Make Me Remember Emma Petersen
Hannah Bryant has always been different. Since she was a child, she’s had vivid dreams of death and loss. Years later, Hannah is a successful doctor who’s gotten past the terrors that used to plague her. In a flash, everything she has worked so hard for is in danger when the dreams return with a vengeance. But the dreams haunting Hannah’s sleep now are nothing like the ones from her childhood. No longer does she dream of death and destruction—now her dreams are of a man who elicits a reaction from Hannah’s body that’s strangely familiar and startlingly brand new at the same time.
An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication
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Make Me Remember ISBN 9781419926778 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Make Me Remember Copyright © 2010 Emma Petersen Edited by Meghan Conrad Cover art by Syneca Electronic book publication May 2010 The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
MAKE ME REMEMBER
Emma Petersen
Trademarks Acknowledgement The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Betadine: The Purdue Frederick Company
Emma Petersen
Chapter One “What brings you to see us today—” I looked down at the medical chart in my hand before I continued, “Mrs. Peltier?” I smiled, not only to reassure her but also because I was relieved she was my last patient after a very long and very stressful day. “My granddaughter.” Despite my attempts to set her at ease, the elderly woman gave me a suspicious look. “And I’ve had trouble with…” She hesitated. I patted the older woman’s hand and nodded. She was probably embarrassed to admit she had a problem with constipation. I saw no reason to embarrass her further when the information was written in the chart. “It’s something that afflicts us all once in a while. Besides that, are you experiencing any other difficulties?” I looked up from the prescription pad in my hand into the stunned face of the patient’s granddaughter. “Is there a problem?” The younger woman blushed and shook her head. “No, it’s just you’re the first doctor I’ve met who bothered to learn Dakota. I grew up here and can’t speak it half as well as you.” I looked at her, puzzled. “I beg your pardon?” “You speak Dakota very well. My grandmother hates coming to the tribal clinic but once she heard the new doctor spoke Dakota…” At my confused expression, she explained further. “My grandmother doesn’t speak English.” I backed away from the two women slowly, my skin hot and clammy at the same time. I shook my head and caught myself as I stumbled in my haste to get out of the room. Turning, I fled, my professionalism enough to keep me from crying out but not enough to keep me in the room. 6
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This can’t be happening. Please, God. Don’t let this be happening again. I barely made it to the ladies’ room before I was violently ill. Spasms slammed through me and tears streamed down my face. I couldn’t help the pathetic moan that escaped my lips. Long after my stomach was empty, I still retched as I fought to calm my racing mind. There had to be some sort of misunderstanding. I didn’t speak any language other than English. Or at least that’s what I had long ago convinced myself. I picked myself up off the cold tile floor and walked out of the bathroom stall. I avoided looking in the mirror, knowing what I’d find, but at the last moment, I gave in and met the wide, terrified eyes of my pasty reflection. “You don’t have to give in to your imagination,” I whispered. As a child, the words had been my mantra. I’d repeat them to myself over and over again when I’d wake up from a nightmare, scared and alone. I said them out loud now as I pinched my cheeks to bring some color back into them. This was just one incident in a span of twenty years. It didn’t matter. I washed my hands, rinsed my mouth and splashed water on my face before I grabbed some paper towels and left the bathroom only to come face-to-face with my nurse, Robin. “Dr. Bryant, are you okay?” I forced a smile. “Yes, Robin, thank you. I’m going to head home a little early. I think I may have picked up a touch of the stomach flu.” Robin hesitated, looking as if she wanted to say something else, but nodded instead. “Is the patient in room one ready to go?” I flushed and hoped the patient wouldn’t tell Robin about my odd behavior. “Yes, her prescription is in the chart. I didn’t have time to give it to her before I got sick.”
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“It’s okay, Dr. Bryant. I’ll give it to her. You go home and rest.” Robin patted my arm before walking toward the exam room. I grabbed my purse and keys out of the office I shared with two other doctors at the small clinic on the Standing Ridge Reservation. Walking slowly toward my car, I purposely didn’t think about what happened earlier, or at least I tried not to. Twenty years, completely obliterated in the matter of seconds, and the worst part was I had a feeling it was only the beginning.
***** The drive from the clinic to the house I rented in the tiny reservation town of Two Kettles passed in a blur. I breathed a sigh of relief as my garage door whirred open. I was home, or at least what had been my home for the past couple months. I had accepted this temporary assignment in South Dakota, despite my parents’ protests. It was the first time I had stood up and made a choice without their influence. I never really thought about why, when I finally decided to stand up for something, it had been this, of all things. I didn’t know anyone here. The only thing I knew was the clinic where I now practiced was understaffed and in desperate need of doctors. And it didn’t hurt that in return for a half-year commitment they would pay off the remainder of my student loans. The freedom of standing up for myself had been heady. Until that day, every act in my life had been made with my parents’ approval in mind. When I stuck to my guns and didn’t let them sway me it had been as if one decision had triggered another. It had given me the strength to ask Marcus to wait until I got back to California to answer to his marriage proposal. Also the courage to tell him I needed a break from our relationship before I totally committed myself to him and our life together.
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He had agreed to both requests easily—maybe a little too easily. Maybe it had been wrong of me to ask, but I couldn’t accept his proposal or choose the man I married simply because I knew my parents approved of him. Marcus. My stomach tightened and I concentrated on keeping my breathing even as my heart sped up. Usually, when a woman’s heart pounded at the thought of her lover, it was a good thing. Unfortunately, in my case, it wasn’t. I loved Marcus, just not the way a woman should love a man who could possibly be her future husband. Then again, what did I know about husbands and love? My parents’ relationship wasn’t based upon love—I knew that for a fact. When I was sixteen, my mother had given me the “talk” and she was very candid about her relationship with my father. Explaining that while she did care for him, messy emotions like lust and passion were not part of the equation. To my mother, feelings were fleeting and didn’t make for a lasting, healthy relationship. If you were weak enough to let your body control you, then you deserved to reap the consequences. Which could range from an unplanned pregnancy to a “social disease”, as my mother called sexually transmitted diseases, or worse. Women who not only acknowledged but let their baser needs control them don’t get anywhere in life, she’d said. And that, in my mother’s mind, was worse than death. She took pride in having wealth, a house in the best of neighborhoods and a successful, well-respected and prominent husband. My mother’s mercenary reasoning hadn’t killed my secret belief in true love, but it had dampened it. I respected Marcus as a person and I knew if we got married after our break, we’d have a good life. He knew all my secrets and hadn’t treated me any differently when he found them out, but kindness and understanding weren’t reasons to spend the rest of your life with a person. Were they? I grabbed my purse, got out of the car and refused to let my mind wander back to the things I’d rather not think about. All that was over now. 9
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Opening the door that led to the entryway of the house, I tossed my keys on the counter that divided a small living room from a tinier kitchen. I ignored the red blinking light on the answering machine that signaled I had a message. Instead, I removed my lab coat and flung it over the arm of the sofa as I made my way to the hallway that led to my bedroom and bathroom. Stripping as I walked down the hall, I remembered I had been supposed to call Marcus earlier that morning. Picking up the phone on the nightstand by my bed, I dialed his number. As the phone rang, I thought about the man who had asked me to marry him. He was a good man, an even better doctor, and I was lucky to have him, or so my mother had told me on more than one occasion. Marcus Edwards was my father’s medical practice and business partner. He was also a brilliant oncologist and the youngest chief of medical staff in the county. My father had mentored Marcus in college during my teens. He had rarely brought his students to our home, but from the beginning it had been different with Marcus. Though he often said he owed his success to the elder Dr. Bryant, I knew the truth. Marcus was ambitious, determined and had no other choice except to excel. It was either work hard and prosper or die in the rough Los Angeles neighborhood where he had been raised. When he met my father, Marcus had been in his first year of college, working two jobs and still maintaining a near-perfect GPA. My father had come home raving nonstop about the brilliant young man he had met earlier that day. The next night Marcus had come for dinner and had been a standing guest from that night forward. Even my elitist mother adored him, despite the fact he had been born in the wrong county. I stifled a sigh when I got his answering machine. I didn’t know why I was surprised he wasn’t home. Marcus was more of a workaholic than my father.
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As I left a message, I ignored the unease in my stomach and refused to contemplate how it would be to be married to a man who loved his job more than he loved me. My mother had survived it and so would I. Is that all you want from a marriage, to survive it? Walking into the adjoining bathroom, I undressed and ran bathwater. As the tub filled, I studied my reflection in the full-length mirror. Marcus and I hadn’t had sex in almost a year, not including the four months I’d been in South Dakota. Week after week, we each had made excuses, until neither of us bothered to come up with reasons not to have sex. And though neither of us would come out and say it, I knew the few encounters we’d shared had been less than earth shaking for both of us. Some would say Marcus’ lack of interest could be taken as a sign that he’d found someone else. Sadly, though I knew Marcus was faithful, I just couldn’t bring myself to care either way. Naked, I stood in front of the mirror and studied my body. I was pudgy. It was the only word I could think of that fittingly described my body. My breasts were more than a handful and, as a teenager, a source of embarrassment to my petite mother. She thought my breast size bordered on vulgar and had said so on more than one occasion. Must have come from your father’s side, she’d say before she’d put her hands on her slender size-two waist and shook her head sadly. My waist size was the only thing I had inherited from her. It was small, though not as tiny as hers, and unfortunately flared out into hips too wide to be considered fashionable. I ran a hand over my nipple, shivering as it puckered from the light caress. Fascinated, I ran my hand over the other and watched as it too drew tight. I continued down my stomach to my thighs and hesitated a moment. I knew what I’d find if I sank my fingers between my bare lips. There would be the wetness that was always mysteriously missing during my encounters with Marcus. 11
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I was more than capable of becoming aroused and achieving an orgasm, but with Marcus my body was as responsive as a remote control without batteries. It wasn’t as if Marcus wasn’t physically attractive. The cliché “tall, dark and handsome” couldn’t describe him better and yet… I stifled a sigh, turned from the mirror and climbed down into the bathtub. I groaned as the hot water enveloped me, soothing my sore muscles and loosening my limbs. Relaxing against the tub’s slanted back, I pretended this entire day was nothing more than a bad dream.
***** He was angry with me. I trembled as his long stride ate the distance between us. “What the hell were you thinking, coming into town by yourself? We know nothing about this place. Do you know what could have happened to you?” His voice was harsh and matched the expression on his familiar face. I didn’t answer. Had no answer to give him and no idea what I had been thinking. My silence enraged him further. His massive hands reached out, enveloped my arms and jerked to me to him. My eyes closed as his hold tightened just enough to be painful. “Amayupta. Yo!” Answer. Me. He punctuated each syllable with a light shake. I whimpered, but it wasn’t a sound of pain. His hands froze where they gripped my arms. I opened my eyes to find him staring at me, the emotion on his face still raw but far from angry. He cursed before he crushed his mouth down hard on mine. I moaned again as his tongue filled my mouth, and I could taste chicory and sugar from the coffee he had no doubt drank before he found me. He gathered me close, pinning my chest against his. My nipples beaded, stabbing into the immovable force that was his upper body as I fought for breath. Before I could blink, my back hit the bed and he was on me. Shoving my legs apart, he didn’t bother with preliminaries as he bunched my dress around my 12
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waist. He gathered the sides of the bodice and ripped it down the middle, leaving me bare to my navel. I gasped as buttons flew. His hand delved between my thighs, and he groaned when his fingers found me hot and wet. He gathered the cheeks of my ass in his powerful hands and thrust deep, seating himself inside me with one full stroke. Dark eyes blazed down into mine, so dark a brown they bordered on black, making it difficult to tell where his pupils ended and irises began. I recognized the look. I was in for it, but in the best of ways. He bent and licked my nipple before nipping it hard enough to make me yelp. My eyes drifted shut. His cock rested thick and hard inside me. His girth stretched and glided against nerve endings I never knew I had. “You’re close, aren’t you? I’ve barely touched you and already you’re about to come.” I loved it when he spoke to me this way but was too embarrassed to admit it. When he got this intense and the need rode us both so hard, we couldn’t think beyond the feel and taste of each other’s skin. My eyes opened and blood rushed into my cheeks. Panting, I nodded, lack of breath making it hard to speak. “So close that all you need is one or two more…” The muscles of his thighs flexed and contracted as he stroked into me. Pleasure hummed through my body and I tilted my pelvis up, rocking my hips in an attempt to bring him deeper, closer. “Yes.” His gaze locked on mine, his lips curled into a knowing smile as my body trembled beneath his. He thrust harder, the head of his cock bumping against my cervix in a delicious mix of pleasure and pain. The ecstasy built. All I could do was wait for it to hit me. My muscles clenched on him tight, my body demanding satisfaction louder than I ever could.
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He groaned, a bead of sweat popping up on his forehead as his movements stilled. He clenched his jaw as if stopping was the last thing he wanted to do. “Maybe I don’t want you to come yet,” he taunted, but the slight trembling in his forearms said something different. “Please.” Pride abolished, I spread my legs wider. I grabbed the solid muscles of his ass, encouraging him to move. “I want to…need to…” “What do you want, Sunshine?” He chuckled, the dark sound stoking the heat already blazing though me, rippling along my buzzing nerve endings to pool in the place where he rested inside me. “I want you to make me come,” I said, using the word he had taught me. “Please make me come.” “Are you begging, Sunshine? God, I love it when you beg.” I sighed into his mouth, my nails digging into his back, and finally he gave me what I wanted. I grabbed the metal bed frame, holding on as he pounded into me with deep, hard thrusts that drove me up the bed. The only sound in the room was the old bed, creaking and thumping against the wall in rhythmic time to his thrusts and my soft cries. “You can’t leave me.” He didn’t speak the words in English but I understood them nonetheless. “You are part of me, as I am of you.” His head dipped down and his lips brushed against mine. “Your breath, my breath. Your life, my life. Not even death will separate us.” Tears welled in my eyes. My back bowed as pleasure tore through me, my pussy spasming hard as I came. I threw back my head and moaned his name as my body quaked beneath his. “Yes, that’s it, Sunshine. That’s it, baby.” He hammered into me, pushing me higher, harder. One orgasm blended into another as he wrung ecstasy from my shivering body. He was about to come, I could
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tell. I held him tight, savoring the way his body trembled against mine as his rhythm faltered and his jaw clenched. I met his gaze and tried to keep it. Seeing him at this moment, at his most vulnerable, was almost too much. I wanted to turn away but couldn’t. He took the decision out of my hands as he gasped, then buried his face in the curve of my neck to muffle his groan as he came inside me.
