Promises Linger (Promise Series) (8 page)

“You wear this often?”

“No decent woman would leave the house without it. Could you please remove your hand?”

He looked at her closely. “Am I hurting you?”

She swallowed twice before she managed the lie. “Yes.”

He moved his hand gently under her breast. It probably labeled him a bastard, but the feel of that soft resilient flesh curving into his palm had his cock painfully hard and straining. Near as he could tell, the iron-like contraption she called a corset wrapped under each breast, imprisoning it. He remembered Jimmy’s grip, the way he’d ground her flesh around. “Shit. Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt that bad?”

She didn’t offer an answer. “Please take your hand away.”

He did, but only to set to work on the buttons of her dress. Her hands caught his.

“Please.”

“I aim to see how bad that bastard hurt you.”

“I’m fine.”

“Prove it.”

She closed her eyes. When she opened them, the wildness was gone. Poker-faced, she asked, “Is that an order?”

“Yes.”

In the controlled voice he remembered from Dell’s, she asked, “Do you mean to strip me bare in the kitchen or could I move to the privacy of the bedroom?”

His neck heated as he realized, with the kerosene lamps burning, anyone could see into the kitchen. He cleared his throat. “The bedroom is fine.”

“Could I be allowed a moment of privacy or would you like to tear my dress off yourself?”

The disdain in her voice flicked him on a raw spot. He was tempted to strip her just to prove who was boss, but then he remembered she was a woman married to a stranger and this was her wedding night. To top it off, she’d just been accosted.

He nodded to the bedroom. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

* * * * *

Instead of five minutes, he gave her ten. From the expression on her face when he walked into the room, that might have been a mistake. She looked like a cornered wildcat, ready to lash out at the least provocation. Considering the direction his thoughts had taken while waiting for time to pass, he’d probably give her provocation aplenty.

“It’s been longer than five minutes,” she growled from the rocking chair where she sat hunched, a sheet clutched so tight in her hands, her knuckles were white.

“Must be my watch stopped.”

Her chin came up and her back straightened. “Do you even own one?”

“Nope.” He closed the door behind him. A glance at the window revealed the yellow drapes were pulled tight. Three strides brought him to her side. She took a shuddering breath. Pity touched his heart. “You know, if a stranger walked up to me and asked me to drop my pants, I’d be hard put not to put a bullet between his eyes.”

Her smile was feral. “Apparently, we’re alike, Mr. MacIntyre, because, at this moment, I would very much enjoy putting a bullet in you.”

He snagged a finger under the sheet where it touched the bottom of her chin. “I imagine you would.” He tugged gently. She took one deep breath and never let it out. The sheet slowly expanded, sliding off her shoulders. When it pooled around her waist, he ordered, “Breathe.”

“I could hate you for this.”

“I bet you could.” Truth was, she didn’t have much to hate him for. He couldn’t see beyond the frilly bits of material that cupped her breasts, the ruffled lace shuddering against her pale skin as she fought to keep her breathing even. He touched a ridge of what he supposed was her corset. “I thought I told you to get rid of this.”

She glared at him. “You told me to take off my dress so you could see my bruises.”

He smiled at her hair splitting. “So I did.”

He slid his finger under the bit of lace. She stared at a point beyond his shoulder as he pulled it away from her skin. The exposed nipple puckered immediately. It was a very tempting sight. He touched the tip of his finger to the tip of her breast. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“It wouldn’t matter if you did.”

“No. I suppose it wouldn’t.” And that was a hell of a note on which to start his wedding night. He pinched her nipple delicately. Her eyes flew to his and her lips shaped around a soundless “Oh.”

He made a mental note of her sensitivity while his free hand coaxed her lower body closer to his. It was his turn to groan when her soft belly cuddled his cock. The heat of her skin scorched him through his denim. As a result, his grip on her nipple tightened. She jerked in reaction, her body surging against his creating an exquisite friction that had him clenching his teeth. He wanted that nipple in his mouth. Between his teeth. He wanted his cock buried deep in her sweet cunt, relishing her climax as he bit down lightly. He twisted her nipple gently before reluctantly letting her go to tug on the edge of the corset.

“This contraption is going to have to come off.” His voice was a hoarse parody of his normal drawl.

She sucked in another shuddering breath, but didn’t pull away. “Why can’t you take my word for this?”

“I’m not the trusting sort.” And he very badly wanted to see her breasts.

“Just my luck,” she answered sarcastically.

He smiled, regaining his voice. “You married a very thorough man, darlin’.”

He snuggled his finger into the valley between her breasts beneath the corset. A quick tug emphasized his order to stand up. His opinion of his bride went up as she did as he ordered. Were their places switched, he didn’t know if he’d have been capable of such control.

“Let go of the sheet.”

He could tell she tried. He took pity on her. After all, modesty wasn’t a bad quality for a man’s wife to possess.

“Cotton can be a bit mule-tempered, can’t it?”

Instead of soothing her, the softness of his voice set loose her temper.

“Damn you! Stop torturing me.” She threw the sheet to the floor. He only had a second to appreciate the generous curves emphasized by her undergarment before she was muttering, twisting this way and that, yanking on ties he couldn’t see and tossing the corset in this face.

“You wanted the corset? There it is!”

He pulled the stiff garment away from his face. The spot where it had struck above his eye stung. “I guess if you can move like that, you weren’t hurt too bad.”

She stamped her foot, causing her breasts to bounce enticingly. “I believe I already told you that.”

He brought the corset to his nose, breathing her scent. “So you did.” He tossed the garment to the floor.

