Highroad

by Jeanie P Johnson

  “Love should not be hurried,” he mumbled.

  “This is not love,” she told him with bitterness to her tone. “This is rape!”

  “I will not do anything you don’t wish me to do,” he informed her.

  “Then don’t touch me,” she begged.

  “Sorry, love, but that is one thing I must do, but don’t worry. I will do it very gently.” She felt the weight of his body, as he sat on the bed beside her, “When I am finished, you will discover that everything I do, you will wish me to do. Perhaps even a second time.”

  “Never,” her voice trembled, as she felt his face come closer to hers and she was aware of the sent of his cologne. It smelled vaguely familiar, but many men wore the same cologne, she reasoned.

  The feel of the Irishman’s lips brushed across her forehead, and then he was gently kissing her eyes, moving down over her cheek, ever so slowly, and then hesitating at the corner of her mouth. His breath smelled sweet, like mint of some sort, and she found herself parting her lips slightly in anticipation of his kiss, but he merely moved to the other corner of her mouth, touching her skin gently with his lips, as he continued to kiss her face. She wondered if this was the way the men in her life had felt when she teased them with her words and body? It gave her a new perspective on the art of flirting and kissing.

  Lavonia could feel her skin dimple, at every touch of his lips, and she willed him to return to her lips, while fearing it at the same time, that he would. But she had seen how he had kissed Marybeth, and knew what to expect. When at last, his lips did touch hers, it was not what she expected. He moved slow and easy against her lips, nibbling lightly with his teeth, and then sucking her bottom lip into his mouth, and the feel of his lips sucking against hers made her body turn inside out. She was trying to figure out who was making that low sound, and she realized it was herself, moaning against his lips.

  The pressure of his tongue, pushing gently against her teeth, stirred her being, and while she resolved to hold him off, she found herself opening her mouth, allowing him to dance his tongue against her own. The feel was maddeningly exciting, and her mouth opened wider still, until it felt like he was consuming her, through that single kiss.

  Lavonia heard a soft low laugh, come from the Irishman’s throat. “You want this, don’t you, love?” he accused. “Like I told you, I will only do what you wish, and you have shown me, this is what you desire.”

  “You have me at your mercy,” she whimpered. “Do you want me to fight you? I realize it will do me little good.”

  “I always enjoy an intelligent woman,” he chuckled, and she felt his lips sliding down her neck, onto her shoulder, as his hands began to softly caress her skin.

  Lavonia shivered under the Irishman’s touch, as he began to examine her upturned breasts, with tenderness, and practiced fingers. Lavonia, let out a sigh, and he covered that sigh with his mouth for a long moment, until she was clinging to his neck, returning the kiss with the same passion he was giving it.

  Yes, my sweet Lavonia, he cried inside. You are being woken up to the pleasures of a kiss, and so much more. He knew she was capable of passion, once she was introduced to what pleasures it could bring. He lowered his mouth down over one breast and began to drink her in, and his reward was that she cried out in pleasure. “Is this what you wish?” he asked, when he lifted his head from her soft warm skin.

  “It seems you must know what I wish, before I ask it,” she whispered.

  “Then I shall continue,” he informed her, and captured the other breast.

  Something stirred inside of her, that Lavonia was trying to understand. This was not turning out like her wedding night, and it made her feel puzzled. His nibbles and caresses with his tongue and teeth, was pushing her to the brink of an unexplainable needing that was starting to grow within her. But this was a stranger. She should not be feeling like this under his touch, she chided herself, and tried to stop the want that was growing in her against her will.

  When she felt his lips slide to the dip of her navel, she stiffened. “No,” she whispered. “Not there,”

  “Patience, love. Give it time,” he murmured, pushing his tongue flat against her skin, continuing to create paths over her stomach, as he felt her skin shiver against his tongue.

  “But you can’t,” she insisted.

  “But I will,” he responded.

  She decided to be stubborn and refused to yield. Unexpectedly, she felt his breath on her, that took her unaware, and against her will, she found herself yielding to him, allowing him to have his way, and she became lost in an ocean of emotions and longing, as his caresses washed over her, bringing out the very essence of her soul, and causing it to soar overhead.

  “You did not know you wished that, did you?” he whispered, as he lay over her, working his body up between those sweet firm thigh. Those thighs that he had seen hugging the sides of a horse, the way he wanted to feel them hugging against him. He found her mouth again, as his body crushed against her, and she lay soaking in what he had just brought to the surface, only moments before.

  Now Grange had her where he wanted her, and he almost felt guilty for what he was about to do, but she was not the flirting virgin she had once been. Her womanhood had been rudely awakened by the crudeness of a man she detested, and now he was determined to heal the wounds Max had inflicted.