***** I bolted upright, my harsh breathing filled the dark room. My hair was plastered to my head and my wet nightshirt clung to me. I gulped air, trying to fill my oxygendeprived lungs. My pussy throbbed as if I’d recently climaxed. Wincing, I held the cloth of my pajama top away from my nipples, the crests sensitive and tight as if someone had spent quite a bit of time caressing and teasing them. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and made my way in the dark to the bathroom, I didn’t bother to turn on the light once I reached the sink. As I splashed water on my face, the images from the dream replayed in my mind. My breath shuddered out as I remembered the feel of the man’s hands, rough on my skin. My cunt spasmed as I once again felt him hot, thick and hard inside me. I couldn’t remember his face, but I had known him, his body as familiar to me as my own. I knew the touch, taste and smell of him but I also knew without a doubt, my dream lover had not been Marcus. It was childish and unfair to compare Marcus to a figment of my imagination, but he had never made me come so hard. Shivering, I reached out and flipped on the light switch. Your breath, my breath. Your life, my life. Not even death will separate us. The words were so clear in my mind, I half expected not to be alone in the room. I blinked as my eyes adjusted to the harsh light and didn’t know if the sensation in my stomach was disappointment or relief that I was alone.
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I unbuttoned my nightshirt and gathered the courage to look in the mirror. My cheeks were flushed, my lips swollen and my eyes glittered with an emotion I refused to name. Letting the nightshirt drop, I examined myself in the mirror. My body seemed different to me than it had earlier. My breasts and hips no longer seemed too big, but just right, the perfect size to cradle and cushion a man’s weight and strength. I gathered my unruly black curls in my hand, wrapped them in a bun at the top of my head and secured it with a hair clip. Turning on the tub faucet, I splashed in my favorite fragrant milk bath. Even after I washed my face and removed my pajamas, my skin was still hot. I stepped down into the tub and reached for the retractable showerhead before I settled into the lukewarm water. I flipped the switch on the massager and, as it bubbled and vibrated, I ran it over my thighs and belly. I sank deeper into the tub and let my head loll against the edge. Closing my eyes, I listened to the buzzing of the device as it soothed my tense muscles. I lifted one leg out of the water and swung it over the side, spreading my legs in the process. I ran the apparatus down one leg and then up the other until it neared the juncture of my thighs. I hesitated a moment before resting it directly above my clit. I exhaled sharply as water jetted over the sensitive nub. The consistent, pulsating rush was almost painful as it beat against me and I allowed myself to imagine it was the man from my dream. Touching, teasing, tormenting me until I begged again for what I needed. Him. Hard and deep, pounding inside me until I… Arching up, I moaned as an orgasm slammed into me, causing my hand to shake so violently I was barely able to hold on to the massager. Keeping the pounding water steady, I came again. Blood rushed to my nipples, tightening them as I cried out, “Mahpiya.”
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“Dr. Bryant, we need you out here. The police chief got stabbed when he tried to bust up a fight over at the Bordeaux place. I put him in exam room two.” I looked up from the chart on my desk and resisted the urge to sigh. The roughand-tumble Bordeaux family practically kept this clinic in business. If I wasn’t stitching up one of their victims, I was delivering one of their many offspring. Shaking my head, I walked out of the office toward exam room two and prayed it was nothing major. After only a couple of hours sleep last night, I was running on caffeine and didn’t really want to deal with anything beyond a few stitches. I grabbed the chart and I read the name on it aloud as I walked into the room. “Gabe Leader Charge?” On the exam room table sat a giant of a man. Mussed coal black hair tumbled to his waist and was held back from his face by a leather thong tied at the nape of his neck. Déjà vu swept over me—there was something familiar about him. I dismissed it, thinking maybe it was his hair—not too many men in the area chose to wear it that long. Only his profile was visible from the doorway. A sharp cheekbone slashed downward toward full lips. His top lip was slightly bigger than the bottom and an insane urge to run my tongue along the seam sent heat spiraling through me. Distracting myself from my inappropriate thoughts, I silently cataloged his injuries. From the looks of it, the Bordeaux clan met their match with this one. He had abrasions on his knuckles, as well as swelling and bruising near his left eye. His uniform shirt was torn and his left arm was wrapped in a bloody towel. I was just about to call for Robin when he looked up. Breath rattled out of my chest and I grabbed at the doorjamb to steady myself. The room spun as the black eyes from my dream bore into me. Images from last night slammed into my consciousness and I heard his voice whisper in my mind, taunting me. You’re close, aren’t you? I’ve barely touched you and already you’re about to come. 17
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“Doc, you okay?” He turned toward me, waving his good hand in front of my face. I couldn’t distinguish which voice was real and which was a replay from last night. Both washed over me and a shudder ripped through my frame. Even my white-knuckle grip on doorframe couldn’t stop my knees from buckling. Are you begging, Sunshine? God, I love it when you beg! “Robin, get your butt in here. Something’s wrong with the doc.” As I fell, I could only watch as he unfolded his large body from the exam table and reached for me. You can’t leave me, Sunshine. He moved quickly and gracefully for such a big man. “Shit! Stay with me. Stay with me, Sunshine.” He caught me before I could hit the floor. “I got you, Sunshine. I got you.” I attempted to keep my eyes open, but I couldn’t. My limbs felt leaden and the darkness was a relief when it swallowed me. “Mahpiya,” I breathed before I passed out. As I resurfaced, I could hear voices around me but couldn’t make out the words. I groaned and buried my face deeper into the surface beneath me. “I think she’s coming to, Robin.” Realization struck me as his hands pulled me closer to the wall of his chest. I lay across my patient’s lap. My cheeks flushed with mortification. I attempted to scramble off his lap, only to nearly collapse again. “Whoa, easy there, Sunshine.” Ignoring the spinning room, I scrambled to my feet. Before I could stop myself, I snapped, “Don’t call me that!” He held his hands up in mock surrender. “Sorry, Doc. Why don’t you just take it easy?” His voice played havoc with my senses and his touch had burned my skin. Swaying, confused and absurdly angry, I yelled, “Shut up! Just stop talking!” 18
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Robin gasped and I spun to face her. Her face full of fear, she backed away as I took a step toward her. I must have looked like a wild woman to put such a look on her face. Tears pricked my eyes. Oh, God. Could my life get any worse than this? “I’m so sorry, Robin.” A fat tear rolled down my cheek and I stuffed a hand against my mouth to stop the sobs. Get a hold of yourself, Hannah. “In English, Doc. Robin doesn’t speak Dakota,” the chief said gently. “I am speaking English!” “Robin, why don’t you give the doc and me a minute?” Robin practically ran from the room and I wanted to join her. “Where’d you learn Dakota, Doc? That’s a pretty impressive vocabulary you got there.” He spoke slowly, as if trying to soothe an anxious mare. “Anyone hearing you would think you grew up speaking the language, but I’ve never seen you around the rez.” Still cradling his arm, he shut the door and stood in front of it as if I’d make a run for it. “That’s how I learned.” He said the words as if he were reading the minutes to a meeting, with no emotion, just stating facts. “I hate to ask this, Doc, but did you accidentally take anything you weren’t supposed to?” The question was asked the same way, as if he was just making conversation, not judging, but gathering information. My eyes blurred and I shook my head. “No.” He raked his hand through his hair, accidentally pulling hair from the tie and I shivered. I knew how those silky strands felt against my skin. “Doc, you said something right before you fainted, a name… It was almost as if you called out a name. Mahpiya. Did you?” I clenched my eyes shut, praying this was all just another nightmare, that I hadn’t had an another “episode”—not only in front of one of my staff, but also in front of the chief of police. If this got out, if he told anyone he thought I was on drugs or worse,
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crazy, my life and my career would be over. “I…I’m sorry—I haven’t been feeling well.” He looked at me again with eyes that didn’t miss anything. “Do we know each other?” “No,” I said quickly, shaking my head. I stepped around him and changed the subject by hiding behind my medical training. “You’re still bleeding, that towel is practically soaked and your wound needs stitches. Please, sit back on the exam table so I can get it taken care of for you.” Gabe looked as if he were going to push the issue, but relented and did as I instructed. I gathered the necessary items needed to cleanse and stitch his wound and walked back to where he sat. Heat radiated off his body, calling to me, offering me comfort, and I barely had the strength to ignore it. He didn’t make a sound as I gently swabbed his tattered flesh with betadine before I gathered it and held it together so I could put in the first stitch. My hand shook so badly he reached out to hold it steady. “Sunshine, are you sure you’re gonna be able to do this? I can call Robin.” My eyesight blurred. A tear rolled down my cheek and landed on the wound. “Please don’t call me that,” I begged. “Aw hell, I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.” He pulled me to him, but I jerked away and ran from the room, passed a startled Robin and locked myself in the ladies’ room. I don’t know how long I had been in the bathroom when Robin came to the door. “Dr. Bryant, are you okay?” Her voice was as hesitant as her soft knock. I sniffled and called out, “Yes, Robin. I’m sorry, I’ll be right out.” I’d lost track how many times I had apologized to her today. “It’s okay. I just wanted to let you know I stitched up the chief and he left. Don’t worry. He explained everything. I’m gonna go lock up. Do you want me to wait for you before I leave?”
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Reaching for the door, I let my hand drop before I opened it. Somehow I doubted the chief had really “explained everything”. I struggled to keep my voice casual as I asked, “Robin, what did the chief tell you?” She cleared her throat. “He said that you guys once had a relationship that ended badly and the shock of seeing him again upset you. He said he only made things worse by calling you Sunshine, his pet name for you, even after you asked him not to.” My head dropped against the door. Somehow the words rang true. Yet they couldn’t be. I had never been to South Dakota before and I was positive Gabe had been born and raised here. I had no explanation and I was too tired to try to think of one. “He seemed upset he made you cry.” “Thanks, Robin. Goodnight.” “Night, Dr. Bryant.” I walked back to the sink and splashed water on my face. Even though Gabe had explained away the situation, I didn’t think I could face Robin yet. The story he gave was plausible, but still didn’t excuse my unprofessional conduct. Grabbing a paper towel, I wiped my face and hands before I opened the bathroom door and walked to my office. The phrase “Thank God it’s Friday” had never been more apt in my mind than at that moment. Hopefully, by Monday this day would be nothing more than another bad memory. I flipped off the light switch, grabbed my purse, car keys and locked the office door behind me. The drive home passed in a blur and I was relieved to see my tiny yellow house. As I walked in from the garage, my stomach rumbled, making me remember that in the commotion of the day I had forgotten to eat. I tossed my stuff on the sofa, shrugged off my lab coat, walked in the kitchen and pressed the play key on my answering machine before I opened the fridge. I scanned the meager contents before I closed it and opened the freezer.
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I put a frozen dinner in the microwave and listened to the messages as it cooked. “You have four new messages. First new message…” I barely heard the messages playing. My mind was full of other things—mainly Gabe, but I’d never admit that. The microwave dinged, signaling my food was done. I grabbed my food and a diet cola from the fridge and walked into the living room. Light filtered in from an open window, so I didn’t bother turning on the lamp. “Hannah, it’s Marcus. Sorry I missed your call last night. I had an emergency at the hospital. Call me when you get in.” I considered calling Marcus back, but tossed aside the idea. There wasn’t much I really had to say to him. Doubts about resuming our relationship crept in and I quickly pushed them away. Gabe’s face teased my memory. I couldn’t reason away the recognition that had lit through my veins the first time I looked into his eyes, no matter how I wanted to. It had all been a coincidence. He’s the chief of police. No doubt you’ve seen him before and that’s why you dreamed about him. It was that and nothing more. He had seemed to recognize me too. Uh, hello. If you’ve seen him around, he’s probably has seen you too. There’s a reasonable explanation for everything if you’d just think. And there lay the problem. I couldn’t think in his presence. He towered over me, I could feel the strength in him, yet not once had I been afraid. He had smiled and it had been as if the sun had burst through the clouds after days of rain. I looked down at the microwave fare, forgotten and congealing in my lap. I wasn’t hungry anymore. Standing, I walked back into the kitchen and tossed it into the trash can. After a quick shower, I lay down and closed my eyes. I knew sleep would be a long time coming but, then again, it always was.
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Chapter Two “You must be hungry. Are you gonna come out of those bushes? Or do you plan to spend the night there?” I crouched down lower, hoping the leaves surrounding me would be sufficient enough to hide me. I couldn’t begin to guess how he knew I was there. My stomach growled, but surely not loud enough to be heard. I ignored the scent of the food cooking over the campfire and prayed he hadn’t heard my stomach’s protest. Tears pooled in my eyes as my mouth watered, but I didn’t leave my hiding place. I couldn’t take the risk. Even though the man was alone, that didn’t mean he didn’t have friends nearby. And, as big as he was, if he wanted to hurt me, he wouldn’t need help. I shuddered as I remembered men’s hands grabbing, bruising and hurting me. He wouldn’t be any different and this time I probably wouldn’t escape. The man went back to what he was doing, pretending to ignore me, but I could feel his awareness of me in his every movement. I’d never seen an Indian before. He was not as I thought one would look and nothing like the natives in the penny dreadfuls I used to sneak from my brother Thomas’ room. Black hair hung free to his waist, along with two small braids on each side of his temples. He wore breeches and a shirt instead of the animal hides like the characters in the novels. He didn’t look bloodthirsty or savage, but I knew better than most that looks could be deceiving. I licked my lip and winced as the moisture stung the open flesh of the cut there. A vivid reminder I couldn’t chance trusting anyone. Sniffling, I carefully dropped to my bottom, wincing as the movement caused pain to echo in my ribs. I pulled my knees up against my chest and wrapped my arms around them.
