Authors: The Lone Texan
Jodi Thomas (16 page)
A tiny part of her mind told her she wasn’t young, she was an old maid. Foolish passion was for girls, not women of her age.
His grip was so tight, she knew he’d already left a bruise, but she didn’t care. He wasn’t hurting her, he was wanting her.
She straightened, pushing him a few inches away. He fought her action for a moment, then straightened back, giving her room. His eyes were on fire as he stared at her, but his hand moved back down her leg and slowly replaced the petticoat.
Her breath came so fast, she couldn’t speak. She’d never felt like this before, not for one minute. Not for one second.
He closed his eyes and rested his head on the back of the rocker. “If you’re waiting for me to say I’m sorry,” he finally said, “you’ll wait a hell of a long time.”
“Open your eyes,” she ordered.
He did. She could still see the fire blended with a sorrow, a longing, a pain she knew well.
Her hands trembled as she lifted them to the front of her camisole and began to unbutton the first button. “I’ve never been a selfish person,” she said as she pulled the first button free. “I’ve always thought of myself as a woman of simple needs.” The second button fell and then the third.
He didn’t move, but his eyes were no longer on hers.
She smiled as she tugged the next button free and felt the camisole fall open so that all but the tips of her breasts showed. “Tonight, I’d like to ask you for something, and before you answer, I’ll have you know that I’ll not settle for less. I want my one time, my one memory. Then I want your word you’ll take me back.” She had her life planned, organized. This would be her one step off the sidewalk.
His fingertips brushed the swell of one of her breasts. As he explored in slight movements, the fabric fell away, revealing her. He looked into her eyes so she could see his pleasure as his hand spread over her flesh.
She saw what she’d longed for in his gaze. She saw herself as beautiful.
“Name it,” he whispered. His eyes didn’t leave hers, but his hand closed around her. As he measured the width and weight of her in his palm, she drew in a quick breath at the shock of pleasure sparking through her body.
“Name it, I said.” His voice was raw with need and demanding.
She closed her eyes and answered, “Be my storm tonight. Be the one night I’ll never forget. Be the memory I’ll carry with me forever, and then promise at dawn we’ll part.”
His hand tightened, and she swayed with the sensation. She never dreamed a touch could spark her body so.
He dug his free hand through her hair and pulled her mouth to his. Now his kiss was free and wild with need, and his fingers moved over her breasts, branding them forever with his caress.
“Swear,” she said when he let her breathe. “Swear that you’ll keep your word. One night. One storm.”
He tugged her hair back, until she arched her body toward his, and sucked hard on one of her breasts. “I swear,” he whispered. “But you’ll be mine, all mine, tonight.”
“Yes,” she sealed the bargain with one word.
He picked her up and carried her to the bed, but he didn’t lie on top of her as she thought he would. He stretched beside her so that he could kiss her while he undressed her completely. One hand circled in her hair so that she’d remain still while he finished his task. She knew without asking that he was a man learning tenderness for the first time.
When she tried to reach for the blanket, she heard a low growl from him. “No,” he ordered. “There’ll be nothing between us. Not tonight.”
Then he kissed her so tenderly, she settled against him, letting him touch her wherever he liked. When he knew she’d calmed and grown used to his nearness, he pulled away long enough to undress. When he returned, he was above her, gently settling over her.
She jerked at the feel of skin against skin.
He took his time once again, allowing her to grow used to the feel of his body against hers. His rough hands moved over her as though he’d never touched anything so dear, and he wanted to savor the feel of her.
When she relaxed once more, he explored, slowly examining, kissing, tasting every part of her. There was a hunger to his actions that left her skin sensitive and aching for him to return.
“I’m going to go slow,” he whispered when he returned to her mouth for a deep, open kiss. Then he added, “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t,” she answered, hoping she spoke the truth.
She felt his words as he kissed the corners of her mouth. His hand had spread over her below her belly button. While he tasted her throat, his fingers started back to her breasts, where she knew he’d take his time learning every inch of her.
“I’m going to love you, Pretty Lady, and when we’re finished, I’m going to start all over again.”
And that’s exactly what he did.
CHAPTER 15
D
EEP IN THE SHADOWS OF THE NIGHT, BONNIE SLEPT soundly in the arms of her stranger. Mixing with her dreams, she felt him tug her legs open and move above her.
EEP IN THE SHADOWS OF THE NIGHT, BONNIE SLEPT soundly in the arms of her stranger. Mixing with her dreams, she felt him tug her legs open and move above her.
“No,” she mumbled, remembering how it had hurt when he’d entered her. Everything about the loving had been so perfect except the moment he’d shoved into her. “No,” she said, trying to push him away so she could return to sleep.
“Hush, love,” he whispered. His hands were moving over her most private places as if her body belonged to him. “You’re ready for me now. Go back to sleep. I’m just going to take my pleasure one more time. You’re mine tonight, remember.”
