Naughty Marietta

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Naughty Marietta Page 20

by Nan Ryan


  “I…I will never bother Miss Leslie,” said a terrified McLeish.

  “I know you won’t,” Cole said.

  He smiled then and paid off the note. Thomas McLeish’s hand shook as he hurriedly filled out a Paid in Full receipt, signed it and handed it to Cole. Cole put the receipt in his shirt pocket, got to his feet and left.

  “Cole’s back,” Leslie announced more than an hour after he had ridden away.

  Marietta waited anxiously as he headed straight for the barn. When he came back out, the piebald mare had been left in the barn and he was leading the saddled black stallion. He tethered the mount to the fence and came up the front walk.

  When he stepped inside, Marietta noticed that he and Leslie exchanged looks. She detected the almost imperceptible nod of his head as if he was silently assuring Leslie of something.

  Leslie smiled then and said, “Cole, couldn’t you just stay for a couple of days?”

  Cole knew he could put off their departure no longer. He was sorry they couldn’t. He hated to leave the Longleys way out here by themselves. There were so many things around the place that needed tending, chores that demanded a strong back.

  But there wasn’t time. He had to get Marietta to Galveston. And as soon as possible.

  “I wish we could,” Cole said to both Longley women. “I’ll come back real soon, I promise.”

  They all left the little house together, walked out into the front yard where the saddled black stallion was tethered to the fence.

  Mrs. Longley and Leslie both got tears in their eyes when Cole told them that he was leaving Marietta’s mare behind since they had no horse of their own. Marietta started to protest, but Cole silenced her with a look.

  She caught herself, smiled at Mrs. Longley and said, “We can’t let you two stay way out here with no horse.”

  “Oh, thank you so much, dear,” said Mrs. Longley. “You’re awfully good-hearted. Both of you.”

  Marietta was glad now that she had kept her mouth shut, hadn’t objected to Cole giving her mare away. He was right. They couldn’t leave these two helpless women alone with no way to get into town. She felt good about the gift; was glad Cole had done it. She wished that she’d thought of the idea.

  Still, her lips fell open in shock when, at the edge of the yard, Cole abruptly stopped, turned and calmly told the Longleys that he had recently deposited the sum of ten thousand dollars in a Galveston, Texas, bank. He then took two small pieces of paper from his breast pocket. He presented both to Peggy Longley.

  One was a Paid in Full receipt from the Tascosa bank on their outstanding loan. The other was a bank draft signing over to Peggy Longley the entire amount in the Galveston bank.

  Ten thousand, less the one hundred fifty.

  The stunned Peggy Longley looked at the bank draft, looked at Cole and showed it to Leslie. Her hand began to shake.

  “Oh, Cole, no, we couldn’t possibly take this,” she said, her eyes swimming in tears.

  “Yes, you can. I insist,” said Cole. He looked from Mrs. Longley to Leslie and back again. “You will have enough to cultivate this land and live comfortably for the rest of your lives.”

  Crying now, Peggy Longley continued to thrust the bank draft back at Cole. He smiled at her, took her hand in both of his own, closed her fingers around the piece of paper and said, “You have to take it, Mrs. Longley. Keller would want you to take it.” Cole turned to Leslie. Tears were streaming down her rosy cheeks. “Make me happy, sweetheart,” he said to her. “Take the money.”

  Leslie nodded, unable to speak. On yesterday’s walk, she had told Cole about the bank loan. And about the boorish bank president’s unacceptable behavior. She knew Cole. He had ridden into town this morning and straightened out the repulsive banker once and for all.

  Thomas McLeish would never bother her again.

  Leslie and her mother began to laugh through their tears and threw their arms around Cole. He hugged both to him. Marietta stood watching, deeply touched. She had never seen anybody do something so unselfish, so admirable.

  She would bet her life that the ten thousand dollars he had just handed over to the Longleys was every cent he had in the world. And that the money had been his payment in full from her grandfather for bringing her to Galveston.