  Lavonia, felt him pressing there, and it brought back horrible memories of Max, which caused her to stiffen. But Irish was not demanding, or groping. He was taking his time, coaxing her to accept him, in a way she never thought she would ever do.

  “Relax, love,” he coaxed. “It is not as bad as you seem to believe it will be.”

  She didn’t believe him, but he had her at his mercy, and she could not stop what he was in the process of doing. The sensations that it caused, caught her by surprise. Somehow, he was causing a needing to rise up from within her, and she found herself anticipating that need, moving in a way, that made her part of the dance, welcoming his embrace, and finally expanding into that twilight place that took over her entire being. In the moment of her own rapture, she heard him give a low murmur, and she thought she heard him whisper, “I love you,” but she wasn’t sure, because he had called her love so many times during the night.

  As her heart slowly calmed, and she reveled in this new surprising experience, he arose from the bed, and she could hear him sloshing something in water, and then he was there again, with a damp cloth, wiping away his essence from her body.

  She lay shivering. “Do you wish another session?” he asked softly. “If not I will get dressed.”

  “I think you have taken everything from me that you planned on, and more,” she murmured. “If I ever discover who you are, I will have you hanged.” The problem with her statement, was that she could not put any force behind the words, and though she longed for more of his touch, she would not lower herself to asking him for more.

  “I thought you enjoyed it,” he said in surprise.

  “It is still rape,” she responded.

  He laughed. “You can’t even admit you enjoyed it, can you?”

  “You can get dressed now,” she said stiffly. “I do not wish a repeat, even though your ego seems to think what you did may endear you to me.”

  “That I will do then,” he responded, abruptly. The sound of his voice had changed, and all tenderness had been removed. She heard him walk across the room, and listened to the movement he made as he pulled his clothes back on. A few minutes later he lit the candle. He was dressed with his mask back on. “Now you can get dressed,” he instructed, and picked up her clothes and threw them at her, giving her a harsh laugh. Lavonia knew she had injured his pride with her words. It made her smugly satisfied.

  Garth watched her as she put her clothes on. Max had ruined her, even though everything he had done, was to try and erase the memory of her wedding night away. But she was right. It had been rape. Even if it was a gentle rape, he took her against her will. He prayed
she never discovered who he really was, or she would hate him as much as she hated Max.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Lavonia barely had time to change into her highwayman outfit, in order to meet the Irishman at the highroad at midnight. He had taken half the night making her body go crazy, and she was so angry at him she was afraid he would discover she was a woman, when she met him that night. Not only had he been marauding on his own, but he probably did this to every woman he found alone in a carriage. Her opinion of him had melted the lowest point it could, and she hated the man. But if she continued her highwayman occupation, she was going to be stuck with him. She wasn’t sure how she was going to handle it?

  Her body still tingled all over from what he had been doing to her, and her wits were at war, hating him for doing it, while enjoying the touch of his hand and mouth. Now she understood the pleasures that Grange had eluded to. The thought of taking on a lover, actually started to jell in her head. The problem was finding someone like the Irishman, who knew what they were doing. How did one discover that, she wondered?

  She did not want to meet him tonight, but if she didn’t he would try taking over her territory, and she would have to stop going out at night like this. Considering it was not just the thrill, but the money she needed, she could not afford to stop until she had enough to make her feel secure.

  She was already late, and he may go on with out her, probably to ravish another woman, considering he had offered to ravish her again, she thought angrily to herself. Thinking about it, brought a fresh blush to her face. The way his mouth had covered her body, and the way he brought her alive with his manhood, filled her senses. She could not believe that it had happened, and the horrible part was, it was something she wouldn’t mind experiencing again.

  She thought of all the times she vowed never to have a man handle her like that, and now she repented of those vows, but surely he would not stop her carriage twice, in order to carry her away with him. She thought about Grange offering to become her lover, but she would go to the Irishman, before she would ever bow to Grange’s wishes. He would revel in the fact that she accepted him as a lover, and never let her live it down. She could not give him that satisfaction! Besides she did not know what kind of lover Grange would turn out to be.?

  “You’re late! I thought you weren’t going to show,” the Irishman growled. He thought he had taught Lavonia a lesson, and still she sends her man out!

  For someone who had just had his way with a woman, he certainly seemed grumpy, Lavonia thought. She tried to calm her heart, as she rode up to him. She couldn’t even rant at him about working on his own, or ravishing a woman, since there was no way she was supposed to have known about his activities. All she could do was glare at him through the slits of her mask.

  “You seem out of breath,” he said after a moment.

  “You seem angry,” she returned. “Had a bad night so far?”

  “Women trouble,” he muttered.

  “Really? I thought you were the one who knew how to treat women,” she taunted.

  “Some women are more tricky than others,” he sort of chuckled.

