Taken By The Bull

 Everyone has secrets. It’s normal. It’s okay.” Was she trying to tell him that… or herself?

“I guess, that’s true.” She felt a kiss, light against the back of her neck. “But I get to wondering, just what you think of me, now. What you’ll do next.”

She opened her mouth to reply; but didn’t know what the hell she was about to say. I don’t know what to do, either. She drew a single, shuddering breath; and then shifted position, turning around in his arms to face him. “What do you mean, Steve?”

The moonlight was strong enough that she could see him smile, could even see the color of his eyes; blue again, of course. “It seems like, you can deal with me having an ex that won’t quit. You can deal with me having a brother who can be a damned idiot at times. You can even deal with me being the sort of guy that you can’t eat a burger with.” There was no hint of insincerity in his low, soft voice; only honesty and plainness, his heart offered up with the trusting nature of a child, in the hope that she would keep it safe. “But, can you deal with-”

Her lips were on his before he could complete the sentence; it was the only way she could think of to express that fragile, free-falling feeling that surged through her at the sound of his words. “Yes,” she whispered between kisses, “Yes, yes, of course.”

She felt him draw a single deep breath; and then he returned her kiss with a furious intensity, hands running up her body, cupping her face. The feeling she couldn’t put words to broke apart, like fine crystal; and as her hands laced through his hair and she drank in his scent she hated herself, hated herself for ever thinking ill of him – for even thinking about sharing these secrets with the world.

Then he was up on his knees, a great dark shape over her, arms slipping beneath the small of her back and her knees; and just as she thought he was about to draw her closer he instead lifted her, his feet on the floor and the sheet slipping away as he carried her out of the bedroom and down the hall.

Momentarily speechless, she curled her arms and legs around him, her cheek against his; but Staci Wilder was never quiet for long. “You’re carrying me out of the bedroom?” Her words sounded almost chiding – but then she laughed, unable to help herself. “That’s not how it’s done!”

“Isn’t it?” His voice rumbled, gently amused. “Who says?”

“Movies! Television!” She caught a glimpse of the two of them in the mirror that stood upright near the top of the stairs as he started the descent, taking her with him; the over-sized shirt of his that she was wearing had ridden up and the moonlight gleamed against her bare flesh.

“You should know better’n most,” he replied as they reached the foot of the stairs. “Not to take everything you see on a TV screen too seriously.”

“Well, the least you can do is tell me where we’re-” His hand was on the latch that held the front door of the ranch house closed, sliding it back and opening the door before the words were even out of her mouth. “-Oh! Outside?”

“I’m a creature of the earth and sky,” he told her; no trace of arrogance in the plainly-stated facts. “And that’s where I want to be, right now.”

You should have asked… Staci thought automatically; but that thought was soon dispelled as she realized – she was glad he hadn’t asked. He was always so courteous, so concerned for others – that even after everything she had learned about him, she didn’t know what it was that he really wanted, what stirred his passions. Well; now, she could find out.

The air outside was pleasantly cool on her skin, a welcome reprieve from the summer heat. All of the ranch was lit with the soft light from the full moon high above, as resplendent as a queen with a consort of stars.

The eerie beauty of that night-time sky and the stillness of the land left Staci speechless; this wasn’t like Jackson. Nothing like the city where she had lived all her life, where the coming of night meant only that the streets grew more dangerous, and the streetlamps stole away all the starlight.

He laid her down in the lush grass that grew between the small grove of trees that sheltered the East sound of the house; soft as a blanket over the ground below, and rich with the scent of growth. And something else, too; a fragrance that reminded her of summers at the beach. The source was impossible to miss, and she stared, transfixed, at the wide white flowers that bloomed on the vines that covered the trees from root to branch, rounded and pearl-white.

“What are those?” she breathed, reaching out to touch one; the petals were soft as satin, delicate and breakable.

“Moon flowers,” he said. “They only bloom at night.”

He lay down beside her, his body heat almost palpable in the cool evening. She shifted in closer to him, nestled against his chest. Even out here, in the open with no roof above and no walls around – he made her feel safe. “It’s beautiful out here,” she told him. “So beautiful.”

He ran his hand slowly up the curve of her hip and waist, pushing the fabric of the shirt up with it. As she lifted her chin to look into his face he kissed her, and the next few moments became a blur of hands and lips and deep-drawn breaths, each second sharp and cracking and distinct; so much so that it left no room to recall the moments that came before, or to wonder what would come next. All that mattered was his hands on her body, her hands on his, the sounds that escaped his lips answered in turn by her own.

The only thing that wasn’t perfect were the layers that separated them, that gathered and bunched and formed a barrier to the senses. After a moment she shifted away, breaking the kiss as she pulled the shirt up and over her head in a single motion, casting it blithely aside. Her hands moved to the waistband of his underwear, tugging on it – but he caught both her hands in his and ran his eyes up her body, as if committing every detail to memory. “You’re so beautiful. Do you know that?”

“I’m not.” She wriggled in embarrassment, the muscles of her shoulders and thighs flexing as she drew her limbs in closer to her body. “I need to drop a few pounds, maybe get to the gym and tone up or something – I’ve always had a-” a memory flashed up; Dawn’s face, sneering as she delivered her insult. “-A bit of a pudgy ass.”

Steve sighed, shaking his head slowly. “Every time I think I get women figured out, they go and say something that doesn’t make a lick of sense – and leave me wondering if I’ll ever make heads or tails of any of you.”

She poked him lightly in the chest. “Men!” She retorted. “Always thinking that a woman doesn’t feel complete unless he tells her she’s perfect, and is fool enough to believe it.”

“Well,” he said, shrugging lightly, “I’m fool enough to believe it.”

Staci felt her cheeks flush at that, and didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t the kind of person who ever felt too comfortable receiving compliments about how she looked; or maybe, she didn’t feel comfortable with how good it made her feel.

Above, the moon watched impassively, its silver eye unblinking as it trained itself upon the earth; and the flowers were blooming, the branches of the trees rustling softly in the gathering breeze.