  It was then, at that moment, that Marietta knew she had fallen in love with Cole Heflin. It had to be love, because by his own admission he had no money, no land, no power, no prospects. There was absolutely nothing she could get from him. Nothing he could do for her.

  Except, if she had her way, love her.

  Thirty

  Waving goodbye, they left the Longley spread with Marietta seated behind Cole on the stallion.

  For several miles, they rode in silence.

  Marietta quietly contemplated the change in their relationship. She was surprised at herself. She no longer had the need to behave the spoiled, pampered coquette.

  It came to her that for the first time in her life she longed to humor and indulge a man, not have a man humor and indulge her. She no longer needed to pretend and playact and promise what she never intended to deliver.

  Ever since she had grown up, she had plotted and planned and practiced deception, not caring who might be hurt. But only what she might gain for herself. Marietta suddenly frowned. Her grandfather was like that. He cared only about himself. He was selfish and unforgiving and coldhearted. He hadn’t even loved his own daughter enough to forgive her for making a mistake. She wondered if he had ever sorrowed over his decision?

  She was not going to be like him. Unloving and unloved.

  At long last she had found out what was important in life.

  Love.

  True, unselfish love.

  She wasn’t sure if she was foolish or wise, but she didn’t care. She loved Cole Heflin and she wanted to make him happy. And she wished more than anything in the world that she could look into his beautiful blue eyes and see love shining out of them.

  Cole’s feelings for Marietta had become worrisome and confusing to him. The physical pleasure they had shared had left him constantly wanting more. And that rankled him. He wrestled with himself, striving to deny any complex feelings for her. He was not used to wanting a woman again and again. Not accustomed to caring all that much about the women he bedded.

  The women to whom he had made love in the past had been for the most part interchangeable. All alike. The only real difference being that some were blond, some brunette, and very rarely, there had been a redhead.

  But this particular redhead had awakened in him a new emotion. Sexual hunger, yes, but his troubling fascination was more than just the physical. Despite the fact that she was selfish and manipulative, he—like some green fool—actually cared about her. And while he had only to look at her to desire her, he was plagued by the nagging thought that other men—no telling how many—had had her before him.

  Cole’s jaw clenched at the distasteful thought. Then he immediately berated himself. Why the hell should he care how many men had made love to her? What difference did it make? Why should he feel protective of her? Hell, she could take care of herself.

  Lord, could she.

  And yet…his heart hurt when she smiled so sweetly at him. Each time she smiled, he caught himself wishing he could command her to never smile like that at any other man but him.

  These were the respective thoughts of the reflective pair as they rode across the prairie. On all sides they could see nothing but the bleak, far-reaching Staked Plains of Texas—what the Mexicans called the Llano Estacado. A flat, endless expanse of high tableland where a constant wind blew and a baking sun beat down from a cloudless sky.

  That sun on this scorching July noontime was high and hot. Dust devils swirled across the plains. The scenery was monotonous. A worthless part of the world that the Almighty seemed to have forsaken.

  Cole, guiding the black across the stark, windswept landscape, became aware of Marietta’s soft breasts pressed against his b
ack. And of the light touch of her hands clasping his waist. That’s all it took.

  He wanted her.

  Wanted her right now.

  At once he began anxiously searching the horizon around them, looking for a stand of mesquite, a shallow arroyo, an abandoned building. Anyplace that offered at least a small degree of privacy. There was nothing. Just mile after mile of nothing.

  As if she had read his mind, Marietta laid her cheek against Cole’s shoulder and said honestly, “I wish you were touching me, loving me.”

  “You mean that?” he asked over his shoulder.

  “You know I do.”

  Cole abruptly drew rein. The responsive stallion immediately halted. Cole turned and said, “Dismount, sweetheart.”

  Marietta didn’t question him. She hastily swung down to the ground, but said, “Not here, Cole. There’s not a tree in sight, no place where we can—”

  She stopped speaking and laughed merrily when Cole leaned down, plucked her from the ground as if she were as light as a feather. He drew her up across the saddle before him and gave her a quick kiss. Then Marietta squealed when, wrapping the long leather reins around the saddle horn, Cole spoke to the black and the stallion began walking along at a slow, steady pace.

