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A Bear May Love a Fox	By : Io Category: G through L > Longmire Views: 2920 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: The fandom of Longmire, including characters and locations, is owned by Craig Johnson. I share not in the profits. :-)

Chapter List
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It had been another beautiful day at the Red Pony and Continual Soirée, but said soirée had broken up for the evening, and blessed silence took over the bar. Cady, who had been having a drink with a group of friends and stayed on, locked up after helping Henry deposit the last die-hard patron into a taxi. Without being asked, she grabbed the push broom from the closet and began to sweep up the night's detritus.
Henry watched her enigmatically. “Cady, you do not have to do that,” he said. “You do not work here anymore, remember? You went back to being a lawyer when you saved my life and got me out of prison.”
She smiled, but didn't stop sweeping.
“I know, Henry. I don't mind. I know you let Nick go home early so he could take care of his kids while his wife is in Corsicana, and I also know what a bitch it is to get this place clean by yourself.”
“I have done it before,” he said blandly.
“Yes, but you don't have to tonight.”
With her help, the Red Pony was closed and ready for opening the next day within an hour. She made him laugh, which was something he hadn't been used to as of late, and after they finished cleaning and straightening, he offered her a cup of decaf in the office while he went through the closing paperwork. Always so much paperwork went with owning a business.
As he added the totals from the register, Henry surreptitiously watched her from beneath half-lowered eyelids.
He didn't know when exactly he'd become aware of her as a woman; the shift had been gradual, and therefore dangerous because he hadn't noticed until it was too late. It made him sick with guilt, the dreams that would wake him in the middle of the night, reaching across the bed blindly, his body hard and throbbing with need. For her.
Cady had grown up to be a beautiful and incredible woman, and Henry had no illusions about the two of them. He was a crusty old Cheyenne, and she was young and vital, and in love with Branch Connally to boot. He felt a stab of envy at the thought of her holding Branch late in the night, the quiet darkness creating a cocoon of intimacy around them. Henry had not known a great deal of tenderness in his life, and although he wasn't bitter about it, being near Cady made him acutely aware of what he was missing. The knowledge twisted in his gut like barbed wire, but none of this showed on his face. It was becoming more and more difficult to hide his longing for her, though, when she was standing right next to him, tormenting him with her sweet fragrance and soft curves.
Cady stood next to his desk looking at the framed pictures displayed on his bookshelves. Most of them were years old, ancient memories collecting dust. One of them was of Walt and Cady on the fishing trip they'd taken when she was twelve.
“Oh, my god,” she said. “I remember this trip. We caught so many trout, and Dad was pissed because you kept catching the biggest ones. When he asked how you did that, you replied -”
“O.I.T,” Henry finished for her, smiling in fondness at the memory.
“That's right!” she laughed. “I remember Dad throwing a fish at your head when you said it.”
Henry chuckled quietly at the memory, too. He stood and joined her, taking the picture off the shelf and wiping the dust from it with his handkerchief.
“So what was it?” Cady asked, clearly curious.
“What was what?” he replied, placing the photo carefully back on the shelf and shaking out the white square of fabric.
“The old Indian trick to catch the biggest trout.”
One corner of Henry's mouth quirked up into a half-smile as he opened his desk drawer and withdrew a fresh handkerchief, placing it in his pocket. Cady smiled at his fastidiousness.
“Tinsel,” he said.
“Tinsel?” she echoed. “Like, deck-the-halls, fa-la-la? That kind of tinsel?”
He nodded. “They like the sparkle.”
Cady's laughter floated like cherry blossoms on a breeze, and he couldn't help but join her. Her eyes fell once again on the photo, and her face sobered as another memory surfaced.
“I remember the next day, do you?” she asked.
“Yes,” he replied, the smile fading from his face.
“We were hiking this particularly muddy path along the stream to a good fishing spot. I was running ahead, and you kept telling me to slow down, but I was a kid, you know, and I wanted to get there first.”
“I remember,” Henry said quietly.