He knew the precise moment her anger gave way to caution. It was when he sat on the bed and took off his left boot. When it dropped to the floor, her pulse took to racing in her throat, but she didn’t move to cover herself with her hands.

“I don’t suppose there’s any point in asking you to wait until we get to know one another?”

“Nope. Seeing you get rid of one husband due to lack of performance doesn’t incline me in that direction.”

She sighed and clenched her hands into fists. “I was afraid of that.”

He dropped his other boot to the floor and tugged off his socks. “Anything else you’re afraid of while we’re on the subject?”

Her chin came up. “Would it make any difference if there were?”

He stuffed his socks in his boots and patted the bed beside him. “Come here.”

Her chin came up another notch. “Is that an order?”

“Nope. That was more in the line of a request.”

“Why?”

“Because I thought you might like to talk a bit.”

“I wasn’t aware talking was part of,” she waved her hand descriptively, “this.”

“Now that we’re on the subject, just what do you know of ‘this’?”

“Enough.” Her arms crossed over her chest. “I’ve seen animals procreating.”

He could imagine what that impression left her braced for. “Any chance you caught a glimpse of your folks?”

Her response was an emphatic, “No.”

“Any chance you’ve done any of this before?” he asked as he unbuttoned his shirt.

“Are you calling me loose?” She looked ready to throw the wash basin at him.

“Hell, no! I was just checking the level of your experience.”

“Any gaps in my experience are more than made up through observation and practical intelligence.”

The woman was holding onto her composure through sheer willpower, but he’d eat boot leather if her “observations and practical intelligence” had her anywhere near the reality of his lovemaking.

“Could we just get this over with now?” interrupted his thoughts.

He got to his feet, dropped his shirt to the floor, and pulled her into his arms. She stood stiff as a board. He smiled at the silent protest. “Going down fighting, huh?”

He wasn’t surprised when she didn’t answer. He stroked his hand down her hair, working it loose from its makeshift knot.

“I won’t lie to you, Elizabeth,” he said as her hair spilled down her back and over his hand like liquid silk. “I am going to make love to you tonight. Most of the things I’m going to do will embarrass you. Some of them, hopefully, will make you feel good. A few might scare you, but nothing I intend is supposed to hurt. If it does, you have my permission to wallop me and scream blue murder.”

He thought the snort that preceded her “A lot of good that will do me,” might have been laughter. He tugged on her hair, hoping to see her face. She had damn strong neck muscles.

“I’m not looking at you,” she informed him when he tugged again.

“Why?”

“Because I want to talk.”

“About what?”

“I want to know about the scary things.”

“Not the ones that’ll make you feel good?”

“If they feel good, I’m not going to mind them, am I?”

“No arguing your logic, darlin’.”

“So?”

“Well, it’s going to be tough to pick them out random-like.”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t need to hit me.”

Aw, shit! He rested his chin on top of her head, remembering what the gambler had done. “I don’t hit, darlin’.”

“Then what do you do?”

He rocked them subtly, enjoying the drag of her pert nipples across his skin, amazed she was still in his arms, terrified as she must be. Facing down a man in a bedroom wasn’t something most ladies were schooled in. “I usually start with kissing.”

“On the mouth?”

“Yeah, but I imagine I’ll work my way down to your neck and then your…” He couldn’t think of a word that wasn’t offensive, so he just plunged in with the truth. “your breasts.”

“You want to put your mouth on my bosom?” Her scandalized whisper seared his skin.

“Yeah,” he confirmed huskily. “I’d definitely want to do that.”

Her forehead rubbed back and forth against his chest as she thought on that. “You wouldn’t bite?”

Lord above! What kind of animal did she think he was! “You might feel my teeth a time or two, but no. I’m not the biting kind.”

He thought she relaxed a bit. “How would you do it?”

She was killing him with the images she brought to mind. His cock was so hard, he was afraid he’d shatter. He couldn’t resist dragging his thumb across the plump nipple so close to his hand. It might have been his imagination, but he thought she pressed closer. “I’d start out real gentle-like, brushing my lips across your nipple. A woman can be very sensitive there.”

She slapped him on the chest. Not hard enough to hurt, but it definitely got his attention. “I meant how would you do…‘it’.”

He remembered her reference to animals and smiled despite himself. “There are many ways for a man and woman to enjoy each other, but this first time, I think I’ll settle on the standard.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

Tenderness overwhelmed him. It must’ve just about killed her to admit that. His wife was a proud woman, and he was a jackass for teasing her. He resumed his stroking of her hair. “Basically, you lie on your back and I come over you.” He cleared his throat, feeling the back of his neck heating. “Between your legs,” he clarified.

“Oh.”

“Do you have any more questions?”

She nodded.

“What then?”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather wait?”

After talking about it this long, she’d be lucky if he waited until he got to the bed. “I’m positive.”

“Then could we just get it over with?”

He slid the straps of her camisole off her shoulders. “I hate to burst your bubble, darlin’, but a thorough man doesn’t hurry on his wedding night.”

If he hadn’t found it so amusing, her softly uttered “rats” would have ground his confidence into dust.

Chapter Four

No, Elizabeth decided as Asa stared at her bosom, he definitely wasn’t a hurrying man. She’d had her eyes closed for three counts of fifty, and he still hadn’t progressed past the looking part. She took a deep breath. It caught halfway down her parched throat and sent her into a coughing fit. She would have latched onto the distraction if her husband hadn’t decided to cure her fit with well-placed slaps between her shoulder blades, the first of which sent her straight into dangerous territory. The bed.