The Stranger's Secrets (22 page)

“No, just bruised from the fall. He tried to choke me, but I cut his throat and he bled to death first.” She touched the back of his head gently. “Are you all right?”

Whitman nodded, then hugged her again. He’d almost lost her again, this time to a murderous bastard instead of his own stupidity.

But no more. The last demon to inhabit the blackness of their past was now truly dead.

Life would begin again for Whitman and Sarah.

After the sheriff had left with Booker’s corpse and Eppie had tended to Whitman’s wounds, there was a collective sigh of relief in the house.

Eppie convinced Sarah and Whitman to take a bath. There was a modern bathing room in the house, which had running water pumped in.

Whitman had used them in New York and Washington, but it was a special treat for Sarah. She had wiped most of the blood from her face and hands, but her clothes were stained with it.

She allowed Whit to carry her up the stairs, although she knew his ribs hurt and he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Sarah was still amazed they were both alive and had come out of the deadly confrontation with wounds that would heal.

Now they needed to heal the wounds on the inside.

The bathing room had white and blue tile and an enormous claw-foot tub. Whit set her down on the stool and closed the door. He had a bandage wrapped around his head, which gave him a look of mystery. At least that’s what Sarah told him anyway.

He waggled his finger at her. “Now you sit right there while I get the bath ready.”

“Yes sir.” She saluted and made a face at him.

While he ran the hot water, Sarah watched. True to her word, she didn’t move from the stool. Her body ached in places she forgot about. A bath would be heavenly.

As the tub filled, Whit pulled off his shirt, revealing a rainbow of bruises on his chest. She sucked in a breath and gestured for him to come closer.

When he was near enough, she reached out and kissed the bruises she could. He touched the top of her head and sighed.

“Magic kisses.”

She smiled against his skin and looked up at him. “How about you undress me too, oaf?”

He knelt down in front of her. “As you wish, my lady.”

Whit took off her clothes slowly, kissing her exposed skin as he went. Sarah had never felt more cherished or more loved. He stood her up to remove her skirt and drawers, leaving nothing but her hair to cover her nude body.

He was eye level with her legs when he looked up at her. “Magic kisses.”

When his lips touched her ropy scars, Sarah couldn’t contain the tears. She’d cried so much the last week, she was surprised there were any left, but they arrived just the same.

Whitman had been all she hated, resented, and avoided. Now he was everything she loved, wanted, and needed.

He stood and shucked his trousers, then scooped her into his arms. “Your bath is waiting.”

Whit lowered her into the tub slowly and the warmth of the water enveloped her sore, tired body. The tub, built for two, was even large enough to fit Whitman.

He climbed in behind her and soon she was surrounded by heat and man. Two tantalizing combinations.

Whitman had silently bathed her long ago in Kentucky, apologizing to her with his hands, letting her know he cared for her well-being.

This time it was so much more. It was a symphony of soap and hands, massaging, soaping, and rinsing until her skin squeaked beneath his strong fingers.

He played with her nipples until they ached, then left them to land his hands between her legs. The day had begun with sadness and it was ending with love and sex.

She couldn’t have asked for anything more.

He spread her legs as far as they’d go, then dipped his fingers into her pulsing pussy. He found her eager clit easily and began circling it, teasing her.

The other hand dipped lower and two of his fingers slid into her. She gasped as tingles raced up her skin straight to her nipples.

“God, you feel good.”

“Mmm, so do you, kitten.” He nibbled at her earlobe. “When I first met you I thought you hissed like a cat. Now I know you purr like one too.”

Sarah arched into him, eager for the pleasure he gave her. His cock was hard against her back. She wanted to taste him, to bite him, to feel him enter her.

He fucked her with his fingers while he played her clit like a musical instrument. Faster and harder until she came, splashing water and pressing against his staff behind her.

Stars swam behind her closed lids as his hand gentled, bringing her back to earth.

“If you don’t fuck me now, I’ll never forgive you.”

Whit chuckled against her ear. “God, I love you, woman.”

She harrumphed and shifted against his cock. “I mean it. Now, Whitman.”

“As you wish, my lady.” He stood, the water sluicing from his nude body. His erection stood tall and proud above his firm balls.

She couldn’t help herself. Sarah turned around quick enough to grab the base of his staff and pull him into her mouth.

He groaned and braced himself against the wall on his left. “Jesus Christ.”

