Devils on Horseback: Zeke, Book 3 (9 page)

“You’re too cynical by half, Zeke.” She laid her hand on his. “You need a good woman.” When she squeezed his hand, he pulled it away.

“What did you do to Naomi for starting the saloon brawl?” he blurted, uncomfortable with the implication Lucy wanted to be that woman in his life. He felt nothing but friendship for her.

“Do to her? I didn’t do anything to her.” Lucy stood and threw the rest of the cards at him. “You don’t care a thing about anyone but yourself.” Lucy stomped away, cursing him to hell and back. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs and came back, hands on hips. “What did
you
do to her?”

Leave it to Lucy to turn the tables on him. Zeke kept his expression blank. “I arrested her for starting the brawl.”

“I’m not sure that’s all you did.” Lucy might show the world one face, but she was extremely smart, maybe even as smart as Gideon. She had the ability to figure out things she shouldn’t. “She came back looking mighty worn out.”

“I only gave her something to eat, cornbread from the restaurant.” Zeke waved his hand in dismissal. “Just now she sashayed up to Ackerman and walked away like she was a working girl on the
street
. I want to know what you said or did to her. I can’t have that happening in Tanger.” That ought to make the town council happy with him.

“What Naomi does is her business.” Lucy clamped her mouth closed, a stubborn tilt to her pointy chin. “You’re trying to bully me.”

“I am not.”
Liar
.

“Zeke, when you get your head out of your ass, you come back and talk to me. For now, get the hell out.” Lucy pointed at the door and Zeke obeyed like a whipped dog.

He stepped back out into the morning air and took a deep breath, but it didn’t help. His gaze wandered back up the street to where Naomi had disappeared with Ackerman. Against his will, his feet turned and followed the woman who had taken up residence in his mind.

Naomi regretted taking Ackerman’s arm the second she touched him. He was cold and stiff like a frozen fish, which sent a shiver up her spine. Of course, the look on Zeke’s handsome face was almost worth it. He’d been angry, annoyed and confused at the same time.

Served him right. Pompous, arrogant ass that he was, he practically called her a whore right there on the street. Naomi was hurt and embarrassed by the whole thing and now she’d set herself up for breakfast with a total stranger.

By the time they arrived at Elmer’s, Ackerman had been talking nonstop about the hotel and how he hoped to make it a successful business by year’s end. To be honest, she heard every third word. The man sure did think highly of himself.

“How long have you lived in Tanger, Miss Tucker?” Ackerman asked as he held the door open for her.

“Just a week, Mr. Ackerman.” She walked in, half expecting Zeke to arrive any minute to berate her again.

Instead, a one-armed man gave her a disgusted look before he disappeared into the kitchen, shaking his head. She wondered who he was, and why he had been so openly hostile.

Ackerman led her to a table by the window, which suited her because her back was to the kitchen and the stranger’s assessing gaze.

“Have you eaten here?” Ackerman smiled, one that did not reach his eyes.

“Not really. Although the cornbread is delicious.” A memory of being with Zeke in the sweet shadows of the night, the taste and smell of all that was him, washed over her. A shudder ripped through her, leaving goose bumps and achingly hard nipples in its wake.

Ackerman didn’t even try to hide his interest. In fact, his gaze snapped straight to her breasts, lust evident on his pale face. Naomi was used to men disrespecting her, and this just confirmed her opinion the man was not worth her time.

Too bad she’d invited him for breakfast.

“What will you have?” A woman appeared beside the table. Her light brown hair was back in a bun and she watched them warily. If Naomi had to hazard a guess, this was Margaret, the cook who’d been recently hired. She had ghosts behind her dark eyes, ones that called out to Naomi’s own, creating an instant bond between them. A slight nod of the other woman’s head was the only acknowledgement of what Naomi felt.

“What do you have for breakfast in this establishment, madam?” Ackerman must not realize he sounded like a pompous fool.

“Eggs, bacon, biscuits, grits and coffee.” Margaret was definitely not one to be wordy.

“Eggs and a biscuit, please.” Naomi pointed to the thick white mug on the table. “And coffee too if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Ah, yes, I’ll have the same, but with bacon. I don’t suppose you have butter for the biscuits, do you?” He brought out a handkerchief and wiped at the wood table, brushing imaginary dirt and crumbs to the floor.

