Blue Moon (Chapter 10)
My heart thundered and my hands shook. He'd scared me, not only by appearing out of nowhere, but by almost getting himself knocked out in my yard.
"Right now, or in general?"
"I come from Minnesota originally. I just came out of those woods right now."
"You know those trees all bunched together?" He jerked a thumb over his shoulder.
A comedian, exactly what I didn't need.
"You shouldn't be out alone at night."
"I think I can handle myself." He lifted the can of soda to his mouth and drained the rest in one long gulp.
I found myself overly fascinated with the muscles flexing and releasing in his throat. The way he'd snatched that soda can out of thin air had been amazing.
"How'd you do that?" I asked.
He crushed the can in one hand. My heart went pitter-pat.
I flicked a finger at the can. "Your reflexes seem downright superhuman."
"There's a lot about me that's superhuman." He .smirked. "Wanna see?"
The man flirted as easily as he breathed. But why was he flirting with me?
"No thanks. What are you doing here?"
"I got your message." He reached into the pocket of his jeans and held up something between his thumb and forefinger. The moon had come out from behind the clouds, and I could see his face but not much else. Still. from the space between his fingers, I deduced he'd brought me the totem.
"Come on up," I offered. "I've got one cola left. We can share."
"Share? You read my mind."
"Relax, Slick, I'm talking soda here."
I went back into the apartment smiling, but I forced myself to stop. It wouldn't do either one of us any good if I encouraged him. He'd end up disappointed; I'd end up hurt.
He was handsome, sexy, intelligent. I was average, socially inept, and… average. I'd made it through school; he was nearly a doctor. The professor and the cop – it sounded like a bad romance novel.
Those differences aside, I wasn't even going to address the white/red issue, which didn't bother me but might bother him – or at least his family. There were very few pure Ojibwe left. If he was even one of them, I doubted his parents would appreciate him diluting the gene pool.
I snorted and leaned down to snag the last soda from the refrigerator. We hadn't even progressed to first names and I had us diluting the gene pool. I'd better put on some brakes before I went headlong off the cliff.
Shutting the door, I turned, and an involuntary yelp escaped me. Cadotte stood in my living room.
"How – " I glanced at the window, which was still open. The breeze ruffled the curtains. "I mean, what – ?"
He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. Muscles flexed beneath smooth cinnamon skin. "You told me to come up."
"Ever think of using the door?"
"Why, when the window is so much closer?"
"How did you get up here?"
"Rock face. It wasn't hard." He shoved away from the wall. "For anyone who's done any climbing.
You keep this locked, right?" He ran a fingertip along the glass.
He'd climbed up the side of the building like Spider-man? I found that hard to believe, yet here he was.
Distracted, I handed him the can and stepped onto the porch. I leaned out over the railing, measured the distance to the ground – too much – then moved over to the wall and peered closely. The apartment building was made of stone. There were footholds of a sort, but you couldn't talk me into climbing the thing.
Of course my rock-climbing experience was limited to county fairs and a single day at the academy during training. There aren't a heck of a lot of mountains to climb in Wisconsin. Hell, there aren't any.
What we like to call hills are a joke if you've ever been to Colorado, Montana, or even Tennessee.
Cadotte followed me outside. Suddenly the night was no longer cool and the balcony no longer big enough. He stood between me and the door. The only way out was down.
Though tall, he was lithe. Not muscle-bound, but muscular. Could I take him if I had to? I wasn't sure.
The not knowing made my breath come harder and faster.
I inched closer to the door, into his personal space. If he was polite, he'd move away. He stayed right where he was. So did I.
"I told you to call me." I offered my hand, palm up. "I'd have picked up the totem. You didn't need to come out of your way."
He stared at my hand but made no move to put the totem into it. Where had the thing gone, anyway? My gaze lowered to his pockets. The totem was too small to make much of a bulge. I didn't see it. But there were other, more interesting bulges in the vicinity. I stiffened and yanked my eyes up to his.
He was smiling. Damn. He'd noticed. He seemed to notice everything.
He moved closer. I stepped back and cursed myself for the weakness. But I couldn't help it. His skin gave off an intense heat. I could smell him despite the pines and the flowers and the fresh plastic aroma of my chairs. That wild scent I'd noticed last night – not unappealing, but rather arousing.
I hit the railing. I couldn't go any farther. Thankfully Cadotte stopped, still too close, but at least he wasn't touching me. I wasn't sure what I'd do if he put those long-fingered, clever hands on me.
"If I'd let you come to get the totem, then I'd never have seen your place. I doubt you'd have invited me here."
I frowned as a thought I should have had earlier, if I hadn't been thinking about sex, shot through my brain. "How did you know where I live?"
"It's not hard to find out in a town like this."
"Besides." He reached out and brushed one of those enticing fingers back and forth over the short ends of my hair. "I wanted to see you again."
The shudder that rippled through me at his touch halted immediately at his words.
He dropped his arm. I figured he'd step back, finally let me pass, then tell me he had unpaid parking tickets or a bogus warrant hanging over his head – they were always bogus – or some other legal problem that made him want to see me. You know, the usual.
I was preparing my standard "sorry, can't help you" speech when his descending hand cupped my hip. I had no time to say anything, because he yanked my body flush with his – he was a helluva lot stronger than he looked – and kissed me.
Since my mouth had been half-open, ready to speak, his tongue slid right in. He didn't waste time on niceties but went straight for the good stuff. I liked that in a man.
The tip of his tongue did a hard slide up the center of mine, then teased at the end. He pulled me tighter against him, center to center, then rocked his hips forward. I nearly came right then. Deprivation will do that to a girl.
Moaning, I tried to pull back, but not very hard. Especially when he did some fancy move with his other hand and my starched sheriff shirt popped open past my bra.
Suddenly his mouth left mine and he lowered his head to my breasts. That clever tongue dipped into their center, in and out, as he echoed the motion with his hips.
My body was on fire. My mind a complete mess. It wouldn't take much to convince me to do it right here on the Formica table. I didn't think we'd make it inside.
My arms rose of their own accord, fingers tangling in his hair, so soft, so sleek. I ran my palm over his head, petting him, then urging him on. His mouth closed over my nipple, through the bra, and lightly he bit the tip. I arched, pressing my entire body into his, and that one small movement shoved me over the edge.
From far, far away drifted a low, mournful howl. In the middle of the first orgasm I'd had in several years, the sound confused me. Coyote? Wolf? Human?
Cadotte tensed, lifted his head, and stared past my shoulder into the night. The chill wind brushed my bare skin, iced the moisture left by his mouth. His body was still pressed to mine, but I no longer felt warm.
He pulled his gaze from the trees with obvious effort. His face gentled and he buttoned my blouse up to my throat. I certainly wasn't capable of doing it.
He lowered his forehead to mine and whispered, "That."
Typical me, grace under fire.
"You asked why I wanted to see you." He kissed my eyebrow. Heat flooded through me, chasing away the chill.
Since when had my eyebrow become an erogenous zone? Apparently today.
"You wanted to see me for that?" I repeated, not sure what that was. A kiss, a dry hump, a thwarted fuck on the balcony?
"Yes. You have a problem with it?"
At the moment I couldn't find a single problem with the world, but I would. Such was my nature. I shook my head, unable to articulate much of anything.
"Good. I've got to go."
He released me and headed for the front door. I must still have been dazed, or I'd have made a smart comment about jumping from the balcony. As it was, I followed him like a puppy, and when he pressed the totem into my hand, then folded my fingers around it, I merely held on tight and watched him leave.
I never thought to ask him what he'd discovered about the markings.