Naughty Marietta

by Nan Ryan

  Marietta, now as naked as the day she was born, supposed that she should have been mortified, terribly embarrassed. She wasn’t. She was on fire and out of her head with sexual pleasure and the sight of Cole’s lean, dark hand between her legs was almost as thrilling as his masterful touch.

  She knew that something wonderful and frightening was happening to her and there was nothing she could do to stop it. If a crowd of a thousand people happened upon them at this moment, she wouldn’t care, wouldn’t make Cole stop caressing her. The aghast crowd would just have to watch because she couldn’t bear the thought of him taking his hand from her even for a second.

  “Cole, Cole,” she began to sob his name as she spread her legs wider and anxiously tilted her pelvis up closer to his loving fingers.

  “Yes, baby, yes,” he whispered. “Let it come if you want to, but there’s no hurry. I’ve got you. You’re mine now and I’ll take care of you.” He brushed a kiss to her dewy forehead and told her, “We’ve got all the time in the world, sweetheart. I enjoy loving you like this. I’d like to keep my hand on you for all eternity.”

  “Co…Co…Cole…” She began to wail loudly as her climax came, strong and undeniable.

  Cole held her fast, his hand on her, his fingers gently manipulating the wet, throbbing flesh between her spread legs. Until at last she screamed, frantically pushed his hand away, squeezed her knees together and slouched against his bare shoulder.

  Twenty

  Cole kissed the top of her head, then pressed her bent knees up against his chest and rocked her as if she were a fretful infant. He soothed and petted her until she was calm and sighing with lazy contentment. When that happened, Cole put a hand beneath her chin and lifted her face so he could look into her eyes.

  She gazed at him and asked, “What did you do to me?”

  “That’s just a start, darlin’.” He kissed her open lips and told her, “There’s more to come.”

  “No, Cole. No more, please. I’ve had enough,” she told him.

  “We’ve only just begun,” he replied. Then he lifted one of her hands, kissed the warm palm and lowered it to his straining groin.

  Marietta felt the awesome power beneath her palm and shivered. And when he coaxed, “Unbutton my pants. Touch me.” She found herself curious and thinking, If he can give that kind of pleasure with just his hand, what could he do with…with this…? Marietta fumbled with the buttons of his trousers. Cole let her struggle for a few moments, then smiled, kissed her and took over the task.

  His heated mouth fused to hers, Cole, one-handed, unbuttoned the tight trousers, shoved his white underwear down his brown belly and let his fully formed erection spring free. Then he drew Marietta’s hand to him.

  Awed by the heat and hardness of him, Marietta tore her lips from his and blurted out, “But, Cole, you…you’re so big. You’re huge.”

  Cole grinned at her. “Don’t worry, we’ll fit together just fine.”

  “I don’t know, I—”

  Cole silenced her with a kiss. With his hand atop hers, he guided her slender fingers up and down his stirring erection. Feeling as if he couldn’t wait one more second to be inside her, he abruptly pushed her hand away.

  Marietta pulled back, gave him a look of puzzlement. She innocently asked, “Don’t you like to have me touch you?”

  “Sure, baby, but you keep that up and I’ll come in your hand.”

  Marietta quickly drew her hand away and frowned. “You wouldn’t dare!” she exclaimed, appalled by the prospect.

  “Then help me get undressed,” he said. He lifted his hips off the blanket and began wiggling out of the trousers and underwear.

  Marietta didn’t help. Instead, she stared with childlike curiosity as Cole made quick work of shedding the garments. In seconds he was as naked as she, and Marietta held her breath when he turned and took her in his arms.

  When he felt her tremble against him, Cole said softly, “Trust me, Marietta. I won’t hurt you. I’ll wait until you’re ready for me.”

  Cole lowered them down onto the blanket to lie facing each other. He pressed his warm, naked body to hers, purposely letting her feel the size and hardness of his aching erection. Marietta gasped when she felt that heavy masculine power surging against her quivering belly. She was, for just one fleeting moment, terrified. He intended to thrust and fill her with all that awesome male strength!

  Cole kissed her then and the swift, enveloping hotness of his seeking mouth made her sigh and snuggle closer. She felt his hand move down her back, slide over the swell of her bare buttocks and slip into the crevice between. She tried to object, but his mouth was covering hers and the only sound she could make was a weak, strangled moan.