Naomi didn’t know how to react to such behavior, but Margaret did. She whipped a towel out from her apron and slapped it on the table hard, twice. Ackerman jumped a few inches off his chair while Naomi had trouble keeping a chuckle contained.

“There you go. Clean as a whistle.” Margaret tucked the towel away. “I’ll go get the coffee and butter.”

“She certainly needs better manners.” Ackerman tugged at his vest as he settled back into the chair. “I expect it’s going to take time to get used to Tanger and its residents.”

Naomi nodded. “I’m sure you’re right. Tanger is a mixture of all kinds of folks and we’ve all got something, er, different about us.” She wanted to point out he was already fitting in nicely, what with his weird habits and all.

“I can see that.” Ackerman met her gaze. “You, for example. Working at the saloon must be challenging for a beautiful woman such as yourself. You must be a busy girl.”

What he didn’t say was what Naomi heard. He thought her beauty led her right up the stairs to the bedroom, where she likely earned money on her back. She held onto her temper by a thread although it was a mighty thin thread.

“I work hard serving drinks and cleaning up. Lucy doesn’t expect anything else and I don’t provide it.” Her hands fisted in her lap.

“That’s good, very good. I’m glad to hear you are proud of your work. Women who enter the working world of men must always work hard to make up for their lack of strength and abilities.”

It was a good thing Margaret arrived with the coffeepot and a crock of butter because Naomi was ready to crack one of the mugs over Ackerman’s head. She’d spent her life fighting the prejudices against women, which had been heaped on her head by arrogant men.

“Ah, good, thank you, my good woman.” Ackerman pointed to his empty mug, proving once again he had no idea how to treat people.

After Margaret filled his mug, she offered a ghost of a grin to Naomi before filling hers. She decided to come back without the hotel man to get to know the older woman. A true friend would be welcome in Naomi’s lonely world.

By the time their eggs arrived, Ackerman still hadn’t run out of things to say about himself. Naomi considered poking herself in the eye with a fork to escape, but didn’t want to ruin the eggs or biscuit. They were absolutely delicious, even if the company wasn’t welcome.

“Naomi, my girl, you are a little distracted. Is everything all right?” He pointed at her plate. “You seem to be focused on your food and aren’t even looking up to speak.”

“I was quite hungry, Mr. Ackerman.” She glanced at his plate. “And you’ve done your fair share of eating and talking at once.”

The surprise in his eyes was followed by a wicked grin. “You’ve got an interesting sense of humor. I like it.”

“Thank you, I think.” Naomi shoved the last of the biscuit in her mouth. “I’ve got to be going.”

“Of course, of course.” He gestured to the table. “I hope you’ll allow me to pay for your meal.”

She stared into his eyes, trying to read what lurked behind them. Naomi had been the one to invite him to breakfast and intended to pay for her own food. His gesture either meant he expected something in return or he was a gentleman. She was inclined to believe the former.

“That wouldn’t be proper, Mr. Ackerman. I’ll pay my own way.” She looked around for Margaret.

“Nonsense. I insist.” Ackerman reached out and took Naomi’s hand, sending a cold shiver up her skin. “Please consider it a thank you for welcoming me to Tanger.”

It took every ounce of self-control not to yank her hand away and rub it on her dress to get rid of the feel of his soft, clammy skin. She was raised better than that, however much her circumstances had changed.

“If I accept a meal from you, folks will talk, and I don’t want to be beholden to you, so thank you, but no.” Naomi took her hand from his and stepped towards the kitchen.

“Admirable, but unnecessary. I wouldn’t expect anything from you.” Ackerman smiled, yet it didn’t feel genuine. “I’m afraid I must insist.”

The one-armed man appeared beside the table. “Why don’t you let your boyfriend pay for you, Miss Tucker? After all, you are spending time with him. It’s only fair you get paid for your time.”

Naomi’s temper bubbled up at his insinuations and before she could stop herself, she’d slapped him so hard, her hand stung from the contact. A red mark blossomed on his cheek beneath the muscle working in his jaw.

“That wasn’t very nice,” he ground out.

“Neither were you.” She turned and left the restaurant, sure the entire town would chase her out within days. Why couldn’t she just be a happy, sweet girl like Louisa? No, she had to be a hellion and get herself in trouble over and over again.

