by Lola White
His throat bobbed. “It was a long time ago. Years and years.”
“We were just kids, trying to figure everything out on our own.” Orchid rocked, sliding forward and back, uncoordinated but determined. “Until Clint came and made me start thinking other thoughts.”
“What we did was…wrong.” Lowell didn’t sound convinced. “You could’ve gotten a baby. Not supposed to do anything like that before you’re married and we were too young for a wedding.”
“At the time, I figured I would marry you when we grew up.” Orchid moved again and put her arms around Lowell’s shoulders for good measure. “In fact, that sounds like an excellent plan.”
“Marriage?”
“Mmm. You’re the reason he left me behind. Someone’s got to pay for that.”
Orchid slid a hand down Lowell’s chest. Ignoring the temptation to explore the muscles he hadn’t had the last time they had done this, she pressed between their bodies, unsurprised when he didn’t protest. She licked his lip the way she’d seen her mother do to her father once and smiled when she heard Lowell lose his breath. She caught his belt buckle and tugged.
“Think first,” he warned. “If we go on, it’ll be different this time.”
“I hope so.”
“No, Orchid. I mean, this time will be for keeps, forever. We’re too old for anything else. Your daddy will march me down the aisle at the end of his shotgun, so you better be prepared for a wedding.”
“Just so long as you’re prepared to write another infernal letter to a certain marshal who should know exactly what’s going on around here.”
Lowell leaned back a little. “You know I’ve been writing letters?”
She hadn’t, but it was something she knew he’d do. She could just imagine him poring over each and every word, crafting perfect penmanship by the light of a flickering candle in the drafty bunkhouse. Lowell had always been so sensitive when it had come to his schoolwork, always afraid people would judge him for where he’d come from rather than what he’d made of himself.
“I know you,” she assured him as she worked his belt open. Without wasting time, she moved on to the closure of his dungarees and pulled the heavy material apart. “There’s nothing about you that I don’t know.”
“You might be surprised.”
She fisted his cock. “Nope, not even a little surprised.”
Long, like him, and proportional to his body, soft skin and hot flesh—Orchid remembered. It had been a while since they’d been curious children in the back field not far from where they were then, but not too much had changed. She stroked him, dragging her palm up to his tip and back down, watching his eyelids fall as she did.
“You been with anyone else since then?” she asked.
“Have you?”
She shook her head. “I was preoccupied.” With Clint and getting him to pay her some attention. It had occurred to her that she could have thrown herself at the man, that she could have stripped off her clothes and crawled onto his lap at some point in time, but she hadn’t thought that tactic would be effective. She’d seen how he’d treated the other women who had come on too strong, and she’d taken the opposite approach—not that it had done her much good.
“You didn’t answer my question, Lowell.” She circled her thumb over the tip of his cock. “Have you been with someone else?”
Again, he didn’t answer, but he did distract her with a searing kiss. While he laid his lips on hers, tempting her to open for him, to let him lick into her mouth with heated pressure, he slipped his hand beneath her skirt. Dancing his fingertips over her upper thigh, drawing circles, he glided closer and closer to the center of her curiosity.
Last time, she’d had no idea what to do. She still didn’t, but now, the feel of Lowell’s hands was making her hot and prickly. Her nerves seemed to stretch and the flesh between her legs softened and swelled. Her breasts grew sensitized against his chest, the way they always had when she’d pressed them to Clint’s heavier muscles.
Then Lowell found her pussy. He stroked and rubbed, calling forth a moisture Orchid had only known in the middle of the night after waking up from her wildest, most secret dreams—dreams that included two men touching her, holding her, kissing her, sliding into her hungry depths as her inner walls rippled—just as they were doing around the slow intrusion of Lowell’s fingers. Her concentration broke, making her falter mid-fondle, until Lowell’s cock nearly fell from her hand.
“You’re wet,” he breathed. “That’s good. That’s how you should be.”
“I…I am? I should?” She let her head fall back so that she stared up at the sky again, but it suddenly seemed too bright. She closed her eyes. The sensation of Lowell tracing his hand over her hidden skin became magnified, along with the press of his fingers inside her and the subtle stretching of her opening.
More than ready under a wash of urgency and with her emotions bouncing from one extreme to another and making her feel both scared and needy, she moved toward him. She needed Lowell to love her, to sink deep inside her where he could never leave her. She never wanted to be left again.
Orchid tugged his dick toward her entrance. Lifting to her knees and rocking against his hand, she waited for him to pull back slightly before she wriggled onto his cock. “No more. I want you.” She squeezed his shaft. “This.”
“Be sure.” He licked her lip then thrust his tongue into her mouth in a caress that left her gasping and achingly hot. “Be very sure, Orchid, because I can make you feel good with just my hands. Maybe my mouth, too, if you’re adventurous.”
She rubbed his crest between her wet folds. The smooth knob caught the swollen peak hidden there, sparking and flaring, radiating pleasure out far beyond his touch. Struggling for breath, Orchid jerked and got more pleasure from driving her pussy down onto the fingers he still held inside her. Her body flooded. She felt the fluid slick over Lowell’s knuckles and her thighs.
