and clear for some reason. The outline of Shadow’s pointed ears against the night sky outside the window looked like a paper cut-out in the dark.
“That’s the last time I let you off the leash, buddy,” I told him.
Chapter 7
We were at the house in what seemed like a ridiculously short amount of time. I got out of the car and let us in, still feeling that thin layer of numbing ice over my emotions. I dumped water and food into Shadow’s double sided bowl feeling like a robot and then climbed the stairs. It had been a very, very long day. I decided I was going to take a shower and go straight to bed.
At the back of my mind a little voice was screaming that I had been attacked and I ought to do something about it. But do what? Tell the police? It seemed like too much trouble when I felt so numb. So tired and cold.
I let the hot spray wash over me until I warmed up and then shut off the water, feeling if anything, even more tired. I rubbed my hair dry roughly with a towel before sliding into bed, too exhausted to even bother with digging up a nightshirt to wear. It was over and I needed to sleep. I would worry about a police report in the morning.
I lay there, curled in on myself, feeling numb, but sleep wouldn’t visit me. Over and over I kept reliving the feel of the man’s hand on my thigh, the stale beer on his breath, the silver glint of moonlight skating over the blade of his knife. What if he had somehow followed me? What if he was outside the house? What if…
My bedroom door opened with a low, shuttering creak and I felt a scream catch in my throat. Then there was the sound of toenails clicking on the hard-wood floor and rough fur insinuated itself under my palm. The scream rushed out of me in a low, breathy gasp as I felt the familiar cool nose tickle my finger tips.
“Shadow,” I whispered. “Good boy.”
I fondled the fuzzy ears for a long time and finally the familiar warmth of my bed and the soft sound of his breathing lulled me to sleep.
“Please…” I say. “Please…” It sounds so stupid. Why can’t I say anything else? Scream, shout, make a commotion. They always tell you to yell fire instead of help because people pay more attention if they might be in danger too.
But the only word that comes out of my mouth is that one syllable supplication. A prayer of one word that makes no sense.
“Please…”
The man is on top of me.
“This is how it’s gonna be,” he says, faceless in the dark, nameless and menacing. “You and me are gonna have a little fun.”
I want to shriek for help or shout for him to get off of me but nothing comes out. Nothing at all besides…
“Please.”
I might be begging him to stop or begging him to do it. How could anyone watching my pitiful performance tell the difference?
He looms over me, stale beer, dark eyes, harsh hands, bright knife, happy to have such an easy victim, such a willing supplicant…
“Please…Please…
“Please! Please, no!” My pillow was bunched in my fists, my face wet with sweat or tears or both as the dream twisted me inside out.
“Please,” I gasped again, struggling to get away from the faceless dark man.
“Hey, shhh. Don’t—it’s okay.”
Suddenly the pillow was taken out of my hands and my face was pressing against a hard, warm wall of muscle instead. There was a comforting smell like dry sand and warm fur with an echo of musk in my nose.
“Who … what…?” I mumbled groggily.
“It’s just me,” he said in a rough whisper. “Same as last night. Don’t be afraid, you were having a bad dream. My Grandma would say you need a dream catcher in here.”
Very few words penetrated the fog of sleepy terror that still filled my brain like obstructing smoke. Mostly I heard ‘Same as last night’ and ‘dream’ which seemed to explain everything. My dream of the evil, faceless man in the park had inexplicably and blessedly mutated into the recurring vision of my dream lover. Dream or not, he felt solid, and wrapped in his arms I knew I was safe.
I buried my face in his muscular chest, taking deep breaths of his comforting, musky scent and willing my heart to slow down. He held me tight and I felt warm breath in my hair as large hands soothed over my back, petting away the stress, calming me as you might calm a frightened animal or a trembling child.
“Okay, it’s okay…” His voice was deep and he murmured words of comfort and protection into my hair.
Gradually I felt my body relax against his and I realized there were no clothes separating us. Warm smooth skin slid under my palms as I rubbed tentatively across the broad planes of his chest. A low, appreciative rumble vibrated through my fingertips and I felt the hard, heavy weight of his shaft pressing against my thigh.
Suddenly he rolled me over so that he was on top of me. His eyes in the moonlight coming through my window were shadowed. I wanted to protest but then his lips were on mine and he was feeding me heat and need and want, petting my tongue with his and making me moan helplessly into his mouth.
