Desire in Deadwood (2 page)

She wanted to be touched.

She knew that Nate saw all of this and she surrendered to the urge to look at him. She scanned his form, from his dusty black boots, up his long legs in their pinstripe pants and arrived at his groin.

She whipped a protective hand across her chest.

“What do you see Mrs Campbell?”

His arousal was evident, bulging against the crotch of his trousers and he smiled as she stared at it.

“It remembers you too.” He rubbed at the swelling, gripping it tightly. “It remembers you very well.”

“I…” Evelyn wrapped her arms around her quivering body. Her heart beat quickly and her breathing was shallow. Her nipples throbbed and between her legs she was suddenly wet.

Images of their lovemaking burst through the fog in her mind like delicious little shocks, their clarity making her breathless—Nate’s hard muscular chest, his skin bronzed by the sun, the muscles in his arms bulging as he lifted her and lowered her into the hay, their naked limbs entwined as he rocked her to her own explosive climax, before emptying his hot seed over her belly. All these things and more she allowed herself to remember.

“Do you remember it, Mrs Campbell?” He seemed to read her thoughts. He leant forward. “Do you remember how it was between us?”

“Yes, oh yes, Nate.”

She stared at him as he unbuckled his gun belt and she shivered as it clinked against the buttons on the waist band of his trousers. The creak of the buttons being freed from their holes increased her heartbeat and she held her breath, wondering what Nate was about to do.

He reached into his trousers, then looked up and held her gaze. She was unable to fight the urge to look down and she gasped as he freed his magnificent erection then circled it with his hand.

“Show me your breasts, Mrs Campbell,” he whispered then moistened his lips.

She gawked at his groin, mesmerised by the long pink shaft with its purple and blue veins and shiny mushroom head. He held her attention as he moved his hand slowly but firmly up and down his impressive male flesh. How she had loved to be impaled upon it. How she would love to be impaled upon it now.

“Pull down your chemise and reveal yourself to me. I want to see your skin.”

For a moment she considered refusing but her desire was too powerful. She pushed her hair back then slid her chemise down so that it hung over her corset. Then she stood, waiting.

“Mrs Campbell,” Nate groaned as he looked at her. “You look so good. I do believe that your breasts are even bigger than before.”

Heat flooded Evelyn’s cheeks but she was pleased by his evident approval.

He wriggled in his seat then shifted his trousers lower so that his male form was totally exposed. While he fondled his shaft with one hand, he cupped his balls with the other and Evelyn struggled to stay on her feet. Her legs trembled with her growing desire.

“Now stroke your tits,” he growled. “Imagine that I’m holding them.”

She lifted her hands and cupped her heavy bosom. Nate groaned in response to her actions and it spurred her onwards. She stroked gently at first, underneath then round to the valley that lay between them. When she moved her fingertips to her nipples, she realised that her hips had begun to sway as if to a silent tune. She circled then pinched, pulling her rosy buds outwards as if offering them to Nate and when she glanced up again, she recognised the longing in his eyes for the same need burned fiercely throughout the whole of her being.

“Does it feel good, Mrs Campbell?”

She nodded, allowing a ghost of a smile to drift across her lips. She needed more now but she had to wait for his order.

He knew.

“Now show me.”

She needed no further encouragement. She knew what he meant. She lifted her skirts to her thighs with one hand then used the other to push down her bloomers. They slid to her ankles, trapping her feet but she was too lost in her need to care.

“Show me more.”

With both hands she lifted her skirts higher. A voice shouted out at the back of her mind, telling her that this was wanton, lustful, unacceptable behaviour. But she shut it out and allowed the pulsing of her swollen labia to rule her conscious thought.

She began to sway again, very gently. Nate moaned as he looked at her exposed sex and Evelyn watched in wonder as he gripped his darkened member in both hands. She licked her lips as he rolled a thumb over the end, spreading the droplet of moisture that she recalled as salty yet sweet—his own delicious lubricant.

Before she was fully aware of what she was doing, she felt her fingers slide between her silken folds and begin the steady movements that would lead her towards fulfilment.

