Claire, Angela - Heart of Stone (Siren Publishing Classic) (11 page)

He was shepherding her towards the door, stopping only to say a few polite goodbyes, when Regina and her father stopped them.

“Dance isn’t nearly over, Jake. Where you going?”

Jake nodded to them.

“We’ve got to head on back, pick up Ginny. Mr. Winthrop.
Regina
.”

“Lou, please.”

“Lou.”

“And look here, Regina still wants one more dance. Go on, little girl, give it one more whirl with this big fella. I’ll wait with this missy. Go on.”

Looking pained but resigned, Jake let himself be led out to the dance floor one last time.

When she was alone with
Winthrop
, he said, “Come on, girl. Let’s go on out to the wagon and wait till they’re done. That way you and Jake can get on your way faster like.”

Melinda nodded, turning away from the sight of
Regina
in Jake’s arms, and let herself be led outside. The air had a distinct chill in it, and she shivered.

“You cold, girl?” he asked.

“A little.” For all everybody referred to him as an old man,
Winthrop
looked pretty hardy to her, and big. In fact, he was crowding her a little as he clutched her elbow and steered her to the wagon.

“Don’t worry none. I’m sure Jake will keep you warm tonight.”

The casual observation halted her, but
Winthrop
tugged at her elbow until they were moving again and then at the wagon. Before she knew what was happening, he had pushed her up against the cold wood. “Now, see here, girl. I know a whore when I see one. And I got nothing against whores.”

To her disgust, he put one meaty hand on her waist. She tried to shrug away out of his hold, but he was having none of it.

“No, I like whores just fine. As long as they know their place. So you best not be forgetting your place and getting any grand ideas about Jake Stone. He’s taken.”

Between the hard punch and
Winthrop
’s suffocating hold, Melinda felt faint, even though she most definitely was not the fainting type. Regaining herself, she pushed with both hands against his chest, hard, and he staggered back.

“You have no call to speak to me like that, Mr. Winthrop.”

“What’s going on here?” Jake called it out even as he approached, and she climbed into the wagon.

“Nothing. Just a little misunderstanding.”

Winthrop
tipped his hat. “Night, Jake.” Then he was gone.

When they were underway in the wagon, Jake asked, “Did Winthrop give you any trouble? When I saw he’d taken you outside, I came as fast as I could.”

“I’m not a delicate little flower, Jake. You don’t have to shield me from anything. Least of all insults. I’m a bastard and an orphan. And Irish to top it all off.”

“He’s the bastard. Damn it, did he insult you?”

“Forget it.”

They were driving away into the dark now, and she rested her head on his broad shoulder, not caring if anyone they left behind could see it.

“We’ll stop at the
Wilson
’s first, pick up Ginny, and maybe, depending on how you’re feeling, we may have you stay at Annie’s tonight.”

“Why do we have to go to the Wilson’s, Jake? Ginny will be sound asleep already, and Annie said she’d keep her till morning.”

He looked at her askance.

“Please, why can’t we just go home? I want to just be with you.”

He chuckled, low. She loved his laugh.

“That’s why.”

“Don’t you want to be with me?”

* * * *

Jake jerked on the reins a mite too tight and clicked his tongue in apology to the horses. Christ, how could she even ask that? He’d about chewed nails seeing the way that asshole Whelan was dancing with her, like he was just trying her out for his bed. Undoubtedly he was, but then to add to that the fact that she was drunk… Okay, maybe Whelan hadn’t gotten her drunk. Maybe even he wasn’t that low handed, but he expected Jesse would have no compunction about taking advantage of it. Thank god he’d torn
Regina
off his tail fast enough to split Jesse and Melinda up.

Regina
was another problem. The way she batted those eyes of hers at him and pressed her tits in his chest while they danced, he had half a thought to take her up on it. Of course she was only doing it on Daddy’s orders. How Old Man Winthrop could whore out his daughter like that was beyond him. Sure, it was marriage they were trying for, but all the same. It left him cold. He didn’t much care for the way
Regina
’s eyes kept darting to Jesse either. Not that he really cared.
Regina
was just a convenient diversion to keep his mind, and other things, off what he really wanted,
who
he really wanted, and right now that who was right next to him, trustingly resting her head against his shoulder. From the time he’d seen Melinda in her party finery earlier tonight, a delicate light blue dress one of Annie’s girls had lent her, he could think of nothing but peeling it off her.

Then that damned Annie offered to take Ginny so they could have a night of “fun.” It was so transparent. Annie expected he would sleep with Melinda and then marry her because he had. She was just trying to move things along. He’d thought it humorous at first, but with Melinda drunk and all but offering herself up to him on a platter, he realized that tonight could very well be one of the most dangerous nights of his life.

Melinda’s hand dropped to his lap, and he just about drove off the road. But when he groaned, she looked up at him, startled, and he saw she hadn’t even seemed to know what she’d done. She suddenly looked very sleepy. Sexy still but sleepy, and before he knew what was happening, she laid her blond head down on his lap. Apparently his boner made a good pillow because she was out. He continued to drive, but when he came to the fork in the road where he could go home or go to the
Wilson
’s, he headed home. If he showed up with Melinda’s head in his lap, Annie was liable to send for the preacher that very moment.