As Naomi walked down the street berating herself, she belatedly realized she had allowed Ackerman to pay for the meal after all. Stupid girl.

Chapter Six

The night air was thick with the smell of honeysuckle and the song of the cicada. Zeke walked through town doing his nightly rounds, but his mind was on Naomi. At three in the morning, the only two-legged creature about was the sheriff who couldn’t keep his mind on his job.

He found himself standing at the back stairs of the saloon, looking up at the corner room. Naomi’s room. She’d talked about getting the smallest space with the sloped ceiling and he’d known exactly where she slept. He’d stayed there on occasion when Lucy let him sleep off his frequent binges at Aphrodite’s.

The same bed now held the petite body of a saloon girl who’d taken up residence in his head. He’d thought endlessly of what could have happened during her breakfast with that Yankee. He’d avoided the restaurant, the hotel and the saloon all day.

Now here he was outside, his fists clenched so hard, his knuckles popped. Sweat blossomed on his brow as his need for Naomi, to touch her, kiss her, possess her, pulsed through him. He closed his eyes as a throbbing arousal built in his trousers.

The need for whiskey had never been as strong as this. It was as if he was possessed by something or someone. When he started to shake, Zeke groaned like an animal with his leg caught in a trap. After dredging more self-control than he thought he had, he turned and left. Sweat trickled down his back and neck while his dick screamed in protest. A howl rose up inside him, escaping as a moan from deep in his throat.

Anyone passing by might have seen a blond wolf instead of a man.

* * * * *

Naomi sat up in bed, a prickle of emotion sweeping over her. She looked around the small room, peering into the corners and finding nothing. However, the hackles on the back of her neck rose along with every hair on her body.

Zeke
.

It was as if she felt him nearby, which was loco, but true nonetheless. She slipped out of bed and padded to the window, the wood floor rough under her feet. With her heart pounding in anticipation, she pushed aside the sheet she’d hung as a temporary curtain.

The darkness below seemed absolute, the only light from the stars in the black velvet sky. The moon hadn’t risen yet and every building was asleep in the eerie gloom. The meager light from her candle barely permeated the shadows outside. She looked out for ten minutes, but nothing moved, the only sound the music of the night creatures.

She knew he was out there, somewhere, watching her. With a frustrated sigh, she walked back to bed, blew out the candle and lay down with a sigh.

Within minutes, her restlessness had not abated and she had the insane urge to take off her shimmy. So she did. With her naked on top of the covers, the slight cool breeze ruffled the sheet and slid over her skin. Goose bumps turned into arousal as she let her body take over.

Her nipples hardened into near painful peaks as a throb began in her lower belly. Of their own volition, one hand landed on a nipple while the other crept down her belly to the nest of curls below.

The first stroke of her finger in the moist folds of her sex made her moan. Tingles spread out from the contact. Her short breaths were the only sound in the room. She pinched her nipple as she stroked her clit.

She began to imagine it wasn’t her hands, that she was being aroused by a lover she knew, who knew her. Sensuous, sweet heat began to build in her core. She lifted her knees and spread her legs as far as they’d go. One finger, then two, slid into the part of her that ached for more than she could give herself.

When roughened hands covered hers, Naomi almost screamed. Zeke’s scent washed over her and a fresh burst of arousal slammed into her.

“Zeke,” she breathed.

“Shhh.” He raised her hand to his lips and licked her fingers. “Sweet as honey.”

She shivered at the touch of his tongue. Perhaps he was real, but maybe he wasn’t. It didn’t matter—he was there in her arms, in her bed, and nothing else was important.

If he was a ghost, he was a damn fine one. Calloused hands landed on her knees, rubbing in circles as they went up her thighs, moving closer and closer to that which pulsed and ached with need.

“You have such a pretty pussy.” He skimmed the edge of her nether lips, sending a jolt up her body straight to her nipples. “Do you mind if I have a taste?”

Naomi would have laughed if she’d had breath left in her body. Instead, she grabbed his hand and placed it on her mound.

He chuckled. “I guess that’s a yes.”

She waited in anticipation, her body thrumming with arousal. It seemed to be hours, but was only moments before two fingers ran up and down her wetness. She closed her eyes and absorbed the pleasure. He nudged at her thighs, spreading them wider, and her heated flesh nearly hissed in the cool night air as it was exposed.