Nate gasped at her actions and she felt suddenly empowered. He wanted this, to see her touch herself and she realised that she wanted him to watch her. She rubbed at the engorged lips and probed the entrance to her depths. As she lifted her hips to allow herself access, she watched as Nate’s pace increased. She slid first one finger then two into her warmth, roaming, plunging, wiggling.

Her own caress grew more insistent and she rubbed and probed faster, feeling her clit swell beneath her touch until it hardened and her whole body shuddered as she imagined Nate filling her with his throbbing organ and making her whole. The combination of her own touch and the image of Nate’s cock joined with hers was too much and she hurtled suddenly and deliciously over the edge, thrown with a cry into the abyss of ecstasy where she momentarily lost all awareness of time and place.

As her climax ebbed and her shaking subsided, she became aware that Nate had reached his own orgasm and she sighed as his cock jerked and he leant forward, his hot sweet seed spilling out onto the floor. He slumped over his knees as if totally spent.

Evelyn stood, still exposed, frowning in concern at his lack of movement.

“Mr Hamilton?”

He pulled a handkerchief from his waistcoat pocket and wiped his hands.

“Mr Hamilton?”

He glanced at her and motioned for her to cover herself. He looked dazed, confused and even ashamed.

“So now we know, eh?” He tucked his waning erection into his trousers and buttoned them up. “You do remember how good it was between us.”

“Yes, Nate,” she whispered and she reached out towards him, her heart beginning to open as the memories flooded in. Tears stung her eyes and blurred her vision. She wanted to feel safe again, that the future held some promise of happiness. She wanted, no needed, to fall into his arms and to be held against his chest, to be loved until the sun set and she knew that he would never let her go.

When he rose and moved towards her she opened her arms, expecting to feel his strong hug enveloping her, his face pressed against her hair, his renewed erection rock hard against her groin.

Instead, there was a draught as he walked past her and stood at the door.

“Our time is up.” His voice was low, soft, dangerous. “Get dressed. I’ll see you here at the same time tomorrow.”

The door banged against the frame as he pulled it behind him and Evelyn stood alone.

Walking down the wooden staircase and into the bar of the Gem, Nate combed a hand through his hair then pressed his hat onto his head. He needed a drink.

“What’ll it be, Mr Hamilton?” Dan Doherty stood behind the bar polishing a glass.

“Whisky.”

Nate took the glass and swigged, savouring the sting as it flooded through his mouth and down his throat. Though he didn’t drink much, he could understand why some men did. Sometimes life was so darned hard a man needed to drown it out and escape the pain.

“Another?”

Nate nodded.

“So how was she?” Dan pushed his hat back on his head and leaned over the bar, exposing yellow teeth in a crooked grin.

Nate glared at him. “What?”

“That Mrs Campbell. She look as good with ‘er clothes off?”

Nate balled his fists at his sides and ground his teeth together but his reply was controlled and assured. “Mind your business, Doherty. I’m paying for the use of that room and what goes on in there is none of your business. Al promised me discretion and you a beating if you fail to keep your flapper shut.”

Dan shrugged then turned to a rowdy group of men who’d just come in, muttering as he did so, “Ye get the mitten then did ye, Mr Big Bug.” Then he hawked and spat on the floor, missing the spittoon.

Nate rested his elbows on the bar, moving his empty glass between his hands. When Doherty moved to refill it he put his hand over the top and shook his head. It wouldn’t do to get drunk—he couldn’t afford to lose control right then. Who knew what he’d do with Evelyn around and his mind in turmoil. Sober, he could just about cope but inebriated he might well surrender to the ache in his heart.

He turned his head to the side as one of the newcomers stood a bit too close and his sour sweat stung Nate’s nostrils. Goddamn these miners stank.

“So you guys here for the show or the pussy?” Dan questioned the miners as he filled their glasses.

“I was hopin’ to enjoy the show then get meself a bit o’ that fine pussy out back,” a recently arrived Irish immigrant replied.

“Well you’re in the right place fellas,” Dan slammed the whisky bottle down on the bar. “Now where are them damned whores?”