Melinda looked harmless enough now anyhow—hot, but harmless. When he carried her into the house at the end of the ride, she barely stirred. He laid her on her bed, not daring to undress her, and went back outside to take care of the horses. Once that was out of the way, he came back inside, threw his hat on the hook, and loosened his string tie. If tonight hadn’t earned him a stiff whiskey, he didn’t know what would. Maybe he could drink enough to knock himself numb so any temptation to tiptoe back into the bedroom of that sleeping, sexy girl would be moot. Five whiskeys later, he was sprawled out on his easy chair in front of the fire, not knocked out, but feeling pretty damn good and thinking he should probably go take an icy dip in the creek. He’d been doing that every once in a while to calm his lust when his hand got too tired, but somehow after he had seen Melinda as good as naked there, he didn’t think it would work as well anymore to douse his lust.

Well, he had to do something. His cock was still tenting his breeches. Damn unruly thing.

He felt her soft hand on the back of his neck, so soft at first that he thought he might be imagining it. But no, there she was, awake now in a tousled way, still clearly tipsy, and having taken care of the undressing rather handily on her own. She was in that same damn shift of hers. The one she’d worn into the creek. The fact that they were here, alone, and she would no doubt let him take it off her if he just reached out his hand froze him. He’d made a terrible mistake. So worried about resisting her while she was under the effects of the hard punch, and so relieved to have gotten her home to bed without further incident, he’d let down his guard. Now five whiskeys later, resisting her seemed like the last thing he could bring himself to do.

He eyed her as she came around to the front of the chair. The firelight behind her showed each luscious curve. He reached a hand out to touch one—the sweet soft curve outwards of her hip. She put her hand over his and lifted it to her mouth, kissing lightly, then placed it deliberately on her breast as she looked down at him.

“I want you, Jake. Please.”

He groaned.

“Don’t you want me, too, Jake?”

In answer, he took her other hand and laid it on his aching cock. “Are you too innocent or too drunk to know what this means?” He gripped her hand tighter around his stiff cock and then began caressing her with the hand that was on her breast. “Of course I want you. But it would be wrong to take your innocence, to maybe even get you pregnant, without marrying you.”

Even the mention of pregnancy, meant to scare her, didn’t seem to deter her. She squeezed his cock eagerly, and, God help him, he massaged her tit and pulled at one nipple, dark underneath the cotton of her shift.

“Isn’t there a way to prevent a baby?”

“No surefire way, but I’d still be taking your innocence.”

“Isn’t it mine to give?”

The whiskey and her eager touch were wearing him down. He pulled her to him, settling her sideways on his lap, and kissed the soft side of her neck. “This is lust, Melinda, pure and simple. You want to…” He hesitated, and then gave it to her straight. “You want to fuck me, and I want to fuck you. It’s biological, chemical, and us thrown together so much these last few weeks has just made the drive stronger.” He kissed her expertly, soft, feathery touches of his tongue along her lower lip. “But I’d just be using you, using what you feel, fucking you—”

“I know what that word means.”

“You’ve heard it, you mean. You don’t really know what it means.”

She was bright red now, with embarrassment or excitement he didn’t know, but he kept on, touching her while he talked to her, and in the end, he had no idea whether he was trying to talk her into or out of it.

“It means me sticking my hard cock up between those sweet long legs of yours.”

His hand had made its way up, underneath the shift, travelling along the inside of her thigh, perilously close to where he knew she was aching. And then he was there.

“Oh, Melinda…you’re so wet.” He worked one finger slowly into her vagina. “So wet and so wonderfully tight.” She gasped and moved against his hand, her response causing her sweet soft bottom to rub against his hard-as-a-poker cock as she sat on his lap.

“Please, Jake.”

“You know why I moved out west? I could have stayed in
Boston
, been a banker like all the men in my family, sat at a desk, eaten fancy steak at fine restaurants, and gotten manicures. You know why I couldn’t live that life? Because it was too soft. I’m a hard man, little Miss Melinda. I fought it back east for a time, but even then I knew it. I have to work hard and ride hard and fuck hard. That’s why I came out here. It’s a hard land out here, and it suits me just fine.”

He didn’t even know why the hell he was trying to explain himself to her instead of just fucking her. She wanted it, as the untutored movements against his hand, her head thrown slightly back, showed him. He should be shoving his cock deep between her legs by now, not just watching, tortured, as she clenched her vaginal muscles around his finger and ground her ass into his erection.

“I was too hard a man for a woman like
Victoria
. I as much as killed her—”

“You didn’t,” she protested automatically.

“And I’m too hard for a little virgin like you. So don’t be coming out here, asking me for it when you’re too drunk to know what it is, and I’m too drunk to know how to stop.”

She leaned forward then and kissed him, so sweet and soft she was damn near making his point for him. He grabbed the back of her head, giving a sharp little tug to her hair, and turned her soft sweet kiss into practically a fuck of her mouth with his tongue. After a while, he pulled away, though she hadn’t fought him.