“And inevitably, I slipped,” she said wryly. “I fell in the water. The stream was flooded from the rains and the current was so fast I could hardly keep my head above the surface, let alone swim. I was terrified.”
“So was I.” His voice was husky as he relived the memory of watching her get swept away.
“And then, there you were,” Cady smiled. “You jumped in after me and saved me.”
“Of course,” he said simply. There was nothing else he would or could have done.
“It was still pretty cold that time of year, and the water was freezing,” she said. “You made me take all the blankets to get warm, so I sat there on a rock looking like a giant armadillo or something, while you sat there shivering.”
“You were so small,” he said. “You needed it more. Plus, your dad got a fire built quickly, and our clothes dried soon enough. We were not in the water long enough to contract hypothermia, thankfully. And you learned a lesson about listening to your elders, at least for a while.”
She chuckled, then turned from the picture to gaze at him.
“That was when I fell in love with you,” she said.
Henry's eyes widened imperceptibly, then his face became unreadable. “A girl's first crush is often on a father figure,” he said dismissively, turning back to the pictures on the shelves.
“No, Henry,” she said, her voice serious, her eyes intent, “it was love.” She took a breath. “It still is.”
Henry's eyes widened for real this time, and he slowly turned his gaze to her to see the laughter in her eyes, as she was surely joking. But no mirth resided there, only an earnestness that made him ache.
“Cady-” he began.
“Henry, don't,” she cut him off. “I know what you're going to say, all the excuses, the reasons it wouldn't work, but I'm here to tell you I don't care. I love you and I don't care.”
Henry felt like he'd been kicked in the stomach, like the world was turning upside down and this great cosmic joke was being played on him by showing him how it would be to have what he wanted. But the one thing he wanted was the one thing he absolutely could not have, and he cursed the spirits who did this to him, miserably wondering why the most treacherous traps had the most tempting bait.
“Cady, please tell me you are not serious,” he said carefully.
She moved to stand nearer him, and he slowly backed away until the desk stopped him. Panic made his pulse pound in his ears and he struggled the keep his breathing even as he fought the urge to pull her to him and hold her close.
“I am almost twenty years your senior,” Henry said stoically. “I am your godfather. Your father is my closest friend. I cannot violate his trust.” The only outward giveaway to his emotions was his tightly clenched jaw.
“This isn't about my father, Henry, and I'm not a little girl anymore. Hell, I'm almost thirty years old! I'm old enough to make my own decisions, and I've finally decided to tell you how I feel about you.”
“What about Branch Connally?” he hedged, casting about for another reason to resist her.
That gave her pause, and a gentle regret entered her eyes. She sighed. “I admit, I used Branch,” she said. “I thought maybe he would be the one, you know? The one who could make me forget.” Her longing gaze settled on Henry. “But he couldn't, Henry. My god, if Branch couldn't make me forget you, no one can.”
A knife twisted in his heart. Desperately, he tried a lie.
“And what if I do not want you?” he asked quietly.
To his everlasting surprise, she chuckled. “Not a chance,” she murmured, politely invading his space, pressing her body close and brushing her cheek across his. His heart stopped and his breathing deepened as her fragrance invaded his senses. Unable to control it, he felt his body respond to her, his sex stirring and thickening in his jeans.
Cady was fresh and kind and beautiful, and she deserved better than a crotchety old Indian like him. He couldn't take her up on what she was offering, even though he wanted it so badly he was almost shaking with it.
“Cady,” he said. “Please stop this. I do not-”
She silenced him with her mouth. He stiffened, prepared to pull away, but the sweet softness of her lips undid him. He groaned, his arms suddenly around her, gathering her close and holding her tightly against him. He slanted his head and opened her mouth with his, invading her with his tongue, and she gave a delighted moan.
No, Henry thought. I cannot do this.
He pushed her away, being a bit rougher than he'd intended, but setting her apart from him was the first priority. Separating from her in that moment was the hardest, most painful thing he'd ever done.
“No, Cady,” he said, his heart thumping heavily in his chest. “This is not appropriate.”
“Goddamn it, Henry, would you stop it and just let yourself have what you want?”