She couldn’t seem to pull fully awake. Hours without sleep and then hours of having her blood rushing through her body as he pleased her again and again had left her too weak to shake from dreams.
He pulled her arms above her head and moved his warm hands down the length of her. He knew her body well by now and proved it. “Dream, love. Just dream while I take you, for I have to have you again.”
Before she could answer, she felt him slide into her without pain, then he was moving above her, pushing harder and harder. The familiar fire she’d felt in her belly kindled, and she rocked with him, taking him deeper, loving the way her blood warmed and spread out into her limbs.
His hands came up her sides and gripped her tender breasts as he cried out with pleasure just as she felt like she rolled off the end of the earth. He jerked and pushed into her one last time as she took flight.
For a while she floated as his warm body blanketed her. She floated between heaven and earth, unable to move or speak.
He didn’t rise and wash her flesh as he had the first time. He simply rolled with her until she lay across him, too spent to move.
He cupped her bottom with one hand and moved his chin against her cheek. “Go back to sleep,” he ordered. “You’re mine tonight. All mine. I plan to touch you while you sleep, if you’ve no objection.”
She made a little sound, agreeing to his request, and he kissed her lips, now swollen from being kissed.
“I like the feel of you,” he said as he patted her bottom.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Did you feel the storm?” he asked.
“Yes,” she answered and felt his arms tighten. “And it was a thousand times more than I thought it would be.”
She felt his laughter against her chest.
“The night is not over yet.” His mouth explored her throat. “Sleep. I’ll wake you again before dawn.”
She didn’t answer; she was already asleep.
CHAPTER 16
S
AGE WAS STARTING TO LOSE TRACK OF TIME. SHE thought it was the fourth day when they camped at the edge of a canyon, but it might have been five. The air felt dry here, and the wind whistled as if whining along canyon walls. As the outlaws had every night, they tied her to whatever they could find that would hold her secure.
AGE WAS STARTING TO LOSE TRACK OF TIME. SHE thought it was the fourth day when they camped at the edge of a canyon, but it might have been five. The air felt dry here, and the wind whistled as if whining along canyon walls. As the outlaws had every night, they tied her to whatever they could find that would hold her secure.
But tonight was different. She could hear the man building a fire, establishing a regular camp for the first time. She guessed they thought it safe.
The man who brought her food was one who’d never spoken to her before. She thought he was one of the two men who’d been with them when they left Shelley’s, then they’d disappeared for a day and rejoined the gang. The two newcomers kept their distance and usually brought up the tail, but tonight they’d decided to move in closer, probably because of the fire.
He didn’t seem as hard as the others, but his eyes were still cold and uncaring. There was a wildness about him, as if a thrill to him was worth any price. He untied her hands but left the rope around her waist holding her to a stump. The noose now hung permanently around her neck so any one of them could pull her along without having to get so close she might kick. The rough rope was loose enough for her to breathe but too tight for her to tug it off.
“Thought you might want a real meal. Got rabbit and beans.” She smelled whiskey on the man’s breath, but that was better than the smell of Frog.
She nodded, trying to see anything around her that would give her a hint of where she was.
He handed her a tin bowl and a cup half-full of boiled coffee. “These men ain’t going to hurt you none,” the stranger said. “They told me so. They’re just taking you to the leader, then you’ll be let go, I figure.” He didn’t look like he believed his own words.
She would argue with that statement, but it would do her no good. Every bone in her body hurt from riding all day tied in a saddle and then sleeping at night tied up. If she didn’t walk fast enough when they stopped, the big man liked to jerk the rope hard enough to make her stumble. She doubted any one of the other men had noticed. For the most part, she wasn’t their problem.
When she finished eating, she thanked the man.
He hesitated. “Anything else I can do?” he whispered, then looked like he was sorry he’d offered.
“Could I have a comb before you tie my hands?” She needed one, but mainly she wanted to keep the man close enough to talk to.
He moved a few feet away and pulled a comb from his gear and handed it to her. “It ain’t very clean, but then neither is your hair.”
“Thank you,” she managed.
Sage worked through the rats in her hair. Finally, she parted it down the middle and braided it on either side.
She handed him back the comb.
“You look like an Indian,” he said as he tied her hands.
“Maybe I am,” she whispered.
He shook his head. “Charlie says you’re a doctor.”
“Who is Charlie?”
He moved his head slightly toward the redheaded giant she called Big Hands: the leader of the band, the cruel one.
Sage fought down a smile. She had a name. “I am a doctor,” she said to the only one of the men who’d spoken to her other than in orders. “Who are you?”
He stood, realizing he’d stayed too long. “Nobody. I’m nobody to you.”
She didn’t want to lose the one contact she’d made. This man was hard, but he seemed at least human. “What is the leader going to do with me?” She wondered if they knew about her family. The McMurrays were not rich, but compared to most ranches, they must look it. Maybe these outlaws thought they could get a ransom.
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