Desperate Hearts

by Alexis Harrington

  “God, you are beautiful, even dressed like this,” he said, wonder in his voice. “I never wanted to kiss a woman”—he lowered his head to her lips—“so much.”

  The moment their lips met, Kyla moaned. His mouth on hers was hot and slick and insistent, and his he probed the soft recesses of her mouth. Her heart pounded with the spark he kindled, not with terror. He pulled back to look at her with a hungry, feral gaze, but still she was not afraid.

  His free hand roamed her shoulder and arm, and it seemed as if he left a trail of fire behind. Finally she felt his warm palm slide up her ribs to her unbound breast. Her breath caught, and he sealed it in her throat with another kiss, this one more fevered than the last.

  “Kyla, God, honey,” he groaned low in his throat, sounding like a man who was trying to save his own life. With proficient dexterity, he worked open the buttons of her shirt to find her bare skin.

  Jace heard her formless whimper as she timidly let her hands glide over his chest. Never had he known a need so fierce. Still, the woman responsible for the grinding ache in his groin required that he go slowly, carefully. The full weight of his responsibility to was not lost on him, and he bore it gravely. But goddamn, how would he hold on when even now, early in their lovemaking, the throbbing low in belly was nearly unbearable? Weeks of denial and unsatisfied temptation had reached a flash point. It was the sweetest torture he’d ever experienced.

  Her eyes were cobalt and heavy-lidded with arousal. Just one shirt button remained and he reached for it as though it were the lock on a treasure house. When he opened it, he saw a metallic glimmer on her creamy skin. Looking closer, he realized it was the gold locket he’d given her.

  “You kept your necklace on.”

  She looked up at him, innocent desire suffusing her features. She took his hand and placed it over heart-shaped pendant, and covered it with her own. “It’s the nicest thing anyone ever gave me.”

  That she’d left it on, wearing it close to her heart, touched him in a way he would not have expected. He had chosen that necklace just for her, and although the rest of her things had been lost, the locket remained. He lifted her hand and kissed her palm.

  Opening her shirt then, he folded back one side at time to uncover the smooth, ripe breasts he had glimpsed the day she was shot. He had felt like a low down weasel for looking at her then, and in the days that had followed while she was sick. Now, though, she was healthy and yielding, and he gazed upon her like a starving man at a banquet table.

  “May I take off your shirt?” he asked.

  She lifted her hand and gripped her sleeve where he her arm bore the scar of her gunshot wound. “Oh, do you have to?” Her voice sounded small and self-conscious. “I mean, my arm looks . . .” The sentence hung unfinished.

  Damn it, he swore to himself, so much had been taken from her. He lifted her hand away and pressed a kiss on her knuckles, then carried it higher to the scar his own shoulder.

  “Hell, sweetheart, you’re in good company.” He chuckled, trying to keep his tone light. Then he added seriously, “I won’t see anything but you.”

  For several moments, Kyla lay motionless, her eyes his shoulder. Finally, she sat up and pulled her arms from her sleeves, baring a curved alabaster torso that made Jace swallow hard. The fullness of her breasts was accentuated by the curve of her waist and flare of her hips.

  “Just as I remember,” he admitted, fighting the urge hide his face against her breast and inhale the scent her fragrant flesh.

  The shiny red wound on her arm was an outrage, a senseless defilement of perfection. But it was also a mark of courage and honor, and she wore it well.

  “Beautiful Kyla," he murmured, his gaze touching here there. She smiled shyly, and his heart lightened.

  Gently pressing her back to the bedroll, he ran his hand over her flesh and felt her erect nipple graze palm. At last giving into his craving, he dipped his head and closed his lips on one firm coral peak.

  Kyla gasped and arched against his mouth, her spine curving away from the blankets. The light tug on her nipple sent arrows of pleasure shooting do to her abdomen where a pulse began to throb, hot and liquid.

  This . . . was this how it was supposed to between a man and a woman? The endearments, the caresses? This tender fire that sent flames licking through every part of her body?

