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Spirit Flight, Page 3

Jory Strong


  The connection she felt to him was so intense that her release seemed ripped from the deepest part of her. A place that had never responded to another man like it responded to Ukiah. A place sealed closed until he came into her life. And his frenzied pistoning and the hot splash of his semen only made her feel more complete.

  He rose from the pool with her in his arms. She smiled against his throat. "Despite your having to carry me here when you found me, I can walk now."

  "I enjoy carrying you." He took her into the other room, placed her on the hides so she was seated with her back to the fire, then retrieved a comb and knelt behind her.

  He gently untangled her hair, the teeth of the comb lightly scraping over her back. She closed her eyes on a sigh of pleasure.

  "It was storming." A tremor went through her. If he hadn't come, if he hadn't found her…

  "It's still storming outside."

  She listened intently but heard nothing. Her heart beat a little harder, a little faster. She only remembered seeing the thunderbird. "Was I hallucinating when you got to me?"

  He hesitated, a barely imperceptible pause. "Yes."

  She lost her nerve, regained it when he leaned forward and one of his braids brushed against her arm. "Before I blacked out I imagined a thunderbird swooping down on me. He had eyes like yours." She stroked a bright feather with its bands of red, white and black, its subtle splashes of blue and yellow. "He had feathers that looked like this one."

  Ukiah stopped combing her hair. He nuzzled her ear then gave the lobe a quick suck. "You're on Thunderbird land. Hohoq is another name for the thunderbird."

  She let herself be distracted by his nearness and thoughts of the totem poles she'd passed. Did it really matter whether she'd seen Ukiah and imposed a thunderbird form on him?

  "Do you know anything about the totem poles?"

  Ukiah sucked her earlobe again and she murmured appreciatively. His hand cupped and fondled her breast, sending a rush of arousal to coat her inner thighs. "The poles near the No Trespassing signs?"

  She laughed softly. "Yes, those."

  He gently bit her neck. "I made them."

  She tried to turn but the hand on her breast made it impossible. "They're beautiful. Is that what you do for a living?"

  "I carve in the winter, as a hobby."

  "Do you sell your work?"

  "Personally? Not often." He nibbled the side of her neck then pressed a kiss to her skin and resumed combing her hair. "But my family members manage to sneak some of my work from the lodge and offer it for sale in town."

  Marisa turned her head, grimaced as the comb snagged and pulled her hair. "They sneak away with totem poles?"

  He laughed. "Most of my carvings are small enough to fit on shelves. Animals and birds mostly, sometimes reptiles and fish."

  "I'd like to see them," she said, ache suddenly centering in her chest. When the storm ended, they'd leave the cave. When they left the cave, it'd be to return to everyday life. And this—

  "Marisa," he said, tenderness in his voice, as if sensing where her thoughts were heading. He set the comb down and pulled her back against his chest. Kissed along her shoulder. "I found you and I intend to keep you."

  He cupped her mound, pouring heat into the place between her thighs. His fingers slid into her and her channel clenched on them in needy desperation.

  Pressing his palm against her clit, he moved his hand in slow circles, sending pleasure pulsing through her, so much pleasure. She whimpered and moaned and soaked him with her arousal.

  He made a guttural sound and leaned into her, used his weight against her back to force her forward onto her hands and knees. And then onto her elbows and knees with her buttocks raised, her thighs spread to reveal her swollen and wet pussy.

  She shivered at how vulnerable the position made her feel. But that vulnerability made her lower lips grow more flushed and her clit strain, erect and full, the hood pulled back, desperate for his attention.

  "You're beautiful, Marisa," Ukiah whispered, kissing the base of her spine, his fingers gliding over her slick folds, circling her clit and making her cry out.

  She pressed into his hand, rubbed herself on his tormenting fingers, her breath coming in short pants and accompanied by low moans. "Please," she begged, "please," and his touch became more dominant, more aggressive.

  A primal energy filled the cave. It felt as though a huge presence loomed behind her. His cock slammed home in a rough thrust of ownership.

