Walking After Midnight (24 page)

Screech!

Summer’s eyes snapped open. What was that sound? Glancing around, she could see nothing moving outside of the dancing flames and Frankenstein’s rhythmically rising and falling chest. Beyond the small circle of light cast by the fire, the darkness was impenetrable.

The sound must have been made by an animal – a
small
animal, she hoped – somewhere far away in the woods.

Her lids started to droop again.
Why
hadn’t Frankenstein made a pass at her? Most men, given the circumstances, wouldn’t have hesitated. Had anxiety over their predicament sapped his sex drive? Was he too blamed tired after their endless trek?

The thought that he was too much of a gentleman to take advantage of the situation occurred to her, only to be dismissed with an inner hoot.

Frankenstein a gentleman?
She didn’t think so.

Crack!

What was that? Summer’s eyes sprang open again. Once again there was nothing to be seen except the rocks, the fire, and Frankenstein. Muffy was snuggled beneath her chin, fast asleep. Her fur tickled Summer’s nose, but not for anything would she have evicted her sleeping partner. Though the comfort Summer took from the dog’s proximity was largely illusory and she knew it, still it made her feel better to have Muffy near.

If there was a bear prowling nearby, how much help would Muffy be?

At least she would bark, Summer told herself. I hope, honesty compelled her to add.

In her experience, Muffy barked only when trying to make herself clear on the subject of food. Oh, well, maybe she would think a prowling bear was something to eat.

More likely the bear would decide to make a meal of Muffy.

Summer’s lids closed again. Sleep, she ordered herself. Sleep. With the best will in the world, though, sleep would not come.

Was she just not Frankenstein’s type? she wondered. Did he not find her attractive? Men used to fall all over themselves around her.

Used to
being the operative statement.

Despite his joking comment to the contrary, Frankenstein probably did prefer firm-bodied, empty-headed twenty-year-olds.

A thirty-six-year-old woman with crow’s feet and a soft, well-rounded body might not turn him on.

Most men didn’t have the sense to prefer hard-earned wisdom and a measure of life experience to blind, giggly adoration, either.

The bottom line was that most men thought with their dicks. Clearly Frankenstein’s dick was not thinking of her.

Which, Summer told herself fiercely, was just fine with her.

And on that note she finally fell asleep.

Sometime later, a hoarse cry jerked her awake.

Summer sat bolt upright, heart pounding. It was still dark as pitch. Had she been asleep long? She had no idea. All she knew was that she was suddenly scared to death.

Someone had screamed.

Glancing around, she saw that Frankenstein was on his hands and knees, face ashen, staring fixedly at a point just beyond the fire. It didn’t require a genius to deduce that the cry that had awakened her had come from him.

„What is it? What’s wrong?“ Visions of bear attack danced in her head as, dragging the quilt and Muffy with her, she scrambled across the few feet of rocky ground that separated them. Frankenstein didn’t even glance at her as her shoulder and hip butted against his side.

„Look – look there!“ He pointed into the darkness.

Summer looked, but saw nothing except the shadowy images of swaying branches. Like him, she was on all fours. Side by side, they stared at something just beyond the light.

„What? What is it?“ Summer’s heart pounded. Her throat grew dry as she searched the shifting shadows for whatever menaced them. To put such fear into Frankenstein, it had to be a werewolf, at least. Or the bad guys.

„Don’t you – can’t you see her?“ His voice was hoarse, horror-filled.

„Who? See who?“ Her eyes practically popped from her head as she peered in the direction he pointed. Whatever kind of danger lurked just beyond her sight, if it was awful enough to horrify Frankenstein then it was awful enough to horrify her. She was ready, willing, and able to be terrified on faith alone.

„Deedee.“ The name emerged as a croak.

Deedee? Who was Deedee? Gasping with fear as her eyes bored a hole through the night, Summer tried to remember. Wasn’t Deedee the name of the woman who…?

„Deedee’s dead!“ she burst out.

„Don’t you think I know that?“ The look he turned on her was savage. „But she’s here – look! Oh, my God, she’s here!“

He sounded shaken. Glancing at his face rather than the empty night, Summer realized that he must have had a nightmare. Of course, that was the explanation. The only explanation. Come to think of it, he’d had one before.

„Good God, you scared me to death.“ Giddy with relief, she sank back on her haunches.

„Damn it, look at the dog!“

The urgency in his voice brought her up on her hands and knees again. Knowing it was ridiculous, Summer looked – and felt cold chills race down her spine. Muffy stood just inside the ring of light, tail and ears erect, staring at exactly the same spot where Frankenstein’s gaze was fixed.

The same spot where he claimed to see the long-dead Deedee.

Could both of them really be seeing a ghost?

Nonsense! There was no such thing.

If there’s something strange…

In the shadows beyond the fire, something was taking . shape. Summer’s eyes widened. Her breath stopped. Beside her, Frankenstein was as still as stone. Like hers, his attention was riveted on whatever was moving about just beyond the circle of light.

Muffy stood with ears and tail alert, staring.

… in your neighborhood? Who ya gonna call?

Summer’s heart pounded. Was she really, truly, about to see a real, live (or whatever) ghost?

There – she was not mistaken –
a solid shape had materialized just beyond the light and was moving toward them.

Ghostbusters!

Muffy yapped, Summer screamed, Frankenstein yelped, and the thing took flight.

Summer watched, mesmerized, as a trio of white-tailed deer leaped in almost perfect unison over their campsite and fled into the night.

„Jesus.“ Frankenstein was breathing hard. He glanced back at the spot that had so fixated him before. „She’s gone.“

Spell broken, he collapsed on his back, his hands pressed to his face. Summer knelt at his side.