  But when Jace rocked his pelvis against her leg, she felt his arousal, hard and full, her fear took over. Whether or not she wanted them, dark, fearsome memories crowded into her heart to steal the pleasure Jace was giving her.

  Obviously sensing her anxiety, he backed away so that their bodies didn’t touch. His face reflected a blend of need and concern. “Have you changed your mind?” he asked quietly.

  She shook her head. “No, I just—that night—” She turned her head away. “Oh, it’s hard to explain.”

  “But not so hard to understand. You have to realize how big a difference there is between then and now.” He propped his head on his hand and stared down at her while he stroked her cheek with the back of his finger. “A year ago, you had no say, no choice. Tonight you’re the one in charge. We’re here because you asked to do this. It’s all up to you.”

  “Really?”

  His soothing touch moved to her hair. “It was that way from the minute we started this. If you want to stop right now, then we will.”

  “I don’t want to stop, but—“ She cast a quick, embarrassed glance down his torso to his very evident hardness straining his fly buttons.

  Catching the path of her gaze, he said, “Remember, it won’t hurt.”

  She nodded, not completely convinced.

  “Trust me," he whispered and crowded close again. “I’ll do everything I can to make it right for you.” With one arm under her shoulders, he kissed her while his other hand roamed more freely on her body, over her

  denim-clad legs and up the insides of her thighs. Finally he reached the heat at their apex and pressed his hand against it, hard.

  Kyle moaned, forgetting to be frightened or self conscious. A need much more primitive and demanding took over then, and she lifted her hips to press back. He continued this sweet agony for several moments, until finally he sat up and pulled off her boots and then his own.

  With a dreamy languor, she lay against the blankets, watching him unbuckle his belt and rip open his fly buttons with one sharp tug. Impatiently he shed his jeans and kicked them away, revealing his lean, fully erect body. Would he do the same to her?

  As if reading her thoughts, he laid his hand on her belt buckle. He didn’t speak, but he sought her permission with his eyes. She let her hands rest at her sides, giving it to him.

  And in a moment, she lay beside him, bare skin against bare skin. He was lean and long and beautiful to look at. Perhaps he wasn’t tall, but his torso was finely wrought with sinew and bone, and led to tight, lean hips and legs that were hard with saddle muscles.

  Jace gazed at her nakedness with ravenous eyes, as if he would devour her, but not hurt her. He dropped his head to tease her nipple again, then blazed a path of warm, moist kisses that began at her throat and wandered feverishly over her breasts and stomach. His hair trailed softly behind the kisses, like the brush of feathers on her skin.

  No, this was nothing like what she had expected, this tender assault on her senses. She could not have anticipated the sensation that she felt between her legs and in her womb, a feeling that was both thrilling and frustrating, as if even more awaited her.

  Her frustration climbed to a new level when Jace’s fingertips drifted down her abdomen, lower, lower until they caressed the wet, aching want of her.

  “Jace," she gasped, writhing under his ministrations. Hot and slick, like tongues of fire he stroked her deftly while he muttered a stream of endearments in her ear. She lay beneath his hand in sweet, helpless torment, inflamed by his touch. “Oh, God, Jace, please—“

  “Do you want me to stop?” he asked again. His own breathing had grown labored an
d his voice sounded hoarse, but she thought she heard a smile in his question.

  “Yes—no, don’t—” Kyla didn’t know how long she could endure this. Every nerve in her body sizzled and her heart thundered as if she had been running with all her strength. Nearing a state of delirium, she heard a woman’s voice begging her lover to help end the agony.

  “This is what you need, the way it should be,” Jace whispered roughly.

  Then he leaned over and kissed her again, and the strokes on her sensitive flesh came faster and harder, doubling in their intensity, pushing her closer to a dark chasm that would surely consume her in a white-hot fire.

  Suddenly, the heaviness gripped her in a tight knot and silence fell, as if the world held its breath. Then waves of spasms wracked Kyla, hot and fierce and deep, as her body triumphed in its struggle to surrender to Jace. She turned her face into his shoulder, muffling her sobs.

