automatically change beneath the moon. They had a choice - except on the night of the full moon. Those nights were busy for me and mine.
"We switched off," Damien continued. "Neither one of us liked to work the same shift all the time."
Interesting. Most people preferred to stick to a schedule. I know I did.
"Now what'll you do?" I asked.
"Hire someone new. Maybe Cowboy. He's in here all the time anyway."
I saw an opportunity and I took it. "Cowboy's from here?"
Damien shot me a suspicious glance. "No one's from here. Except some of the Indians."
"No one?"
"Not that I know of. People who are born here can't wait to get out. People who visit can't wait to move in." He shook his head. "Go figure."
"Where's Cowboy from?"
"Cleveland?" He shrugged.
I waited for him to laugh. From his expression, I'd be waiting until the next millennium.
"You don't know?"
"I don't ask. One thing you learn in my profession: Listening is OK. Questions aren't."
Too bad questions were all I had.
"What do I owe you for the groceries?"
"Nothing."
"Come on. Let me pay you."
He shook his head. I could tell he wasn't going to accept money from me. Feeling awkward, beholden, I muttered, "It was very nice of you."
He made a derisive sound and flicked the end of his cigarette into the dirt. "I don't do nice."
Why did that sound both lewd and rude?
He ground the dying embers into dust with his black sneaker, then lifted his eyes to mine. My breath felt trapped in my chest. I wanted to run, and I wanted to stay. He both confused and fascinated me.
What was it about Damien that I found so attractive? He was nothing like Jimmy Renquist. Jimmy had been tall, broad, blond. A laughing, sunny boy who never got to be a man.
Damien was dark, slim, haunted. He rarely smiled; I couldn't imagine his laughter. The shadows in his eyes made him seem as old as some of the trees that surrounded this place.
I was drawn to those shadows, captivated by the darkness I sensed in him. It called to the darkness in me.
The air held a night chill, but I wasn't cold. Instead, my skin burned wherever his gaze touched.
"I didn't buy you groceries to be nice," he continued. "I wanted you to owe me."
"How much?" My voice was barely a whisper.
"I don't want money."
"What then?"
He moved toward me and I tensed, tempted again to flee. The shadows were gone from his eyes, chased away by the heat. He was no longer calm and cool but wired, his steps both hurried and determined.
I held my ground. I'd faced scarier things than him, and in truth, I hadn't been this aroused in a lifetime.
He stopped, so close I had to bend my neck to see his face. "I wanted you to owe me," he repeated. "I wanted you to give me this."
His mouth crushed mine in an openmouthed kiss. There was no giving involved. He took the kiss as he took my tongue and tasted.
I could have gotten away. Getting away was what I did. If I'd decided I didn't want this, Damien Fitzgerald would have been lying on the ground writhing in an instant. As it was, I was writhing, because I wanted so much more than a kiss.
The flavor of tobacco reminded me of a time when insanity had ruled me, as it ruled me now. My fingers slipped between the open buttons of his shirt and found their way across the silky expanse of his chest.
His muscles rippled, coming alive beneath my hands. I nipped his lip, then soothed the hurt with my tongue. Without warning he spun me around, pressed my back against the wall of the shed, and laid his body against the length of mine.
I was short - he wasn't tall; still his erection pulsed in a much higher location than I would have liked.
With a groan, he lifted me, wrapping my legs around his waist, and suddenly everything fit together just fine.
He was hard, hot; the friction of our clothes only drove me faster toward the madness. It had been so long. I was on the verge of orgasm in seconds.
His palm cupped my neck, shifted my head. He gentled the kiss even as his fingers drifted lower, across my collarbone and the slight swell of my breasts.
He slipped my tank top from my shoulder. Cool night air bathed my skin. I shuddered as my breasts tingled in reaction, the nipples tightening, even before he touched me.