  That murmur of protest turned into sighs of shocked pleasure when she felt those lean, talented fingers begin to tease and toy, coming at her from a different direction, but spreading the same kind of incredible heat as before.

  Of its own volition, her knee began to bend and to edge up his lean body. She hooked a leg around his back and drew him closer. How exciting it was to have his heavy erection jerking rhythmically against her belly while at the same time his fingers teased at the pulsating flesh between her legs. She breathed through her mouth, leaned closer and rubbed her rigid nipples back and forth against Cole’s hair-covered chest.

  Marietta had, at least a thousand times, wondered just what it would be like to make love with a man. A darkly handsome lover with a lean, beautiful body who knew how to use it to please a woman. In her wildest dreams she had never imagined it could be like this. Such a total loss of inhibitions. Such undiluted joy to have this naked Adonis do wonderfully forbidden things to her.

  Cole wanted Marietta fever hot.

  So he spent a long, lovely interlude in pleasingly passionate foreplay. He kissed her and held her and caressed her until the blood was zinging through her veins and she was restless for all that he could give her. Knowing the exact minute when to make his move, Cole rolled Marietta onto her back, urged her long slender legs apart and moved between them.

  In a haze of sexual excitement, she looked up into his humid eyes and whispered, “Cole, Cole, kiss me. Take me. Love me.”

  Cole kissed her and as he did, he put his hand between them, gripped himself and slid the smooth tip of his erection just inside her. He raised his head, balanced his weight on his stiffened left arm and said, “I want to look into your eyes while I make love to you.”

  “And I yours,” she breathed.

  Neither managed to do so. While Cole meant to slide slowly into her, he couldn’t make himself do it. Her hot little body was too sweet, too tight and he was far too aroused. His eyes slid closed and so did hers as he thrust forcefully into her.

  He had never been hotter, never wanted a woman as much as he wanted this one. So aroused he was totally oblivious to Marietta’s obvious lack of sexual experience. He made heated love to her as the setting summer sun bathed their naked entwined bodies in its blood-red afterglow.

  Cole thrilled and shocked the unskilled Marietta with his intensely intimate lovemaking. She felt incredible joy engulfing her and thought she would surely faint. He kissed her and kept on kissing her throughout the fiercely passionate lovemaking.

  She was divinely aware of his tongue and his tumescence probing together in sensual stimulating rhythm. She loved it. Loved the way his tongue filled her mouth while his throbbing length filled her body.

  Marietta learned quickly, moving with him, bucking against him, taking him completely, squeezing him, loving him. And all the while she felt as if he was a magnificent instrument for giving pleasure, one which the gods of love had fashioned solely for her.

  Cole sank all the way into her, pulled almost out, then thrust into her again. He was, Marietta mused, like mighty waves on an ocean. She found his pounding rhythm and rolled with him, surging against him, drawing him to her, holding him as if she would never let him go.

  Until all at once the pleasure became so intense Ma
rietta felt as if her female body was bursting into fire and that only the liquid that would come from his powerful male body could save her from total incineration.

  “Cole, Cole, Cole!” she sobbed. “I’m burning up. I’m on fire! Save me, save me!”

  “I will, sweetheart,” he assured and speeded his movements.

  Seconds later Marietta cried out in her wild, shuddering climax. Cole groaned and joined her in paradise, the hot, thick liquid of his release pouring into her and overflowing. Saving her, cooling her, extinguishing the raging fire.

  For a long time after the last little aftershocks of the orgasm had passed, the pair continued to lie there in each other’s arms, reluctant to move, to let the other go. So they lay there as the last pink gloaming of light washed over them and the gentle wind through the pines and weeping willows cooled their naked bodies.

  When Cole finally rolled onto his back and drew her close against his side, Marietta raised onto an elbow, looked at his face and thought he was surely the handsomest man she had ever met.

  And, oh what a fantastic lover!

  Sated, breathless, Marietta smiled and sighed contentedly, supposing that Cole Heflin was now deeply in love with her. He couldn’t have loved her the way he had if he was not absolutely mad about her. Which was no surprise. After all, every beau she’d ever had had fallen in love with her after only one kiss.