“No, I told you before, it’s Sarah.” She laved the head, paying close attention to the underside, tickling him with her tongue. “You taste good, Yankee.”

He managed a croak in response.

Sarah chuckled, pleased to have the large man at her mercy. It was empowering, it was amazing, it was incredibly arousing.

She squeezed the base as she lowered her mouth, alternately nibbling and licking as she went. A slow, excruciating pace designed to make him wild.

He groaned and shook beneath her touch.

“Feel good?”

“You know it does,” he gasped. “I thought you wanted me to fuck you.”

Hearing him talk dirty to her just made Sarah that much hornier. She quickened her pace, loving the feel of the steel encased in satin in her mouth. He started moving with her, fucking her mouth, and Sarah felt his balls tightening beneath her hand.

If she didn’t stop, the fun would be over for a while, and she wasn’t ready for that yet.

With one last suck, and a lick on the head, she released him. He fell back against the wall, sucking in a breath like a bellows.

Whit opened his eyes and met her gaze. “Damn, you are incredible.”

She grinned. “I know. Now let’s get dried off so we can get down to business.”

“Give me a minute to get my breath back.”

Sarah laughed and reached out to run a finger down his still rock-hard erection. “Don’t take too long.”

Whit jumped out of the tub and grabbed her, splashing more water all over the room. “Your brother will probably know what we were doing.”

“I don’t care. He’s an adult. And besides, they have a three-year-old child and aren’t married.” She shivered. “Now let’s get dried off so we can get heated up.”

Within minutes, they were both dry and wrapped in fluffy towels. Whitman peeked out the bathing room door and then looked back at her.

“All clear.” He picked her up again and walked toward the guest room.

Luckily for them, they reached the door without seeing anyone. Sarah turned the knob and they ducked in.

Whitman set her on her feet and pulled the towel off her. Her nipples instantly pebbled just from him looking at them.

“Looks like I’m being called.” He set her on the edge of the bed and dropped to his knees so her breasts were at eye level.

Sarah shivered in anticipation as he spread her legs and nestled closer. He cupped her breasts and ran his thumb back and forth across the nipples.

“That feels good.” She smiled. “Your mouth would feel better.”

He leaned forward and captured one nipple in his hot mouth and she closed her eyes. His other hand crept down between her legs and lightly teased her clit.

Whitman bit and sucked at her until she thought she’d come just from his mouth. She took a much needed breath when he moved to the other breast.

“How am I doing?”

“I’ll let you know in about ten minutes.”

He chuckled just before he licked the other nipple and his fingers plunged into her. Sarah grabbed his shoulders and hung on as her body thrummed in tune with his touch.

Lick, bite, suck. Lick, bite, suck.

Sarah yanked at his hair. “I need you. Now.”

He gave her one last bite, then leaned down to lick her pussy from top to bottom.

“You taste delicious, kitten.” He lapped at her again. “Hot and spicy.”

Much as she wanted him to lick her, she needed him inside her more. Later they could play in bed all night.

“You’d best climb up on this bed.” She lay back and scooted to the side to make room for him.

“Oh, but my kitty needs to be petted.” He lapped at her again.

Sarah’s legs spread open wider, of their own volition. “Please, Whit.” She didn’t intend to beg, but damn if it didn’t come out of her mouth.

“Please what?” His rough tongue licked her throbbing pussy.

“I don’t know. Just something, now.” She grabbed her own nipples and pinched as his mouth returned to her.

Whitman sucked her clit, then bit it while his fingers slid in and out of her wetness. She could hardly contain the scream building inside her. In all her experience, she’d never felt such pleasure, such ecstasy at a man’s hands.

As Sarah was mere licks away from coming again, he stopped and kissed her pussy. “Beautiful.”

When he rose above her, she opened her eyes again and met his gaze.

“Love you, kitten.”

She forgot to breathe as he thrust into her, hard and fast. This,
this
was what she needed. He felt so damn good, sliding in and out.

Theirs was a mating, a base, primal mating of two souls forever fused into one. Sarah scratched at his back as he plunged into her, touching her womb, filling her.

Whitman leaned down to kiss her, capturing her mouth in a wild kiss, a clash of tongues that mimicked his cock inside her.

She felt her orgasm building near her toes, and it traveled through her body like the train that had carried them to Colorado.