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Life had changed so drastically within the past couple of days. My papa was dead and I might as well be, too. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been in these woods, but it couldn’t have been more than a week. It was hard to believe that not so long ago, I lived in a huge house with a father and brother who loved me. Looking at me now, one would have never known my only concerns in life had been which new ribbon would go best with which dress. People had doted on me, even wanted to be seen with me despite the fact I was half Negro. I guess the fact my papa had been the richest man in three states mattered more than my mixed blood, because no one dared insult me for fear of his wrath. So caught up in my thoughts, I didn’t realized the man approached until I saw the bush limbs part. Scrabbling to my feet, I attempted to run only to be bought up short when my dress got caught on a branch. “Whoa! Easy there.” It was then I realized it wasn’t the brush that held me captive but the Indian. I struggled in earnest. Crying out, I swung my arms, hoping to hit any part of his body. Sharp branches tore at my exposed skin and a strong arm wrapped around my waist, lifting me off the ground. Tears streamed down my face and my cries turned to whimpers. “Please,” I begged, as he walked us back toward the fire. “Please, don’t hurt me.” “Shh… No one’s going to hurt you.” I didn’t believe him. He put me down and as soon as my feet hit the ground, I ran. I didn’t get far as I tripped over a large tree root. Bile rose in my throat and I fought the urge to gag as the pain in my ribs combined with terror. Hands scraping the ground, I ignored the tearing of the soft flesh of my palms. Only one thing mattered and that was escape. I heard him curse and looked up to see him coming toward me. Sobbing, I got to my feet, only to cry out as my ankle buckled and I crumpled to the ground.
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This was it. He was going to kill me. Or worse. Thoughts of the worse made my stomach rebel and I retched. But, since I hadn’t eaten in days, nothing came up. I cowered as he approached, curled up into a ball and protected my head with my arms. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he repeated, as he laid a hand on my back. I flinched, anticipating a rougher touch. “I just want to take a look at your ankle and make sure you didn’t break it.” He picked me up again and I didn’t fight as he carried me close to the fire and set me down. As my bottom met the ground, I clenched my eyes shut and waited for his hands to start ripping at my dress. When he didn’t, I opened my eyes to watch him lay a blanket over my legs and slowly lifted the hem of my dress. My face was on fire. This was the first time a man had touched me so intimately. His hands were warm and gentle as he probed my ankle. My stomach fluttered and an odd, unrecognized sensation gathered there. One I didn’t think had anything to do with hunger. Embarrassed by my reaction to his proximity, I clenched my eyes shut and prayed this was all a dream—that I would wake up, safe and snug in my own room with Papa still alive and in his room. When he let go of my foot and covered it, too, with the blanket, I peeked out of my good eye to find him dishing up a plate of beans and some kind of meat before setting it beside me. He handed me a spoon and a cup of what could have been coffee, but I was too hungry to bother with either. Snatching the plate, I stuffed handfuls into my mouth. He cleared his throat and I froze, my hand raised in the air. Blushing, I dropped the food back onto the plate and wiped my hands on my dress. “Careful, if you eat too fast it’s just going to come right back up.” I swallowed around the lump in my throat, wiped my mouth on my sleeve and set the plate down.
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“Eat. I just didn’t want you to make yourself sick.” I looked across the fire at him and it finally sank in. “You speak English.” He chuckled. “So do you.” I blushed again, realizing how foolish I sounded. “I just meant I didn’t know Indians could speak English.” “This Indian can. I can also speak French, Spanish, Lakota and Dakota.” “Dakota?” I questioned. I had, of course, heard of French and Spanish but never of the other languages he mentioned. He nodded. “Yes, it’s the language of my people.” He took a sip of his coffee. “You’re a Negress.” I froze, feeling the same way a deer must feel when trapped in the sights of a barrel of a gun. “I’m not a slave,” I whispered quickly, my eyes filling with tears. “Are you going to turn me in?” He looked at me quizzically. “Turn you in?” I nodded and looked down at my plate, my appetite fading despite the fact I couldn’t remember when I had eaten last. “Some people wouldn’t let the fact I was born free stop them from taking me and turning me in to collect a bounty.” “Is that what happened to you? Why you’re out in the middle of nowhere by yourself?” I nodded, not mentioning the fact it had been my own stepmother who was responsible in the first place for the situation I was in. Heartsick, I picked up the blanket, wrapped myself in it and waited for him to speak. “A man cannot own another man. White, red or brown.” He shook his head. “The wašicun would try to own the moon and stars if they could.” He took a sip of his coffee. “Why have you been following me for the past couple of days?”
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“I’d thought you’d be able to lead me to a town, where maybe I’d be able to send word to my brother, Thomas.” It was his turn to nod. “You’re more than welcome to travel with me ’til we get to the next town. What’s your name?” “Sarah Jane,” I mumbled. “But I don’t have any way to pay you, not until I contact my brother.” I could feel his eyes on me and, even though the fire was the only light there was, I knew he could still see my blackened eye and busted lip. Ducking my head, I covered my battered face with my hair. “My name is Mahpiya and I didn’t ask for a payment. If my little sister were in the same situation, I’d want someone to help her.” “Thank you,” I whispered. “You better get some sleep. We’ll leave at first light.” I lay down, covering my face with the blanket as silent sobs shook my body. I missed Papa, Thomas and, despite everything, I even missed my stepmother. I wondered what she had told Thomas about my disappearance. As soon as I got to a town, I would send word to Thomas and he would send for me. Once he knew the truth, he would rescue me. I refused to believe he had anything to do with his mother’s scheme. Thomas loved me and would understand why Papa had done what he did. As a woman, I couldn’t own property, but Papa had found a way around that and in doing so he had left the vast majority of his wealth in a trust to take care of me. As I drifted off, I prayed I hadn’t made the same mistake in trusting this man as I had others.
***** “Excuse me, Dr. Bryant?”
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I had been working on the clinic’s monthly report and was bored to tears. Grateful for the interruption, I looked up to find my nurse standing in the doorway, wringing her hands. “Yes, Robin?” “I know the clinic doesn’t close for another hour, but is it okay if I leave now? My little girl’s school called and my husband hasn’t come to pick her up yet.” I watched as Robin blinked rapidly as if she were trying not to cry. Her husband had a substance abuse problem and if he forgot to pick up their daughter again, it more than likely meant he was on another bender. “Go ahead. I’m sure I’ll be able to handle anything that comes up.” “I’m so sorry, Dr. Bryant—” “Robin, it’s okay. You better go. You don’t want to keep your daughter, or the school, waiting.” “Thank you,” she whispered. “Night, Dr. Bryant.” The clinic was abnormally slow today and I hoped it wasn’t the calm before the storm. Walking to the front desk, I sat down and waited for the phone to ring. It had been eight days since my last episode and, though I continued to dream, the dreams hadn’t been remotely similar to the first dream I’d had the day before I met Gabe. The door opened and, as if my thoughts conjured him, in walked Gabe. I bit my lip and tried in vain to ignore my body’s response to his presence. It made no sense that a man whom I had only come in contact with once before could arouse me in a way Marcus could not. I plastered a smile on my face and greeted him as he approached the desk. “Good evening, Chief. Can I help you with something?” He stared at me a moment before he spoke. “Robin called and said it was time for the stitches to come out.” Shit.
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“Okay.” I got up from the desk. “Why don’t you come with me and we’ll get you taken care of.” I walked away without turning but I knew he followed—his presence was tangible. “Go ahead and have a seat. I’ll be right back.” When I came back into the room, Gabe had done as I instructed and sat perched on the exam table. His injured arm was still in a sling, but it didn’t look as though he was favoring it. “I’ve been thinking about the other day.” My hands slipped as I gathered the rest of the needed instruments to clean the wound and remove the stitches. He didn’t speak for a moment and I almost breathed a sigh of relief, thinking he dropped the subject. I wasn’t that lucky. “I couldn’t help but thinking I knew you from somewhere and I think I finally placed where.” Trying to keep my tone casual, I laughed. “Don’t you hate that? When something is in the back of your mind, but you can’t bring it forth?” He didn’t laugh, but instead got up from the table and walked toward me. “As a little boy, I had nightmares. Horrible dreams I would wake from screaming. At first, my mom thought it was because of the fights I witnessed between her and my father. But even after my parents were gone and I went to go live with my unci I still had them.” Tears gathered in my eyes. I knew this story because I had lived one similar. His eyes didn’t leave mine as he continued talking. “At first my relatives had said I was crazy…but my grandmother knew better. She took me to a man who knew a lot about dreams and told him about the nightmares. He explained to her that our souls last forever and are capable of being recycled, and that the dreams I had were more than likely memories.”
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A tear slipped down my cheek. I wanted so badly to believe him. It would explain everything. I flinched as he touched my shoulder. “Omašte, ceye šni yo.” The words were in Dakota but I understood them. Don’t cry, Sunshine. It wasn’t the first time I had heard the words. They tickled my subconscious with a promise of something I couldn’t remember and I sobbed with the sudden knowledge that the last I heard those words, I at least had the comfort of his embrace. “Please,” I choked out. “Why do you keep calling me Sunshine?” Gabe stood, wrapped his good arm around me and pulled me into a hug as if he knew it was what I needed. “I guess I keep calling you Sunshine for the same reason you called me Mahpiya.” The last time I had been held was as a child by my nanny and, even though I knew I should, I didn’t resist. I wrapped my arms around his waist and laid my head against his chest. The thumping of his heartbeat soothed me and my tears slowly stopped. “I don’t understand this, Gabe,” I whispered. “I don’t understand any of this.” Rubbing my back, he nodded, his chin brushing the top of my head. “Sometimes there are things beyond our comprehension, but does it make them any less real?” I pulled away from the warmth of his body. “I don’t know how any of this can be real.” “I can’t speak of real, I can only tell you what I know…” He lifted my chin so our eyes met and held it when I tried to turn away from his words, from the truth in his eyes. “I know you. The feel of you, it’s burned into me, here.” He laid his hand on his chest before dipping his head to rub his cheek against mine. “The taste of you.” His lips brushed mine, once, twice, and heat of the tiny caresses splintered through me. His mouth slanted over mine, his big body crowding mine against the back wall of the exam room. His touch singed me as his large calloused hands grabbed and held me as he lifted me, pinning me against the wall. My legs were wrapped around his waist and his erection fit snugly into the apex of my thighs as if it was where it belonged. 30
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His cock ground against my clit and I was a breath away from coming. The delicious ache in my cunt signaling my impending climax cleared the fog clouding my mind. I truly had lost my mind. I was in an exam room, wrapped around an injured patient, seconds away from letting him fuck me against a wall as if he had paid me for the privilege. I pushed at his shoulders, gasping for breath as the reality of where we were reared its hateful head. I slid down his body. He let me go but stood with his hands clenched as if to stop himself from reaching for me again. Braced against the wall, I trembled like a dope fiend denied her next fix. I shook my head. “No. This is all a misunderstanding.” Talk about an understatement. I talked faster, attempting to explain everything away. “I’ve recently had the stomach flu. This is all just a leftover result of my fever,” I said. His smile was rueful. “You don’t believe that, Sunshine, and neither do I. Just as I don’t believe us calling each other by names we both seem to know is a coincidence.” Scared, I hid behind my anger and lashed out. “So that means I should let you paw at me?” His jaw tightened. “I wasn’t the only one doing the pawing. You were right there with me, clawing at me and making those sweet little moaning noises in the back of your throat. Be a coward and ignore what’s happening between us if you want to, but I won’t let you pretend the kiss or what we came a hairsbreadth from doing wasn’t consensual.” My face flushed and I swallowed the apology that sprang to my lips. He was right. It had been consensual, but I wasn’t going to admit it out loud. “Can you please sit back down on the exam table so I can remove your stitches? I still have to work to finish after the clinic closes and I don’t want to be here all night.”
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I worked in silence, and though I was in a hurry, I was gentle and concentrated on the task, because it gave me an excuse not to have to look in his eyes. “All set.” Backing away from him, I put the tools in the autoclave dish and washed my hands. I didn’t hear him move, but I could feel his presence behind me before he spoke. “This isn’t the end of it, Sunshine.”
***** We had been traveling for about a week when we finally came upon a settlement. Though we were technically in a free state, Mahpiya still wanted to be careful and go into town first to check everything out before coming back for me. “Don’t come out until I call you,” he had instructed. Even though I was anxious to attempt to contact my brother, I reluctantly agreed to stay hidden in the copse of trees on the outskirts of the little town to wait for him. He had been gone for most of the day when I heard footsteps approaching. Jumping to my feet, I ran toward him only to be bought up short by the sight of an unfamiliar man coming my way. We stopped and stared at each other. Even though I knew he had seen me, I wanted to hide again in the hope he would go away. “Well, what do we got here?” Swallowing hard, I backed up slowly, wishing I had listened to Mahpiya. My dress was still a mess and I hadn’t had a proper bath since this nightmare had begun. However, I knew the stench in the air wasn’t coming from me but from the filthy man standing in front of me. “Now, wait a minute, gal. Just where do you think yer going?” The man had already taken a step toward me when I turned and fled.
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I heard him running behind me, but I didn’t take the time to look to see if he gained on me. As I ran, I searched frantically for a place to hide. I was coming upon a hollowed-out log I could possibly squeeze into when I was tackled from behind. Breath burst from my lungs as I hit the ground and my attacker’s weight landed on me. Putting my hands beneath me, I scrambled up and away from him only to have him pull me back by my hair. My scream rent the air, long and loud, even though I knew no one was near enough to hear me. Pain exploded in my head and I swayed dizzily as his fist connected with my skull. “There’ll be none of that!” he snarled before hitting me again. I trembled on the edge of consciousness, fighting to stay awake. Reaching behind me, I scratched at his hands and he howled as my nails tore his filthy skin. He slapped me twice in retaliation before he pressed my face flat into the dirt until I had to struggle to breathe. “So you like it rough, do ya? Well, I’m gonna give it to you real rough.” He jammed his erection against my bottom, leaving me no doubts as to what it was. Sobbing, I spit dirt and grass out of my mouth and continued to struggle as he wrenched my dress up over my hips and buttocks. I heard a dull thump and my assailant’s full weight fell on me again. My nails broke and tore as I scratched at the dirt, trying to get out from underneath him. I brushed away the liquid that gushed into my eyes and shrieked as my hand came away covered in blood. Even after my attacker’s weight was lifted completely off me, I continued to scream. It was as if I couldn’t stop. Blood blurred my vision and I fought as someone picked me up. “Shh, little one, hush. I got you. Come on, we have to get out of here before the body is found.”