  Kyla’s intense release had pushed Jace to a fever-pitch. He pulled her beneath him, hoping he wouldn’t frighten her, but she tensed as soon as she felt his weight on her. And when he tried to part her legs, she grew rigid and gripped the blanket beneath her in both fists. Maybe asking her to help him was the best way to quiet her apprehension.

  “I won’t hurt you,” he said softly. Bracketing her face between his hands, he dropped swift kisses on cheeks and temples. “I swear I won’t. This is going be so different. This is going to be your first time, and it’s going to be with me. Your first time making love. Do you believe me?” He gazed down at her, his face just a couple of inches from hers.

  She lifted her eyes to his. He saw fear there, but he saw trust too. “I believe you."

  “I need your help, honey,” he said, and her tension He pressed his forehead to hers. “Will you open legs to me?”

  “Yes," she sighed and shifted her legs to accommodate him.

  With an incoherent groan, Jace gently entered her with a long, slow stroke. She drew a sharp breath and tilted her hips upward to take him into herself. Her sweet warmth surrounded him, grasping him in a liquid glove. By joining himself to her, he thought he’d never felt so whole, so complete, or so distant from his solitary existence.

  But the demands of his body had reached an urgent level and he began moving in her, working toward the release that he’d held in tight check in order to give her pleasure first. He lifted himself to the full length of his arms, and his thrusts grew hard and short.

  Kyla lay beneath Jace, filled with him, awed by him, overwhelmed with the sensation of completeness. She watched the long column of his throat, surprised to feel restless, knife-edged passion rebuilding with each stroke. He was beautiful, every part of him. The muscles in his arms flexed as he strained against her body, advancing and ebbing. Faster and faster he thrust into her. Sweat bathed him and his breathing matched his movements. He pulled her toward a vortex that would either deliver her, or send her spinning into a dark oblivion.

  When she was certain that she could bear no more of this renewed torment, with a hard thrust he pushed her over the edge to release. Her muscles clamped down around him in a surge of pleasure that made her call his name in a high, thin wail, and stole her heart away, surely, completely, irretrievably.

  He dropped his head to hers, covering her mouth with a desperate kiss. Then with what seemed like the last of his strength, he plunged forward, and a sobbing groan rose from his chest while his body convulsed with swift, hot pulsations that poured into Kyla.

  He rested with his face turned into her neck and she wrapped her arms around him, waiting for their breathing to slow. His heart thudded against her own, powerful and steady.

  “Are you okay?” he asked finally, his head still resting against her shoulder. He shifted his weight to avoid crushing her, but they remained joined.

  She nodded, feeling amazed and honored. “You were right, Jace. It was completely different.”

  “The way it’s supposed to be,” he said and kissed her eyelids and temples.

  The way it was supposed to be, she echoed in her mind. Giving and receiving. Yes, it was frantic and turbulent and urgent. But not humiliating, not violent or painful.

  He was hers now, even if she were never to see him again after this moment. And she was his, branded by his touch. Ripening love that she had kept hidden from herself, that she had compelled to remain in darkness, now bloomed. Germinating in the days of her convalescence in Misfortune, it had waited for this moment of heat and passion to spring forth, and would no longer be denied. The wound on her spirit caused by Hardesty’s cruelty was not erased, but it had begun healing when she met Jace, and now was closed. A confusion of emotions clashed within her, joy, acceptance, despair.

  Jace rolled over with a low, sated groan, taking Kyla with him to nestle against his side. He drew the blanket to her chin. His arms and legs were as heavy as lead, completely relaxed, and despite the hard floor beneath them, he knew that he would sleep well for the first time in months.

  He refused to think about what tomorrow or next week would bring. Life provided plenty of opportunities to worry and brood—he wouldn’t miss anything by passing on the chance now.