“Please,” she whispered.
He helped her. Encouraging her to move forward, gripping her hips and showing her how to rock so that his dick slipped into place and her body opened to let him in, Lowell did all he could to make this time so much better than before. The first time had been fine—messy and strange—but this was turning out to be everything her mother had told her she should wait for.
A slow, glorious slide down his shaft brought him fully into her. Orchid’s back arched involuntarily. Her hips churned without direction. She felt stretched and full and nearly on fire with the need to move, but first she wanted to simply experience.
She waited…then waited a moment more.
“Are you imagining him?” Lowell’s voice was strained. “Are you thinking of what it would have felt like to have him slide into your cunt, rather than me? Should I tell you what he looks like naked?”
Her eyes snapped open and she tilted her chin down to meet Lowell’s gaze. “You’ve seen him naked?”
“Clint and I have been swimming together. His cock is thick. I bet your pussy would be stretched tight as he sank into you. I bet you’d come before he was halfway home, but you’re trying to hold on with me now. Denying your pleasure. I can feel your pussy squeezing around me.”
Fighting for breath after the mental image he’d painted seared her lungs, Orchid shook her head. Her inner muscles contracted and trembled, dangerously close to some event she wasn’t certain she could handle. “I’m not denying anything. I’m feeling.”
“Feel this, instead.”
He lifted, then surged deep in a smooth, heavy glide, only to retreat and return with more force, shaking her on his shaft, bouncing her on his lap. Sharp pleasure flowed between them—and through Orchid’s entire body, until even her nipples pulsed as they rasped the inside of her bodice and ached at the pressure of Lowell’s chest.
She was full, hot and eager. It didn’t matter that she wished another was there. She was wrapped in the arms of a man who loved her, and whether it was right or wrong, she would hold on to him ho
wever she could. Letting go of her vengeance and fear, she relaxed into the bliss Lowell offered and flew apart.
She’d never be left behind again.
Chapter Three
#xa0;
Clint,
I wanted to write and tell you that Orchid and I got married. I know you probably expected it, but it’s only decent to let you know. It was a good wedding at the Double O ranch. Miss Hyacinth made a real nice cake. Orchid cried a bit, but that’s because you weren’t here.
She misses you. So do I.
Lowell
* * * *
Clint,
Hopefully you’re doing fine, but we could use your steady influence around these parts. We’ve taken a little cabin down by the road, just off the Double O property. We had to because Orchid and her daddy are butting heads a bit lately. She’s stubborn, you know.
Orchid misses you real bad. I sure do wish you were here.
Lowell
* * * *
#xa0;
Clint,
It does seem like forever since you left town. Does it feel like that to you, too, or have you forgotten all about us? I don’t know if you’re even getting these letters, let alone reading them, but I just have to keep writing. I don’t know who else to talk to.
Orchid is having some trouble settling into married life. I know it’s only been a few weeks now, but I do wish she’d be calmer. Sometimes, I’ve got to go looking for her at night, and you’ll never believe the places I’ve found her. So far, she swears she ain’t getting herself in trouble, but I can’t help but wonder.
I wish I knew how to settle her down like you used to.
Lowell
* * * *
Clint,
I feel like I’m sinking. I don’t know what to do anymore. Orchid’s daddy is riding my tail, telling me I’m letting her run wild. How can I stop her? She’s miserable, anyway. She don’t listen to me. She says you left her because of me. Then she kisses my cheek and apologizes just before she heads off to the saloon to drown her sorrows. Luckily, a few of the girls have taken to her and watch over her. They’ve sworn she ain’t gone off with anyone else. Considering how she is at home, I believe them.
If you got any advice, I’d sure like to hear it.
Lowell
* * * *
Clint,
Well, I’m pretty sure I’ve lost her. Or I’m about to, at any rate. New resident came to Creek Bend last week, name of Swift. I can’t rightly figure out what he does, but he’s a charmer. He’s been charming Orchid, that’s for sure. At the very least, he listens when she tells all those old stories about the three of us and how we met and all the times we spent fishing or walking the cattle trails around here or swimming in the stream. He’s paying her lots of attention when I’ve just about run out of patience with her antics.
So I guess that’s it. Her and me and you and us. It’s been months now and we haven’t heard a word from you. I guess that means you’re either dead or wish we were, so I won’t bother you anymore.
Lowell
* * * *
Clint spread the letters he’d been trying to ignore out over his bed. So many in just a few months. How is a man supposed to move on with his life?
He couldn’t—not with the people he loved most in the world disintegrating without him to hold them together—and not when the name Lowell mentioned rang alarm bells in his head. Before he had left Creek Bend, Clint had traveled north to testify in a trial against a man named Swift who’d ended up getting hanged for his crimes. Now there was a man in Creek Bend by the same name asking about Clint and getting cozy with his girl. Well, with the girl that should have been his, if he hadn’t loved her new husband so much.
Damn. The whole thing was a mess, and yet, Clint’s heart beat a little faster at the idea that he’d have to go back, just to make sure everything was all right—just to make sure the dead fugitive’s family members weren’t up to no good.
