Deborah Camp (24 page)

“What’s wrong, Dellie? Are you shy?” he asked. “Want me to lower the light?”

“Douse it,” she said. She watched him cross the room to lower the wick. “I do believe you can undress me quicker than I can myself, Reno Gold.”

“Ah, is that it?” He sat on the edge of the bed. “Is that what made you retreat from me? Go ahead, if you would rather. Undress yourself. I’ll sit here and watch.”

“Oh, no, you don’t.” She sat on the bed next to him. “You want that kind of show, then go find a saloon girl and be ready to pay her handsomely.”

Laughing, he pulled her to him. His mouth claimed hers again and his chuckles died as the fire of his desire rose high. Dellie fell back on the bed, no longer concerned with his skills and her lack of them. When he kissed her, open-mouthed and hungry as a wolf, she cared for nothing in the world but to kiss him back. His kiss transported her, transformed her.

Clothing evaporated under his warm, swift hands and she was reduced to her chemise and stockings in no time. He shrugged off his suspenders and unbuttoned his shirt. Pulling it free of his waistband, he then brought her hands to his chest. She released a luxurious sigh, her fingers exploring the springy curls, the flat nipples, the corded muscles. Ah, it was everything she’d imagined! The feel of him, so different, so tough and tender and foreign!

He rained fire-tipped kisses over her face, stamping her mouth over and over until her lips felt bee-stung.
Instinct began to rule her, urging her to stroke his sun-kissed shoulders, to knead his strong back, to caress his ribs while he untied the ribbons of her chemise and parted the fabric to reveal the soft, white globes of her breasts. She saw his eyes glow, and then he dipped his head and his lips circled one of her nipples.

She thought she had died for a moment, but then life and feeling came flooding back to her in a whitehot flash. His tongue flicked over her nipple and he sucked hard. Pleasure corkscrewed in her stomach and shot down her thighs. She clutched his head in her hands as her breath sawed in her throat.

Her mother was right. There were no words.

Reno sensed the quicksilver changes taking place in her body. Through his lashes he watched ecstasy claim her features, drawing her lovely mouth into a sweet pucker and closing her eyes in a near swoon. He wanted this to be unforgettable, but for all the right reasons. Therefore he eased off her and collected himself by gathering his iron self-control.

Folding back the bed covers and plumping the pillows, he sniffed the rose-scented air and smiled. Just like Dellie to make everything smell sweet and delicate. He spread her hair across the pillow and it looked like black fire. Starlight painted her face and shadows played across her beautiful body. After removing the final lacy scraps of her clothing, he kissed her slowly and deeply while he dispensed with his own trousers and underwear. Naked, he came to her, covering her body with his own, warming her cool skin with the heat of his.

Her smile was tremulous, and he knew she was full
of anxiety. He remembered his first time—the awkwardness, the brevity, the acute embarrassment—and he wanted something better for her.

“Aren’t you glad you didn’t shoot my toes off, Dellie?” he teased, trying to relax her.

She blushed and smiled. “I was mad at you.”

“I noticed.”

“I’d been fussing over you, afraid you might take a turn for the worse, and then I found out you’d been in town beating up on people. Then you snuck out
again
and went God knows where, leaving me to worry.”

“I was visiting with Paul Green, Dellie,” he reassured her. “Spending so much time with women makes a man crave man talk. Nothing wrong with that, is there?”

She conceded with a twitch of her lips. “I suppose being around here, around me, is trying.”

“Maybe not so much anymore.” He trailed a fingertip down her throat to the valley between her breasts. “Mainly I’ve been trying to keep my hands off you. After tonight that won’t be a problem.”

“Perhaps,” she allowed, mischief dancing in her eyes.

“No perhaps about it,” he promised, framing her face in his hands and kissing her soft, giving mouth.

He set about turning her bones to liquid and her qualms to dust by priming her body with moist kisses and feather-light caresses. Gathering her breasts in his hands, he kissed their pink crowns and tongued them to diamond hardness. She writhed beneath him, wrapped in emotions that he knew she could barely understand.