„What do you mean, she’s gone? Of course she’s gone.

She was never there. You idiot, you scared the stuffing out of me.“ Summer punched him in the arm. She had been so frightened that her breathing was still unsteady.

„Hey, that hurt!“ Frankenstein caught both of Summer’s hands when she would have punched him again. „I have a bruise there!“

„It was a bad dream!“

„A bad dream.“ Frankenstein’s hands tightened around hers. She met his eyes and saw that they looked haunted. „You didn’t see anything?“

„I saw some deer.“

„Jesus.“

„You had a nightmare.“

„I think I’m losing my mind.“ He closed his eyes. „You don’t believe in – ghosts?“

Summer shook her head, though of course he couldn’t see. „Don’t be silly.“

„That’s how I feel.“ He groaned. „So why do I keep seeing Deedee?“

„You’ve seen her before?“

„Yeah. Oh, yeah.“ His eyes opened again.

„When?“

The look Frankenstein gave her was shuttered. „Before.“

„When you cried out in your sleep earlier, for instance?“

„Yeah.“

„Then it was a bad dream. Just like tonight was a bad dream. What you have to ask yourself is, what brought it on?“

Frankenstein laughed, sounding unamused. „That part I think I’ve managed to figure out.“

„Oh, yeah?“

„Yeah.“

Summer waited, but he didn’t seem inclined to be more forthcoming. „So tell me.“

„Rosencrans, believe me, you don’t want to know.“

„Yes, I do.“

There was a sudden glint in his eyes.
„Sure?“

„Sure.“

„Positive?“

„Would you quit being ridiculous and tell me?“

„Okay. Remember, you asked for it.“ His hands shifted to her wrists, shackling her. „I only see Deedee when I get a hard-on.“

„What?“ Summer couldn’t believe her ears.

„You heard me. And I only get a hard-on when I think about making it with you.“

Summer tried to snatch her hands away. He hung on. No wonder he was gripping her wrists so tightly! He was worried about being punched again! And with good reason! „You no-good, lying, aggravating son of a…“

„I’m telling God’s own truth,“ he said, and moved one of her clenched fists down to rest atop his fly to prove it.

Summer went suddenly very still. Beneath the tight, zipped-up denim, the rock-hard bulge was unmistakable.

„See?“ he asked softly. And he wasn’t laughing.

Summer met his gaze and caught her breath. The passion that burned for her in those deadly black eyes was real.

„Frankenstein – “

„I think you’d better call me Steve,“ he said with a suggestion of a laugh, and drew her down into his arms.

Summer went willingly, lying across his chest as his arms slid around her back. Her own arms crept around his neck.

„Steve,“ she breathed, watching his eyes.

They glinted at her.

„That’s better,“ he said, and rolled over with her, so that she was lying on her back and he was leaning above her, propped on his elbows. Hands on his shoulders, Summer looked up into that bruised, battered, decidedly unhandsome face, and felt her insides turn to jelly. Then Steve lowered his head and kissed her.

24

This time the earth moved. Bells rang. Stars exploded in Summer’s head. His mouth was hard and hot and, surprisingly, very gentle. His tongue touched her lips, slid between her parted teeth, and claimed her mouth. A warm, strong hand found her left breast, closing over it through the thin nylon. Summer’s senses swam.

Shaking, she kissed him back with abandon, eyes closed, arms locked around his neck. When his hands parted the ravaged edges of her blouse to stroke her bare breasts, Summer arched her back to offer him greater access. When his mouth left hers to slide down her throat and close over one pebble-hard nipple, Summer clutched the back of his head, pulling him closer as he switched his attention from one eager nipple to the other.

Never in her life had she felt passion like this.

Impatient with his clothes, her hands wormed under his sweatshirt and muscle shirt to clutch his back. His skin was warm, smooth. The muscles beneath were strong. Summer stroked those hard contours, glorying in his strength. Her palms slid down along his spine to burrow beneath the waistband of his cutoffs.

„Jesus.“ Frankenstein – Steve – pulled away, sitting up suddenly and yanking both shirts over his head in a single fluid movement. Summer looked at his broad shoulders, at the,wide expanse of his chest with its wedge of curly black hair, at the hollow of his throat and his flat male nipples and the neat circle of his navel spilling over the waistband of his shorts, and felt her mouth go dry. She wanted him. Oh, how she wanted him!

He fumbled with the metal button that fastened his shorts. Brushing his hands aside, Summer freed it herself. Then she found the metal tab of his zipper and pulled it down.

Hiding coyly beneath the white cotton of his Jockey shorts, the burgeoning evidence of his desire for her thrust through the open V of the zipper.

Summer caught her breath, and ran her forefinger down the length of the bulge.

„Rosencrans, you’re blowing my mind,“ he said. Then, before she could even think about reminding him that under the circumstances her name was Summer, for heaven’s sake, he was on top of her, his mouth on hers, his hands between them fumbling for the fastening of her slacks.

There was no fastening. The cheap polyester pants had an elastic waist. Discovering that, he moved on. His hand slid down inside her pants, over her soft stomach to the nest of hair between her legs. Summer forgot to breathe as he caressed her with knowing fingers.

He found the small nub that ached for his attention, and proceeded to caress it until she was almost mindless. She was spiraling higher and higher…

All at once he froze. His fingers stilled at their task. His body, which had been pressing rhythmically against hers, went rigid. Summer whimpered, writhed, thrust herself pleadingly against his hand, begging him without words to continue. He didn’t move.

Her eyes opened. He was not looking at her. With his hand down her pants and his arm around her back and her body quaking beneath him, pantingly available for his delectation, his head was raised and he was staring off into the dark.