Catch Me (10 page)

“But do you see, now?” He covered one of her hands with his own, and he burned with a power and a fever that had nothing to do with illness. “I failed to protect them. I failed as a husband. There’s no way I can walk down that road again, knowing how ill suited I am to keep a family safe.”

“I’m sorry for your loss and your pain, Dean. I truly am.” She pushed her hands through his thick hair. “But I’m not asking for a family. I’m not asking for forever.”

He shook his head, but she couldn’t tell if it was denial or lack of comprehension.

She shored up her fluttering insides and went on. “It’s now I want. Not some fantasy future that can never be.”

“You deserve more.” His voice was harsh with emotion. His hand rose, as if he’d take hold of her, but then it fell back to his side. “You should be looking to the future. And I’m not the man to give that to you. I’m not the man to give it to any good woman.”

Her smile wavered. “I’m not a good woman. I robbed a bank. Or had you forgotten?”

“How could I?” He finally took hold of her waist, his fingers digging into her flesh.

“Then you should understand I can’t look at anything past right now.” She smoothed the worried wrinkles from his forehead. “Even if, by some bizarre streak of luck, I don’t serve time for the rest of my days, I have Father to look after. He’s much recovered, but who’s to say that will last? I’ll need to devote myself to him.”

“And you say you’re not a good woman.” He kneaded her skin, stroking up toward her ribs.

“I’m not.” She slid her hands over his shoulders, under the open placket of his shirt. His skin was unbearably smooth and his muscles made her want nothing more than to sink her fingernails into him. So she did it, scoring him lightly, then moving down, down over his chest. “Would a good woman do this?” She flicked a finger over his flat nipple.

He hissed in a deep breath. “No, no, I don’t suppose she would.” His fingers sank deep into her waist and made her grateful she’d left off her corset and gone with a simple binding today. How much of this wicked touch would she miss if she hadn’t?

She leaned forward, almost unthinking, until the air blended together over their lips. “So? Will you give me now? Only this moment?”

His hands swept up her back and tangled in her hair. He pulled back, until the stinging pain forced her to bare her throat. Vulnerability made her pulse throb in her ears. His confession had been heartfelt and tender, and she’d dragged them back into the lust that so often swirled about them. Had she pushed him too far?

He tipped his mouth over her neck. “You’ll have to promise me one thing, Maggie.” The words slithered over her skin, sending a hot shiver down her spine.

“Anything,” she breathed.

“When you have regrets, you keep them to yourself.” He touched his tongue to her flesh and she jumped.

It took everything she had to follow their conversation. “
If
I have regrets, you mean.”

His lips bowed against her skin. “When. There’s no doubt in my eyes.” His teeth grazed her. “You’ll see what sort of man I really am and the regrets will come swarming in behind.”

She couldn’t imagine it, but if that were to be the price she’d have to pay for being indulged, she would. Gladly. She wrapped her fingers in his hair and pulled until his face hovered over hers once more. “In a competition between us and a mule for stubbornness, it’d be a close finish. But if that’s what it’ll take, I’ll bend. I promise. I won’t tell you about the regrets I’ll never have.”

He smiled. He finally smiled. It transformed him into a man of beauty. “I need more words for stubborn with you around, you fool-headed woman.”

Yes, she was foolish, at least when it came to the lust that nearly overwhelmed her. She yanked him down and pressed her mouth to his.

But she kept control for only as long as it took her eyes to flutter shut. He took over, body and soul, his strong arms banding about her back and his mouth sweeping over hers. His tongue dipped behind her teeth and twined about hers.

They kissed for what felt like an eternity, until she thought that this just might be the most pleasant way to avoid Yuma forever. His hands cosseted her, comforting and eliciting a yearning hunger as they stroked up and down her back. He pushed her back into the soft buffalo grass and she didn’t even put up a token resistance. She melted for him, a willing puddle for him to stomp through as he wished.

But eventually she began to twist and pull inside her own skin. It wasn’t like her to sit passively, to wait. She speared her fingers through his hair and framed her thumbs before his ears. He shuddered in her arms when she brushed his earlobe, so she did it again. The kisses slammed her harder, until she thought for sure her mouth would be bruised and swollen when they were done.

He hovered above her, braced on bent arms. But she wouldn’t stand for that. She looped a leg over his hips and tugged. He fell to her with a husky groan. She let her hands range down his back, exploring his thick muscles and the tempting in-and-out sweep of spine and buttocks.

Yes, please,
was all she could think. And he delivered.

Every time she thought he might hesitate, he moved on with a desperate fierceness that radiated all the way through her. He claimed and plundered, yanking her shirt free of her trousers with furious movements and ripping her bindings away. The first touch of skin to skin seared her. She freed her mouth from his and sucked in great, gasping breaths as her breasts rose to his touch. He started with tender caresses across the swollen undersides, then raked the back of his nails over her flesh and flicked her taut nipple.