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Mahpiya’s voice cut through the hysteria and I trembled violently when I heard the word “body”. He had killed a man. And it only made me cry harder because I was glad he had. I had wanted to kill my assailant too. I closed my eyes as Mahpiya lifted me onto his horse. He vaulted up, settled behind me and took the reins. “Yah!” Mahpiya encouraged it into a gallop as he wrapped an arm around my waist and we took off. I don’t know how long we traveled but, by the time we stopped, it was pitch black. The cave in front of us was blacker. Mahpiya got down and was gone for a few minutes before he came back. We hadn’t spoken the entire time we were speeding away and we didn’t speak now as he led me deep into the cavern. He wrapped his hands around my waist and lifted me off. My legs quivered as my feet touched the ground. Stepping around me, he found a large boulder and rolled it onto the reins. I watched as he worked. After securing the horse, he rubbed it down with grass growing near the entrance before encouraging it to drink from the pot he had filled with water. The entire time, I hadn’t moved—merely watched him and tried not to think of the foul man’s blood that had dried on my face and hair. Or about his bruising hands, which I could still feel on my skin. A tear leaked down my cheek and I ignored it. This is what Papa had wanted to protect me from. Men who thought they could rut on me as if I were a bitch in heat because of my skin color. My vision blurred and I yelped as a hand touched me. “Shh, it’s me, Sarah Jane. It’s me, Mahpiya.” I knew who it was, but what difference did it make? He had showed me kindness but he was still a man and it was only a matter of time before he turned on me and hurt me too. I’d save him the trouble.
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I stepped back from him and unbuttoned my blouse. I’d long gotten rid of my corset and chemise so, when the shirt came apart, the only thing beneath the material was my skin. Tears ran unchecked down my cheeks as I heard Mahpiya suck in a startled breath. “Stop.” He stilled my hands, his larger ones gentle on mine. I was sick of being tired and scared and, at that moment, the only thing I wanted to do was die. My body shook with the force of my sobs as he took my hand and led me deeper into the cave until we came upon a small lake. Steam curled up from the surface and he dropped my hand to reach down to unlace my shoes before reaching for the buttons of my bloomers. I didn’t protest as the material fell to pool at my feet and I stood before him naked. He pressed something into my hand and nudged me toward the water. I looked up to find him walking back toward the way we came. I watched his retreating back until he disappeared around the corner of the cavern wall. I stood there for a minute or two before I stepped down gingerly into the water and sank down until it was at chin level. I lost track of how long I stood there, listening to the fall of water as it streamed into the lake. What kind of life would I have? The only person who truly loved and protected me was gone. I had taken for granted that I’d be safe in a world my father had gone against. He had made the decision not only to raise me but also give me his name and when most women my skin color were nothing better than chattel. Without him, the world was such a darker place. I had never questioned my existence, nor had I questioned my father’s relationship with my mother. To me he was Papa, the man who doted on me and loved me. In my sheltered little world, I hadn’t realized that while he loved me regardless, some hated me for something I had absolutely no control over, my skin color. Sobbing, I cried for the loss of my father and my innocence. I couldn’t go back home, whether Thomas had had anything to do with his mother’s scheme or not. I 35
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couldn’t face all the people I had once mistakenly thought of as friends. All of whom owned slaves, but who had treated me with kid gloves because of my father’s name and wealth. “Ceye šni yo. Sarah Jane, you have to stop crying.” Mahpiya climbed into the water when I ignored him and cried harder. He had removed his shirt and wore only his breeches. Taking the soap from my hand, he bathed me before lathering my hair. He washed it twice before he settled against the side of the pool and took me into his arms. The tears had stopped and the ache in my chest slowly slid downward and settled in my stomach. The only other times I had been comforted or held this way were by my governess and my father, but the succor they offered wasn’t remotely similar to the feelings Mahpiya’s shirtless chest provoked as it pressed against my bare skin. Burying my face in his neck, I hoped to hide the blush steadily crawling up my cheeks. Reality started to set in now that my crying jag was over. I was standing naked, waist deep with a half-clothed man. I should be scandalized, mortified and, after what had happened earlier today, terrified. But as he ran his hands slowly up and down my arms and back, it wasn’t terror I felt. It was foreign—something I couldn’t name or place. It lit in my stomach and blossomed outward, spreading upward to tighten my nipples and lower, causing the place between my thighs to tingle. Swallowing hard, I looked up into his eyes and my breath caught. Flames from the fire he had built danced in them. At first glance, I couldn’t tell his pupils from his irises and they seemed to swallow me whole and drown me in whatever emotion I saw mirrored in them. I shivered as his head dipped and his mouth brushed mine. His lips were warm and the touch of them made my heart beat faster. I was scared. Instinctively, I knew I could trust him but the fear of the unknown was still there, but the apprehension wasn’t enough to stop me as I stood on my tiptoes and pressed my mouth harder against his. 36
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He hesitated a moment before his hands tightened on my arms and I prayed he wouldn’t push me away—I needed something and I knew he could give it to me. “Please.” It was more of a moan than a word and it was his turn to shudder. He crushed me to him, my breasts flattened against his chest, and I marveled that his heart beat just as hard and as fast as mine. “Hiya, Omašte. No, we can’t.” He pulled back but I followed, my hands trailing up and down the corded muscle of his back. I didn’t listen when he told me to stop again. My body moved closer to him, seeking the heat and strength of his. I ached and the slight pressure of my hips against his just caused the ache to grow and swell until it nearly became unbearable. “Please,” I begged, for what I didn’t understand but I hoped he would show me. He cursed softly before he crushed his mouth down on mine and gathered me in his arms to bring me closer. I moaned as his tongue filled my mouth and the world spun. Oh, God, what was he doing to me? We broke apart, gasping for air. His forehead rested against mine and our breaths mingled. I couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t afraid. Was this love? But that was crazy, asinine. Could I possibly love this man after only knowing him for a week? I didn’t know, but I wanted to find out. “Mahpiya.” My hands clutched his shoulders, the only thing keeping me standing as my legs buckled. “Yes, Omašte.” His breath feathered against my lips, fanning the growing flame inside me. “I feel strange.” He nodded and his hands tightened on me. “I know, Omašte.” “It… It…” I hesitated. I didn’t know how to finish. It didn’t exactly hurt, but in a peculiar way, it did. A tiny hurt that also felt good. “I ache.” And I did. “Here.” I took his hand and placed it between my thighs.
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He groaned and tried to snatch back his hand, but I held it fast. The ache was the question and he had the answer. “Please.” He hesitated a moment before his hand pressed harder against me and I gave a strangled gasp. I clutched at him. “Please, don’t leave me like this,” I begged. He pulled back abruptly and I cried out. “Shh… I won’t. I promise.” I stood before him, shivering in the warm waters of the spring. He had never lied to me before but as he took a step back from me I had my doubts. My chest was heaving as if it was impossible to get air into my lungs and I felt as if I was having an out-ofbody experience. Maybe I had died earlier when I had been attacked. Maybe Mahpiya hadn’t arrived in time and this time there was no lucky escape. Heart thumping, I leaned toward him as he wrapped his hands around my waist and lifted me. Sitting me on the ledge, he spread my legs and moved between them until he was at eye level with my breasts. He brushed his face against one and then the other, the warmth of his breath making them pebble tight. I whimpered as he nuzzled his nose against my nipple before licking it. The hot wetness of his touch and the shot of pleasure it sent shooting down my spine caused me to jump. When he did it again, I was expecting it, craving it but was nowhere near prepared for the bliss of him sucking the crest into his mouth. Crying out, I nearly collapsed against him as he drew hard, tugging on some unseen conduit that channeled ecstasy to the place between my thighs. He switched breasts, murmuring words as he nuzzled, suckled and bit gently. I moved my hips restlessly, trying to get closer to him, yet not aware of how it would help if I did.
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I protested as he released my nipple with a wet, popping sound and kissed my stomach. I wanted him back where he was but he ignored me and moved back so he had room to touch me between my thighs. He delved deeper, finding the place where the need was centered. I moaned as his hand moved against me. “Easy, easy. I got you, Omašte, I got you.” He continued to rub against me and the ache grew and grew until I shook with the force of it. I grabbed his hand, whether to draw it closer or push it away I’ll never know because as soon as I touched him the world shattered. A stunning and baffling combination of pleasure and pain burst over me in radiating waves. Mews escaped from my throat and my nails dug into his skin so hard I was convinced I drew blood. “Mahpiya.” I called out his name even as the pleasure waned. Closing my eyes, I tried to process what just had happened. There were so many feelings brewing inside me it took me several methodic breaths until I was convinced I wouldn’t burst into tears. When I felt his hands on my waist against, I went into his arms willingly. I needed to touch him and be touched by him. I knew nothing about what happened between a woman and a man, all I knew was that from the beginning even as I was terrified of him there was something about him that called out to me and promised me things I had never been exposed to and couldn’t possible understand. Though I couldn’t put a name to it, I understood the feeling in my chest. As he held me, rubbing my back and whispering to me in Dakota and English, the sensation swelled. His words were meant to comfort and, as he promised he’d never let anyone hurt me again, I believed him. It wasn’t just because he had already killed to protect me or because he had just shown me ecstasy unlike I’d had ever known. It was so much more. The truth of it shivered though my veins and seemed to merge with the depths of me. He would protect me, without thought, without hesitation and not because of who 39
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my father was and despite the circumstance of my birth. None of those things mattered to him. Only I mattered to him. My fingers were wrinkled by the time he led me from the water. I walked behind him meekly, as if I were a child, my mind racing. I let him wrap me in a blanket and guide me back to the camp he had set up. Pressing me down onto a sleeping bag near the fire, he left and exchanged his wet breeches for dry ones. He returned to me and dried my hair. Brushing the tangles out, he plaited it into two braids. “Are you hungry?” I nodded, fearing if I spoke it would break the spell of intimacy surrounding us. We sat in companionable silence as we ate. I wanted to ask him what had happened in the pool, to ask him if he had experienced the same pleasure I had, and his heart felt as full as mine but I was too embarrassed. Not because I had let a man take liberties with my person, but because I wanted him to do it again. Because even though I didn’t fully understand the concept of belonging to someone I wanted to belong to him. After he took the plates and rinsed them, he went to the other side of the campfire to lie down. I did the same but, every time I closed my eyes, I saw the hateful, leering face of my attacker. When Mahpiya touched me, he had not only banished the cold but also the fear and pain that lingered. I didn’t ask, just took the blanket I was wrapped in and went to lie beside him. I knew he wasn’t asleep, but his only acknowledgment of me was his hand as he slipped it into mine. Lying in front of him, it only took a moment before he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me back against him. His hips cradled my bottom and again I felt the same hardness I had felt earlier in the water. I arched back into it and he groaned.
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“Mahpiya?” Had I hurt him? He didn’t sound as if he were in pain. It was the same sound he had made when I had pressed his hand against between my thighs. The fire he quenched earlier hadn’t been completely extinguished and his nearness seemed to stir it, bank it. I didn’t know how to tell him I wanted him to put his mouth on my breasts and touch me again. “Shh…Omašte. Ištinma yo.” “I don’t understand.” The language he spoke wasn’t the only thing I didn’t comprehend. I also didn’t understand what was occurring between us. “I know you don’t, little one. I said to go to sleep.” “I’m not sleepy. I…” The last of my boldness had been used up earlier and I couldn’t bring myself to say the words. To say that I wanted him to touch me the way he had earlier, to make me fly, shatter and cry out the way he had in the pool. I didn’t have to ask. He dipped his fingers between my thighs, parting my slick flesh and pressing against that special place that made me cry out. Moaning in the back of my throat, I rocked against his hand eagerly. He removed his hand and his mouth covered mine, swallowing my protest. He continued to kiss me as he rolled me onto my back. I grabbed his shoulders and pulled him down closer as our tongues tangled. Pulling his mouth from mine, he kissed and nibbled his way down my body until he stopped between my thighs. The light from the fire was dim, but still I wanted to cover myself as he rubbed his cheek against my mound. Touching was one thing but in the brightness of the firelight I knew he could see all of me. I didn’t protest as he spread my legs. He was so still, I didn’t know what to think. I trembled as I felt his breath against me. Hot, wet velvet stroked me and it took me a moment to realize it was his tongue caressing me. At the first pass, I gave a strangled gasp and tried to push his face away, but he persisted. Pass after pass, he devoured me until I pulled him closer and sobbed his name. My thighs trembled and I clamped them down on his head as my breathing became harsh and my lungs burned. The feeling
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from the pool was back, only deeper, harder, wilder. I fisted my hands in his hair, arching up, and pushed his face harder against me. The tension wound tighter and I begged him to stop. I couldn’t take it. Surely if the pleasure became any more acute, I would die of it. When the first wave hit me, it stole my breath, and my scream broke off into a strangled gasp as I splintered, quaking wildly as devastating pleasure enveloped me whole. My body trembled still as he moved from between my legs. Before I could collect my thoughts, his mouth covered mine, his tongue thrusting deep into my mouth. His hand swept down my body, stopping between my legs. My flesh was still sensitive as his hand touched me. I could feel the hardness of him brush against me as he settled between my legs. The muscles of my inner thighs ached from being splayed wide open and bearing his weight. As he braced his elbows along each side of my head, my hands clenched on his shoulders as I held on to him and he pressed deeper into my untried body. My breath caught as the pressure burned. He looked at me and I shook my head. It hurt, but… “Please, don’t stop.” Deeper, he pushed before stopping. Slowly withdrawing, he thrust forward. “Are you okay?” I nodded, trying not to writhe away from the stinging fullness. He sucked my nipple into his mouth before pinching it gently between his teeth. The small pain took my mind a little off the bigger discomfort of him lodged deep inside my body. My eyes slid closed and I concentrated on the warm silk of his mouth and tongue against my breast. Reaching up, I pressed his head closer in silent encouragement as he drew harder. He let go of my nipple and moved up my body to press his lips against my cheek, eyelids and then lips. Opening my eyes, I met his and watched as the flames from our
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campfire danced in their reflection. I gasped as he pulled out of me, his thick sex sliding slowly out of mine and leaving fire in its wake. Each thrust took him deeper, and each thrust came a little faster, harder until he rocked into me at a steady pace. Our harsh breathing and my moans were the only sounds to be heard as he continued to move inside me. My thigh muscles ached, but the pressure building inside me was a sufficient distraction. It was unlike anything I had experienced yet I craved it all the same. It was right there, just beyond my reach and I had no idea how to get to it. Experimentally, I tilted my hips and rocked them up against him. I could see the tension in the line of his jaw as he continued to thrust into me. I cried out sharply as I felt his hand part the folds of my wet flesh and press against the place that sent me flying. I nearly screamed as the muscles of my stomach tensed before I shattered, my sex convulsing as he groaned and thrust against me hard, once, twice, before he shuddered against me.