“I do not want y-”
“Don't even think about lying to me,” she said, her eyes sparkling with anger. “I've watched you for twenty years, Henry. You think I don't know what you're thinking at every moment? You're an open book to me. You try to keep this whole 'stoic Indian man' persona going, but I see right through you. Something's changed lately, I know it. You want me. So take me,” she dared him.
Her challenge hung between them, swinging like a pendulum, and heavy tension filled the air.
His nostrils flared, and something in him snapped. Abruptly, he closed the distance between them, then grasped her waist in his hands and pulled her against him. One of his hands reached up and tangled in her hair, tilting her head back so he could look into her eyes. Without another word, he took her mouth with his in deep, possessive kisses that made them both groan. Oh, god, she felt so good. He pulled on her hair gently, tilting her head back further to expose her neck for the onslaught of his tongue and teeth. She tasted of fresh strawberries, Henry thought, and feverishly wondered if she tasted of strawberries and cream between her legs.
Her hands were busy, frantically unfastening the buttons on his shirt, popping one or two off in the process. She pulled it from the waistband of his jeans and pushed it off him, then pulled him close, pressing her breasts up against his warm, bare chest. He groaned, then broke his kisses long enough to jerk her shirt up over her head. Her bra encased the sweetest breasts he had ever seen, and he gave a low growl. He found her mouth again, then lifted her and wrapped her legs around his waist and carried her to the dark leather sofa on the other side of his office.
He deposited her there, and she bounced up, grabbing hold of his belt and pulling him down onto the sofa next to her. Her mouth found his again, and she threw a leg over his lap, effectively straddling him, her hips moving in sensual circles against his very hard shaft.
Lost in her, in the moment, he reached up and roughly pulled down her lacy bra cups and exposed her lush, pale breasts with pretty pink nipples. With a hungry sound, his mouth descended on one while the other he kneaded with a rough hand. She moaned and arched to him, clasping his head in her arms, holding him close to her heart.
His mouth left her breasts and traced back up to her neck, where he gently but ardently sank his teeth into the tender skin there. She gave a cry of pleasure, her hands wandering restlessly over his bare back. He groaned when her hips moved against him, and she backed off, sliding down his body until she was on her knees between his legs. She stared into his eyes as she reached behind her and unhooked her bra, then let the straps fall down her arms. She cast aside the undergarment, then reached for his belt.
His breathing deepened as he felt her fingers brush him through the thick fabric of his jeans, and suddenly, the thought that this was wrong, that he was taking advantage of her intruded once again, and he covered her hands with his.
“Cady, we should stop,” he said, his voice husky from desire.
Her eyes flashed, and she pushed his hands away, tugging his zipper down.
“Enough,” she said. “Enough objections. You've met your quota. You may want to torture yourself for a while longer out of some twisted idea that you don't deserve happiness, but I'm through with that. I've loved you for years, Henry Standing Bear, and I'm not giving you up anymore. You're mine now.”
She reached down the front of his pants and found him, hard and pulsing, and her eyes widened at the size of him. With two hands, she stroked him, and all ideas of resisting her fled. He was a man, not a saint. She was beautiful and honest and loving, and he watched helplessly as she opened her mouth and took him in.
But it had been too long for him, and the hot, wet silk of her mouth was too much to bear. He could not last long for her with her tongue dancing along his shaft like that, teasing and caressing. When she started sucking, he was able to endure it for about a minute before he gently took her head in his hands and pulled her up and off him, raising her lips to his for a gratified kiss.
He pulled her down onto the sofa then, laying her across the supple leather and running his hand over her lovely breasts. She arched up to him, and he reached for the fastening to her jeans. Shucking them down and off, Henry tossed them to the wayside, her panties shortly following. He stared down at Cady's loveliness, unable to believe she was here, naked for him. She lay with her knees pulled up to her chest, revealing the curved underside of her bottom and just a hint of her womanhood. With a savage sound, he bent down and ran his tongue over the slit, pushing her thighs into her belly and her feet into the air as he did so. She gasped, thrilled to her toes, then parted her legs to give him better access. His eyes were closed in delight at her taste, and then he opened them, wanting to watch her face while he pleasured her.