  His hands gripped her hips and held her in position as he thrust. And the force of him plunging in and out of her drove the breath from her lungs in screams that signaled a mix of pleasure and pain.

  Tears formed in her eyes and the shadows dancing on the wall in front of her blurred and blended. They took the shape of a thunderbird with its wings outspread, flapping in time to Ukiah's thrusts, its chest swelling as if with pleasure. Ukiah's fingers tangled in her hair to prevent her from looking away, though she was held mesmerized.

  "Mine," he said, voice harsh like thunder, jagged like lightning, raw and possessive.

  He thrust again and orgasm rolled over her as his hot release filled her channel and the giant shadow of the thunderbird rushed forward, taking her with it into primordial darkness.

  Ukiah panted and shivered above Marisa's limp form, his cock still buried in her heated depths, his body weak even as the thunderbird's triumphant exaltation roared through him. She was pregnant now. With his child. With the thunderbird's.

  If they'd met under different circumstances he would have waited. Would have married her first and moved her into the lodge which served as both his house and his source of income. He would have let her accustom herself to her new life slowly.

  But the choice hadn't been his to make. He walked in the spirit world now. This body was a magical manifestation restricted to the cave, a duplicate to house thunderbird essence. His true physical form lay miles away on a pallet in a sweat building behind his home.

  He pulled from Marisa's body. A masculine smile of satisfaction formed with her mumbled protest and move to press her skin to his.

  Gathering her hair, he wove it into a thick braid, then lay down next to her, covering them with a fur, her back to his chest, his arms holding her to him. Possessive and protective at the same time.

  She'd be happy in his care. She'd embrace the changes to come, and thrill at what it would mean for her art.

  Tomorrow he'd reveal himself as Thunderbird. Tomorrow he'd deal with her brother.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 4

  Marisa woke cocooned in warmth. Ukiah.

  Her fingers ached to touch him, to trace eyebrows and nose and lips, to explore line and shadow, to glide over muscle and commit every inch of him to sensual memory and then translate the memory onto paper and canvas.

  She wanted to wake him, assure herself he was real and not a fantasy she'd conjured up in a hallucination. She wanted to make love and afterward lie content in each other's arms, intermixing conversation with kisses.

  Her bladder insisted on relief.

  She got up. But a quick check of the cave revealed there was no natural opening to serve as a bathroom.

  Heat climbed into her face with thoughts of squatting in a corner. Maybe outside?

  She moved to where her clothes hung on a wooden peg. Reaching for her shirt, a chill swept across her naked back.

  Where were his clothes? Not that she wouldn't forever savor the first sight of him wearing nothing but a loincloth, but it was cold outside and she didn't think he'd been out hiking in only a strip of suede.

  Her heart tripped into a faster beat.

  This is real. I'm not out in the storm, lying on the ground and slowly dying.

  She put on the shirt stiff with dried mud and blood. And then the jeans.

  Her heart thumped harder, faster.

  Maybe Ukiah had been out hiking in just a loincloth. Maybe it was a test of endurance for him, or some kind of purification ritu
al.

  Maybe she hadn't been as badly injured as she'd thought.

  The pulse in her throat pounded in time to her rational mind saying, lie, lie, lie.

  She'd been broken. She'd returned to consciousness in the cave with the sound of drumbeats and masculine words.

  A healing ceremony? He'd said she was on thunderbird lands.

  Hadn't she thought there was a mystical quality to this area when she'd first arrived?

  She looked at the fire. How could something so small put out so much light and heat and last so long? How could it battle so successfully with the cold air that had to be coming in through the cave's opening?

  Then again, what did she actually know about campfires? Until this trip she'd had zero experience with camping that didn't involve an RV or a cozy cabin.

  She put her shoes on and tied the dirt-encrusted laces. With one last glance at Ukiah, she walked into the shallow anteroom and stopped just beyond the cave's mouth.