Nate watched as Doherty walked away, hollering female names. As if by magic, half-naked young women began to appear around the bar, their clothes soiled and torn, their sullen faces heavily painted. They plastered on smiles as they approached the men and wrapped themselves around them, acting as if they’d found their future husbands and wanted to give them a wedding night preview. It turned his stomach to see the men pawing at breasts and thighs and treating the women like prize cuts of meat.

He plonked his money on the bar next to the glass then walked out into the hot and dusty Deadwood evening, shaking his head at the sorry state of affairs that was the Gem Saloon.

* * * *

Evelyn stood at her window in the Grand Central Hotel, looking out onto the street below. Dusk had fallen on the camp and the residents had lit their kerosene lamps which hung from their hooks like dead men in the breathless evening. By twilight, the camp seemed calm and even pretty with its gentle lighting and the dark shapes of the mountains as its backdrop. Maybe it was because she’d felt rootless for so long, or maybe it was because Nate was here, but Evelyn felt that she could settle in Deadwood, make it her home. Growing up she’d believed that her home would always be with Nate and she wished that she could believe that again, even if just for a moment. To have that security, that infallible awareness that she was with the man that destiny had chosen for her, would still the pain in her heart and mind.

She shrugged the thoughts away. No use crying over spilt milk. Nothing to gain from it. What was done was done and she had to pin her bloomers to her corset and get on with it, as her granny used to say.

The main street teemed with people as miners returned to their lodgings to wash before supper and prospectors trudged heavily along the dry, potholed track to fall into a restless slumber filled with images of the gold pocket they’d find the next day. A few painted whores sidled up to passers-by to try to entice them into their establishments for whisky, gambling and a hot lay. Evelyn shivered as the interested men kissed and touched the women as only a lover should. She moved behind the curtain when Nate appeared, his long strides bringing him quickly in front of the hotel. He stopped as a man waved at him then joined him in the street. She thought she recognised Nate’s companion as the sheriff but she couldn’t be sure.

“Mama?”

Evelyn turned to her son.

“Yes, Aaron.”

“Can I go downstairs?”

She shook her head. “You know we talked about this.” Even though he was ten years old and tall for his age, she still fretted constantly for his safety.

“But I’ll be careful. I just want to take a look around, see if…”

His cheeks coloured.

“You want to see if you can charm a cake off the cook, don’t you?”

He looked down.

“Well go on but don’t disappear. I’ll be down for dinner soon as I’ve changed.”

Shaking her head, she watched as he grabbed his hat and ran to the door then turned and gave her a cheeky smile.

She laughed and waved her hand. “Go on…before I change my mind!”

As the door closed behind him, she turned back to the window, pressing her finger tips against the cool pane of glass. Nate was still deep in conversation.

She was finding it hard to believe that she had come here to Deadwood and bumped into him after all this time. She had spent years thinking about him, dreaming about him and wanting him. But now that she’d been with him again, it wasn’t at all how she had imagined—he was like a stranger.

His face was still handsome, his eyes still dark brown, but they were hard now and his forehead was lined as if he’d spent too long frowning in the sun.

And he was angry with her. Still. She couldn’t blame him but she wished that she could go back in time and change things, stop herself walking into marriage with another man.

But that was impossible.

Her stomach rolled over as she thought of his final words to her that afternoon.

I’ll see you at the same time tomorrow.

She needed the money to support her and Aaron. She had no other means of keeping a roof over their heads. Her pride and conscience had seen to that.

That was why she’d have to go. So why did the thought of seeing him again make her tingle all over?

* * * *

As she hurried along the street, Evelyn kept her shawl wrapped tightly around her hair, her head down. She didn’t want to be recognised, questioned about where she was going at two in the afternoon. Not that she knew many people in Deadwood by name yet. But she knew that they knew of her and she didn’t want to fire their curiosity even further.

In a town where men still outnumbered women, she knew that she was attracting attention with her womanly curves and golden hair. She knew that a lot of the miners and prospectors were worn down with work and broken dreams and the comfort of a woman’s body was a coveted prize. She had to be careful, not all of them lived by the same gentlemanly code of conduct. All she wanted to do was keep Aaron safe and help him grow into a big strong man but she knew that the odds were stacked against her. Every mother did.