Sweeter Than Honey

by Delilah Devlin

  “Oh, no,” Honey said, shaking her head at Letty. “He’s not staying here.”

  “But we brung him just for you,” Letty said, disappointment making her face look as drawn as a basset hound’s.

  “Well, you can take him right on back.” Panic made her voice a little shrill. “What were you ladies thinking? You kidnapped the sheriff!”

  “We sure did,” Letty said with a wide grin. “He fell asleep sitting on the stool, and I had to lean real close to him to keep him from sliding to the floor until we could chase Amos out of the restaurant.”

  “He’s a big man. How the hell’d you get him out of the café and into the cart?”

  “I’m a blacksmith’s wife,” Letty said, hitching up the waistband of her skirt. “I’ve helped Amos around the smithy so long, I can pert near carry a horse on my back.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Honey said, shaking her head. “Ladies, I appreciate that you went to all this trouble for me, but what am I supposed to do with him? He’s going to blame me when he wakes up. I’ll end up in jail for real this time.”

  Letty slapped a hand on Honey’s shoulder, her smile widening. “He won’t press no charges. Think he’ll want the whole town to know that a bunch of women kidnapped him, stripped him nekkid and tied him to your bed?”

  Honey’s mouth gaped open. “That’s your plan?”

  “Ain’t it brilliant? The stripped nekkid part was my idea. You can compromise him right back for what he did to you.”

  “Compromise him?”

  “Yup.” Daisy’s nod almost unbalanced her, and Sally grabbed for her shoulder to keep her sitting straight. “Euphimischt-ically speaking.”

  “Eupha what?” Sally asked.

  “Close your ears, Sally,” Letty said, then leaned close to Honey to whisper loudly, “Honey girl, you kin have your wicked way with him.”

  “I don’t believe you just said that,” Honey said, wishing the ground would just open up and swallow her whole.

  “No time to be mishish—missish,” Daisy said, stuck out her tongue and stared at it cross-eyed. “Why isn’t it working anymore?”

  Letty gave Honey a fearsome scowl. “Don’t you remember he told you he was doing you a favor?”

  Honey remembered those were her words, but his reply had been spoken so coldly he had made her feel dirty and ashamed. She gave him a kick.

  “That’s the shpirit,” Daisy said.

  “Just think,” Letty whispered. “All that prime-grade male, just lyin’ there. Think you might need some help?”

  “Help?” Honey asked.

  “Letty, for shame,” Daisy said, but her lips twitched. “But we do need to strip him, since we’re the married ladies in the group.”

  Honey shook her head again, wondering when everyone had taken a crazy pill. “And I thought this was a nice, quiet little town.”

  “Can’t I help?” Sally asked, her pretty face blushing. “I could keep my eyes closed and just feel my way.”

  Honey blushed scarlet at the familiar phrase. “Ladies, we can’t do this.”

  “Too late to back out now,” Letty said. “If he wakes up in the wagon, he’s gonna arrest us all. Have to get him compromised first. That way he won’t say a word.”

  Honey closed her eyes and wished she’d already packed and left. “I don’t believe this.”

  Letty hopped into the back of the wagon, surprisingly spry for a woman of her proportions. “Someone get his legs,” she said as she lifted up his shoulders.

  “I want a leg,” Sally said, jumping from the wagon seat.

  “Just don’t think you can pull on him like a wishbone,” Letty said. “We want him fully functionin’ when he wakes up.”

  Honey rushed to help Daisy from the wagon seat. The woman swayed and put a hand to her mouth.

  “You gonna be all right?” Honey asked. A crash from the back of the wagon had her rushing around to find the sheriff sprawled on the ground. “Oh Lord, you’re gonna kill him for sure. Then where will I be?”

  “We’ll help ya hide the body,” Letty said.

  “The point is I don’t want him dead. I don’t even want him hurt.”

  “Then why’d you kick him?”

  Frustrated and wondering why she was the only one sober in the group, Honey picked up a heavy leg. “Come on, ladies. Since we’re already criminals, we might as well make the man comfortable.”