  “We aren’t really going to…?” she began.

  “We are, darlin’,” Cole said. He reached down, took off her moccasins and slipped them into the saddlebags.

  Then, looking into her eyes, he unbuttoned her chamois trousers. “Ever make love atop a moving horse?” he asked with a wicked grin.

  “Certainly not.”

  “Me neither,” he admitted. “Want to give it a try?”

  “You’re teasing me,” she accused. She studied his face and added, incredulous, “You’re not kidding, are you?”

  “I would never kid about something so serious,” he said and winked at her.

  “Cole Heflin! What if someone should come by?”

  “They won’t,” he assured her. “We are way off the main trail. Trust me.”

  Cole scooted back out of the saddle, giving it over to her. Then, with her help, he managed to get Marietta’s trousers down and off. He anxiously stuffed them into the overflowing saddlebags. Now naked from the waist down, Marietta, with his help, agilely maneuvered about so that she was seated backward astride the saddle facing Cole.

  “You’re absolutely sure nobody will happen past?”

  “Positive, so relax,” he said. “And unbutton my pants.”

  Muttering that this was foolish and disgraceful and they should be ashamed of themselves, Marietta nonetheless complied. Then emitted a little gasp of pleased surprise when she pushed the open trousers apart and he burst free, big and hard and ready to give pleasure.

  “We’re crazy, you know that,” said Marietta, then laughed, threw her arms around Cole’s neck and said, “Kiss me, Texan.”

  The black pranced proudly along as Cole and Marietta kissed. Quick, chaste kisses at first, then long, probing caresses that grew steadily hotter.

  At last Marietta tore her lips from Cole’s and said, “I’ve changed my mind. We can’t do this, Cole. It’s indecent.”

  His reply was, “Lick your fingers, baby.”

  Marietta smiled, sighed and nodded. She lifted her right hand, put out her tongue and licked the tips of her fingers.

  “Yes, that’s it,” Cole said. “Lick all four fingers real good. Make’em wet.” Marietta licked her fingertips until they were gleaming.

  She turned her hand around to show him. “See, they’re wet.”

  “Good,” he said. “Now make me wet.”

  Marietta lowered her eyes and her hand to him. She rubbed her moistened fingertips over the velvet-smooth tip of his fully formed erection until he was shiny wet. She raised her head then, looked into his smoldering blue eyes.

  “Like this?” she asked, licking her fingers again and spreading the moisture down the length of his rock-hard shaft.

  “Yes,” he said and shuddered. “And you? Are you wet, sweetheart?”

  He felt his heart hammer in his chest when she replied honestly, “Yes, I’m wet and burning hot for you, Cole.”

  Cole’s hands left her waist, moved around to her bare buttocks. He said, “Climb up here onto me and put it in.”

  Her breath coming fast, her heart beating in her ears, Marietta moved forward, slipped one slender leg up over his trousered thigh and, guiding him with her hand, put the gleaming tip of his hard flesh just inside. She released him then and, clinging to the strong column of his neck, surged up, then slowly, carefully impaled herself upon him.

  “Make love to me, Cole,” she whispered, leaning her forehead against his.

  “No, darlin’,” he said, his hands gently kneading the pale flesh of her bare bottom. “You make love to me this time.”

  Marietta raised her head, looked at him and said, “But I don’t know how.”

  “Yes, you do,” he said, smiling. “Go on. Practice on me till you get it right.”

  Marietta took the challenge. “If that’s what you want.”

  “It is,” he told her. “Make love to me as you’ve never made love to anyone else before. Drive me crazy with your beautiful body. Do it to me, baby. Take it from me. Bring me. Make me come. Love me, darlin’, love me.”

  “I will,” she promised breathlessly, “Oh, I will, Cole, I will.”

  And she set about to do just that.