Chapter Four
#xa0;
The man before her wouldn’t have claimed even a small amount of her attention just a few months ago, but now Orchid found an overwhelming appreciation for him. Hank Swift had an easy laugh and a glint of heartache in his eye. She could sympathize.
At any rate, whether or not she really liked his company at all, sharing a drink with him in the saloon was far better than moping at home with Lowell. Orchid could hardly face her husband, knowing she was making them both miserable but unable to stop herself. She hurt too bad—her heart and lungs and head—and she wasn’t sure when it would ever end. She only had the vague notion that Lowell was somehow prolonging the torture, because every time she looked at him, the ache flared again.
Clint would know what to do. He’d know exactly what to say to make Lowell stop being mad, and he’d know just how to make Orchid’s pain go away. But he wasn’t here. He’d left them—left her.
Orchid smiled at Swift and raised the whiskey glass to her mouth. Tipping her head back, she swallowed the whole of it, lowering her lashes as an errant shaft of sunlight found its way past the saloon doors and reflected off the glass into her eyes. Then the light was cut off abruptly, letting her know a new patron had just arrived.
That was her cue to leave. With the night coming on and Lowell growing angrier each time he had to come find her, she didn’t want to stay any longer. As fun as it was to listen to the songs and the randy jokes and forget, for just a moment, how lonely she felt, Orchid didn’t feel like sitting through another of her husband’s lectures—or worse, his cold silence.
She didn’t know her own mind anymore. She didn’t want Lowell to be upset with her, and yet, she couldn’t help but upset him.
As the boot steps of the new patron approached her, Orchid realized she’d been caught again. She opened her eyes to see her husband’s fierce scowl. He reached out and caught her arm, hauling her to her feet and marching her toward the door in one violent action.
“Him again, Orchid?”
She glanced back over her shoulder at Swift, who smiled and saluted her with his glass. Stumbling through the swinging doors, she said, “I thought you were still working on my father’s horses.”
“And that makes it okay for you to come down to the saloon and entertain a man who ain’t your husband?” Lowell’s frown deepened.
“I’m not entertaining anyone!”
“Don’t I know it,” he sneered.
“Oh, you have a complaint? You’re the one who can’t even bring yourself to touch me, Lowell!” She didn’t care that they were in the middle of the street. She yanked free of his hold and screamed, “You haven’t touched me since our wedding night, but you have the nerve to accuse me of being with someone else?”
“It’s hard to get it up when there’s a phantom between us, darlin’.”
Orchid blinked back her tears. “I should have followed him. I shouldn’t have stayed here with you when you clearly don’t want me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous! My God, woman, I’ve wanted you since we were kids. It’s you who can’t live with second best, right? But the only thing I’ve asked of you is that you stop drinking with other men in the saloon, and you can’t even do that!”
“It’s better than being home alone.”
“Yeah, it’s a pretty damned unhappy place, isn’t it?”
Lowell’s tone poured guilt over fresh wounds. She still couldn’t help herself. “Yes, it is.”
Jerking her skirts up to her ankles, Orchid fled. Leaving her husband cursing in the middle of the street, she ran to a place where her happiest memories still resided.
* * * *
Orchid tumbled down the steep, wooded hill. The sun was nearly gone, making the shadowed path more treacherous than usual. She didn’t care. The sound of the rushing river drew her on, tempting her with a sense of peace and a moment to dwell on all the wonderful times they’d spent there.
Pushing through the bushes, she almost fell on her face in surprise. As if her hopes and dreams ha
d conjured him, Clint stood on the river’s edge, half-turned—no doubt to see what strange creature was crashing through the brush.
“My God!” Orchid’s heart raced, even as it seemed to swell. Immense pain came and went, once again nearly taking her to her knees. “Clint? Is it really you?”
He gave a harsh laugh and stepped toward her. Reaching for her—his hand on her shoulder for the first time in months, the smell of him, the feel and the warmth and closeness—Orchid was afraid she was dreaming or worried that she’d perhaps had more to drink than she’d realized.
“You smell like whiskey,” Clint murmured.
“What are you doing here?”
“Lowell’s been writing me. He said you were unhappy.”
“You came all this way to see if I was unhappy?” Orchid didn’t bother to hide her tears. She threw herself against Clint’s chest and breathed in his unique smell, delirious when he brought his strong arms up to hold her close, wrapping her in a comfort she’d never thought to feel again. “I am,” she whispered. “I am so unhappy. I miss you so much. God, I wish you’d taken me when you left!”
His lips were on her temple, then his words coasted over her ear. “Would you really have been happier if I’d taken you away from Lowell?”
“Yes!”
“Truth, Orchid. Could you live without him?”
Her tongue burned to say what she’d been telling herself for months—but she couldn’t. Despite her anger with him, no matter that she blamed a good portion of her misery on him, she simply couldn’t imagine life without her husband. Orchid almost felt paralyzed at just the thought.
Without answering Clint, she snuggled closer, pressing her face to his throat. His body’s heat seeped into her, pulling at her nipples and tingling in her core. She’d never had the nerve to approach him previously—and she’d seen the way he’d treated the other women who had—but she didn’t dare miss this chance.