Night Walker's Woman Ch. 14

She watched as Rex took careful steps towards her. She smiled, thinking how like the man who had worked with skittish animals for so long. Her throat tightened, and she brushed away the tears that had marred her vision.

He stopped just a couple of inches in front of her. "How long?" He reiterated his question.

She inhaled as she prepared to face her future, "Always." She lifted her hand and allowed it to come to rest over his thudding heart. She felt him stiffen, knew that he was holding tightly to his self-control. For her sake. He always thought of her first. Her and Angel.

"I have drifted into your mind a lot these past few days. When you were focused on other things," she admitted with a blush.

He nodded and lifted her hand, bringing it to his lips, he pressed a tender kiss in the center of her palm. "You needed to know what I was thinking, what I felt." It was a statement, not a question, and Jaycee nodded her head slowly.

"And?"

She allowed her fingers to caress the lines that bracketed his mouth. Rex closed his eyes and turned his head slightly, capturing her finger between his lips, drawing it softly within his mouth and suckling. His tongue circled the tip, and her nipples pebbled within the cursed confines of her bra.

"Did I pass your test, Nʉ Sʉmʉ?"

"It was no test, Rex," she denied.

"Wasn't it, sweetheart? Didn't you need to know that this was real?"

She chuckled as she admitted, "Perhaps you're right. Maybe you know me better than I know myself."

He stepped forward, just inches, but enough to close the distance between them. Jaycee sighed and forced herself to release the tension that automatically tightened each muscle in her body. Fight, flight, or freeze response, as Elizabeth had explained, was natural for abuse victims.

Survivors, she reminded herself. She was an abuse survivor. Or she was determined to become one. She was not going to allow Sean this final victory. Was not going to let him control her in death as he had in life.

Therapy had been hard. It was intensely challenging to take experiences out of that box at the back of her remind where she had shoved them all. To pull them out, scrutinize them, turning them over and over from all angles.

It was difficult for her to admit the depths of abuse even to herself, especially to herself. She had crafted this image of herself in her mind of a strong, independent woman. A professional, an attorney, someone that others went to for help. Not someone who needed assistance, certainly not a victim.

Her intelligence and strength had been Sean's greatest weapons. He had used those very things to isolate her. To push her to do things that made her uncomfortable. Testing her boundaries, exploring herself had been how Sean had challenged her to do so many things that were not what she wanted.

And if she dared to question him or to deny him anything he wanted, then he held the ultimate weapon - he withdrew his support and approval. That was all it had taken to control and manipulate her for over a decade.

That little girl had craved belonging so profoundly that the woman had been whored and beaten. Sean could call it swinging and BDSM all he wanted, but without her true consent, it could never be those things.

Yes, she had known some from whom those things held not just pleasure but were a part of their identity. But she knew that she was not the only one who had been badgered and bullied into doing things that she would have never done otherwise. That was the dark side of those things. The part that no one wanted to admit existed.

Now, she had a choice to make. She could continue to let her past control her. She could wallow in self-doubts, recriminations of all the things she should have been strong enough to say and do. She knew that it could take years, a lifetime, of therapy to unpack that box in the corner of her mind.

Or she could move on. Angel had. It had astounded her how wholly and quickly her daughter had grasped the situation. 'Daddy made choices. I don't have to make the same ones.' It was indeed that simple for her child. And it was — truly that simple.

The past, her past lay over the edge of that cliff. She had spent two weeks unpacking it. She had felt the hurt, shame, pain, and filth of it all. She had even come to understand how Sean had manipulated her so easily. Why he had chosen her to begin with.

There was only one piece missing to the puzzle that was her life. And that piece did not lay at the bottom of that cliff. She had no idea where it lay. She was not even confident she would ever find the answers she sought. But she had come to the decision she needed to try.

"I want to find my parents, Rex."

He only nodded, "Of course, Nʉ Sʉmʉ. Anything you need."

She knew he meant that, too. She had found herself slipping into his mind so much over the past few days. At first, she had not even realized she was doing it. As the initial shock and pain of Sean's death wore off, as her therapy began to explore things she had wanted so much to forget, to pretend did not even happen, she had found herself wondering what this man would think of her, how he would feel about it all.

Without even thinking, her mind had brushed his that first time as he and Grandfather worked with Angel and her pony. What she discovered had brought tears to her eyes. Genuine love and concern for her daughter. It was all that little girl inside of her had ever dreamt of.

Was it any wonder that Angel found it so easy to brush her father's rejection and death aside? Her daughter knew what she had not - love, security, and stability.

When she had come here that night, she had just felt his presence, known that he was near. She had expected him to approach her as he had that first night. But he had not. Instead, he merely hid among the trees, observing her, protecting her. She had not dared delve deeper then, afraid that he would sense her presence.

But over the coming days, she became bolder. She knew that she could erect barriers to keep him from slipping into her mind. But she had not needed to. And that said something to her as well. It was not that Rex did not want to know her thoughts and feelings, but that he wanted her to share those with him freely. And until she was ready, he was determined not to take that which she would not give.