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Chapter Three I lay staring at the ceiling, a phantom twinge haunting the inner muscles of my thighs as the last traces of the dream replayed itself in my mind. Groaning, I rolled over onto my side and clenched my legs together in hopes of easing the arousal pulsing between them. God, I ached with it. I didn’t know what time it was, but from the darkness I could see out of my window, I knew it was still night. Sitting up, I pulled my knees to my chest, wrapped my arms around them and took a deep, shuddering breath. Never had I thought about how or why the dreams felt so incredibly real. The first push of him inside me seemed more real than my true-life experience. My heart pounded as I recalled the sound of his breath rasping in my ear as he worked over me, thrusting hard and deep. I squeezed my eyes shut. My nipples were tight and I knew it wouldn’t take much to make me come. Still, I resisted. Instead, I lay there, body achingly aroused, and waited for dawn to come. Hoping in the rays of first light I’d find a little release. Not the kind of I wanted, but at this point, any kind would do. The sound of the phone ringing shattered the overwhelming silence and almost made me fall out of bed in my haste to answer it. “Hello,” I croaked. “You’re awake.” Gabe. I shivered as his voice, husky with sleep, came to me over the line. “Yes,” I whispered, clenching the handset so tight my hand stung from the pressure.
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“If I come over, will you open the door?” My body cried out yes and it took the last of my strength to say, “No.” He chuckled and the need that had eased earlier returned, doubling as the wicked sound teased my senses. “You’re soaking wet, aren’t you, Sunshine? I can still feel you. So hot, wet and tight.” He took a deep breath and I attempted to keep my own breathing even. “You dreamt it too, didn’t you? Can you still feel me, Sunshine? Deep and hard inside you. I can still hear the way your breath hitched when I finally got all the way inside you.” I closed my eyes, his every word vibrating through my being as he spoke it. Cradling the phone against my shoulder, I ran my hand over my belly before dipping it between my thighs. He was right. I was so very wet. “Are you touching yourself, Sunshine?” I started guiltily. It was almost as if he could see me. I hesitated before my hand touched my clit. “Answer me.” Impossibly, his voice got deeper and, without thought, I answered his question. “Yes.” “You’re close aren’t you, baby?” “Yes,” I whispered, pressing harder against my clit as I continued to massage it in a steady rhythm. “Yes.” “Come on, Sunshine. Come for me,” he coaxed and I shattered, nearly dropping the phone as wave after wave of ecstasy slammed into me. “Gabe—” “Shh…Omašte. Ištinma yo,” he whispered, before hanging up.
*****
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The day had passed with interminable slowness and, every time the clinic door opened or someone knocked on my office door, blood raced to my cheeks. It hadn’t helped that Robin repeatedly asked how I felt after saying I looked feverish. Getting home that night was more than a relief. I threw my stuff on the kitchen counter and opened the fridge, hoping in vain for something edible in it. I came up empty-handed, so I settled on a TV dinner and a soda. Grabbing the dinner out of the microwave, I hit the play button on my answering machine and listened to the messages as I leaned against the counter and took a bite. I hadn’t paid attention to the messages, so I thought there wasn’t any more until I heard Gabe’s voice. “Sunshine, we need to talk. I’ll come by later.” The machine emitted a long beep, signaling all the messages had been played. Oh, God. Gabe was coming here. I had a hard time enough facing him, but after last night… He hadn’t left a name and it wasn’t as if he needed to. His voice was imprinted in my brain; I’d recognize it anywhere. He hadn’t bothered to ask if he could come by, and from the tone of his voice, he had no intention of requesting my permission. The couple of bites I had taken sat rock like in my stomach. How did he know where I lived? I hadn’t thought to ask him last night how he had gotten my phone number. I looked at the front door as if he’d come right through it without knocking—hell, without opening it. I didn’t want to see him. I didn’t care if he was right and we did need to talk. The last thing I needed was to be alone with him. I hopped up and pulled the curtains closed, just in case he drove up and could see me from the street. I grabbed my forgotten food, dumped it the trash and poured the soda in the sink. Going back into the living room, I sat down on the sofa. I pulled my knees to my chest, wrapped my arms around them and rested my cheek against them. Every sound made me jump as I waited for Gabe’s arrival. I was wound so tight I didn’t remember falling asleep.
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***** With every passing day, life seemed to be draining from me. It wasn’t as if I wanted to die, it was more as if my soul had given up and my body, taking a cue from it, had too. It had been more than seven weeks since the men had left and more than three weeks since they should have returned. Life in the village went on much the same. I helped my mother-in-law with the chores during the day and cried myself to sleep at night. I slept at his parents’, unable to bear the solitude of our lodge. I would wrap myself in one of his shirts and hold myself tight, yearning for him. Though we had been married and here with the people for almost a year, I still had a hard time when he went away. His mother would catch me looking toward the horizon and sadly shake her head, her thoughts no doubt similar to my own. I pined for my man and she pined for her son. I was at the back of the village near Mahpiya’s aunt’s wakaya when I heard a commotion toward the front. Heart in my throat, I ran as soon as I saw the dust and heard the dogs yapping. My feet barely touched the ground as I flew toward the noise. I heard someone call my name. It might have been Mahpiya’s mother or his sister, but I paid no attention. I rounded the second-to-last lodge at the front of the camp and cried out when I saw the raiding party had returned. Wives embraced husbands. Mothers their sons, children their fathers. Warriors laughed and slapped each other on the back as they bragged about the coup they had counted and ponies they had stolen from the Absaroke. I searched the face of every person in the crowd, praying to see my beloved. I didn’t hear any weeping, so I could only assume everyone who went had also returned. But I didn’t see my man anywhere. Tears welled in my eyes and the only thing that kept me going was hope. I got to the outskirts of the revelers and still didn’t see him. Grief nearly buckled my knees and my stomach felt as if I’d been kicked. I wrapped my arms around myself and I turned to walk back toward the village when someone tapped my shoulder.
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“Looking for someone, Sunshine?” I froze, praying his voice wasn’t a figment of my imagination. I turned and the world stood still. The noise from the celebration receded and so did everyone around us until it was as if we two were the last beings on earth. My man stood heads above the other men, sweaty, grungy and grinning. Crying out, I threw myself at him, shivering as he caught me. The feel of his hands on my bare skin sent joy skittering through my body. Covering his face with kisses, I held him and cried. “Mahpiya! Oh, God. You were gone so long. I thought something happened to you.” Shame wasn’t a word I knew as I babbled and peppered his face with kisses. “Omašte, ceye šni yo.” Don’t cry, Sunshine. He squeezed me tighter and I cried harder. They were tears of relief and tears of pain. Relief because he had returned, pain because the thought of drawing another breath without him nearly broke my heart. And knowing the life we lived, this would not be the last time we would be apart for a significant amount of time. “Your tears are killing me, Sunshine. Please don’t cry. I would promise to never leave you again, but I haven’t lied to you before and I’m not going to start now.” He set me back away from him and I was embarrassed that it only made me cry harder. He took my chin in his hands, leaned down and kissed the moisture on my cheeks. There, in front of the other warriors, in front of almost the entire village and God, my man, who usually was only affectionate when we were in the privacy of our lodge, laid himself bare. “Remember what I said?” I sniffled and nodded, feeling the fool because I knew we had an audience. It was a small boon that he spoke in English and, as far as I knew, we were the only two in the village who spoke the language. He took my hand and laid it against his bare chest. “Not even death will separate us,” I recited as his heart pounded against my palm and my own sped up, matching his beat for beat. 48
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“Come on.” As we walked hand in hand toward his mother’s lodge, I heard her cry out when she saw us. Weeping, she ran toward us and I let go of Mahpiya’s hand so he could go meet her. Mahpiya’s mother fussed over him as I stood a couple feet away with his sister and aunts who had come to welcome him back. His mother declared he was skin and bones and tried to feed him. Declining food, he stepped away and held out his hand to me. I blushed and the women gathered giggled, guessing from the look in his eyes and the heat in my cheeks we didn’t seek the privacy of our lodge to talk. I preceded him into our wakaya, and despite his earlier assertions that he wasn’t hungry, I immediately went to grab food and water for him. Suddenly shy, I hid behind wifely duties. “Hihnaku, let me fix you something to eat.” He came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. Utensils dropped from my nerveless fingers as his touch scorched my skin. “I am starving, Sunshine.” His lips brushed the nape of my neck and his hands rose to cover my breasts. Chuckling, he pressed them against my erect nipples. “And, from the feel of it, so are you.” My sex became heavy with arousal and, instantly, I was wet. I moaned, pressed myself harder into his hands and let my head fall back to rest against his chest. “Have you missed me, Sunshine?” Gathering the hem of my dress, he worked it up over my hips toward my stomach. When it was bunched around my waist, he dipped his fingers between my legs, skimming my pussy before parting the lips of my sex. He groaned as my wetness coated his fingertips. “Yes, you definitely missed me.” I ground my hips back into his erection. I gasped, turned and searched for the ties of his breechclout. The laces came undone, the material fell to the floor and I wrapped my hand around his cock. As he massaged my breasts through my dress, I grasped him firmly, loving the way his breath hissed from between his teeth. Letting go of him, I pulled my dress up over my head and stood before him naked. “God, Sunshine. You have no idea how many nights I dreamt of this moment. My dick was the only thing harder than the ground I slept on.” He grabbed the cheeks of 49
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my ass and lifted me off the ground. I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. The rock-hard flesh of his abs tantalized my wet flesh, and I ground myself against him, trying to get more pressure on my clit. He groaned, his lips covering mine. His tongue spearing into my mouth and sparring with my own. Whimpering, I rocked against him. The tiny sounds in the back of my throat were my way of begging him to fuck me and douse the fire he started. He lifted me higher, reached between us, grabbed his cock and rubbed it back and forth against my slit. “Please,” I panted. I loosened my grip on his neck and leaned back, giving him access to my breasts. He leaned down and swiped his tongue over one of the crests. So close. He pulled the other into his mouth, drawing deeply, and I cried out. Pain mixed with pleasure as he pinched it between his teeth, worrying it before pulling it back into the warm cavern of his mouth to soothe it. “Please.” I was so close. His smile was unadulterated sin. “Please what, Sunshine?” Heat flushed me, started in my cheeks it spread onto my breasts, tightening my nipples. He wanted me to say the words. I pouted and nearly refused, but I needed him inside me more than I needed to maintain what little sense of decorum I had left. “Fuck me,” I whispered. “Please, fuck me.” “Thought you’d never ask.” He raised me again and sat me directly on his cock. I groaned as I slid down on him by increments, his cock tunneling deep to rest against the entrance of my womb. I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck again as my pussy contracted around him. He was so deep and hard that it was beyond description. Tears leaked from my eyes and without conscious thought my lower body undulated against him, grinding him deeper inside me. He growled and his hands tightened painfully around my ass.
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“More,” I gasped. More depth, more pain, just plain more. He lifted me and, as he slid out of me, the feel of the head of his cock drawing across the sensitive nerve endings had me crying out. Remembering the village stirring around us, I sank my teeth into the skin of his shoulder to muffle my cries as my sex clenched tight on him. “Fuck,” he groaned and slammed into me. I whimpered as the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the space as he worked me hard on his length. I could only hang on for the ride as he bent his knees slightly, arching up and hitting that lovely spot that sent moisture flooding my cunt as he thrust and retreated, thrust and retreated. My pussy contracted and I came hard, my face buried in the crook of his neck not enough to muffle the sound of my cry. He thrust hard once, twice, and groaned as he came inside me. Minutes, hours later, I lay cradled atop of his chest, the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath my ear. “Do you think we made a baby?” I snuggled closer to him as his arms tightened around me. He hesitated before he spoke, more than likely because he knew how very much I wanted a baby. It was going on a year and a half since we had first made love and I still hadn’t become pregnant. Rolling me onto my back, he loomed over me and laid the palm of his hand flat against my stomach. “I hope so.” He bent and brushed his mouth over mine, before taking me back in his arms. “I really hope so, Sunshine.”
***** I woke gasping for breath. Crescent imprints marked my legs where my fingernails had dug into my skin. Slowly, I unclenched my fingers, wiggled them in an effort to bring blood back into them and concentrated on breathing. I didn’t know how long I’d been asleep. The curtains were closed, but I could tell it was still night. 51
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I sat in the cool room, loving the blackness that surrounded me. Strange for a woman who spent the majority of her youth terrified by nightmares—you’d think the darkness would be no friend of mine. I placed my feet on the floor and rose from the couch when I heard the knock. I froze, the frenzied pace of my heart loud in the quiet room. It was Gabe. I didn’t need to check the peephole to confirm the identity of the visitor on my doorstep. With every fiber of my being I knew who it was, just as I knew it would be at my own peril to open the door to him with the intense arousal from the dream/memory thrumming through my body. I walked toward the door and stopped a few feet away from it. I flinched when the knock sounded again and the dream replayed in my mind. “Sunshine, I know you’re there.” A shiver ran through me and I fought my body, which begged for me to open the door and let Gabe alleviate the need plaguing it. I stepped closer and rested my forehead against it as my body waged a silent war with my mind. My mind finally won out as I remembered how far I’d come. I couldn’t let my lust for Gabe destroy the life I had worked so hard to create. The dreams weren’t real and, just like my lust for Gabe, they’d eventually fade and disappear. I wouldn’t let them or Gabe control me. I took a deep, shuddering breath and stepped back from the door. “I know you’re scared.” He hesitated before he whispered, “I’m scared too. But whether you open the door or not, Sunshine, this isn’t the end of it.” Ignoring the truth and warning in Gabe’s words and the ache in my chest, I walked away and made my way from the darkened living room to my bedroom. I didn’t undress before I pulled the covers back and lay down. I hugged my pillow and fought the need to close my eyes. Even after my eyes adjusted to the blackness of the room, the pain in my chest hadn’t lessened.
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Staring into the darkness of the room, my eyes blurred. Tears slowly turned to sobs as I allowed myself to mourn for all that couldn’t be and would never be. I cried until my stomach was a mass of knots and my chest was tight and then I cried some more. When I woke the next morning, my eyes were red and swollen. I couldn’t remember if I dreamt last night. After I took a shower, I decided to call my mother. Our relationship had never been close, but the little girl in me still sought her comfort and approval. Plus, things were different now. I was an adult and there wasn’t any reason I shouldn’t be able to discuss my feelings with my mother. The phone rang twice and I resisted the urge to slam it down. “Dr. Bryant’s residence.” I swallowed hard, relieved that my mother hadn’t answered the phone. It was Marge, my parents’ housekeeper. Hopefully, it meant my mother wasn’t in. “Hi, Marge, is my mother in?” “Dr. Bryant! How nice to hear your voice.” “Hannah,” I corrected automatically, even though I knew she’d continue to call me Dr. Bryant, more than likely at my mother’s insistence. “And it’s good to hear your voice too, Marge.” “And, yes, Mrs. Bryant is in. Let me get her for you.” She put the phone on hold before I could protest. The palms of my hands grew damp and I thought of excuses to give my mother so I could conclude our conversation before it began. “Mrs. Elliott Bryant speaking.” Her voice was crisp and precise. The way she’d said it, you’d think Elliott was her first name instead of my father’s. Why she felt the need to say her whole name was beyond me, especially since Marge had probably told her I was the one who was calling.