The first touch of his tongue felt like a lightning strike. She almost jumped off the bed, bumping him with her hip. He pushed her back down and spoke to her like she was a wild mustang.

“Easy, girl, easy. Just enjoy the ride, little one.”

This time at the touch of his mouth on her, she closed her eyes and let herself go. She fell into a whirling pool of pleasurable feelings, all concentrated between her legs, until his hand crept up her stomach to her aching breasts. He cupped one breast as if weighing it, then pinched the nipple just as his teeth closed around her clit. Naomi gasped at the sensation, forcing herself to lie still and revel in the fact a man was pleasuring her.

His tongue swept up and down, licking and lapping at her as two fingers slid into her. Triple points of sweet ecstasy for her to enjoy. Each swipe of his tongue, each pinch and tweak of her nipple, drew her closer and closer to something amazing.

He seemed to know it because he slowed his pace, bringing her back from the edge. Her muscles tightened as he started his assault again. Lick, nip, suck, again and again.

“Now.” She could have said please, but her pride always got in the way. Instead she ordered him, and he obeyed.

Zeke latched onto her clit and sucked her as his tongue tickled it. It was extreme, intense and explosive. Her entire body clenched around his fingers as a wave of sheer ecstasy enveloped her. He held her down to the bed, licking and nibbling her, pulling pulse after pulse from her until she thought she’d faint.

He gentled his touch, releasing her nipple and removing his fingers from her convulsing pussy, licking her slowly.

“God, you’re amazing.” He kissed each thigh in turn while she lay on the bed, a boneless heap of smiling woman.

She heard the rustle of clothes as he undressed in the meager light. By the time he crawled on the bed, the stars behind her lids had faded and she remembered her name.

When his hard body lay atop hers, she came to life as if the most incredible orgasm of her life hadn’t just happened. Already she was panting in anticipation, eager to join with him again. Their night in the jail seemed like a million years ago.

Being completely naked with him on her bed was a much different experience, one filled with new sensations and delights. He had deliciously tickling hairs on his legs and chest, which rubbed on her skin, raising goose bumps as he moved against her, settling himself between her legs.

“Mmm, you feel good.”

He chuckled against her neck. “Not as good as you do. Damn, woman, I think I died and went to heaven.”

His hardened staff pressed against the entrance to her pussy, the mushroom tip teasing her with pleasure to come.

“Put it in.” She wiggled against him, trying to pull him inside her. Naomi sounded like a wanton, when Zeke was the only man she’d ever found pleasure with.

“Pushy, ain’t you?” He pinned her wrists to the bed and kissed his way down to her breasts. The nipples peaked, aching for his touch. His tongue circled them, keeping her panting for more. By the time he finally closed around the tip, she nearly had an orgasm from the warmth of his mouth, the rasp of his tongue and the nip of his teeth.

Sweet wet heat ran through her like liquid honey. The buzzing deep within her spiraled tighter and tighter as he made his way up to her lips. When his tongue entered her mouth, his cock entered her aching core, mimicking the movement.

Naomi pushed up to meet his thrust as he stretched her, filled her, showed her what it meant when a woman was ready for a man. It was sheer magic to her, a feeling of completeness she hadn’t experienced with a man before. He moved in and out in a rhythm designed to make her wild.

She scratched at his back, eager for him to go deeper and harder. Her muscles clenched, needing something else, but she wasn’t experienced enough to know what.

“Zeke,” she gasped. “I need…God, I don’t…”

“I know, little one. I understand.” He pushed her knees up, opening her wide. When he landed deep inside her, Naomi found what she needed.

As they rode the waves of pleasure together, she held on with both hands to her soul, but the winds of their passion and yes, love, swept it away to merge with his. It wasn’t God or anyone else’s name she called as her second peak hit with the force of a twister. It was Zeke’s.

The room was silent except for the sound of their breathing. The air was thick with the smell of sex and body heat. Naomi was truly stunned by what happened, and she wanted answers from her two-time lover.

“Why did you come to me?”

He rolled to his side, bracing his head with one hand. In the dim light, she couldn’t see the expression on his face. “I couldn’t seem to stay away.”

She didn’t understand his answer. “Did you try to stay away?”