  Sally, Letty and Honey wrestled with his deadweight, managing nicely until they reached Honey’s narrow stairs. By the time they had him at the foot of the stairs, sweat plastered Honey’s forehead and her shirt was wet beneath her arms. The other ladies weren’t in much better condition.

  Honey gently lowered the leg she’d carried and wiped sweat from her forehead. “So how are we going to get him up those stairs?”

  “Maybe we could just make him a pallet here under the trees,” Daisy said.

  Exasperation sharpened Honey’s words. “For anyone who might come by to see? I don’t think so.”

  “Get a blanket,” Letty said. “We’ll lay him on it and slide him up the stairs.”

  Honey found her oldest threadbare blanket, and they rolled him onto it. Then Letty took position at the top of the steps, squatting with her legs spread wide. She gathered the end of the blanket and began to pull.

  The sounds of stitches popping had Honey rushing to pull on the sides and help ease the sheriff up the steps. His head hit the steps with each pull.

  “Lordy, that man’s gonna have a headache,” Letty said. “Deserves every knot too.”

  “If the overdose of the potion doesn’t kill him,” Honey mumbled, her breath rasping with exertion. “I’ll be hung for bludgeoning him to death.”

  “Don’t be such a sourpuss,” Letty said. “Wait until we get him nekkid—you’ll be happier then.”

  Honey shook her head forlornly. She’d be the one left to explain why he was in her bed with goose eggs on the top of his head and bruises over every other inch of his skin. Tar and hen feathers were looking pretty good now.

  Daisy and Letty settled him onto her narrow mattress. Because it had been her father’s bunk before his death, the sheriff’s feet stretched to the very end of the mattress with only an inch to spare.

  “Let’s make him comfortable and get the hell out of here before he wakes up,” Letty said.

  “Getting nervous now? Need a little more port?” Honey asked, acid in her voice.

  Letty gave her stare. “You got a mean streak. Never noticed that before.”

  When Daisy started unbuttoning his shirt, Letty reached eagerly for the waist of his trousers.

  “Letty,” Daisy said, her tone holding a warning. “The man is incapacitated. Remember, you are a Christian lady—and married.”

  “Doesn’t mean I cain’t look.”

  “Just be quick about it. We shouldn’t take any joy in this.”

  Daisy had managed to strip away the shirt and Letty had the placket of his trousers unbuttoned when Sally sighed. “My word,” she said breathlessly as the pants opened to reveal the sheriff’s substantial…manhood.

  Even resting, it was a beautiful sight to behold—at least to Honey.

  Sally’s eyes widened, and she looked more than a little frightened.

  “Sally, you go step outside,” Daisy said. “We’ll have a talk about the birds and the bees on the way back to town.”

  Sally fled without a backward glance.

  Letty seemed to take her sweet time dragging his trousers and drawers down his long legs.

  “What are you going to do if he opens his eyes and sees who’s strippin’ him bare-naked?” Daisy asked.

  Letty’s lips curved downward. “Spoilsport. Only ever saw one man nekkid. Just wanted to peek.”

  “Don’t you think Amos would mind you ogling another man’s
privates?”

  “It’s just natural,” Letty said, her eyes never straying from his sex. “What God gave him.”

  “You are not communing with nature. You’re ogling a defenshless man.”

  Letty’s hand hovered over him, and Honey’s eyes widened.

  “Letty!” Daisy’s eyes bugged.

  “It’s all curled up like a giant clam. I just wanted to see how big—”

  “Honey can tell us later.”

  When the boots and trousers dropped to the floor, both church ladies gave him one last head-to-foot glance. “Just want to make sure he’s not too badly bruised,” Daisy murmured.

  “I think you’ve done enough, ladies,” Honey said, gritting her teeth. She loved them both, but they’d landed her in a pile of manure without a shovel to dig her way out.

  “Wait.” Letty dug into the pockets at the sides of her wide skirts. She pulled out two short pieces of rope and quickly tied his hands to the bed posts. When she was done, she shook her head. “Gives a woman ideas.”

