Page 59 of Nightcrawler

He shook his head as he stretched out on his side, facing me, head propped up in one hand. “No, and even if you had, I’m stronger than you think, Miguel. I wouldn’t have missed feeling you inside me, for a million dollars.”

I grinned at him. “I’m a little short right now.”

He smiled back at me, eyes glinting in the near darkness. He reached down and covered my cock with his hand, lifting it from the hair in my crotch. “You’re anything but short, Miguel Huerta.”

I threw back my head and laughed, reaching around and squeezing his tight butt. I dragged my gaze away from his lips and looked down at his chest, sobering. When I glanced back up at him, he was watching me. “I love your body, Raven.” I reached out and tweaked a nipple, watching his reaction as he sucked in breath. “I do miss the nipple bars, though.”

He laughed. “I wasn’t sure what you’d think when you saw them. I figured it was a risk but then again, I didn’t really know how to explain them.”

I leaned in and kissed him softly, blending our lips in a slow, sensuous kiss. When I pulled away, he was panting again. “When I saw them, I figured you were gay.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Really? How?”

I smirked. “Let’s just say that between high school and the Marine Corps, I’ve seen my share of naked guys and to a tee, not a single one with nipple bars turned out to be straight.”

He laughed. “And I bet you tried themallout, just to be sure.”

I raised my hand, grinning and giving a mock salute. “Oohrah!”

He chuckled and then reached out, cupping my cheek. “I had a great time tonight, Miguel.” He paused only a moment before going on. “I hope we can do this a lot more.”

“I’d like that.” I sat up, looking around the room and not finding what I needed. “Not to change the subject, but I built up a terrible thirst.” I smiled. “Do you have water somewhere?”

“Let me get it.” He started to get up, but I stopped him with a hand to his shoulder.

“You relax. You’re going to be sore in the morning, so I’ll grab some acetaminophen for you and a bottle of water, and then, you’re going to sleep. We both have a meeting in the morning, and I want you in good shape for that.”

“Thanks, Miguel. There’s bottled water in the fridge and the Tylenol is in the bathroom.”

“Okay. I’ll be right back.” I leaned down and kissed him again before dragging my pants back on and walking out of the room.

RAVEN

I looked down at the wound on my belly after Miguel walked out of the room. The bandage covered it well and as I touched the plastic covering over it to make sure it was still in place, I felt relieved. There was no heat and no swelling coming from the wounds and I didn’t feel the least bit feverish. Right before my shower, I’d opened the medicine cabinet and grabbed a few pills which came from my nana’s medicine bag. She always kept a supply of herbal medicine on hand.

The man who brought them, lived almost an hour from us, but Chico always brought her a supply of his herbal concoctions with him when he dropped in to visit her. He made them himself from plants he collected in many places, and she swore by them. They cured everything from headaches to minor infections to more serious liver and kidney conditions. At least, that’s what he’d proven to my nana and many other Native American women over the years. I’d sent a few off to a lab GMS dealt with just to make sure they were safe for Nana to take, and the analysis had come back just as he’d promised. The ingredients were harmless and all natural. Their effectiveness had never been questioned by her and I can remember many days when her daughter—my mother—had sworn by them.

Thinking of my mother now brought back both sad and happy memories for me. She’d been so beautiful with long, glistening, black hair and almond shaped eyes of the darkest blue. That she’d never truly accepted her Native American heritage pained my nana. That she’d cursed my nana, blaming her for my Caucasian father leaving us when I’d been just an infant, had never been fair. Though my mother never said so, I’d always believed that she wished she’d been born fully white, so thathe wouldn’t have had an excuse to abandon us. I’d quit asking about him when I was just a kid because bringing him up only led to my mother’s rages. I hadn’t realized she’d most likely been an undiagnosed manic depressive, until I was an adult.

I had mostly good memories of her. She’d sung to me and rocked me and held me in her arms even though we’d struggled for every morsel of food. As soon as I was old enough, I’d left Arizona and come to L.A. I still felt guilt about leaving her there alone, but she was sad all the time, and me being there or not didn’t alter things. She wouldn’t get any help, and I had to make a life for myself. She’d most likely died from drugs, taken to deal with her mental illness, though, my nana never confirmed it. She’d explained that her daughter—my mother—had finally died of heartbreak. A man it didn’t work out with. My mother had lived a very sad life.

Thank God for my nana.

Miguel came back into the room, looking strong and handsome in just jeans as he padded across the room in bare feet. He held two sweating bottles of cold water and a bowl full of green grapes. I couldn’t help but grin as he climbed onto the bed.

“Water?” He offered me a bottle and I took it, downing half in seconds as the icy coldness of it slid down my throat. I pushed painful memories away as I watched the man stretch out on the bed next to me. He smiled as he plucked a fat grape from the stem and offered it to me. I rolled toward him, letting him feed me the grape. It burst in my mouth, juicy and sweet and I reached out, caressing the thatch of hair on his chest.

Miguel was a handsome man. His tanned skin looked almost olive in the low lighting of the bedroom. He looked at me with such devotion on his face as I remembered the way he’d made love to me. He’d taken my breath away. Either he’d had a lotof practice, or he was just a quick learner. For my own ego, I preferred the latter explanation. Whatever the truth, it didn’t matter. Tonight, at least, he was mine, and at the moment, he had decidedly too many clothes on to suit me. I waved at the jeans.

“Take those off.”

Miguel smirked at me, drank an entire bottle of water, and popped another grape into his mouth, chewing as if to make a point. He raised a silky eyebrow. “Why?”

I chuckled. “Because I’m planning on cuddling with you all night, and I don’t like the idea of chafing when I rub up against you.”

Miguel threw his head back and laughed. When he’d finished, he lifted the bowl of grapes from his belly, and twisted to put them aside. When he turned back to me, he wore the slyest expression.

“You’re planning on rubbing up against me?”