She had known then. Known that this man truly did love her. How could she not? Every time that she had slipped into his mind, whether by choice or accidentally, Rex's concern was for her and Angel. Not once had she caught a glimpse of the disapproval or censure, even the slightest hint that he held her culpable.

"Because you are not, Nʉ Sʉmʉ. Why can you not understand as Angel does? The only person responsible for his choices is Sean Riley."

She shook her head, "But if I had..."

"You might be dead, too. Angel and her gifts in the hands of a monster. And me condemned to a living death, eventually forced to decide to kill myself or become like him." He brushed a strand of hair back from her face, "You did what you could. You left. And you kept yourself and Angel safe. That is what is important."

He drew her into his strong arms. It was like coming home. It was home. He was home. He and Angel. Grandfather and this place. It was the home that she had been seeking her whole life, and nothing could ever change that. Not Sean's death or the years of existence that would always be that box in the corner. Not whatever or even if she never found her birth mother or father. This was what mattered. He was what mattered.

She could hear his heart beating steadily just beneath her cheek. It reassured her as nothing else could. It was the sweetest music that she had fallen asleep to each night for the past couple of weeks. "Make love to me, Rex."

***

Those were the words that Rex wanted to hear most. They had been for days. Words that he had, in his weakest moments, feared would never come.

His hands brushed tenderly down her arms to her fingertips and back again, as if to spread warmth or reassure. "Are you sure, Jaycee?"

His mind reached for hers and was relieved to find no doubts. He wished that teleportation was among the powers of a skinwalker. But since it wasn't, he began to unbutton his shirt; they could get back to the ranch quicker as his other.

Jaycee's trembling fingers joined his in the battle of the buttons. Her warm hands slipped beneath the soft chambray and brushed the offending material aside. He allowed it to drop where it would. He would worry about retrieving the damned thing tomorrow. Or maybe the next day. He was not sure when he would let his mate out of their bed.

Her fingers were already working the thick metal clasp of his belt. It was taking too long, but he focused on kicking off his boots while she was victorious over both the buckle and the zipper of his jeans. Her hands were as hot as branding irons on the skin of hips as she pushed the jeans aside. He stepped out of them and pressed a sweet kiss on her lips.

"Step back, Nʉ Sʉmʉ, so that I can transform."

"No, Rex."

He stared at her in confusion as her dulcet words filled his mind, 'Here, Rex. Take me here.' He shook his head, partly in denial and partly in confusion.

Her lips were practically pressed to his as she spoke aloud this time, "This is going to be our home. For the rest of our lives. I don't want the memories of that day to haunt me for years. I don't want to have to avoid this place."

Her fingers traced the lines about his mouth, "Make new ones with me. Fill my head with ones that will make me blush; make me smile. Make this place, all of this ranch, ours again."

He heard the others, too. The unspoken ones, 'Make me yours again. Completely yours.'

He nodded slowly. While it was not something that would have occurred to him, he could see her point. They had not discussed what would come next - for any of them. But Grandfather had been pressing as never before for Rex to commit to this place.

He no longer had the job that he had once loved. Besides, his salary would not have been enough to support his new family the way he wanted. And his small apartment in Houston was definitely not family-friendly. It would be years, if ever, before Jaycee might reclaim her ranch.

Perhaps most importantly, he knew and understood to the depths of his soul, how much their daughter needed the loving, but firm guidance of his grandfather. He remembered well those years that his mother had denied him this place and the old man's presence. They could not do that to the child, especially not now.

He felt incredibly stupid, like some teenage boy tangled up inside, pleading with his first girlfriend. "Are you sure, Jaycee?" he asked again.

"Yes," the single word was breathed across his lips, a heartbeat before hers captured them.

Need erupted like a volcano, molten lava coursing through his veins. It felt as if the whole universe exploded from the top of his head as her tongue slipped inside his mouth to dance against his.

It was happening too fast. He had planned this moment for days. He had lain awake with her in his arms formulating and calculating each touch, every moment. But none of it had taken this into account - her.

Jaycee was not the sweet, innocent who needed coaxing and seducing. She was a woman - all woman. A woman who knew what she wanted and was not afraid to take it. She was his woman. And he would deny her nothing.

His fingers began to fumble with the buttons of her shirt, but it was taking too long. With a groan of frustration, he grabbed each side and ripped. She only chuckled in his mind, 'Good thing that was your shirt, cowboy.'

'It could have been my favorite, and I wouldn't care. It was in the way.'

Her lips broke the seal, and she stepped back. Her fingers went directly to the button of her jeans, "Then I better get rid of these before I'm walking back to the ranch naked. Good thing, I did not rip your shirt off you. At least I'll have something to wear."

Her sweet laughter echoed off the canyon. It was the sweetest country ballad he had ever heard, a song that he had feared would never be the same again.

She kicked her shoes off, and the jeans quickly followed. Then as if by magic, she was back in his arms. He had never felt so complete, so right.