  Daisy gave Honey a quick hug. “Follow your heart,” she whispered and then tugged on Letty’s sleeve.

  Letty gave her a bone-crunching hug. “And if your heart’s not in it—remember there’s always revenge.”

  The ladies piled onto horses and wagons and waved happily at Honey as they headed back down the road.

  Honey took a deep breath and turned around to face the man who’d haunted her dreams since she’d arrived.

  What to do with him now? Should she try to revive him, beg him for mercy and hope he didn’t arrest her on the spot? Or should she just let him sleep it off? She honestly didn’t know if her libido could take the torment. She’d never been presented such a ripe temptation in her entire life.

  Gazing longingly at his loins, she quickly came to the conclusion she was a weak-willed woman and she’d burn in hell for all the lewd possibilities flashing through her dirty little mind.

  Well, first she had to look her fill or she’d get a headache trying not to. Not that she needed much convincing.

  His body was a beautiful thing. So large he sprawled over the length and width of the narrow mattress, his size alone made her belly ache with need. She stepped closer and marveled at how well God had arranged all his…parts.

  Everything in proportion.

  Nearly everything lightly furred with dark, curling hair that looked shiny and silky soft. She didn’t resist the urge to touch him and combed her fingers through the hair on his chest.

  Just as she’d thought, it was soft and curled around her fingertips like it was trying to trap her hand against his skin.

  Her fingertips grazed a small, flat nipple and she paused to circle it, amazed when a small nub rose at its center. Were his nipples as sensitive as hers? Just looking at his naked body had her nipples poking at the front of her blouse. She circled the pad of one finger on the tiny tip.

  Then his giant clam pulsed and began to unfurl, drawing her fascinated glance back to the part of him she really had no business exploring. Her sense of fair play was stretched to its limit—snapping like a rubber band. Naked and restrained, the man was truly at the mercy of her discretion.

  Still manipulating his little nipple, Honey held her breath and watched as his cock slowly straightened until it nearly reached his belly button. Her cheeks grew warm and her belly tightened. Familiar now with the signs of desire, she knew she should just throw a blanket over him. He’d made his feelings clear where she was concerned. While he might be aroused by her, her unconventional lifestyle put her beyond the pale in his eyes. He’d all but said he considered her a whore.

  But the temptation his naked form embodied was just too hard to ignore. That he was unconscious only seemed to sweeten the lure, and the devil whispering in her ear reminded her she had a score to settle.

  Yet she feared he’d waken while she took advantage of his helpless state. How would she explain herself? Could she live down the humiliation?

  She leaned close to his face. “Sheriff,” she said softly, but he didn’t move. Not an eyelash blinked. His eyelashes were dark and thick, and when she ruffled them with a finger, they felt like soft bristles. Again, he didn’t react.

  She cupped his cheek and felt the coarse whiskers that shadowed his strong, square jaw. Leaning closer, she rubbed her cheek against his and felt the friction that excited her all the more. Her true fascination lay in all the ways their bodies differed. The most prominent being the thick, ridged cock that lay against his belly.

  Darker, ruddier in color than the rest of his skin, his sex was fascinating. And the blunt cap crowning his…member…was surprisingly spongy to the touch—which she discovered when she gave it a timid poke with her finger. Beneath the ridge surrounding the crown, his shaft was anything but soft. She lightly scraped a fingernail along his shaft, all the while scolding herself for her wicked curiosity.

  His cock jerked, which made her gasp, and she felt her own sex tighten and pulse. How odd they seemed so in tune.

  Another sweeping glance and she noted the powerful swells of his chest muscles and the tapering of his narrow waist. She skipped over his sex and followed the curves of his massive thighs and calves all the way down to his large feet and toes.

  Was there a part of him she didn’t want to touch?

  The ladies had made sure she could have her wicked way with him—if she had the courage to try.

  A light, warm breeze wafted through the wagon, reminding her the door was wide open and anyone who might approach her camp would have a helluva view inside, despite the waning daylight.

