A Fire in the Blood (42 page)

      
"You're right. Let's forget Lemuel and all the good folks of Cheyenne. . . ." She lowered her head to his, covering his face with her long hair as her lips brushed and teased his.

      
If this was going to be his last night with her, Jess wanted it to be a glorious one, filled with life and love, not death and bigotry. He pulled her atop him and enfolded her in his embrace, kicking the rustling sheets to the bottom of the big bed.

      
Lissa's body wriggled against him as she pressed her breasts against his chest and tangled her legs with his. Her mouth opened for his kiss, and hot darts of pleasure tingled on their dueling tongues, radiating through her breasts and belly, all the way to her toes. She could taste the faint tang of whiskey and tobacco in his mouth as she pursued the kiss with as much zeal as he, biting his lower lip, then running the tip of her tongue inside, along his teeth, until he nipped softly at the velvety tip of it, then sucked it.

      
His hands ran over her sleek little buttocks, then embraced the slender curves of her waist. He raised her, holding her above him so her breasts hung suspended like plump melons, tempting him to taste. When he took one pebbly nipple into his mouth, the sweet richness that nourished his son trickled onto his tongue and he trembled with love for her.

      
Lissa threw back her head as the ripples of pleasure coursed through her. Jess turned his seeking hot mouth from one breast to the other, tasting and caressing until she was frenzied with desire. Her legs scissored over him, trapping his rigid phallus between her thighs. She squeezed until he groaned in pleasure.
      
Then he lifted her higher and pulled her up into a kneeling position with her legs straddling his shoulders. "Hold onto the headboard, Lissa," he commanded hoarsely.

      
Blindly she obeyed, her small hands clutching it with whitened knuckles as his hot mouth fastened on her sleek, velvety petals, parting them with his tongue as delicately as a bee seeking nectar from a wildflower. When he touched that small tight bud at the center of her being, coaxing it with deft circling motions, she almost screamed with the incredible ecstasy. What wild, forbidden magic was this? Surely men and women could not love this way.

      
Surely they could! His hands cupped her buttocks, holding her as his tongue and lips worked so exquisitely that she thought the pleasure would drive her over the abyss into madness.

      
Jess could feel her arching her back as her climax neared. He slowed and gentled the caresses, prolonging the delicious sensations for her, and for himself. He loved the taste of her, loved feeling her quiver in the throes of this new passion. Her head fell back, and her long fiery hair fell onto his belly, brushing lower, tickling and tantalizing his hard staff as it strained for more of the silky stimulation.

      
Lissa did go over the abyss—not to madness but rather to a fierce, shattering release that sent tremors racing from her head to her toes.

      
Jess held her until the spasms finally slowed and ebbed. Then he slid up between her legs. Her hands still clung to the headboard. He pried them loose, and she slid bonelessly into his arms.

      
"Wha—what did you do to me?" she whispered, when she could breathe again. She still was not certain if her heart had resumed beating or was pumping so fast that it had gone numb in her chest.

      
He kissed her throat and pressed her against him, holding her possessively. He must leave her and their son, but after this night, she would always be his. "Did you enjoy it?" Foolish question.

      
"Yes," she said so softly he could barely hear. Then she settled back on his legs and felt his rigidly straining erection. "But you . . . you didn't. . ."

      
"Yes, I enjoyed it—enjoyed giving it to you, but no, I didn't come with you," he whispered, tucking a wayward curl behind her ear. His breath was expelled in a gasp as she wriggled her bottom against his staff.

      
A bemused look came over her face in the dim predawn light, and she chewed her lip as she pondered. "Jess . . ." she began very low, almost afraid to ask such a bold question. "If you could make love to me that way ..."

      
"Mmm," he murmured against her ear, knowing what she would do.

      
She knelt, then moved back and bent down, taking his phallus in her hands experimentally, almost as if awaiting instruction. She looked up at his face, which was taut with sexual tension.

      
"You're a bright woman, Liss. You figure it out," he said in a raspy harsh voice.

      
She chuckled boldly then and bent over to taste of him as he had of her. How hot and hard it was! A thrill of excitement rippled over her as she experimented with the velvety tip, flicking her tongue around it until he arched his hips and let out a guttural cry. "Like you said, I am a bright woman," she murmured, just before she drew him deeply into her mouth.

      
He trembled and cried out, then gave in to the blinding pleasure. His hands tangled in her hair, guiding her movements as she caught the rhythm that swiftly brought him to the edge of the abyss.

      
Lissa felt him trembling and swelling, then the hot, sweet seed came spilling out, and she tasted of him as fully as he had of her. She gloried in it. His hands clenched into fists and his long, hard body bucked. He was as completely in her power as she had been in his.

      
Raising herself up, she watched him with a possessive smile curving her lips. When she lay over him and snuggled against his chest, he came to his senses enough to embrace her tightly.

      
"Lissa, Lissa," he whispered, kissing the top of her head. She lifted it and looked into his eyes.

      
Then she raised her mouth to his slowly and they kissed, a tender, deep caress that went on and on until the fire in their blood rose once more, scorching them with its all-consuming intensity. They rolled back and forth across the big bed, arms and legs entwined, hands rubbing and gliding, mouths tasting. Their desperation was fueled by the unspoken specter of final separation.

      
She arched her pelvis against the hardness of his staff, then opened her thighs to his entering thrust with a small, mewling cry. He rolled her atop him and held her hips, arching his strongly muscled back to penetrate her most deeply. She leaned over him and his hands slid up to hold her breasts, cupping and teasing them with an exquisite tenderness at odds with the harsh, hungry rhythm with which they had mated.

      
They were like two passengers on a runaway train, madly craving the fierce, swift ascent on their journey, yet never wanting the thrill to end, for when it did a terrible reckoning would follow. When the blinding glory of surcease washed over Lissa, Jess followed her to the conclusion of their breathtaking ride.