When her legs parted, he settled himself between them, gauging her readiness by the quickening of her breathing and the drumming of her heartbeat. He stroked her smooth stomach and touched the mass of curls. She released a sound of trepidation, so he kissed her lips before exploring further. He was glad to discover that her body had responded and prepared itself for what was to come next.

“I’m glad you waited for me,” he whispered, shifting himself against her, positioning himself, sensing her wariness. “Easy, darlin’. I’ll be easy.”

And he was, gliding into her slick portal, pausing only a second before driving through her final defense. He sensed her moment of pain and kissed her softly and then hungrily, engaging her in the glory so that she would forget the discomfort.

She was honey and cream to him, and he lapped her up with his hands and his mouth and tongue.

With her pulse humming, she gripped his hips and fell into his rhythm. After a few strokes she felt the flames of her passion leap higher and higher still as he rotated his hips slightly and ground his body against hers. She shuddered, her senses clamoring for something just out of reach but vital.

His mouth fastened on hers, pulling at her, tugging at her, tempting her closer to the edge. Her skin became slick, sliding against his and creating an indescrible friction that added to the intensity of their coupling. Pleasure, even passion, were mild, weak words for what she was feeling.

As his pace increased, so did the wildness within her. She clamped her legs around him and lifted her hips to meet his lunges. And then, like a stampede, it
was on her. She strained her head back into the pillow, mindless with desire, her body bowed and tensed, shuddering with pure ecstasy.

He bucked against her, and strange, wonderfully sexy sounds emerged from him as he released his seed deep within her.

The beauty of the moment burst in him like a sunrise. She whispered his name. Her fingers clutched at his shoulders, then her mouth moved across his jaw, skimmed his lips, nipped at his earlobe. Holding her, he shared her every tremor and took each soughing breath with her.

He was perspiring and pleasantly weak when he came to himself, back from the towering height of passion. She lay beneath him, her breasts rising and falling, her lips parted, her eyes glimmering with unshed tears. He leaned closer until she closed her eyes, and he kissed the transulcent lids and gathered the salty, crystal drops with the tip of his tongue.

“Why are you crying, sugar?”

For a moment he thought she wouldn’t answer, then she sighed and a smile teased the corners of her mouth.

“Because there are no words,” she said.

He nodded, understanding, then rolled onto his side and pulled her up against him. Wrapping her in his embrace, he felt her body go soft and limp and trusting. His heart swelled with so many feelings that he thought he might shed a few tears himself. It had never been like this before for him. He had never cared so deeply or felt so much.

Recalling the many ribbings he’d given other men
who had been smitten with their wives or wives-to-be, Reno felt shame. Hell, he was the worst of the lot!

He snuggled closer to his Dellie, glad to be caught and happy to be claimed.

B
uzzing around the restaurant the next morning, Adele felt like a new woman. She wondered if any of her customers had noticed. Her fellow workers suspected what had transpired last night and delivered teasing grins and a few suggestive remarks, which Adele accepted good-naturedly. She couldn’t be mad at anyone on this glorious morning, she thought, stopping by one of the remaining windows to view the arrival of another train. That was the third one since six. Monday was always a busy day.

She moved closer to the window to see the position of the red ball on its metal pole. The ball had been lowered, which signaled the train engineer to stop at the depot and let the passengers alight. This meant that the trains were running on time and business at the restaurant would be brisk. If the ball was at the top of the pole, it signaled the engineer to highball it, keep on going, because the trains were running late and schedules were skewed. Lately the railroads had worked smoothly with the telegraphers to keep the trains punctual. The ball was rarely hoisted to the top of the pole anymore.

Watching the approach of an iron horse was always exciting for Adele, but she particularly loved to witness the arrival of a night train, with its huge front headlight and twinkling red lanterns on the last car. The monstrous oil-burning headlights were made of brass and glass and emitted enough light to tear through the black fabric of night. The train’s low, mournful wail would sound, and the depot flagmen would light their lanterns to signal to the engineer and brakemen. Then the evening’s quiet would be shattered by the squeal of brakes, the grinding of metal on metal, the gruff shouts of men, as the massive train slid into Whistle Stop, Indian Territory.

Arms wrapped around her, jolting her from her reverie. Adele released a squeak of alarm before she recognized the voice whispering in her ear.

