“If I pick, we’ll be heading for the Texas border.”
He swiveled around and gave her a smile.
She met that powerful gaze, and even though being with him made her question her sanity, she wondered what it might be like to run away with him. “Since I can’t be mayor if I’m in Texas, there’s an old homestead about a mile from here. We can go there.”
Neil would have preferred Texas. All the sweet, passionate things he wanted to do to and with her on the way flared over him and tightened his groin, but he had no business fantasizing about such an encounter, so he headed the horse west.
The horse’s stride was long and sure, and although Olivia had planned on maintaining a proper distance between her body and his, she wound up having to lean closer in order to hold on. As a result, every movement of the horse made her breasts brush against his back, and the sensations hardened her nipples like sun-dried grapes. Hoping to turn her mind away from her body’s scandalous reactions, Olivia wondered what her mother would think were she able to witness this? Would Eunice be appalled and scandalized, or secretly applaud her daughter’s headlong plunge into brash behavior? Olivia was certain her mother had never done anything remotely similar; women of good standing rarely ventured off society’s set path of decorum. Had Olivia followed that path, she’d be Horatio Butler’s lawfully wedded wife now instead of riding through the Kansas night on the back of Neil July’s horse.
Neil was having thoughts of his own. Even though the seamstress had on the layers of clothing that proper women encased their bodies in, the pressure of her curves against his back was enough to make a man sweat. He turned his mind from speculating on how it might feel to slowly remove all those layers and slide his hands over the velvety skin beneath, or at least he tried to.
Olivia was surprised when they reached the homestead she’d referred to, because she’d been so deep in thought she hadn’t given him directions. They were here, however, and since she didn’t believe he was that magical, she said, “You knew about this place.”
He halted the horse and turned in the saddle to face her. “Yep. Have a camp set up around back.”
Now she understood. “I wondered how close by you were.”
“Not as close as I wanted to be….”
His meaning was easy to read, and she had to look away or be turned to a cinder.
He dismounted, then reached up and helped her down.
Once again, the warmth of his hands on her waist penetrated to her flesh. He set her on her feet less than a breath away, then reached out and gently raised her chin so their eyes would meet. For a moment he studied her silently, then he said in a hushed voice, “Never met a woman like you….”
Feeling all the new emotions rising up inside herself, she whispered back truthfully, “Never met a man like you, either….”
His finger beneath her chin traveled gently over her lips, slowly learning the shape of them, making her breathing stick in her throat.
“I’m about to break my promise not to kiss you, Olivia.”
Olivia couldn’t speak; she was shaking so badly no words came to mind. Then she remembered that she owed him a kiss for getting back at Armstead Malloy, but July was brushing his lips across her cheek, her jaw, and she couldn’t even think, let alone speak. Finally, her mind returned and she whispered, “I owe you a kiss….”
The words were music to Neil’s ears, even though he hadn’t a clue as to what she meant. “What did I do?” He traced a mesmerized finger over the ripe lines of her mouth once more.
Shimmering, Olivia tried to stay focused long enough to respond, but it was difficult. “You put Armstead Malloy on the flagpole.”
“Did you enjoy that?” he asked, while placing faint yet stirring kisses on her parted lips.
“Immensely,” she breathed.
His lips against her ear, he murmured, “You’ll enjoy this more….”
He lowered his mouth to hers, and Olivia began to understand just how much she didn’t know. She didn’t know that with the right man a kiss could melt the fiber of your being, or that the right man could make a woman moan in response to the fire-tipped seekings of his tongue. The last time they’d kissed had been the appetizer, but this—this feverish, wonderful moment was the main course. His magnificent kisses fueled her blood and made her slide her hand behind his neck so she could draw him closer. He eased an arm around her waist and drew her closer as well. Following his lead, Olivia touched the tip of her tongue to the corners of his mouth and thrilled at the low groan of satisfaction he gave in response.
Neil wanted to touch her, taste her, but he settled on nibbling gently on the tempting curve of her bottom lip. The virginal passion he’d tasted the last time they’d done this was stronger tonight, and the sweet force made his desire surge. Fueled by that, he kissed her fully; deeply, coaxing, and inviting her to come play. His hands were moving too, up the sides of her waist and over the back of her fancy ladies’ jacket. The caresses let his fingers savor the strength in her spine and the way it flared into her waist and hips.
Olivia felt his hand on her waist and placed her hand on his to keep it from traveling lower. Even though parts of herself were drowning in sensations that demanded more, it was all too much, too fast. She drew away to catch her breath.
Neil watched her and smiled. She was a lot more passionate than even she knew he sensed, and that pleased him. He had no plans to rush her, however. “How about I start a fire?”
As far as Olivia was concerned, a blaze had already been set. “Okay.”
He placed a soft, short kiss on her lips, then took her by one hand, took the reins in the other, and walked her and the horse through the dark and tall grass to the back of the house.
Olivia no longer felt like herself. The no-nonsense seamstress mayor had been replaced by someone more daring and bold; someone who let outlaws lead her into the darkness, and who wondered how long the reverberations from his kisses would last.