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Clearing my throat, I hesitated a moment before I spoke. “Hello, Mo—” I caught myself before I called her “momma”. It was a title she had made clear in the past she disdained, because it was too close to “mama”, which was too close to “mammy”—and she was no one’s mammy. Yes, that was my mother—the only person I knew who could get a derogatory meaning out of the word momma. “Mother. How are you?” “I am well, Hannah.” It didn’t surprise me she didn’t ask how I was, but it still stung. “Uh, Mother, I wanted to talk to you about something.” It was as if I were eight years old all over again. She made a tsking noise. “Don’t tell me you gained more weight, Hannah Colleen Bryant! You know perfectly well that when you get home and accept Marcus’ proposal we’ll only have months to plan your wedding! How are we going to do that if you’re as big as a house?” Tears welled in my eyes and I blinked rapidly. It shouldn’t be this hard to talk to my own mother. “No.” I hesitated. I wanted to say “mom”, because that’s what I needed—my mom. “No, I wanted to talk to you about…I’ve been having the dreams again.” My mother sucked in a breath and I waited to hear a dial tone. The dreams were something we did not talk about. “I don’t know what to do, Mother. I—” “Hannah, why are you calling me about this? I am an extremely busy and you are not a child anymore. Doing this may have gotten your father’s attention then, but you’re a full-grown woman. A doctor, for heaven’s sake. If you can’t handle a little nightmare or two, how do you expect to survive the demands of a successful practice?” Once again I was a child, shivering in my too-big bed, crying out for her in vain. Breathing deeply, I fought for control, when all I really wanted to do was wail like a two-year-old and beg her to love me. 54
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“Of course, you’re right, Mother. I’m sorry to have bothered you, I have to go—” The phone clicked before I was able to finish my sentence. Phone cradled to my ear, I berated myself. Why had I put myself through that? Why did I ask for something from her that she was so clearly incapable of giving? I hung up the phone, ignoring the tightness in my chest and burning in my eyes. I wasn’t eight years old, and it was time for me to stop acting as if I were. Picking up the phone again, I dialed Marcus’ office phone number. Even though it was Saturday, I knew I’d reach him at the office before I would at home. “Dr. Edwards.” I hesitated a moment, guilt washing through me. Not once had I thought about Marcus in the past week. Yet, I called him, not because I wanted to speak with him or hear his voice, but because I needed something. “Hey, Marcus. It’s Hannah,” I said quietly. “Hey, Hannah. Guess you knew just where to find me, huh?” He laughed. I laughed too, the sound weak and forced. “Yes. How are you?” It took a moment before he answered and, from the sound in the background, it was because he shuffled through the paperwork on his desk. Even on a Saturday, I came second in his life. I shook off the bitterness. I was the one who had asked for the break. Even when we officially together, it wasn’t as if I had made an effort to make Marcus or our relationship a priority in my life either. “Fine. Fine. How about you? How are you doing out there in the wilds of North Dakota?” “South Dakota,” I correctly automatically, but he hadn’t heard me. “Ready to come home? You only have four more months, right?” “Actually, this is my last month. I come home at the end of this month,” I whispered.
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“Really? Time sure did fly.” He laughed again. “Hannah, I have to run over to the hospital to check on a patient. Can I call you back?” My eyes stung again and I swallowed against the lump in my throat, feeling pathetic and alone. “Marcus, I really need to talk to you.” “I’m sure it can wait, Hannah, I really need to get to the hospital.” “I’m having the dreams again,” I blurted. It was so quiet, I worried he had hung up before I was able to say the words. I rushed to fill the silence. “For the past month now I’ve had really graphic dreams as I had when I was a child.” I wasn’t lying, but neither was I telling the whole truth. The dreams I had been having had nothing in common with the ones in my youth. “Dreams.” I didn’t know if he were repeating the word or if it were a question, but I answered anyway. “Yes. Could you call me in a sedative and maybe it would help…” “Help relax you, so you don’t dream? Okay. Do you have a pharmacy number?” I should have been relieved, but a part of me was disappointed that he was so quick to want to medicate me instead of talking to me, comforting me, assuring me I wasn’t crazy. Walking to the refrigerator, I read the number to him of the pharmacy that was about forty miles outside the reservation. “Okay. It was nice talking to you, but I have to go now. Call you back later.” I nodded and then realized he couldn’t see me. “Yes. Talk to you later. Thanks, Marcus.” “Bye, Hannah.” “Bye.” I set the phone back in its cradle and wished it were Monday. At least if the clinic were open, I would have something to distract me and keep my mind occupied. Looking around my kitchen, I searched for something to do but there were no dishes in the sink, no garbage that needed taking out.
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I walked into the living room, fluffed the couch pillows and sat down. Marcus hadn’t hesitated to give me the prescription. In a way, I thought he would have given me anything to get me off the phone. Not that I begrudged him his dedication, but wasn’t there certain times that I should be just a little more important than his work? Looking around my living room, I couldn’t think of anything that needed to be done. Maybe if I drove to the town where the pharmacy was, I could catch a movie. I got up and went to my bedroom to change. I hadn’t been to the movies in a while and anything at that moment was better than staying in the house and feeling sorry for myself. The drive to Hayden took me less than an hour. After parking outside the pharmacy, I picked up the prescription and then drove to the movie theater. I sat alone in the dark movie theater, but couldn’t pay attention to the film. It was a comedy, but nothing that happened made me laugh. I gave up and left before it finished. I didn’t really pay attention to much as I drove home. After I parked the car, I went to the kitchen and set the prescription on the counter, looked at the container before I opened it and shook out a pill. Popping it into my mouth, I washed it down with water before I could give myself time for second thoughts. Usually I would lay awake for hours before I went to sleep, but that night I went to sleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
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Chapter Four “Dr. Bryant?” My gaze lifted from a chart to meet Robin’s worried gaze. It had been more than a week since I had started taking the medication, more than a week since I had had a dream and more than a week since I had last seen Gabe. There had been no further “episodes”. Robin and I had gotten back to the easy camaraderie we’d established before the incident, so I couldn’t begin to guess what had put the anxious look on her face. “Yes, Robin?” She hesitated before she spoke. “The chief is here to see you.” I smiled to reassure her. She probably thought I’d go into hysterics again and there’d be another ugly scene. “Is he here for medical attention?” She shook her head. “No, he said he’s here on personal business.” “You can show him in.” I put my pen down and shut the file I’d been working on. Gabe walked into the office and instantly the space seemed smaller. I gestured for him to sit in the chair in front of my desk. “Robin, do we have any more patients scheduled for today?” Wringing her hands, she shook her head no, but didn’t make a move to leave Gabe and me alone. “It’s okay, Robin. Why don’t you head on home?” She looked as if she were going to protest, looking pointedly at Gabe, who had ignored my offer of a seat and instead paced my office. His movements reminded me of
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a caged animal. I could feel the hostility radiating off him and something more— something more I refused to think about. I smiled before saying, “Goodnight, Robin.” “Goodnight, Dr Bryant. Chief.” Gabe didn’t respond. He continued prowling as she closed the door softly behind her. “Gabe, why don’t you have a seat? You’re going to wear a hole in my floor.” I kept my voice light, hoping it would ease some of the tension out of my shoulders and help erase the storm I could see brewing in his eyes. He stopped, his back to me. I could see the muscles in his shoulders bunch and release as he took a deep breath. “What have you done, Sunshine?” he asked. I didn’t correct him; I refused to. The only thing that mattered was that the medication had done its job, and hopefully like the dreams my desire for Gabe would soon disappear too. I had my doubts though as the warmth of his voice washed over me. “I beg your pardon? I don’t know what you’re talking about, Chief Leader Charge.” At my use of his last name and his title, he spun around, his face a mask of fury. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Dr. Bryant. The dreams have stopped.” I laid my hands on top of the desk, one on top of the other. “And what exactly does that have to do with me?” I spoke calmly, even though I wanted to scream at him, to ask him why the hell he was doing this to me. Gabe came around my desk and grabbed my chair. Spinning it to face him, he placed a hand on each of the arms, imprisoning me and invading my personal space. My breathing hitched and my heartbeat sped up. It doesn’t matter. Just because your body reacts to him, it doesn’t mean a thing.
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I almost believed it. Then again, I had become so adept at rationalizing the irrational why wouldn’t I believe just another one of the many lies I had told myself? “Listen to me carefully, Omašte.” His breath feathered against my temple as he as he leaned down, his face inches from mine. “There are some things in this world you can’t control. I don’t know how you stopped the dreams, but you should really think about why you felt the need to stop them.” He moved in closer and, for one insane moment, I thought he was going to kiss me. My eyes fluttered shut. The chair jerked as he moved away and my cheeks heated as I watched him stalk out of the office.
***** I cradled Keya to my chest, rocking him. He was gone and had been for hours. I knew it, but still I couldn’t let him go. The salty tang of blood seeped into my mouth as my teeth punctured the soft flesh of my lip. I continued to rock and sing to him softly as I fought the wail of grief rising in my chest. Grieving would have to wait. I was at least a mile from the village but that didn’t mean there weren’t soldiers about, finding, raping and mutilating those they hadn’t already murdered. The last thing I wanted to do was draw them to where I hid. It took almost all the strength I had to get us this far and I faced the fact that there was no way I’d be able to carry him any farther. Tears ran down my face and I clutched him tighter, knowing I would have to put him down soon. Not even four years old and his life had been stolen from him. Looking toward the sky, I prayed again. And it took everything I had not to pray for death. A branch cracked and I tried to scramble to my feet. Keya’s weight combined with my swollen belly made it awkward and I fell back to the ground. My mind raced. I had nothing to protect us with. I would rather die than let one of the soldiers disfigure my son’s body or endanger my unborn by raping me.
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Gingerly laying Keya down, I placed a kiss on his cold cheek before I scanned the area around me for a makeshift weapon. Grabbing a thick tree branch, I struggled to my feet, swaying as another pain ripped through my back. They’d started minutes apart as soon as the militia had rode into the village but they were coming closer and closer. Up until now I had been able to ignore them and I tried to continue do so as I walked toward the sound and waited for the soldiers to come. It took me a minute to recognize the man running toward us. Mahpiya! In the melee of the battle, I’d lost track of him. Taking a step toward him, I willed my feet to move but, instead, my knees buckled as a spasm of pain tore across my belly. I cried out and I crumpled to the ground. “Hiya! No!” I screamed as Mahpiya came closer toward us. So relieved to see him, I’d forgotten he didn’t know about Keya. He ignored my cry and, as he reached me, he knelt down and took me in his arms. “Oh, God, Sunshine! I couldn’t find you anywhere.” I could taste the salt of his tears as he pressed his mouth to mine. “But I knew you weren’t dead. I knew it because I didn’t feel it here.” He placed my hand on his chest and I bit back a sob. I cradled his face in my hands, kissing the moisture off his cheeks. “Mahpiya…” I couldn’t bring myself to say the words, but I knew I had to before he noticed our son’s lifeless body. “Where’s Keya?” I cried out, from grief and from a contraction that threatened to split me apart. Weeping, I whispered, “He’s gone.” Mahpiya shook his head, a confused look on his face. “Gone? Gone where?” It was then he noticed the tiny body not twenty feet from us. “No!” he cried. Scrambling around me, he ran to Keya and picked him up, crushing him to his chest. “No! No! No!” Sobs tore from him as he clutched our son.
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My heart broke as I could only watch as my husband held our son for the last time. I closed my eyes and bit back a cry as another pain hit me. Concentrating on keeping my breathing even, I clutched my belly and hoped the pains would stop. “Sunshine, can you get up? We have to get away from here.” Looking up, I met Mahpiya’s eyes as he stood holding Keya. Before I could answer, moisture rushed from between my legs and I gasped. The baby was coming. Oh, God! It was too soon. I’d only had my last moon six months ago. Moaning, I curled into a ball. Convoluted thinking had me clenching my legs together in an attempt to stop the labor. Blood began pooling where I sat. Mahpiya swayed and bit back a moan. He walked to me and laid Keya next to me. “What are we going to do?” I whispered. The sun had begun to set and I could no longer hear the sounds of screaming or gunfire. But that didn’t mean the soldiers still weren’t near. We couldn’t stay here. Kneeling on the other side of me, Mahpiya picked up my hand and pressed it against his lips. “We’re going to have a baby.” His breath feathered against my skin, warming me, and I silently thanked God for letting me see Mahpiya again. Even if… “It’s too soon—” He pressed his fingers against my lips gently and shook his head. He didn’t allow me to say what we both knew. “Scoot down a little.” I did as he asked as he lifted my dress. “I need you to push for me, Sunshine.” Nodding, I gritted my teeth and bore down. “Wašte. Wašte,” he praised, rubbing my belly as it knotted with another contraction. By the time our daughter was born, the sun had long set. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I waited in vain for her first cry, knowing in my heart it would never come. 62
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Mahpiya held her, whispering endearments to her before placing her on my chest. Taking off his shirt, he laid it over the both of us before settling at my side. “I have to go,” he whispered minutes later, pressing his lips against my temple. He didn’t say where; he didn’t have to. He was going to bury Keya. Nodding, I swallowed the protests that came automatically to my lips. Keya had never been alone before and the thought of him alone and cold in the darkness was unbearable. Closing my eyes, I held my little girl and prepared myself to let her go, too. “Don’t be afraid, little one.” My voice cracked. “Your grandpa, grandma and brother are waiting for you.” I kissed her tiny cheek. “I love you.” My bleeding hadn’t stopped and even though I knew Mahpiya had noticed, he hadn’t mentioned it. Sometime while Mahpiya was gone, I’d had fallen asleep. He came back to take the baby from me. It was too soon, but I didn’t have the strength to fight him. Everything was so hazy. I felt him come back and gather me into his arms and I struggled to open my eyes. Cradled in his embrace, I raised my hand to wipe the tears off his cheeks. “I love you,” I whispered. “Thank you for loving and taking care of us.” He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against mine before saying, “I love you too. This is not the end for us. Remember that, Sunshine. Your breath, my breath. Your life, my life. Not even death will separate us.” With my last breath I repeated, “Not even death will separate us.”