  Deep gray clouds filled the sky. Cold, wet air hit her face—the force and sting of it making her want to retreat. She shivered, looked down into the canyon and for an instant was scrambling, sliding, falling.

  Her chest tightened. Her throat locked and throbbed. Sweat trickled down her sides.

  She glanced up and could see the canyon rim. It wasn't too far away. The climb didn't look too hard.

  I can do this. I need to do this.

  She couldn't let fear paralyze her. She was okay. She would be okay.

  She reached for an exposed root and placed her foot on a small cluster of rock. Listened for the sound of motorcycle engines or voices.

  All clear.

  The climb got steeper, harder. It'd looked deceptively easy from below.

  How had Ukiah gotten her to the cave?

  She felt a fluttering in her chest. His climbing down with her didn't seem possible, especially during a furious storm.

  Reaching the top, she paused, listened again to make sure Ethan or Kaitlyn weren't nearby, then pulled herself over, the muscles in her arms burning.

  The wind grew stronger. Standing, she looked down the face of the mountain and was completely overwhelmed by the miracle she'd been given. Not just her life. But Ukiah's presence in it.

  Drawing a deep breath, she forced herself to look for the place where she'd lain broken.

  There it is.

  Would they come back to make sure she was dead? Or were they so confident that they'd already reported her missing?

  The second seemed more likely. She rubbed her arms, the chill of Kaitlyn's final wave causing the rise of goose bumps.

  She walked a short distance, found shelter from the brisk wind so she could relieve the pressure on her bladder. And then like a fatal attraction, returned to the spot where Kaitlyn had stopped the bike.

  Marisa shuddered. Her stomach heaved. Her skin felt coated by ice.

  She wrapped her arms around herself, sorry now that she hadn't woken Ukiah and suggested they both leave the cave. She couldn't climb back to him.

  The wind picked up. The sky darkened and roiled as if attuned to her fear and distress. The gray clouds churned, became charcoal black as thunder sounded an ominous warning.

  It was only a matter of time before Ukiah woke and noticed she was missing. He'd come looking for her. But in the meantime she needed shelter and the grove of trees in the distance was her best hope.

  A rumble of thunder greeted her decision and she glanced at the sky. Shivered at how angry it now looked. Its dark violence filled her mind and made her hurry along the path near the canyon rim.

  The trail narrowed. Brush scraped her legs and sides. She angled toward the wider path she'd been running on the day before. Reaching it, she saw motorcycle tracks.

  Her heart skipped and beat erratically. The tracks looked fresh. But how fresh?

  Did Ethan and Kaitlyn know she'd survived? Is that why the tracks continued downward, in the direction of the trees rather than upward toward the place they'd camped.

  Uneasiness squeezed her chest, timed to another roll of thunder. What if she was wrong, and they'd wanted to make sure before notifying the authorities and claiming she was missing?

  She should have woken Ukiah instead of leaving. She should have screwed up the courage and climbed back to the cave.

  Lightning flickered across the sky. A crack of thunder made her flinch.

  Two people emerged from the strand of trees she'd been heading for. "Marisa!" Ethan called, his words whipping past her, carried by the wind.

  She turned and ran. An instant later motorcycle engines roared to life.

  Fear nearly choked her. Not just at the prospect of them catching her, but of them also killing Ukiah if he emerged from the cave.

  She stumbled and went to her knees. The wind grew in intensity, making it impossible for her to stand.

  The dark clouds in front of her became a boiling, angry mass, spitting rain. A lightning strike sizzled through the air, so close to her that she felt its energy across her skin.

  A scream sounded behind her. High and feminine. Abruptly ended.

  Another strike sizzled against her skin. A third split into two, passing on either side of her.

  The engine sounds died.

  A thunderbird emerged from the cloud and Marisa froze, rational mind and knowing heart battling, awe and disbelief warring with her soul's certainty that the mythical creature in front of her was Ukiah.

  He swooped toward her and she felt only a rush of pleasure, an answering cry in her chest, a desire to join him in flight. For a split second she thought he would pick her up with talons as black as his eyes, but at the last instant he swung upward.