“I’m risking my job being here. I made a promise to the town council to uphold the law and keep away from women and whiskey. You made me break that promise.” He picked up a lock of her hair and brought it to his nose.

“I didn’t make you do anything.” She frowned. “You came to my bed, remember?”

After a beat of silence, he sighed. “I couldn’t forget even if I tried.”

“I am still mad at you for how you treated me in front of Mr. Ackerman. You were an ass.” Naomi sat up, fresh annoyance slipping through her sensual haze.

Zeke sat up too. “I don’t like or trust the man. He’s up to no good.”

She noticed he hadn’t apologized. “And?”

“And I’m sorry.” He sounded pained. “I— Well— You— Hell, I don’t know what I’m saying.” Zeke put his head in his hands.

Naomi’s anger deflated in an instant, and she was reminded of the bond that had developed during the night at the jail. Not just the sexual one, but the emotional one. Each of them had survived the aftermath of the war in the south, had lost their homes, their families, to be cast adrift.

Now the drifting souls had found each other. She didn’t know what it meant, but it frightened her.

* * * * *

Zeke sipped his coffee as he watched Margaret bustle around the restaurant getting it ready for the breakfast crowd. It was early, with the pink shards of the sunrise just fracturing the sky. He hadn’t been to bed and counted on the coffee to get him through the day.

His body was well sated after climbing into Naomi’s bed the night before. God only knew what possessed him to do it. However, he knew it couldn’t happen again. She couldn’t become a habit, a mistake that could bring him down.

“Breakfast?” Margaret startled him. He hadn’t even heard her approaching.

“Don’t think my gut could handle much.” He lifted the mug. “This here’s all I need, and it’s damn good too.”

The ghost of a smile flitted across her face. “I’ll get you a biscuit to go with it. That’s your brother’s coffee and it’s thicker than mud.”

Zeke hadn’t known Lee was up or that he could make such good coffee. Wonders never ceased.

The door to the restaurant opened and the bell jingled at the movement. Zeke glanced up to see a fresh-faced young man wearing a minister’s collar and a huge smile. He reminded Zeke of Gideon a long time ago, before the war had stolen that youthful look. He even had wavy brown hair like his cousin.

“Good morning, sir. I wondered if the restaurant was open.” The drawl of a Midwestern state echoed in the minister’s voice.

“Come on in. I’m sure we could scare up some vittles for you.” Zeke watched as the young man loped in. He was like a puppy with paws too big for his body. Long, lanky and full of what Zeke could only think of as joy, the kid came in nearly tripping on his own big feet.

“Thank you kindly. I arrived very late last night and I haven’t eaten since yesterday’s breakfast.” He held out his hand. “Gregory Conley.”

“Zeke Blackwood. Please sit down and join me.”

After shaking his hand, the young man plopped down in the chair at the table. He pointed to the star on Zeke’s shirt.

“You are the sheriff in town?”

“Yep, that I am. You’re a preacher?” Zeke watched Margaret out of the corner of his eye as she brought a plate with biscuits on it. She slowed just a moment when she spotted Gregory, but kept walking.

“Good morning, ma’am.” Gregory eyed the fluffy biscuits with a hungry gaze.

“Mornin’.” She set the plate on the table and nodded to the kid. “You new in town or passing through?”

“Oh, I’m new in town. I want to set up a church here in Tanger. I heard there was no preacher in town and well, here I am.” He talked fast enough to put a knot in his tongue.

“We surely need some spiritual guidance.” Margaret, to Zeke’s surprise, seemed to warm to Gregory immediately. She hadn’t spoken much to anyone, yet here she was chatting with the young minister.

“I thought I’d just start by meeting everyone and then worry about where we could hold services. It’s beautiful here. I think I’ve come to the right place.” Gregory smiled at Zeke.

Zeke didn’t want to, but the boy’s enthusiasm coaxed a smile out of his creaky face. “I think you have too.”

Lee walked in with coffee in hand, papers tucked under his arm. “You know, Gideon couldn’t cipher if you held a gun to his head. These accounts are a fucking mess.”

“Gregory, this is my foul-mouthed brother Lee. Lee, this is Gregory Conley, a preacher new in town.” Zeke enjoyed the emotions that crossed his brother’s face. In the end, Lee set everything down and stuck out his hand to the man.