The house, or what was left of it, had once belonged to the Russell family, members of the original Kentucky-born founders. Like many of the other abandoned first homes in the area, this one was on its way to becoming just a memory. The sod walls had lost their form, and the sod roof had tumbled into the interior. There was a fire pit only a few feet away from where she stood. The few lit embers cast just enough of a glow for her to see the bedroll and a few cooking utensils placed nearby. While he tied up the horse to an old wooden hitching post, then stooped to build up the fire, she watched him going about the task. He was precise and efficient, letting her know he did this often. She wondered how many times he’d made fires on the open plains and how many of them were so he could enjoy the company of a woman. She told herself it didn’t matter; he had a past that had nothing to do with her or this time spent together, but parts of herself reasoned that his past did matter; Neil July knew much more about men and women than she, and out here alone with him she was vulnerable in all the ways a woman could be. Yet she didn’t feel threatened. On every occasion he’d been a gentleman, and she sensed he would continue to be so.
Neil looked over at her framed by the now rising light of the fire. What a beauty she is. He’d spent most of his outlaw life amongst saloon girls, cathouse queens and nymphs du pave; women who knew their way around a man, and whose kisses and company came with a posted price, but tall, regal Olivia lived in a different world, and his greatest fear was that he’d scare her off or offend her in some way.
Walking over to his horse, he removed first the saddle, then the blanket beneath. He spread the blanket on the cleared ground next to the fire pit. “Have a seat if you’d like. Don’t want you to get dirt on your dress.”
Olivia was pleased by his chivalry and accepted the offer. When she saw him take a seat on the other side of the fire, she was disappointed but at the same time thankful for the chance to regain her composure.
Neil watched her for a few silent moments and noted how her look fled each time their eyes met.
He wondered if she was having second thoughts about coming here with him. On the off chance that she was, he sought to reassure her. “I’ll take you back whenever you want, Olivia.”
Olivia watched the flames playing across his dark features. “I know.”
He then rose to his feet, walked around the fire, and took a seat next to her, explaining, “I don’t like sitting with my back to the night. Makes me jumpy.”
Olivia had heard that men who lived by the gun always sat facing forward, and she supposed it made sense to want to see danger coming rather than have the danger creep up behind you.
He added, “It also gives me an excuse to come sit next to you.”
“You don’t need an excuse,” she said, realizing she’d spoken the words aloud when she’d only meant to think them.
“Glad to hear that.” The dark hid Neil’s pleased grin. “You should probably talk about something, though—otherwise I’m just going to kiss you again.”
That admission made her trembly inside. Her lips were still swollen and tender from their last bout. “What would you like for me to talk about?”
“I don’t know—tell me about this fiancé you ran off from.”
She reached down and absentmindedly toyed with one of the wooden buttons on her skirt. “His name is Horatio Butler, and he’s my papa’s business partner.”
“What kind of business?”
“Timber. Papa and his men cut down the trees on our land and sell them to lumberyards.”
“How long had you known him?”
“About a year. Never liked him, though. He and Armstead Malloy could have been hatched from the same egg. When he informed me that once we married he planned to sell my shop, I knew I couldn’t marry him.”
“Most women wouldn’t have put up a fuss.”
“I’m not most women.”
“No, you aren’t.”
The timbre of his voice rippled over and through her, making her wonder if she’d ever be able to handle his presence in a nonchalant way. “Tell me something about you.”
“I like to cook.”
That got her attention.
He chuckled. “You seem surprised.”
“I am. That was the last thing I expected you to say.”
“Why?”
“A train robber who cooks?”
“Why not? Outlaws have to eat. I’m the best train-robbing cook you’d ever want to meet.”
Olivia found both him and the statement amazing. “Outlaws aren’t supposed to be domesticated.”
“Says who?”
“The papers back east.”
“Don’t believe everything you read in the papers.”
“I’m realizing that.”
“Horatio ever kiss you?”
It was such an abrupt change in topics, she went still for a moment. “No.”
“Why not?”
“I wouldn’t agree to it.”
He raised an eyebrow.
Olivia looked off into the dark. “My only explanation is that—he didn’t move me.” She turned back to Neil and tried to explain. “I know that society says women aren’t supposed to be moved—we’re supposed to just obey, but I couldn’t obey a man who planned to stake his claim on my bank accounts, and I certainly couldn’t kiss him.”
“So you ran?”
“Yes.”
Neil wondered what old Horatio had done upon learning his intended had flown the coop. Had he pined for her? From the short description she’d given, Neil tended to doubt it. “And here you are.”
“Here I am, sitting in the dark with a very gentlemanly outlaw.”
He chuckled, “Only because it’s you. Any other woman would have her hands full.”
She tossed back, “I find that hard to believe.”
In response he pulled her onto his lap. “Do you?”
She was so startled and so affected by his bold move that she forgot for a moment what she was about. All she could do was look up into his dazzling eyes, brought to life by the glow of the dancing flames.