God, how long had it been since I’d had a man, a real man in my bed? Sex with Douglas has never been anything to shout about and it had been nearly non-existent for the last six months of our marriage. A year—a year at least since I’d had anyone touch me—love me. I felt like a starving woman suddenly invited to a feast.
The deliciously solid feel of his hard body against my own and the warm scent of him surrounding me was intoxicating. His black hair feathered against my skin in a warm sheath, a coarse, silky curtain that filtered the light of the setting moon.
He came up for air at last, releasing my mouth, although I could have gone on kissing him forever.
“Why…?” I whispered, wondering why he’d stopped.
“Don’t have time to do this right,” he said, his voice low and hoarse. “Have to do the best we can.” He dipped his face to my neck and his lips brushed me softly, a hot, open-mouthed kiss that made my breath catch in my throat.
“That’s good,” he whispered and I felt large, capable hands on my breasts, cupping them, rolling the nipples with just enough force to make me moan.
“What?” I whispered and then he was moving down my body, sucking my sensitive nipples into his mouth, nipping and licking the slopes of my breasts until I moaned and bucked upwards to meet him halfway—offering myself. Each twist of his fingers, each gliding stroke of his tongue over my flesh seemed to send a spark of electrical current to the hot, damp vee between my thighs.
Then he was moving lower, parting my legs with long, talented fingers. I felt his hot breath against my inner thighs and a slow lingering kiss against the inside of one knee. And then his mouth moved downward. To be tasted this way, to be kissed here, in the most intimate and vulnerable part of my body, was something I had often wished for—something Douglas had never offered to do. And something which scared me to death. I would be too exposed, too open…
“No!” I gasped, trying to close my legs. This might be a dream but it was getting entirely too real for me.
A low growl was my answer, a sound that was possessive, almost animalistic.
“Told you we don’t have much time.” His voice was rough with dark, insistent hunger but his hands on my knees were gentle, coaxing. “Spread your legs for me, Angelina. Let me taste you, baby.”
Just a dream, I reminded myself. It’s just a dream so why not? Why not let him?
I couldn’t answer that question but my body answered it for me. I felt the muscles in my thighs trembling, weakening and then he was spreading them apart, spreading me open. I could feel the hot, ticklish sensation of his tongue bathing the inside of my knee and tracing a trail down my inner thigh to the soft junction
where it joined my body.
“Don’t … I…”
“Relax, baby. Not gonna hurt you. Just gonna taste your sweet pussy,” he whispered. “God, I’ve wanted to do this from the first minute I saw you.”
His head dipped again and I felt large warm hands lifting my pelvis towards his seeking mouth. I reached down blindly, feeling the smooth skin of his broad shoulders slide under my palms and then his mouth was on me.
He kissed me gently at first, firm but teasing as though he was kissing my mouth. Then callused fingertips parted the folds of my sex and I felt the indescribable glide of wet heat over my aching slit as he bathed the sensitive bud of my clitoris with expert care. I moaned and bucked upwards—I couldn’t help it. It felt like a jagged shard of lightening had electrified all my senses at once.
“Like that, baby?” His voice was a low rumble in the dark and I found I couldn’t answer in words. Instead I arched my back, spreading my thighs wider and offering my body to him shamelessly. I felt wanton, wild, hot. I would never act this way with a real lover but it was a dream, only a dream.
He bent his head again and I felt the wet slide of his tongue parting my folds and then circling the heated bundle of nerves at my center. My seeking hands found his thick hair and I worked my fingers into it and pressed up to meet his mouth. It seemed like I couldn’t hold still beneath him. My hips bucked up to meet him of their own accord and my fingers laced through his licorice-black hair urged him on. I could feel my heart throbbing in every part of my body at once and a slow, deep heat was building between my thighs where his tongue was buried, piercing to the center of me as he tasted the deepest part of my need.
The slow, deliberated thrust of his tongue in my sex was good but I needed more. I wanted to beg him to take me, to give me what his tongue was promising but I couldn’t make any words come out of my mouth. It was too busy making soft, broken noises, helpless sounds of pleasure that I could neither stop nor control. I couldn’t tell him what I needed but he seemed to understand anyway.