Cady discovered that Henry's tongue was capable of amazing things, and she shuddered as she felt her orgasm building quickly. Carefully, he inserted two fingers inside her and pressed up, stroking a bundle of nerves she didn't know she had, and she convulsed, completely taken by surprise and unable to control her reaction. Her cries of pleasure fell on Henry's ears like a benediction.
When she came back down to earth, Henry's tongue was still on her, gently licking up the length of her. She sighed, burying one hand in his silky hair while he laced his fingers with her free hand. Soon, the pressure began to build again, and Cady's breathing deepened and grew uneven. When she was arching against him, begging him to let her come, he lifted his head from between her legs and slid up her body. He settled his weight on her, kissing her again and again. She tasted herself on him and arched her hips, trying to force his penetration.
“Patience, vóhkêhéso,” he muttered thickly in her ear. “Do not worry. I will not deny you.”
She calmed down somewhat, placated by his words, but soon grew impatient again as he kissed her deeply, and then instead of taking her, bent his head to her breasts. Slowly, his tongue circled each nipple before he drew one in, sucking strongly and making her cry out into the dim space.
“Henry,” she pleaded, “please.”
“What is it you want, Cady?” he asked, his tone raw.
“I want you inside me,” she replied, reaching for his straining cock. He decided to let her have her way this time, eager to feel the tight clasp of her around him. He let her take him in her hand and guide him to the entrance to her body. Her heat washed over him, and he closed his eyes for a moment, suspended in time. When he opened them, he cupped her face and tilted her gaze up to his. Their eyes met and held, and he thrust his hips forward, penetrating her deeply.
The cry she gave was guttural and primal, and she stiffened, her head thrown back in ecstasy. His head fell forward, his face buried in her neck. In all his life, he'd never felt anything as heavenly as being inside Cady Longmire. He began moving in her, slowly at first because she was very tight, but she was also very wet from his previous attentions, and she soon began moving under him, asking without words for more.
“You want it harder?” he muttered in her ear.
“God, yes, Henry, fuck me harder,” she urged.
He capitulated, unable to resist the siren call of his own climax. His hips moved faster, and she grabbed his ass, trying to entice him even further. He reared up then, taking her hips in his hands and holding them steady, then began hammering at her. Her breasts bounced in rhythm to his thrusts and her hands clutched his arms to anchor herself.
She gave another of those primordial cries, and within moments, her body heaved, her climax crashing through her like a breakneck wave. Henry gave a shout of pleasure, the sweet contractions of her nethers around his shaft exciting him beyond measure. His rhythm was shot to hell, and he threw his head back and groaned. The sharp tingle at the base of his spine signaled imminent orgasm, and Henry couldn't control it, didn't want to, as his awareness splintered around him. All he knew was Cady and the magic they had made between them.
Slowly, as the spasms faded, Henry collapsed heavily onto Cady. He had just had the most intense climax of his adult life, and he was completely drained from it.
Cady cradled him tenderly with her soft body, closing her thighs around his hips, stroking his hair and his back. This was where she'd wanted to be since she was an adolescent, and her heart sang with joy. She'd known back then that he would never accept her advances, citing the very reasons he gave her tonight. But a deep and abiding love for Henry Standing Bear resided in her soul, and not even almost twenty years and other men had made it fade. She knew he would continue resist her, even after tonight, but she was swinging through his carefully erected barriers like a wrecking ball, and she was fiercely confident that she would succeed in breaking them down.
She had watched from afar as Deena had enticed and enchanted Henry. Her heart had cried when they seemed to be getting closer and closer, and it was only a matter of time before Deena moved in, or worse, they were married. When Henry had told her and Walt about Deena's unforgivable betrayal, she'd had to physically stop herself from taking her shotgun and hunting the bitch down.
Her arms and legs tightened around Henry and he grunted softly, sinking further into her embrace. No one would ever hurt him again, as long as she was around.
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A Bear May Love a Fox