Setting aside his gentlemanly persona, Neil whispered against her ear, “Were you any other woman…I’d kiss you this way…”
He brushed his mustached lips across her jaw, then over the edges of her mouth. He sampled her lips with a series of short, lazy pressures, and Olivia began to drown. The tip of his tongue singed her earlobe. Her breath increased in her throat, and when his lips settled fervently on hers, she responded with a telling sigh of pleasure. She’d never sat on a man’s lap ever in life, much less been kissed senseless, and that’s how she felt—senseless.
The kiss deepened, and they fit themselves closer. Their tongues mated and played. His palm made slow circles over her back, and her body began to awaken to his call. Her nipples were tightening within her corset, and a warm yearning radiated between her thighs. He was now offering kisses to the small stripe of exposed skin beneath her jaw. Her head fell back limply, and she thrilled to the feel of his tribute.
“Dios, you’re sweet….”
The kisses were hot and arousing. He moved from her jaw to her lips to her ear and she descended further and further into the sensual maelstrom. Her eyes were closed. Her heightened senses responded to every caress. Now she knew why this sort of behavior was taboo. It was too good, too moving. Being in the circle of a man’s arms while he plied you with eager, lingering kisses could make a woman forget all she’d ever learned about decorum and propriety; only sensation mattered.
And the sensations were wonderful. When he undid the upper buttons of her jacket, she forgot to protest. Her virgin’s body wanted more, and he gave her more. She had on a collarless blouse beneath her jacket that seemed perfectly designed for him to press his lips against the blooming flesh at the base of her throat. His lips fit the space so perfectly, she moaned with delight. Women from good families were not supposed to let outlaws undo the buttons of their blouse, but Olivia did and was rewarded by the kisses he placed against the tops of her breasts pushing up over her tightly cinched corset and veiled by the soft lace of her camisole.
Neil wanted to ease aside the camisole, reach into her corset, and lift the twin beauties to his eyes and lips, but he held himself in check. Even though he was as hard as granite and the tastes of her soft skin made him harder still, she was a virgin, and her virginity was meant for whomever she married, not a train-robbing Texas Seminole. He kissed his way back up to her mouth and tried to content himself with whatever she was willing to give.
But he wasn’t content. He ran a bold hand over her well-covered curves while he sampled the sweet expanse of her bare throat. He hated corsets, always had. A woman encased in whalebone was next to impossible to caress.
Olivia was having more and more difficulty controlling her breathing. The thrill of his hand moving over her bosom would have sent her into shock under normal circumstances, but this was not a normal occurrence. Her breasts were pleading in ways she’d never felt them plead before. There was a dampness between her thighs that had a call of its own, and she had no idea what the pleas and calls were about. All she knew was that she didn’t want him to stop.
Neil didn’t want to stop either—he hadn’t gotten nearly enough of the beautiful, full-bodied woman in his arms—but he knew he should before things went too far. “We should stop…,” he whispered against her ear even as his hand continued to map her firmly encased curves.
She mewled a protest.
“If I don’t, your corset is coming off and all hell is going to break loose.”
Olivia was floating in such a haze of desire that his words seemed to come from far away, and she brazenly heard herself say, “I don’t care.”
He chuckled, “You will in the morning, Madam Mayor.” He gave her another long, passionate kiss, then picked her up and set her beside him.
Their heightened breathing filled the silence of the night. Olivia felt boneless. Her whole body was throbbing and echoing in reaction to the passion he’d filled her with, and heaven he
lp her, she wanted more. She turned her head his way and found him watching her. She wondered if he felt the same.
Neil said, “I could kiss you until the snow flies, Olivia Sterling.”
“And I’d let you.”
He leaned over and kissed her again. “Button your clothes…before you wind up without them.”
Olivia dissolved.
“You’ve had enough for one night.”
She kissed him back with a passion she hoped would haunt his days. “Says whom?”
He drew away and eyed her with amusement. “Sassy woman. You’re going to be on your way to Texas if you aren’t careful.”
She bantered back, “That might not be too bad.”
Neil was pleased by her playful side and added that aspect of her personality to the list of things he liked about the new mayor of Henry Adams.
Olivia reluctantly closed her clothing. He’d been right to end the tryst. However, her body continued to echo and pulse. What would have happened had he taken her corset? During her tenure at Oberlin, one of Olivia’s fast classmates had possessed a series of small plates depicting men and women in the most suggestive and shocking positions ever seen by any of the other girls, including Olivia. At the time the plates had seemed revolting and vile, but now?…Unnerved by the direction of her thoughts, Olivia finished her buttons, then took a few deep breaths in hopes of achieving some measure of calm.
Neil sat beside her trying to create his own brand of calm. His manhood was not accustomed to being denied. Usually the women were willing and experienced and so was he. Tonight, however, a different set of circumstances were in play, but no matter how hard he tried to focus his mind elsewhere, he kept imagining her nude body arching and rising beneath his lips and his hands—the sounds of her, the tastes of her. It had been a long time since he’d wanted a woman this badly, but she was a woman he couldn’t have. “How about some lemonade?”
“I’d like that.” Olivia needed something for her parched throat and wondered if the beverage would also cool the heat in her blood. The memory of his lips on the tops of her breasts was going to keep her awake for weeks.
Something Like Love Page 11