She gasped his name and wrapped her legs more tightly about him, trying to do something, anything to ease the ache centered there. He was near on driving her insane.

Her mind emptied of all but Dean and the pleasure he wrung from her. Even the forest faded to nothingness and the chirp of crickets disappeared. Her nose filled with the crisp smell of him, overriding the green tang of the fallen leaves.

He pried her ankle from his upper thigh and eased her leg to the floor. Even still, she whimpered and tried to raise it again, only to find her knee caught in his firm grasp. A teasing, taunting smile arched the mouth she could put to much better use.

“Let me,” he said.

“Let you what?” She was quite simply lost. Confused and bewildered, but she wouldn’t give up a single second of it.

He stroked the inside of her thigh and her leg melted into the forest floor like magic. The other followed soon after, and she lay like a wanton, ready for anything he’d give her. The same fingers that loaded his guns with such nimbleness spread her open blouse further over her shoulders, and then her belt buckle and the placket of her buttoned trousers. If she had no chance in the face of Dean’s renewed determination, her porcelain buttons had no hope either. They fell away as quickly.

He grazed his teeth over the tender skin of her upper chest. She shivered against the excitement that washed over her. He tugged at her trousers’ waistband, and she lifted her hips and kicked off her boots. Anything to help him along. She probably seemed like the loosest woman to cross the Rio Grande, but it hardly mattered. Not when she was finally getting what she now realized she’d wanted for forever and a year.

He coaxed her upright with kisses and hands behind her shoulder blades. “Up here. I want you near. All over me.” He sat back, legs nearly folded under him, and draped her limbs about his hips.

Nerves jittered up her throat, closing it up, and her heart spiraled out of control. She’d never been so blatantly exposed in her life. Her cheeks burned hot and she tucked her face into the strong curve of his shoulder. Her tongue darted out of its own will. He was sharp with the salt of sweat. “By all means. Let’s give you what you want,” she breathed, hoping a smart-mouthed comment would drive her sudden fears away. But it did little to assuage her.

The forceful grip on her upper thighs calmed her in a way words failed to do. “You’re beautiful, you know that?” His breath rushed over her ear beneath her loosening hair, his voice rough and raw.

Though she had no idea what to say to that, her mouth curved against his skin. She wrapped her arms about his wide shoulders and dug her fingers into his back.

He kissed her again, winding his hands through her hair to draw her face where he wished it. Butterfly-soft kisses fluttered over her chin, the falling-back arch of her throat, her collarbone. He bent her back over one strong arm, until her breasts perked high under his avid gaze. He sucked and licked and tasted them until she forgot that she’d ever even had an attack of nervousness.

She hardly noticed his free hand roaming over her tight belly. It seemed a continuation of the fire inside her. But when he traced through her tight curls at the apex of her thighs, she certainly felt the answering rush of moisture. A desperate mewl filled the small clearing and, startled, she realized it came from her.

“Don’t worry. I’ll fix it,” he said. She would have taken offense to the amusement in his voice, but it was enough to know he wouldn’t leave her like this. Desperate. Frantic. Twisted tight.

He petted and stroked her until she thought she’d come apart. She shook her head frantically, keeping her face buried in his thick shoulder. Something was wrong. She’d never been so horribly close to losing control in her life, and her body knotted into an alien version of herself. Sweat sprang up behind her bent knees and along her forehead, slicking their skin together. When he slipped a finger inside her and did
something
with his thumb, the feeling jittered all the way up to her neck.

She keened his name and dug her fingers tighter into his muscles. She wished for long nails—the better to claw and mark him—while he worked her over and over. Then she burst. All thought gone in a blinding rush of
now
. Her teeth sank into his flesh and she filled her mouth with him as she went over the precipice.

Returning to herself seemed a long, arduous journey she didn’t want to make. So much easier to float in the nothingness of her mind. But eventually she filled her lungs with deep, shuddering gasps and rubbed her mouth across the red marks she’d left in his golden skin.

He didn’t seem to care she’d bit him. He stroked up and down her back, under her open shirt, and dropped petal-soft kisses over her hair, so light, she thought through her haze, she must be imagining them. It took another moment to realize her stubby nails were still sunk deep into his skin. Finger by finger, she released them back from her palms. It felt so good that she stretched her arms back and over her head, arching her spine over Dean’s grip. Somehow she knew he’d hold her up. Muscles and tendons pinched and tweaked, then she filled with a tingling rush of blood to where it belonged.

She threw her arms around Dean’s neck, much more loosely this time, and beamed at him. “That wasn’t what I expected…But my, was it wonderful. Thank you.”

What sounded like a soft laugh chuffed from him, but when she jerked her head up she saw no trace of amusement on his features. He shook his head. “I don’t think I’ve ever been thanked for that before.”