***** “Gabe, what are you doing here?” I refused to look up, the tiny spot on my carpet suddenly fascinating. I didn’t trust myself with this man and with good reason. In his presence, I found myself doing and saying things I’d never said or done before. And worse, wanting things I’d never wanted before.
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Heart thumping, I stood in my doorway, clinging to my front door as if it would stop me from touching Gabe. There were so many things I wanted to do him. The touch, the taste, the imprint of his body against mine was seared into my very soul. I flinched as his calloused palm caressed my face, setting off a well of emotion and bringing back memories I’d hoped I’d lost. I struggled against the need for his touch a moment before I gave in, closed my eyes and leaned into him. Tears stung my eyes, and it took the last bit of strength I had not to throw myself into his arms and beg him to make it all go away. Oh, God, it was all true. The dreams—no, memories—and the fierce pain that accompanied them came up from the depths of me as images of Keya lying broken and lifeless on the ground seared my brain. Our baby girl, whom I had named only to have her father bury her next to her brother moments later. “I knew you needed me.” Gabe’s voice, Mahpiya’s voice, was rough, yet it soothed me, offering the comfort I desperately needed. He didn’t ask permission to come in. Nor did I protest as he did because his closeness had already started to banish the cold that had seeped into my bones the moment the dream had begun tonight. I opened my eyes, but kept them downcast, knowing if I looked into his and saw the same pain and sorrow mirrored in them, I would shatter into a million pieces. And at that moment, as much as I needed him, I wasn’t sure if even he would be able to put me back together again. “You had the dream, too,” I whispered. “Yes.” The images washed over me again, and a sob escaped my lips. I couldn’t hold it back.
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“Our babies…” I choked out. The pain was fresh, as if it just happened yesterday instead of a lifetime ago, another life ago. It hurt so badly and in a way I didn’t think anything else would ever hurt. I wanted to howl with the rage of it. I didn’t resist when he folded me into his embrace. I shuddered, wrapped my arms around his waist and rested my head against his chest. I could hear his heart beat beneath my ear, comforting and familiar as my own. Rubbing my back, he offered his strength and the heat of his body warmed mine. He continued to hold me, softly speaking promises. Promises that it would be okay— some way he would make it okay. For once I didn’t ask questions. Didn’t ask him how, nor did I remind him righting the wrong that had been done was way beyond our reach. All that mattered were his intentions, the honesty I tasted in his words and the solace I knew I’d find in his arms as the comfort he offered shifted slowly to something different. My nipples tightened and the shame that heated my cheeks wasn’t enough to kill the arousal invading my body. I knew his body as well as I did my own and I didn’t need the dreams to remind me of the way it felt beneath mine, over mine. He pulled back and lifted my chin, so I had no choice but to meet his gaze. His head descended slowly, giving me more than enough time to turn away before his lips touched mine. From the way he hesitated, I knew he expected me to resist, to refuse what he was offering. But I didn’t, wouldn’t. I needed him. After everything I had seen and experienced tonight, I prayed his touch would wash away the bad and replace it with good. I moaned as his tongue touched the seam of my lips and I opened them for him. All of a sudden, I could remember our first true kiss. It was as if being there all over again. His mouth moved over mine and I held on to his shoulders as my world spun. We broke away, eyes locked, both panting for breath. I took his hand and led him to my bedroom. 65
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The room was dark, but I didn’t turn on the light. Neither of us spoke as he unbuttoned my nightshirt. His movements were slow, deliberate, and soon I stood before him in only my panties, moonlight dappling my bare skin. I sat on the bed and he knelt between my splayed knees. His hands covered my breasts, brushing my nipples. He bent his head and licked the tip before sucking it deep into his mouth. Every deep draw echoed in my pussy. Tangling my hands in his hair, I held him to me. He groaned as I ran my hands up and down his back before settling on his shoulders. He pushed me backward as he stood and whipped his shirt over his head. Shadows danced against the hard planes of his stomach and chest. Lying against the bed, I fought to catch my breath as I took him in. I wanted to close my eyes when he reached for his zipper, but refused to be a coward. I would go into this with both eyes open or I wouldn’t go at all. The metallic rasp of his zipper shattered the silence in the room. His eyes held mine as he pushed the material of his pants and boxers down over his hips. His cock rose thick and hard, curving upward, past his bellybutton. I swallowed thickly, not sure how I’d fit all of it inside me. It was a little more than I was used to accommodating. I finally gave myself permission to close my eyes as he rose to his feet and stood over me. His hands brushed over my hips and I lifted them as so he could work my panties down my legs. The bed dipped. Splaying a hand over my slightly rounded belly, he bent and covered my mouth with his. I gave myself up to the kiss and trembled as his hand swept the length of my body, exploring every valley, nook and curve. Making his way down my body, he took my ankles in his hands, pushed them apart and spread my legs to expose my pussy. Settling between my legs, he lifted them to drape over his shoulders until my pussy was a breath away from his face. Without him touching me, arousal lit my body aflame
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and the intensity of it bordered on painful, stringing my nerves tight with the expectation. “Gabe.” He looked up at me from between my splayed thighs and smiled. My heart tripped as his smile made warmth like sunshine blossom in my chest. In a way, it aroused me more than anything else he had done. Dipping his head, he ran his cheek along the smoothness of my inner thigh before kissing my slit and tracing it with his tongue. I moaned as the wet caress sent a lightning bolt of pleasure through my body, bowing my back. “Please.” In this life, in this body, I’d never had a man’s mouth on me there, but I knew in that other time and other place, we had loved like this. His fingers parted the swollen lips of my sex and his tongue touched my clit, pressing down firmly before he took the tiny bundle of nerves into his mouth and drawing on it. My hands clenched in the bed sheets and I arched into his mouth, crying out as he devoured me. Ecstasy built with each pass of his tongue and my hips rocked in time with every movement. His finger played with the wetness glistening at my opening before he dipped into me and coated it with my cream. He worked one digit and then another inside me and I shattered, crying out his name as wave after wave crashed over me. Boneless, I collapsed against the bed, my breath coming in panting gasps as he moved his way up my body. I could feel his cock brush my leg as he settled between my thighs. As he braced his forearms along either side of my head, his gaze held mine as he entered me with a deep, slow thrust. I was hot, damp, but still my body took its time accepting the slow slide of his cock as he filled me, stretched me. “Am I too deep?” he whispered, holding still to give my body time to adjust. Clutching his back, I placed my heels flat against the bed and arched up, opening myself to him. The action answered his question better than words could.
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Gabe breathed my name as he pulled out. Groaning, I tilted my pelvis and he met the movement and sank back inside me. Wrapping my legs high on his waist, I held on to him as he stroked into me. His cock glided over that sensitive spot inside me and my muscles clenched on him as I came again. I cried out and it was if the sound was enough to make him let go. He pounded into me, thrusting once, twice, before he groaned and spilled himself inside me. Resting his head in the curve of my neck, I held him and ran my hands up and down his sweat-slick back as my flesh still pulsed around his. “I’ve waited more than a lifetime to be in your arms again,” he whispered. My hands rested on his shoulders as he trembled above me. Pressing his lips to mine, he whispered, “Your breath, my breath. Your life, my life. Not even death will separate us.”
***** I woke nestled against Gabe’s chest, the steady beat of his heart a comfort beneath my ear. It wasn’t morning yet and the darkness surrounding us was peaceful. For the first time in my life, I felt safe, whole and content. Turning my head, I kissed the place where Gabe’s heart beat. Unable to help myself, I placed a kiss on his nipple. I knew how it felt when he licked, sucked and bit me there. Curious, I wondered if it felt the same for him. I swiped my tongue over the crest and watched it draw tight. My own heart pounded as I felt his cock grow hard beneath me. Raising my head, I looked straight into his eyes. He was awake. Crimson bloomed in my cheeks, and I was amazed I was able to blush after all we’d already done. He chuckled and I inched up until I was able to bury my face in his neck. Gabe’s hands swept over my back, reaching down, moving and guiding me until each of my legs were on either side of his and I lay astride him.
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Taking a deep breath, I memorized his scent and the texture of his skin as I brushed it against my lips. He ran his hands up and down my back, pressing me closer and tighter against him until his hands settled on the curve of my ass. I lifted as his cock prodded my belly and I reached between us to guide him inside me. Gasping, I sank down fully unto his hardness until nothing separated us. From chest to groin, we were aligned perfectly as my thighs hugged his hips tight. “Gabe.” His name was an entreaty. He knew what I needed and how to give it to me. The position was unfamiliar to me and so was the depth of his penetration, so much so it bordered on painful. “Shh…” he soothed as he raised me and the pressure eased as he slid out of me until he was at my entrance. His hands guided my hips as he showed me how to control the depth and rhythm of our loving. “That’s it, Omašte. That’s it,” he encouraged as I rocked against him. His breath hissed between his teeth as I came down harder, the walls of my cunt clutching him as my pace increased and his grip tightened on my ass. Leaning over, I covered his mouth with mine, mingling our breath as we gasped and trembled against each other. His stomach tightened against mine and I knew he was close. In that moment, there was nothing I wanted more than for him to come inside me, knowing that, in that other time and place, we’d created life in similar precious moments. Tears smarted behind my eyes. Was I brave enough to turn my back on everything I spent a lifetime building? To take this as rightfully mine for a lifetime, with no guilt, no hesitation. Who, as crazy as it may seem, was created solely for me as I was for him. Even if I dismissed everything else and just focused solely on the mutual attraction and sexual chemistry, that in itself should be enough to make me hesitate to walk away. His hands moved up my body and he wrapped them around my back, pulling me impossibly closer until I could no longer tell where I began and he ended. Before I knew it, I was on my back and he was above me, thrusting fast and hard into me as I 69
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convulsed around him. I cried out, grabbed handfuls of his hair and pulled his mouth down to mine. Our mouths meeting muffled his groan as he came inside me. I could feel every twitch and pulse of his cock as he rode out his orgasm inside my body. Something, no man, including Marcus, had ever done. And it wasn’t the first time and part of me prayed it wouldn’t be the last. I wiggled my hips. He hadn’t moved and if I was honest with myself, I didn’t want him to. The irrational side of me reasoning that if we stayed like this we’d never have to face a world that was against us. How could we ever be? We were from two different worlds, yet I wanted him and him only to be my world. I wanted the life and future that fate and circumstance had robbed us of before. You’d give up for your family for a stranger? You say you aren’t crazy but you’ve had unprotected sex—are those the actions of a sane person? I stiffened, nausea bubbling in my stomach. A couple of dreams and déjà vu weren’t foundations to build a solid relationship. I could be pregnant or, worse, get a disease. I didn’t know this man. Pushing at his shoulder, I tried to quell the rising panic as he pulled out of me and rolled over. Scooting down, I grabbed the first thing my fingers touched to cover myself. “We shouldn’t have done that.” I sat, wrapped in a comforter, on the edge of the bed. The stickiness between my thighs mocked me and made it impossible to forget the fact I may have ruined my life. How many times had we had sex the night before? If the stiffness in my limbs and the soreness in my thighs were any indication, it had been quite a few times. “Done what? Make love? Have sex? Fuck? Are you that deep in denial, Sunshine, that you can’t even say the words out loud?”
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I turned away from him even though what I really wanted to do was walk into his embrace and take the comfort waiting for me there. I clutched the covers tighter and walked toward the bathroom. “Gabe, I don’t know how to explain what’s going on, but what we did last night was wrong. I’m with someone. We—we’re on a break but when I get back…” I took a deep breath then whispered, “How am I supposed to marry Marcus, knowing what we did?” I gasped as he grabbed my arm and jerked me around to face him. “You would still marry someone else, knowing the truth? You’d still let another man touch you?” He grabbed my other arm and backed me against the wall until I was trapped between two immovable forces, the wall and his body. “Amayupta yo.” Answer me. “What do you want from me?” “I want what I’ve always wanted from you, what I’ll want from you as long as I have breath in my body. To go to sleep beside you at night, to wake with you wrapped around me in the morning. To hold you and feel my babies move in your belly.” He splayed his hand over my lower stomach, and I couldn’t help but remember in that other time, in that other place, how we would lie—my back to his front, his arms wrapped around me, heavy with his child. “Gabe,” I whispered, tired and heartsick. “Real life doesn’t work that way. I can’t leave my life and everything I worked for because I’ve had a couple dreams.” “I am that easy to dismiss? Is everything that we’ve shared that easy to dismiss? Why is it, Sunshine, that the only time I get an honest reaction from you is when I’m inside you?” I swallowed hard, his words having the desired effect on me, but he continued on ruthlessly.
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“The only time I know you’re truly with me is when I’m so deep inside you, I swear I can touch your soul.” His body crowded mine, the comforter the only thing separating us. I could feel his cock nudging my belly but I hung on to my resolve, to my sense of what was wrong and right. A little too late for that, don’t you think? “Please let me go, Gabe,” I whispered. His grip tightened and for a moment I thought he’d push the issue. Instead, he did as I asked and took a step back. “Please don’t do this, Sunshine. I’ve lost you once. I don’t know if I can take losing you again.” He raked a hand through his hair, pulling it back from his head and it was all I could do to meet the defeated and betrayed look in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Gabe.” A tear slipped down my cheek and I clenched my eyes shut to stop another from escaping. “So am I, Sunshine.” I kept my eyes closed as I listened to him dress and it took every last bit of strength I had to keep me standing. As I heard him slam out of my house, my knees buckled. Sliding down the wall, I stuffed my fists against my mouth to muffle my sobs.
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Chapter Five I hadn’t seen Gabe since he had stormed out of my house the week before. I tried to tell myself that I was relieved because he had finally gotten it through his head that it was over. No, that wasn’t right. Something that had never truly begun could be over. While I could lie to myself and suppress my feelings for Gabe my body had other ideas. Where I refused to face the truth, my body dealt in nothing but it. My body remembered every caress, kiss and touch as if they had been seared into my skin. I ached, body and soul. I could barely get through a day at the clinic without thoughts of him, of us and the things we had shared. How it felt to have him deep inside me and I blamed it on the dreams. I had stopped taking the medication. There was no reason to take it since it no longer stopped me from dreaming. I didn’t know if it was because I stopped or because Gabe and I made love, but the dreams I had now all centered on us having sex, each dream more graphic than the last. With the taste and scent of Gabe still lingering after I woke, taunting and mocking me. My twelve-hour shift at the clinic had seemed like twenty-four. It was hard to concentrate when you were constantly aroused and all you wanted was satisfaction. But it was just as elusive as sleep these days. I clenched my thighs together tight as I drove home. Too distracted by the trembling in my limbs, I didn’t notice the car parked in front of my house until it was too late.