  Surely a man who had done the things Cole did to her was in love with her. And a man in love would want to give her anything she wanted. And what she wanted was to return to Central City and her singing career.

  For all her wily charms, Marietta knew little about the true nature of men. She couldn’t have been more wrong about Cole. And all too soon she learned the ghastly truth.

  Smiling dreamily, Marietta was drawing small circles on his chest with her forefinger when abruptly Cole caught her hand and made her stop. He sat up. She sat up beside him. He turned and looked at her, then shook his head.

  “I’m sorry that happened, Marietta. I shouldn’t have touched you. But you finally pushed me over the brink.” She was staring at him, round-eyed, lips parted. He continued, “Still, it was my fault and I accept full responsibility. I’m sorry, truly I am.”

  Disbelieving, she said, “You mean you’re not…you aren’t in love with me?”

  “Good God, no. What ever made you think that?”

  Horrified, Marietta covered her bare breasts with her hands. “But you…you just made passionate love to me and I thought…I…oh, you vile bastard, how could you?”

  “How could I?” he replied. “How could you? Correct me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t it you who lured me out here where you were waiting bare-breasted to seduce me?”

  Reaching frantically for her discarded clothes, hot tears now stinging her eyes, Marietta said, “I was not…I never…you are the one who took off my…my—” she was sobbing now “—I just…I…oh, I despise you, Cole Heflin, don’t you ever touch me again!”

  Unmoved by her crocodile tears, Cole shrugged wide shoulders and said sarcastically, “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

  Twenty-One

  Lightnin’ debated returning to Central City. After his failed run-in with Marietta and the Texan, he had laid up in Denver for several days, recuperating.

  Lightnin’s idea of convalescing was eating thick steaks and drinking whiskey and visiting the sporting ladies along Holladay Street. If he could have had his way, he would just have stayed right there and enjoyed himself for the rest of his life.

  Finally, he decided that he would have to go back to Central City. The prospect was less than pleasant, but he was out of money and had nowhere else to go. Might as well get it over with. Face the music. Hope for the best. Maybe the middle-aged man was over the snooty red-haired singer by now and would forgive him for not bringing her back.

  The very next day Lightnin’ rode back into Central City. The word of his return quickly spread and curious townsfolk gathered, wondering if he had found Marietta. They didn’t dare ask. They knew better than to question Lightnin’ for he had a reputation of being disagreeable and dangerous. They would have to wait and wonder.

  Lightnin’, looking neither left nor right, rode up Eureka Street and directly to the Tivoli Opera House. He assumed that Maltese would be exactly where he had left him. Sleeping in Marietta’s bed. Hugging her shoes. Waiting for her return.

  Lightnin’ dismounted in the alley outside the stage door. He ground-tethered his mount, removed his hat and raised a hand, knocking loudly. No answer. Minutes passed. He knocked again.

  At last the door opened a crack and Maltese himself, looking frail and haggard and wearing a gray silk dressing robe, stood peering at him from red-rimmed eyes.

  “Lightnin’!” Maltese finally exclaimed, and threw the door open wide. “Oh, thank God. Thank God. You’ve found her! You’ve found my darling—”

  “No, Maltese,” Lightnin’ said. “I haven’t.” He urged the older man back inside and followed. “I searched night and day, but I found no sign of Marietta. Absolutely nothing.” He wasn’t about to admit that he had indeed found the Texan and Maltese’s flame-haired spitfire and that she had not wanted to come back with him. Had, in fact, almost killed him, damn her to hell.

  “No sign of her,” Maltese repeated, shaking his silver head. “Lightnin’, you…you promised me. You told me you’d bring her back. Where is she? I want her! I want my darling Marietta!”

  “I tried, I did everything I could think of,” Lightnin’ said. “I alerted the authorities in Denver. They helped with the search. Put several of their best men on the job. But she’s gone, Maltese. She’s gone. It’s been too long, the trail is cold. No telling where they are by now.”

  “Texas!” Maltese snapped his fingers and raised his voice. “You said yourself that a Texan took her.”