      
The morning air was chill on their sweat-sheened bodies as they collapsed, still entwined. Cradling her in his arms, he pulled the sheet over them and they fell quickly into an exhausted, dreamless slumber.

      
A sharp rapping on the front door of the suite finally awakened them. Jess could hear Clare speaking to someone as Johnny's fretful cries drifted faintly from the other room. Lissa felt Jess untangling his arms and legs from hers. She sat up as he slipped from the side of the bed and reached for a pair of denims he had tossed across a chair yesterday.

      
Her breasts were tight and painful, and Johnny's cries reminded her that it must be late in the morning. She looked down with a blush at the telltale abrasions and love bites covering her body. She was sore for more than one reason!

      
"That's Tate," Jess said as he reached for the door. "There must be trouble to bring him to town." Carefully shielding her, he cracked open the door and stepped through it as Lissa rose with the sheet draped around her body.

      
"Send Clare in with Johnny," she called after him. In a moment, the maid entered with the fussing baby. Unable to meet Clare's red-faced embarrassment, Lissa seized her son with a murmured thanks and dismissed the girl, then carried Johnny over to a big chair by the window and sat down to attend to both their needs.

      
In the next room, Jess greeted Shannon with a troubled nod. "What's brought you to town, Tate?"

      
"Damn rustlers run off near a thousand head at the upper Lodgepole last night."

      
"A thousand head!" Jess echoed incredulously. "They can't drive that many beeves all the way to Nebraska—a herd that size would slow them down. And it's too damn big for quick illegal sales to smaller ranches or nesters along the way."

      
"I figger they just plan to run their legs off and scatter em," Tate said grimly. "Mebbee kill 'em. Someone's out to ruin J Bar. No more doubt about it."

      
Jess swore. "How many of the J Bar men you think would back us?"

      
"Moss was real pissed about them sons-of-bitches killin' beeves this way. He might convince the longtime hands into ridin' for the brand."

      
"There's something funny going on, Tate," Jess said, wishing he had had more sleep last night. If only he could think straight. "I found out that crazy old housekeeper bought some arsenic last month."

      
"That Frenchie?" Tate asked, scratching his head. "What the hell would she have to do with the rustling?"

      
"That's what I mean to find out. You take Lissa and Johnny home. I want her safe at the ranch—away from Germaine Channault. I'm going to go have a little talk with Madame Channault—and see if I can drum up some more men here in town to ride with us."

      
"No one would before," Shannon said disgustedly.

      
"That was before Cy Evers owed Lissa and me each a favor," Jess replied enigmatically.

      
"When you get to J Bar, have Moss and whoever he can muster start rounding up all the steers they can save." He returned to the bedroom and closed the door behind him.

      
Lissa, who had hastily donned her robe, sat nursing Johnny. She looked up with a worried expression on her face. "What's happened?"

      
"Another raid on J Bar cattle. Tate's going to take you back to the ranch. I have some business here in town." He debated telling her he was going to confront Germaine.

      
"What business, Jess?"

      
Reluctantly he admitted, "I'm going to have a little talk with Germaine before I leave Cheyenne. Can you think of any reason she'd be involved in this mess?"

      
She shrugged helplessly. "She always hated me—ever since I was a child. I never understood how much until after she learned about us. I think she's dangerous, Jess."

      
He quickly donned the rest of his clothes and strapped on his gun. Looking up grimly, he replied, "I doubt I'll have to shoot her, Lissa." He bent over and kissed her lightly. "Tate will be waiting outside for you and Clare as soon as you're ready."

      
"We'll only be a few minutes," she replied. "Be careful ... I love you," she added softly as he slipped through the door.

      
When Jess was gone, a trembling Lissa sat down to calm her fretful son and finish feeding him. She called out for Clare to begin packing. Within half an hour they were on their way back to J Bar with Tate Shannon.

      
Jess went to Abney's Livery to get Blaze, then rode over to the Cheyenne Club for a talk with Cy Evers. As luck would have it, the old man was just walking to the club's private livery to get his horse. He turned as Robbins dismounted near the path.

      
"You're out early after a late night, Robbins," Cy said shrewdly, waiting for Jess to explain his reason for the unexpected visit.

      
"I just received some bad news." He quickly explained about the scattered herd and the need for haste rounding them up. "J Bar stands to lose over a thousand head if I can't get Moss Symington some help."

      
"Someone seems to have it in for the brand," Cy said, scratching his head. "I'd opine they just had it in for you, 'cause of Lissa and all, but hell, this started afore Marcus ever sent for you."

      
"That's what I figure, too." Jess related the information Cammie had given him, then added, "I thought someone from the Association might be involved."

      
Evers's keen brown eyes studied Jess. "You mean Lem Mathis, I reckon. Damned if I kin believe that. Even though he did have a rightful grudge agin you."

      
"I'm not accusing him yet—but I need help to save those beeves while I do some more investigating." Jess's eyes met Evers's levelly.

      
The old man sighed. "You know I owe you for last night—Lissa, too, for saving Dellie. I'll send a couple dozen Diamond E hands to give Moss some help."

      
"I'm obliged, Evers." Robbins nodded and mounted up as the old man vanished inside the immaculate livery stable.

      
Jess headed across 17th Street up to 16th, where the Inter Ocean Hotel was located. Germaine had been staying there since she had been discharged from J Bar. The hotel lobby was surprisingly well appointed. At first Jess was taken aback, but remembering what Lissa had told him about the generous bequest Marcus had left the old harridan, he imagined she was enjoying being waited upon.

      
The clerk eyed his gun nervously. "Mornin'. You lookin' for a room?" he asked suspiciously.