  She closed the wooden door and leaned her back against it, biting her lip as she fought with her conscience…and lost.

  He’d touched her intimately. Made her feel things a woman only wants to feel with a man she truly cares about.

  That he couldn’t be that man didn’t matter now. She’d had years of loneliness to imagine what lying with a man might be like. Now she had one at her disposal to explore all the wicked wanton things she’d dreamed of sitting on her wagon seat, watching the homes she passed and daydreaming about the couples who lived inside.

  Only once before had she let herself be fooled that she could have that normal life, but the man who’d first turned her head had taken from her—just like this one had. That her first lover hadn’t fully consummated the act didn’t make her feel any better about herself.

  She’d been desperate for the feel of strong arms around her, a broad shoulder to rest her head upon. That Sheriff Tanner had, at first, seemed to be a decent sort of man and had indicated interest in her had once again turned her head.

  “Fool me once, shame on you,” she whispered. “Fool me twice, shame on me.”

  Well, if there was already shame to spread around, why go only halves? Staring at his wakening cock, she reached behind her and unbuttoned her blouse and hung it on a hook. Then she stepped out of her skirt. Dressed only in her chemise, she decided she didn’t look nearly wanton enough.

  She dug through her dresser for her favorite corset—a black confection of lace and satin with bright red lacings up the front. She tore off her chemise and donned the corset, lacing it so tightly her breasts spilled over the top.

  Then she did the wickedest thing she could imagine, she shucked her pantalets, drew thin stockings up her bare legs and fastened them with frilly black garters.

  She didn’t particularly care what he’d think when he first spied her standing nearly naked in front of him. This was all about how she felt.

  Wanton. Free. A little scared, but determined she’d have him—if only to satisfy herself for once. When this night was over, there wouldn’t be a craving she hadn’t tried to feed or a part of her body that didn’t know his touch.

  Chapter Four

  Joe awoke slowly, drifting between clouds that sifted away one layer at a time, until at la
st he felt as though he lay trapped halfway between heaven and hell.

  The hell was his head hurt and his mouth was so dry it seemed stuffed with cotton balls. Worse, his wrists burned and his legs were wedged tight between something warm and soft.

  The heaven was the sensation engulfing his cock. A moist, humid heat surrounded and then deserted his sex, sucking relentlessly, wringing a dark delight that had his hips tensing as he attempted to lift them and follow the upward pulls rather than lose the warm, wet cocoon.

  A soft murmur—feminine, guttural—came from farther down his body and vibrated along his shaft. A woman then. A woman was pleasuring his cock.

  His eyes shot open and pain lanced through his head at the sight of the lantern hanging from a hook in the wooden ceiling. His gaze dropped to candles lining a dresser a short space away. Another quick glance around, and he realized he was either in a very small bedroom—or in the back of Honey Cafferty’s wagon. Despite the pain that lanced through his head, he lifted it to confirm the source of his torment.

  Light glinted gold on the cloud of red hair surrounding his loins, and Joe couldn’t help the leap of fierce joy that filled his chest, creating an aching warmth that left him deeply moved.

  Until he remembered all the reasons this woman was all wrong for him.

  He remembered the first day she’d stopped her colorful wooden wagon in front of the mercantile. He’d marveled at the design. It looked rather like a giant oak barrel on wheels, a completely enclosed living space, painted with primitive pictures of Indian villages, churches and saloons with a trail that stretched all along its length to tell the story of its travels.

  When Honey had stepped down from beneath the eave that kept the sun and rain from the wagon seat, she’d lowered the gate that stretched along one side of the wagon and quickly set out colorful bottles, their labels decorated with drawings of pyramids and castles.

  When she’d started to call to the people gawking at her odd conveyance, he’d stood in the shadows, smiling at how easily she’d drawn them in with her charm and radiant smiles. He’d been drawn as well, stepping off the walkway to stand at the edge of the gathering crowd just to listen to her voice, which was flavored with a hint of brogue and Texas twang. He’d been captivated like everyone else.