  She turned to watch him, her breath catching at the sight of the two motorcycles lying bent and twisted and smoldering on the path, the two bodies next to them.

  Hesitantly she walked toward them. Her emotions volatile, ever changing. Dread and relief mixed with sadness.

  She got to Kaitlyn first. Shuddered when she saw dead eyes staring vacantly at the sky, the charred place where a lightning bolt had struck.

  Moving to Ethan, she knelt, tears coming despite everything. He moaned and she jerked. Her hand flew to his throat.

  She felt a pulse beating there. Alive. He was still alive and she wasn't sorry.

  She wouldn't forgive him or allow him into her life again. She wouldn't let him get away with what he'd done. But he was her brother and she was glad he wasn't dead.

  She stood and looked around, expecting to see Ukiah. But instead there was only the sense that he was watching from deep in the clouds, hovering close but unseen to ensure her safety.

  The wind pushed against her, urging her to leave, to move on, toward the grove of trees and down the mountain. The motorcycles were useless and there was nothing she could do for Ethan other than get help.

  She ran. Pacing herself this time. The wind against her back aiding her.

  It felt like she ran for hours, though she had no idea how long it took to get to Hohoq. It seemed like a lifetime ago when she and Ethan and Kaitlyn had stopped there for lunch. Sat at the table, lingering, enjoying themselves, laughing and teasing so that others smiled with them.

  Marisa closed the door on those memories and entered the first place she came to. Hohoq General Store.

  Her attention was immediately drawn to the small, delicately carved birds and animals, then the man behind the counter, a silver-haired version of Ukiah though this man's hair was short.

  His eyes widened, he asked, "Which one of the boys do you belong to?"

  "Let me handle this, Father," another man said, stepping from behind a row of shelves and making Marisa's heart rush to her throat.

  She hurled herself into his arms and hugged him tight. He laughed softly and gently stroked her back. "My brother misplace you?"

  Pulling away from him, she saw the sheriff's star on his chest, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. He was older than Ukiah. "I need your help."

&nb
sp; She told him what'd happened, trying to describe where she'd come from, parts of her story probably incoherent, but he got the gist. "I'll take a crew up the trail."

  His father moved around from behind the counter and flipped the open sign in the store's window to closed. "I'll take Marisa to Ukiah."

  Marisa sagged with relief and let herself be led to a battered black Jeep with streaks of mud sprayed along its side. I'm not crazy. It happened. All of if happened.

  She'd told them a thunderbird had saved her life. She'd told them a thunderbird had killed Kaitlyn and injured Ethan. She'd told them Ukiah was a thunderbird and they hadn't looked at her as if she was crazy.

  Even now, Ukiah's father wasn't glancing at her warily. He wasn't trying to run her out of town. He was taking her to his son.

  They passed a handcrafted sign for the Thunderbird Lodge. It startled a laugh out of her and Ukiah's father chuckled. "Sometimes it's easiest to hide out in the open."

  Questions formed. So many questions. They rounded a curve and a beautiful wooden lodge came into view.

  The front door opened and Ukiah stepped out onto the porch, dressed in jeans and a blue flannel shirt.

  Her heart swelled and raced. He was everything she wanted in a man.

  The Jeep stopped but Ukiah remained on the porch, his face expressionless. He crossed his arms over his chest and ache spasmed through her chest and knotted in her throat.

  Was his claim that she was his a lie? That he'd found her and he intended to keep her, just the great sex talking?

  His father reached over and clasped her hand. He gave it a gentle squeeze. "Go on. Whatever differences exist between the two of you, they'll work themselves out. You're the wife of his soul."

  * * * * *

  Chapter 5

  Ukiah remained on the porch, stoic and unmoving. Making her close the distance between them, each step adding to the suffocating ache in her chest.

  She longed for his smile and to have his arms around her, for the solid feel of his chest and the rub of his cheek to hers, for his steady strength and the connection she'd come to crave.