Her hands moved across his shoulders, back, and chest. "It is not the same. I am not the same, Rex."

She pulled back just enough to look him in the eye. He saw the tears swimming there as she spoke, "I'm not hiding anymore. I can't change the past. And even if I could, I'm not sure I would. That past brought me Angel. And for all the pain, I would not change that."

"But I can't deny or run from the bad memories either. I must live with them. But living with them does not mean they have to control or destroy me. As Grandfather told Angel, we all have choices."

Her gaze held his as a single tear slipped from the corner of her eyes, the moonlight dancing on it. The smile on her lips radiated a glow that threatened to consume him, "I choose you, Rex. I choose our future. Together."

She sealed that with a tender kiss that was as consuming as the passion had been but a moment before. Rex's hands would no longer be denied as they moved over her skin, igniting flames that they shared through their link.

She shoved, and he fell back onto the hard ground with a thud. He knew that his back would bare more than one scratch and bruise, but he did not care as she followed him down. Her body covered his. He was not complaining.

She sat astraddle his hips. Her head tossed back as that laughter burst across the cool night air again. This was no sweet ballad; this was a bold Texas two-step. It was joyous. And free.

Her fingers played across his chest as she shifted her hips. His cock slipped home, welcomed by her wet warmth. "Yes, sweetheart. Free. That is how I feel. For the first time in my life. I feel free. Alive. Happy, even. You gave me that. Your love was the key that unlocked it all."

"Marry me?" The words were out of his mouth before they even entered his sex-starved and confused brain. But Rex knew they were right. He wanted this woman as much as he needed and loved her. And he wanted the world to know the depths of that commitment.

***

Jaycee stared down into his face, dumbfounded. Those were the last words that she expected to hear at this moment. But why should they surprise her?

She brushed her finger gently through his hair. Was there more grey at his temples? Was that because of her? Of the troubles that she had brought to his life? She tenderly sketched the lines which bracketed his mouth before turning to those along his forehead. Were they deeper? Lines of worry?

Rex turned his head into her caress. His hands gripped hers, holding them against his flesh. 'And I would not change any of it, Nʉ Sʉmʉ.'

She smiled as she nodded her head. "Yes, Rex. Yes, I'll marry you."

She felt his relief and joy at those words to the core of her being as he lifted his hips, burying his shaft deeper inside of her. 'That was easier than I thought.' His hands gripped her hips as he guided her to match his rhythm, 'Now, we can get on to more pleasurable things.'

The tender teasing ignited her love for this man as well as her passion. She leaned forward until her nipples practically brushed his cheek. Close, so incredibly close, but she kept them just out of reach. Until he was moaning and pleading beneath her.

Her hands grasped his, drawing them away from her hips and above his head, until she had him firmly pinned beneath her. And at her mercy. She bent and brushed a kiss across his cheek, trailing them to his ear. "My turn to play," she whispered as she blew softly into it.

But she had other fantasies in mind as she drew the lobe into her mouth. She swirled her tongue about it as if it were the head of his cock. Rex trembled beneath her with a moan. She bit down, hard. Not hard enough to draw blood, but close. His hips jerked beneath her, and that moan turned into a roar.

She leaned back, her eyes sought his, "So, you like that?" She did not need to hear the words, his blush and the frantic pace of his hips told her more than they ever could. She threw back her head as laughter bubbled up from the depths of her belly and soul.

"Good, cowboy, because next time I'm bringing rope." His quick intake of breath and the way his eyes flared at her words sent a feeling of feminine power surging through her. It was a new sensation. One that she liked. Lot.

A dozen ideas of ways to torment, torture, and tease him sprang to mind. A smile the size of Texas spread across her face as her hips matched his pace. A lifetime with this man would not be enough to explore them all. But she was going to give it her best shot.

She heard a wolf or perhaps a coyote call across the hills to its mate. She felt at one with the creature. With her own mate. With nature itself. But perhaps most importantly, Jaycee Riley, soon to be Ranger, felt at peace with herself. With her past, even the bits of it that would always remain painful or unknown.

She knew all that was truly important. She was woman. And together with this man, she was complete. And that was alright.

Something that her Feminism 101 had not taken into account was that true equality was not always about being like man. It was about two strong individuals coming together by choice into a partnership that transcended all else. That kind of love could never make you weak or less than a man. Because she held his life in her hands every bit as much as he held hers.

"Now that you know the truth, Nʉ Sʉmʉ, would you please, please, put your cowboy out of his misery?" Rex begged as his hands flexed beneath hers.

She leaned forward, keeping her nipples once more just out of reach. "Never," she said as her lips captured his. Her tongue conquering her mate, catching his very breath and soul, drawing it deep within her until they mixed and melded as one, then breathing that life back into him.

Only then did she give in to his pitiful whimpers and pleas for relief. Riding him like the cowgirl she was. Racing towards something far more precious than a blue ribbon at the rodeo. Because in the end, there were no losers in this race of love and life as their cries mingled with that of the coyote and the howls of the wind.