  “I did, but—”

  “Well, there you have it! They’re in Texas and you will turn right around and go after—”

  “Maltese, be reasonable. Texas is a huge place. I’d have no idea where to begin looking. Besides, just because her abductor is a Texan doesn’t mean he took her to Texas.”

  Maltese thought it over and his shoulders sagged. “No, of course not. They could be anywhere,” he admitted sadly. He was silent for a moment, then said, “So you didn’t talk to anybody who had seen them? They left no clues along the way, no cold campfires or articles of clothing or…anything? They just vanished into thin air?” Maltese slowly raised his hands and covered his face as tears filled his eyes. He began to weep and his slight body shook with his sobs.

  Lightnin’ gritted his teeth in annoyance, but reached out and laid a comforting hand on Maltese’s trembling shoulder. “I’m sorry I failed you, Maltese. I guess you mean to fire me for this.”

  Maltese lowered his hands. He looked up at Lightnin’ through tear-filled eyes. He coughed, drew a white silk handkerchief from the breast pocket of his dressing gown and wiped his tear-stained cheeks.

  He said pitifully, “You didn’t see her? No one saw her?”

  “No one,” said Lightnin’. “I’ll be going now and—”

  “No,” said Maltese, turning. “Come on up and have a drink with me. I’m all alone. When my sweet Marietta disappeared, I shut down the opera house. I paid off all the players and sent them back East. All but Marietta’s voice coach, Sophia. She wouldn’t go. Said she was going to stay in Central City until we heard from Marietta. You’ll have to go over to Sophia’s house and tell her that Marietta won’t be coming back.”

  Maltese turned and wearily began climbing the stairs to what was once Marietta’s private quarters. Behind him, Lightnin’ smiled to himself. Looks as though he was going to keep his job and all the benefits that went with it. He had done the right thing in coming back.

  And he had damn sure done the right thing in keeping quiet about his encounter with the Texan and the singer. Lightnin’ lifted a hand, rubbed the knot on the back of his head and scowled. He was glad Marie
tta was gone and out of his hair. Good riddance to the haughty, no-talent bitch. She had never liked him and the feeling had been mutual.

  Hell, he pitied the fool Texan who took her. Eight to five said the unsuspecting bastard was sorry he had ever laid eyes on her.

  “Do you suppose I’ll ever really lay eyes on her?”

  “Why, sure you will.”

  “I don’t know, Nettie,” the weak, bed-fast Maxwell Lacey said to his trusted housekeeper, a stout, graying widow who had been with him for more than twenty years. “I keep hoping she’ll come walking in here…” His words trailed away, but his arthritic hand remained outstretched toward the open bedroom door.

  Nettie took hold of that hand in both of her own and gently placed it back on the bed. Then she made a big fuss of straightening his bedcovers and plumping up his pillows while she talked about the happy day when his only granddaughter would arrive in Galveston and come straight here to the seaside mansion and to her grandfather.

  “…and we’ll have a feast fit for a king. Or queen, shall I say. I’ll send Nelson down into the wine cellar with instructions to bring up the most expensive bottle of…of…”

  “Dom Périgon champagne,” Maxwell Lacey prompted.

  “Yes, the Dom Perigon champagne,” Nettie confirmed. Each night their dialogue was basically the same, but he never tired of it. Planning his granddaughter’s homecoming made him happy as nothing else could, made him determined to live until she arrived.

  “We’ll toast Marietta with the chilled champagne,” Nettie continued, “and then we’ll do like they do in those European countries where they all throw their stemmed crystal glasses into the fireplace after downing the bubbly.”

  Maxwell Lacey chuckled happily. This was his favorite part. “Yes, we’ll break the fine crystal! She will like that! We’ll have great fun.”

  “Great fun,” said Nettie, and Maxwell’s sick eyes sparkled as Nettie proceeded, discussing, as if for the first time, the dinner menu for Marietta’s first meal at the mansion. “I think we’ll start with fresh gulf shrimp, boiled to just the right degree of perfection and we’ll have the cook’s special red sauce on the side.” She rubbed her chin as if pondering, then said, “After the shrimp appetizer, we’ll serve thick juicy steaks for the entrée.” She paused then, waiting for Maxwell to declare, as he always did, that the fine beef would come from the Lacey coastal ranch southwest of the city.