When it arrived, he swallowed her scream as she received his. He poured his seed into her waiting body, bonding them together, bringing them the peace they needed.

Sarah’s tears were finally ones of joy instead of sorrow. She had been healed by the stubborn jackass Yankee who had wormed his way into her cracked heart.

He had healed her with his magic.

Sarah Spalding was once again whole.

W
hitman sat on the front porch with Sarah drinking coffee. The nightmare over, they were ready to talk about the future.

“Do you still want to go to San Francisco?” She took a sip of the hot brew. “Damn, Eppie makes good coffee.”

Whitman smiled. “She does know how to brew it just right.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” Sarah poked him in the shoulder. “San Francisco?”

He met her gaze. “I bought a house there months ago and it’s still mine. However, we can live wherever you want. I don’t care where, because as long as we’re together, I’m home.”

Sarah could get used to that. It might take some time, but she would. “It’s cold here. Especially in the winter.”

“Yes, it surely is. Colorado is a snowy place.” He cocked one brow at her. “Southern girl doesn’t like cold, right?”

She humphed. “No, I don’t. Is San Francisco cold?”

He shook his head. “Nope. It is usually foggy in the mornings, then sunny and warm in the afternoons. It rains in winter instead of snow, and it’s beautifully set with the ocean on one side and a bay on the other.”

She nodded, picturing the city in her mind. “It sounds beautiful.”

“It’s not nearly as beautiful as you, kitten.” He kissed her hand.

“Flattery will get you in my drawers every time.”

Whit laughed and kissed her hard. “I love you, Sarah.”

She stared at him, knowing she needed to respond, realizing it meant she’d have to make the final step in becoming a whole person.

“I love you too, Whit.”

His smile was worth every second of pain she had endured the last two weeks. He was amazing, handsome, smart, funny, and he was hers.

“When are we going to get married?” She snuggled under his arm.

“We can do it here or wait until we get to San Francisco.” He kissed the top of her head.

“Then my family can’t attend unless they travel there too.” Sarah had a sudden thought and sat up to meet his gaze. “Whitman, what about your family?”

He looked away. “What about them?”

“Your mother is alive, right?”

“Yes, she is. She lives in Maryland on a small farm.” He glanced down at Sarah. “She and I haven’t always seen eye to eye.”

Sarah smiled wryly. “I figured that out already. You know, we all have things to say and do that we don’t want to. But I want to help you fix whatever is broken between you and your mother.”

He rolled his eyes. “You can’t, so leave it be.”

“No, I won’t. You need to write her a letter and tell her how you feel and what’s happened.” She cupped his cheek. “We can’t move on until you do, and you know it.”

Sarah sat up and handed him her cup to rise. She had something she had to do too. “I’ll leave it to you to decide what you want to do.”

Whitman looked up at her, a scared little boy hiding in his green gaze. “Sarah, there’s so much hurt there.”

“I know, but I have faith in you.” She took her cane and her cup and turned to go into the house. “I have to tell the story to my brother face-to-face. At least you can do it on paper.”

He managed a grin. “Love you.”

She blew him a kiss. “Love you too, Yankee.”

After Sarah left, Whitman stared out at the street as the leaves moved with the breeze. It was so peaceful, so idyllic, it was hard to imagine there had been death there the day before.

He knew Sarah was right. There was much to be said to his mother and it needed to be done. He was thousands of miles from his mother, but it felt as if she was right next to him.

Whitman stood and went in search of pen and paper.

Sarah hobbled into the house and found Micah in the parlor alone. He smiled when she came into the room, but his smile faded when she closed the door.

“What’s going on, sprite?”

She sat down on the settee next to him and took a deep breath. “Whitman and I are moving to San Francisco.”

“I’ll miss you, but we can visit, Sarah.” He took her hand. “Now that we’ve found each other, there’s nothing to stop us from being together as a family.”

Sarah nodded and swallowed the lump in her throat. “We’ll leave after your wedding, of course, and get married in San Francisco. But first, I need to tell you my story.”

Micah nodded, his silver gaze steady. “And I’m ready to hear it.”

Sarah held her brother’s hand and thanked God she’d found him again. “I’ll start with the story of how I came to use a cane.”

Together yet apart, Sarah and Whitman healed the wounds from their past and looked toward their future. Magic, it seemed, had saved them after all.