“No?” She tugged her shirt closed and down over her upper thighs. “I can’t imagine why not. I can assure you, you do it marvelously.”

He smoothed a lock of her hair back off her forehead. “It’s just not the way things are done, I suppose.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, I know that. I’m just teasing you.” She petted the light dusting of curls that covered his chest. Her hand traced lower, until the edge of her palm caught on the taut ridge at the top of his stomach. “It does no harm to find amusement now and then, you know.”

“With you around, I’m not so sure of that. You’re going to be the death of me.” But his mouth crooked into that near-smile he doled out occasionally, taking any possible sting out of the words.

“Will I?” She ventured down to his belt buckle, and fiddled at the bit of leather belt sticking out the side. “I can help with that, I think.”

He put a hand over hers and stilled her play. “That won’t be necessary.”

“No?” She tilted her head to the side, peering into his eyes. But they’d gone ice blue again, and gave little hint as to his thoughts. “I know how I felt before. Wouldn’t you like some release?” She tried to wiggle her hand free, but he pinched her into the hard buckle. “I wouldn’t mind, I assure you.”

“You know more than I gave you credit for.”

She shrugged. “I have married friends who love to gossip. Especially after a glass or two of wine.”

“And I’m sure you nag after them until they’ve confessed all.”

She smiled. “Maybe not
all
. There’s some secrets one needs to keep in a marriage. But I’ve a wealth of knowledge I wouldn’t have otherwise.”

He gripped her hips and lifted her off his lap, shaking his head as he handed her the trousers that had fallen unnoticed to the side. She bit back the exuberant giggle that wanted to climb up her chest. “For example, I know a man experiences some pain if he’s not allowed to…finish, let’s say.”

His hands stilled on his bottom shirt button and he looked out at her from under his lowered brow. Chagrin, and maybe even a touch of embarrassment, flitted across his features. His mouth slammed flat. “Trust me, I’ll be fine. I’ve survived five years now.”

That such a vital specimen of manhood had gone without a woman for so long seemed almost absurd. It certainly couldn’t be for lack of offers. “I never really pictured you as a saint, Dean Collier.”

His face went black. He ducked his chin to his chest. “Make no mistake, I’ve been no saint.”

She shook her head as she pulled her trousers up over her hips and set about buttoning her shirt. “Certainly sounds like it to me.”

He stood, feet spread, one hand fisted, the other level with his pistol butt. “Since Annie died, I’ve spent the last five years near drunk, in a killing mood. For the most part, I gave into it. I took every bounty I knew would let me kill a man. I’ve sought oblivion with both hands open, and become a man I can’t hardly look at in the mirror. Whoring was never one of my sins, but that doesn’t mean you should go about thinking I’m someone I’m not. I’ll only get you killed that way.”

The warm spring air suddenly cooled as it rushed in and out her gaping mouth. She licked her bottom lip, then gulped. “All right,” she breathed. Slowly, carefully, she went about poking her shirt back into her waistband. She risked a look at him from under her lashes. “But, Dean, do you mind if I ask something?”

He’d turned away to face a tree. One palm dragged down his face. “Go right ahead. I’m sure you will anyhow.”

She split her hair into three hanks and started braiding as she considered how to word it. Eventually she blew out a breath. “What makes you think you’re fit to walk in my father’s shoes?”

He spun on a boot heel. “Excuse me?”

She fished a spare length of rawhide out of a breast pocket and tied off the end of her braid. “If you’ve been so awful for all these years? So horrible, and terrible? What makes you think you can take over as lawman for Fresh Springs?”

“I was a sheriff, before…well, just before.”

“So?” She flicked the braid over her shoulder, so it thumped across her shoulders. “That was then. I’m talking about now. Why are you qualified to be lawman now, after the years you’ve spent bending rules?”

He sighed and shifted side to side. “I suppose you want honesty?”

“I usually do.” She lifted her hand to trace over his back but at the last second jerked back. Her fingers shook. It seemed intimate, especially in the middle of such a conversation. A careful swallow pushed down her irrational fear. Her arm fit snugly around his waist.

She didn’t know what she’d feared, but he didn’t shove her away or anything absurd. Instead, he rubbed her shoulders and stared out over her head, lost in his own thoughts. “It’s my last chance, Maggie. A final opportunity to get back a piece of my soul. I can’t ever be what I was, but at least I can try again. And there aren’t too many towns willing to take on an ex-bounty hunter as a sheriff.”

“Probably more true than not.” Too many stories about how fast and loose bounty hunters could play with the rules. “But couldn’t you at least try somewhere else?”

“Where?” He pushed her back by the shoulders and his gaze burned into hers with a cold flame. “You tell me where, Maggie, and I’ll give it a try.”