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“Gabe! You startled me.” His lips quirked and I could tell he was fighting not to smile. “Sorry about that.” But from the way he drew out the words, I knew he was anything but. “Have any interesting dreams lately, Sunshine?” “Hannah. My name is Hannah, Gabe. Not…” I ignored his question and let my sentence drift off, unable to say the word. Gabe hit the switch on the wall, and the garage door whirred shut, plunging the two of us in darkness. I swallowed hard and my breathing quickened. It wasn’t so dark that I couldn’t see, and the light coming from my open car door helped. I watched him walk toward me in the dim garage as if it weren’t his first time being there. “You gonna shut the car door…Hannah?” The way he drew out my name made it sound decadent as a thick, rich dessert he couldn’t wait to gobble up. Ignoring the question, I clutched my purse tighter. “What are you doing here, Gabe?” “What do you think I’m doing here, Hannah?” Oh, God. My pussy clenched and I could feel myself become wetter. Pressing my thighs harder together, I answered his question with a question. “Could you please stop saying my name like that?” He chuckled and took a step closer to me. “Like what?” The need that had been so relentlessly riding my body all week doubled and my pulse throbbed in my every erogenous zone. My breath shuddered out of me and I whispered, “As if you’re hungry and I’m on the menu.” I wanted to take back the words as soon as I said them and the gleam in his eyes only made it more so. Prying my purse from my nearly numb hands, he tossed it onto the driver’s seat. “You can’t stand out here all night, Hannah.”
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Yes, I could. And I would, rather than go in the house, when he was sure to follow, where there was a couch and, worse, a bed. “Uh…I’m thinking of going to get something to eat.” It was a lie, but he didn’t need to know that. “Yeah, I am, too.” I gasped and didn’t know if it were the arousal clouding my mind or the heat in his voice that made me think it was me he talked of eating. A moan came unbidden from my throat as flashes of his mouth and tongue on me replayed in my mind. I didn’t protest when he took my hand and walked me around the open car door. Bumping it with his hip, he slammed it shut and pulled me to him. “You have any idea what I should eat, Hannah?” Jumping away from him, I backed toward the door that led to my entryway. “Gabe, I have to—” I wasn’t able to finish my sentence, because he grabbed me and drew me back to him. “Where are you going? You’re moving so fast it’s almost as if you’re running from something. Are you, Hannah?” “No, of course not,” I whispered as I took another step back, only to hit the wall behind me. “You look guilty. Are you? Did you do something you didn’t have any business doing?” He pulled me back to him again until my back was against his chest and he rasped softly against my ear, “Am I going to have to frisk you?” He placed his hand against my back and bent me over until I was splayed over the hood of my car. Putting my hands beneath me, I pushed up, only to have him take both my wrists in his hands and pull my arms outward until they almost stretched the length of the car. “Maybe even handcuff you?”
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Transferring both of my wrists into one hand, he nudged my legs apart and settled between them, his cock nudging me as he used his free hand to work my skirt up and over my hips. The flimsy material of my panties didn’t stand a chance against the strength of his hands as he snapped the string on the side and pulled them from me. His hands smoothed over my bare ass cheeks, slapping each one hard before reaching between my legs and rubbing my slit. Swallowing a moan, I resisted the urge to arch back into his touch. “You never answered the question I asked you earlier.” His voice was casual as he worked his fingers inside me. As if he were doing no more than discussing the weather instead of about to make me come. He removed his hand and I swallowed a cry of protest as he turned me and hoisted me onto the hood. Taking one of my ankles in each of his hands, he slid my feet upward until the back of my heels nearly touched my bottom, leaving me splayed wide open. He leaned between them until he was inches from my pussy. His warm breath caressed me and the intensity of my arousal bordered on painful, stringing my nerves tight with the expectation until I was only a touch or taste away from coming. “Mmm…you smell good.” I shivered as he pressed his lips to my inner thigh. “Good enough to…” “Gabe.” “Yes, Hannah?” He looked up from between my legs and smiled. He knew what I wanted, just as he knew how to make me say the words. I swore my heart stopped beating as he smiled that familiar, sinful smile that never failed to arouse me. “Please, Gabe.” “Please what, Hannah?”
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I trembled as my pussy clenched, the small caress not enough to get me where I wanted to go. “Please…” my tongue tripped over the words, “kiss me.” “Kiss you,” he repeated. “Where? Here?” He pressed a chaste kiss to my mound and I cried out in frustration. His eyes twinkled as he chuckled. “You said kiss you and I did.” Swallowing hard, I took a deep breath. “Lick me.” I thought I’d choke on the two words, but the needs of my body far outweighed my embarrassment. “Thought you’d never ask.” I moaned as he tongued my slit and sent a lightning bolt of pleasure through my body. “Yes,” I hissed. He licked my clit before taking it in into his mouth and sucking. My hands scrabbled against the smooth surface of the car for purchase as I arched into his mouth, crying out as he tongue-fucked me. He lifted his head and I almost cried out from the loss—until I heard the clink of his belt buckle and the rasp of his zipper. He pulled me down and I slid easily off the car. Turning me around, he bent over me again, his body covering mine. As he nuzzled my neck, his erection nudged my ass while his hands manacled mine, his forearms resting on either side of my head. His cock pressed against my drenched slit, he thrust once and slid home. My body didn’t resist the penetration but accepted him gladly. He held my hips still as he moved slowly against me. I cried out sharply and writhed beneath him. My body tightened as my orgasm built, but his slow and methodic movements weren’t enough to make me come. I needed more. “Harder,” I panted.
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He ignored me at first, still prohibiting the movement of my lower body as he thrust deeper inside me, bumping my cervix. I moaned, refusing to give voice to my pleas for satisfaction, but instead turned my head and sank my teeth into his forearm. Grunting, he slammed into me. One deep, hard thrust became another and another until he hammered into me, the sounds of our gasping breaths and skin slapping against skin loud in the room. Suddenly, he withdrew. On the edge of orgasm, I cried out. The only thing that kept me from sliding down the car in to a boneless heap on the ground was the firm grip he had on me. Gabe wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me to a standing position. I leaned against him, shaking, arousal dripping down my leg. Turning me around, he hoisted me up to sit on the car again. With a solid stroke, he was back inside me. Capturing my mouth with his, our tongues tangled as he held still, hard and deep inside me. My nails dug in to his back as I rocked my lower body against his. Breaking the kiss, he gently removed my hands. “Am I still not real to you?” A dull thud sounded as I flopped backward onto the hood of the car and covered my face with my hands. “Answer me, Sunshine.” I attempted to move again, but he held my lower body still as he bent over me and took my nipple into his mouth. “Answer me,” he commanded, biting down. “Gabe!” My cunt spasmed on his cock and he hesitated a moment before he thrust into me again. And again. I didn’t remove my hands from my face as he pushed inside my body deeper and deeper. “I lost you once. I don’t think I’d survive losing you again.” As he continued to stroke into me, he moved my hands away from my face and rested his forehead against mine. Our breath mingled as my body drew tight again.
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I was on the edge, my pussy tightened, contracting around his cock, and I gasped as he stopped abruptly. He pulled his face back until he could look into my eyes. Imprisoning both of my wrists in one of his hands, he stretched them over my head and held them as he sank deep, with one measured, rough thrust. “Say it, Sunshine. Say you’ll never leave me again.” “Never,” I gasped. “Never again.” He didn’t withdraw but pressed deeper, nudging until he could go no farther. He stayed that way for a moment, as if he concentrated on the feel of my muscles quivering around his cock before he withdrew. I could feel every thick inch of him as it dragged against my sensitive nerve endings. How could I give this up? It was as if my body had been molded to fit his. Was there truth to my hastily promise of never leaving him? Doubts disappeared on a shard of ecstasy as he slammed back in deep, one thrust blurring into another and another as he pounded into me. My body drew tight and I bit my lip to swallow my cries. Every move of his body against mine pushed me farther and farther up that incline until I craved the fall. I arched against him, wrapping my legs tighter around his waist when he hit my spot and hurled me into orgasm. “Gabe.” I didn’t know if I whispered or screamed his name, all I knew was that I was coming so hard it made me lightheaded. He groaned as my pussy clamped down on his cock, throwing his rhythm off. Burying his head in the crook of my neck, he pounded into me harder and faster until he stiffened and he shuddered as he came inside me. We stayed that way for a while, with him still deep inside me, pinning me against the car and my legs wrapped tight around his waist. As our breathing and heartbeats returned to normal, I realized—once again too late—the thought of protection had not crossed my mind. “What are we going to do, Omašte?” he asked, finally breaking the silence. 79
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I clutched him tighter, as if staying this way could block out everything else. “I watched you die. Holding you in my arms, I watched as you took your last breath. And the pain was so fierce I waited to die of it, Sunshine.” He leaned down, rested his head against my chest, above my heart. I could feel moisture slide onto my skin and I knew it wasn’t sweat from our exertions. “I buried you,” he whispered, his voice catching, “next to our babies and I stayed there, unable to leave. Day after day, I waited for death. And you know what? It’s as if I’m standing at the foot of your grave all over again. Except it’s worse. Right or wrong, I love you. Always have and always will.” I clutched at his shoulders as he raised his head and looked at me. He pulled out of me and took a step back. Cool air kissed my lower body, making me feel as raw and exposed as my emotions. I watched, unable to move, as he righted his clothes. “I can’t do this.” The words were whispered. “I can’t taste you, can’t touch you, knowing you aren’t mine.” I reached for him and he stepped back. “No.” He shook his head. “Goodbye, Hannah.” “Gabe, wait!” He ignored me and I knew it was too late. Swaying, I held on to the car as I watched him walk out the door. “Oh, God,” I moaned, clutching my stomach as sobs shuddered through me. Get it together, Hannah. It was chemistry, nothing more. But I knew the truth. I was a coward. No matter what I learned, felt these past months how could I ever give up on my quest for normality and my parents’ acceptance for something that couldn’t possibly be real? I couldn’t. I cried harder as I realized I would drive away from here in a couple of days and this was probably the last time I’d ever see Gabe.
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***** The day after Gabe left, I called in sick. He had left his undershirt, and I had taken a shower, put it on, and lain in bed all day. That night the dreams didn’t come, nor the next. I cried each morning I woke up, knowing for sure I had lost Gabe—I had lost us. On my last day at the clinic, Robin brought me a gift. A tiny pair of moccasins she said her grandmother made. I held the tiny shoes in my hands, running my hands gently over the beaded starburst pattern, and remembered a similar pair I had made for Keya. Before walking out of the clinic, I thanked Robin for all of her friendship and told her to give her grandmother my love. The next morning I loaded up my car and began the two-hour trip to the airport. Less than thirty minutes into the trip, the knot in the pit in the middle of my stomach grew. My breathing accelerated, I had to concentrate, resist the urge to claw at my fastened seat belt and scream I had made a mistake. I pulled over to the side of the road and turned off the ignition before resting my head against the steering wheel. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I made the call I should have made so very long ago. “Dr. Marcus Edwards.” “Marcus, it’s Hannah.” “Hey, Hannah. Almost time, huh? I’m looking forward to picking you up from the airport in a couple of days.” I laughed, not only because he didn’t realize today was the day he was supposed to be picking me up, but also because suddenly everything was so clear. The possibility of hurting Marcus was the only bad part of this, but in the long run, I knew we’d both be better off. “You don’t have to pick me up from the airport, Marcus.” “Oh, okay. Well, I’ll see you when you get here.”
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“I’m not coming. I love you, but not the way I should love you, Marcus.” He was so quiet I thought he hadn’t heard me. “So this is an ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ call.” “It is me, Marcus. I’m not the one for you. You need someone who will love you so much not even death would separate you.” I had someone I loved that much and I had walked away from him. Tears streamed down my cheeks and the pain in my chest was so intense it nearly took my breath away. I was miles away from where I needed to be. Where my man and my future were. I wiped my face and waited for Marcus to say something, anything. “Hannah, is this about the dreams?” I laughed and it turned into a sob. “No. Yes. Does it really matter? I’m not crazy, Marcus.” He sighed. “I know you aren’t, Hannah. I wish you well.” “I wish you well too, Marcus.” “Goodbye, Hannah.” “Goodbye, Marcus.” I didn’t know what to do next. I had no way of getting in touch with Gabe. I didn’t have his phone number or his address because he always came to me. Doubt set in— what if he didn’t want me anymore? What if it were too late? About to pull back on to the road, I looked up and noticed a tribal police cruiser had pulled up not too far behind my car. As the officer got out of his car, my pulse accelerated. Closing my eyes, I waited for him to come closer. I wanted it to be Gabe. Had I had only imagined the set of the man’s shoulder were familiar? A knock sounded on the window and I clenched my eyes shut tighter, praying when I opened them it would be Gabe standing there. I opened my eyes and looked into Gabe’s.
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He looked at me and stepped back from my vehicle. When it looked as if he were about to turn around and walk back to his own, I scrambled out of the car. “Gabe!” He froze, his back stiff. “There isn’t anything else we have to say to each other, Hannah.” He sounded so defeated it broke my heart. Taking a step closer to him, I laid my hand on his arm, praying he would turn around and look at me. “Yes, there is, Gabe.” He shrugged my hand off. “No, there isn’t. You’re leaving me.” “No,” I whispered. “I’m not. Not ever again.” “You didn’t remember me or us.” It wasn’t an accusation. It was the truth and it would do no good to be ashamed of the fact now. “No, I didn’t.” I admitted. “I just needed you to help make me remember.” “And did I?” Finally, he turned to face me. I nodded, tears welling up in my eyes. “Yes, Mahpiya, you did.” “I’ve missed you so much, Sunshine.” He bent and rested his forehead against mine. I shuddered as his touch warmed me. “I missed you too, hihnaku.”
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About the Author Emma Petersen wrote her first romance in high school after falling in love with historical romances and has been writing ever since. She lives in sunny California with a cool cat named Toussaint and is working through an addiction to shoes.
Emma welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Also by Emma Petersen Master of the Game Seducing St. Nic
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