“Just what do you think you’re doing out here, Mrs. Gold?”

“I’m working, Mr. Gold,” she said, glancing back at his smiling visage. “And I have been working since five-thirty this morning. I let you sleep in because you looked so adorable. Like a little boy.”

“Hmmm.” Reno nuzzled her neck. “I might have
looked
that way to you, but I feel very much like a man.” He rocked his midsection against her. “Doesn’t that feel like a man to you?”

“Stop that,” she whispered fiercely, twisting from his embrace. “We’re in a public place!”

“So we are.” He acknowledged the dozen or so people eating breakfast and the two waitresses serving them. “Looks like you’ve got things running smoothly, so let’s leave this public place for our private little love nest.”

“I can’t. I have work to do.”

“You’re the boss, the queen. You can leave the work for the worker bees.” His eyes smoldered, reminding her of the delights of last night. “Come along, busy bee. You deserve a day off, don’t you? Consider it a”—he grinned—“honeymoon.”

Adele couldn’t help but laugh and be lured by his delectable offer, but she was ready to refuse until she caught Sally’s narrow-eyed, stinging glare. That did it. Adele untied her apron and hung it behind the counter.

“Colleen, I’m taking off the rest of the morning to deal with some personal business. I’ll check back in after the noon trade. You and Sally have this well in hand, but should you need me, I’ll be in my quarters.”

“Yes’m,” Colleen said, smiling brightly. “We can handle things in here today.” She dimpled at Reno. “You go on.”

“You said I could have the afternoon off,” Sally said. “I have a fitting scheduled.” She hiked up her chin. “For my wedding gown.”

Adele controlled the urge to sputter and lambast her. “I’ll relieve you of your afternoon shift, Sally, but I’m surprised you’re getting fitted this soon. Your wedding is months away.”

“Is it?” Sally arched her brows, defying that presumption.

“Don’t get started on this now,” Reno said, grasping one of Adele’s hands and leading her out of the restaurant and into her quarters.

“Did you hear that?” Adele fumed. “She as much as told me that she’s planning to be married before her contract has expired.”

“And you’re surprised?” Reno chided. “Sugar, you are one stubborn woman—and so is Sally Ann.” Taking her by both hands, he led her into the bedroom. “You broke my heart, Dellie.”

“Broke?” Adele shook her head. “How?”

“By letting me wake up this morning all alone in this cold bed.” He fashioned a pitiful expression. “I ’bout near wept.”

“I would have loved to have seen that,” she retorted with a disbelieving laugh. “You are a silver-tongued devil, Reno Gold.”

Oh yes, he is a devil, she thought, examining the dancing lights in his dark eyes and the wicked grin on his attractive mouth. Sweet temptation crooked its finger, and she answered by lifting her hands to her hair and plucking out the pins. She tossed them onto her dressing table and shook out her hair, laughing lightly when Reno clutched his chest and feigned a swoon.

“Darlin’, I could watch you do that all damned day.”

With memories of last night’s lovemaking swimming in her mind, Adele undressed slowly and allowed him to watch, though shyness painted her cheeks rosy and made her avert her own eyes from his. Her peripheral vision revealed to her that he was undressing, too. He hadn’t bothered with underwear. He’d known he could tempt her back into his arms and into bed.

When she had shed her final piece of clothing, he swept her off her feet and onto the bed. Lying beside her, he rained hot kisses over her face and breasts and stomach. Adele kept her eyes open this time. Last
night she had experienced his lovemaking blindly, too shy and overwhelmed to look at him or what their bodies were doing together. But now, with buttery sunlight seeping through the lacy curtains of her bedroom windows, she stretched like a cat and fastened her gaze on Reno’s head of midnight-black hair. His hands slipped over her skin like a breeze. She felt the abrasion of his morning whiskers on her stomach before he surged up her body to kiss her fully on the lips.

To be kissed by him was passion itself. His lips and tongue seduced her. The tip of his tongue tickled the corners of her mouth and his teeth nipped gently at her lower lip. He slanted his mouth one way and then another, gathering her in, making her his, centering her attention on the plucking, sucking kisses so that she hardly noticed when he laced the fingers of one hand with hers and brought that hand down between their bodies.