  Tonight, he would sleep with Kyla in his arms, and pretend that the world beyond these rough walls didn’t exist.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Jace woke with a start, the sound of heavy steps nearby breaking into his sleep. Chilled and disoriented, he wondered what weight anchored him to the earth. Then he detected the smell of sage and realized that Kyla slept with her head on his shoulder. Her bare softness kept one side of him warm.

  Briefly, he lifted the blanket to study her creamy nakedness. Her breast was flattened against his ribs and she lay with her arm looped around his middle. He smiled.

  In the gray-blue dawn, he scanned his surroundings and remembered where they were. Overhead, the rain had slowed to an occasional drip. That would give them a break. Yesterday had been a wild, exhausting day for them both, fighting the weather, surviving their narrow escape from the mountains, and his gut-twisting fear when he’d seen Kyla fall.

  But this morning, Jace felt completely rested, almost renewed. Her legs tangled with his, Kyla stirred in her sleep, and he knew the reason for his sense of well-being. Last night . . .

  Something had happened to him that went far beyond any experience he’d had with a saloon girl. Certainly he’d met a few with skills so amazing they’d left him exhausted and drained dry. But then he’d gotten up from their well-worn beds and ridden away without a backward glance. Money paid, service received. Not much different from buying a haircut or a meal.

  Last night had been a sharing of souls and bodies, basic and honest, having little to do with expertise. He’d made love for the first time in his life. And he felt humbled by it.

  Life, and the work he had chosen, had forced Jace into a loner’s existence. He’d grown accustomed to that, to the isolation. Sometimes he’d hated the fact that his only company was his thoughts, but it was all he knew and he was used to it.

  A few hours ago, though, the woman lying next to him had breached that solitude. He had thought only to comfort her. He hadn’t realized that he would lose part of himself, and regain much more.

  That empty space in him was stirring to life, making him look beyond today and next week to wonder, what then? What would happen after Blakely?

  Impatiently, he pushed off the blanket. Nothing would happen, he reminded himself, pulling his mind away from the hazy, half-formed images there. He would go his way, because there was nothing else he could do. And Kyla would withdraw to a corner of his heart to become a bittersweet memory that he would take out to savor in the years of rainy nights yet to come.

  Now, though, he had to see this through, the thing with Hardesty, to give Kyla a safe future after he was gone. And it wasn’t going to be easy. He kissed her forehead, and allowed himself the luxury of running his hand down her silky back and buttocks just once before disentangling from her embrace. She made a soft little compl
aint in her sleep and rolled over, pulling the blanket tight around her.

  Those heavy footsteps—there they were again, this time accompanied by the jingle of bridle and bit, just on the other side of the thin wall. Jace paused with his head down to listen—damn, someone was out there. Plucking his gun belt from his gear, silently he crept to the window with a cool, detached calm, his revolver firmly in his grip. Nakedness might be his disadvantage, but his deliberate control and the ability to focus on survival made up for it.

  What he saw, though, only made him laugh and he let the gun drop to his side. “Damn, son, we thought you were dead,” he called to Juniper, Kyla’s dun gelding. The horse looked fit and uninjured, and still wore his saddle, although it was pretty soaked.

  Turning to the stove, he stoked it to get the fire going again, then pulled on his pants and boots to go outside to dip water from an old rain barrel he spotted near the window. A noisy search of the few items left behind in the cabin turned up a cast-iron pot. Kyla slept through the racket.

  “Come on, sweetheart, wake up,” he said, and his face grew warm. The endearment slipped out too readily, too comfortably. He gestured at the stove. “I’ve got some water heating for you here if you want to, you know, um, wash.” Jesus, he was stumbling around like a tongue-tied schoolboy.

  Kyla stirred unwillingly, and opened her eyes to find Jace towering over her. From her place on the floor, she looked straight up one long, denim-covered leg, past the swell behind his fly buttons and beyond his flat belly to his eyes. He dropped to a crouch beside her and rested his arms on his knees. He was so handsome, especially now, tousled and shirtless from sleep.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked and reached for his dry shirt where it hung on the back of the chair.