  Her hands now atop his broad shoulders, her legs draped over his thighs, a wildly excited Marietta surged up against him, pushed his head back and kissed him. She thrust her tongue deep into his mouth and at the same time sensuously slid up and down his hard, pulsing flesh.

  She had learned from him. She would rise until their joined bodies would almost come apart, then gyrate her hips and slide back down until he was deeply buried in her.

  The stallion, as if attempting to match their rhythm, had picked up the pace. His strides grew longer, quicker and the motion of the moving horse beneath the entwined pair only added to the thrill of their lovemaking.

  Mounted atop the stallion while mounted atop Cole, Marietta rode both big males with total abandon and was so carried away with this unorthodox coupling, it wouldn’t have mattered to her if a wagon train of curious settlers had come upon them. She couldn’t have stopped what she was doing.

  Neither could Cole.

  The delectable Marietta had him at a fever pitch and he wanted her to never, ever stop what she was doing to him at this minute. He wanted to ride like this forever across these barren plains under a hot broiling sun while this half-naked temptress rode him. He wanted to keep his bold, beautiful lover astride him like this for all eternity, to have her hot, wet flesh clasping him, squeezing him, driving him out of his mind.

  Cole knew they were not in danger of actually being seen. He was confident that there was no one within miles and miles of them. But even if there had been riders on the horizon, he would have kept Marietta right where she was, doing exactly what she was doing. In fact, he might just keep her here like this the rest of the way to Galveston.

  Cole soon gritted his teeth in an attempt to stave off his coming climax while the wild, wanton redhead gave him the loving of his life. He held out for as long as was humanly possible.

  And then there was no holding back when the very naughty Marietta put her lips to his ear and whispered on a fiery breath, “You can let yourself go now, darling. I’m ready for you. I’m almost there. Come with me to paradise, Cole.”

  Her words triggered the most wrenching release he’d ever experienced in his life. He hoped she really was ready, because he couldn’t stop himself.

  Feeling the hot, thick liquid of love inside her immediately brought on Marietta’s incredible orgasm. Together they climaxed. Fiercely. Loudly.

  She screamed his name. He groaned hers. The excited black whinnied.

  When it was over, when at last their hearts had begun to slow and they had regained their lost breaths, the
pair stayed as they were for a while longer. Resting. Coming back down to earth. Murmuring endearments. Soothing each other.

  Finally Marietta raised her head, looked at Cole and they started laughing.

  “We should be ashamed of ourselves,” she declared happily, shaking her head.

  “I don’t see why. Nobody saw us,” he said. “Besides, tell me you didn’t enjoy it.”

  Marietta gave him a sly look and admitted, “That was the most pleasurable ride of my life.”

  Thirty-One

  It was not yet dawn in Galveston, but the gravely ill Maxwell Lacey was wide awake and impatient for daybreak. From his bed, he looked across the room, saw that the night nurse was sleeping soundly in her chair. He could wake her and ask for pain medication. But he didn’t want to take anything today. He wanted his mind to be totally clear.

  Maxwell Lacey had the strong premonition that today would be the day his granddaughter arrived in Galveston. That possibility so excited him, he could hardly wait for the sun to rise so that he and Nettie could make the necessary arrangements.

  Maxwell smiled when finally, as the first pale rays of the rising sun streamed into his bedroom windows, Nettie breezed into the room. The loyal housekeeper looked at the sleeping nurse, made a sour face then glanced at Maxwell. His eyes following her, Nettie tiptoed over to the snoring nurse. She leaned down close to the woman’s ear and shouted, “Boo!”

  The nurse awakened with a start and Maxwell laughed out loud. The nurse was not amused. Nettie didn’t care. “I’ve warned you, Mrs. McCain, for the last time,” she said. “You were hired to watch Mr. Lacey throughout the nighttime hours. Not to sleep in your chair. Get your things together and leave at once.”

  “But…but…I just dozed off,” said the nurse. “I stayed awake all night and…and…it won’t happen again.”

 

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