  “Do you have a permanent woman?” she asked, knowing if he did, he was deceiving her.

  “There is one that I thought I wanted, but I am about to give up, right about now,” he grumbled.

  “I suggest you just steer clear of women. They are just a bother, anyway.”

  “Little you know about women,” he insisted. “Perhaps you are too young to realize it yet, but when a woman gets stuck in your head, it is hard to get her out. It doesn’t matter how many other women I have, I just can’t shake her.”

  “Does she know you feel this way about her?” Lavonia asked, thinking that maybe the reason he had abducted her that night was to try and erase the other woman out of his mind.

  “It wouldn’t do any good to tell her. She would merely laugh in my face. She would like to see me laid low.”

  “You must have done something that displeased her,” Lavonia suggested.

  “Perhaps. At least I know a few things I have done that displeased her,” and he started laughing. “Enough of my love problems. Do you have anyone special?”

  “Like you say, I am too young. I would rather keep my distance.”

  “Perhaps I could introduce you to some,” he suggested, “and maybe you would change your tune.”

  “Apparently you are not having much luck yourself,” she laughed. “Perhaps you will have to resort to abducting women off the road, instead of just kissing them when you rob them,” she said, hoping it hit home.

  “Not a bad idea,” he smiled, and Lavonia frowned. The bastard, she thought to herself. She wished she hadn’t enjoyed his touch so much!

  “We had better go,” he mumbled, “or we are going to miss our carriage.

  The robbery went off without a hitch. He had picked a carriage that did not hold women, and she idly wondered why, but it was just as well, because she did not want to watch him kissing anyone at the moment. She could still feel his kiss on her own lips. She wondered if there was some way to expose who he was, but if she did that, he may discover a way to expose her as well. It was better she remained his friend, until she did not need his help any longer, she decided.

  Lavonia fell into her bed exhausted. Hours with a man ravaging her body, and then meeting together with that same man, to rob a carriage, had taken its toll. All she could think of was sleep, but when she finally pulled the covers up over her shoulders, she discovered all she could think of was the Irishman. He had said something about a woman getting stuck in his head. Now she found a man who was stuck in her head, and there was nothing she could do. He was in love with someone else, and had just used her body to try and forget the woman who actually held his heart, and besides he was a highwayman, for God’s sake!

  Lavonia started laughing. Wasn’t she a highwayman as well? Who was she to judge? Tomorrow, she decided, she would go ridding in the park, on Thunderbolt. She hadn’t joined the social crowd for some time on her horse, and she found she had missed it. There were no rules about widows not riding a horse. She needed something to distract her mind, and if she sat in the house, it would just make her feel worse, with her mind full of the Irishman.

  “Quite a feisty mount,” Grange commented, when he saw Lavonia riding up on a black stallion. Better than that nag he had seen her on before. The horse looked familiar, though, and he was trying to place it.

  “It belonged to Max. The only thing he left me that I even care about,” she informed him.

  She was ridding astride, as usual, with her long black skirt blending in with the color of the horse, as it laid over his rump. Grange, gave a chuckle to himself, as he looked at her flushed cheeks. She looked like a woman who had finally been loved the way she was meant to be. How dare she pretend that she didn’t enjoy it!

  “You look marvelously alive today,” he smiled. “If I didn’t know better, darling, I would say you have taken on a lover.” It was obvious she was not going to mention her encounter with the highway man, he thought darkly to himself.

  Her eyes flashed up at him, which was just what he wanted, and then they calmed and smoldered. “I have been thinking about it,” she smiled back, “only of all the men I have met over the years, I can’t imagine any who would fit the bill.”

  “Sorry to hear that. I believe, though, that taking on a lover would do you a world of good.”

  “If it weren’t so disgusting, having a man poking at you the way they do,” she smirked.

  “Poking?” he chuckled.

  “Well you know they are such…..why am I talking to you about this? You know perfectly well what I am referring to.”

  “If you say so,” he laughed. “Are you still angry at me?” he asked, hoping to repair the bridge between them.

  “You are as crude as every other man I have met. I don’t think I can trust you, Grange. You are set on humiliating me when ever you find the opportunity.”

  “You
know that isn’t true,” he denied.

  “If not through your rag, you try it in person,” she accused.

  “I’m sorry for what I did the last time we were together, Lavonia. I was off my mark that day,” he pleaded.

  “It has already been done. You were trying to compromise me into marrying you, and you know it.”

  “I would never compromise you into marrying me. If I ever marry someone it will be because we both wish it,” he informed her.

  “Then heaven knows why you were handling me so,” she said, tapping her horse into a trot.

  “You’re beauty just overwhelmed me,” he insisted, catching up with her.

  “Really, Grange. You think I will believe that? If that were the case you would have your hand down every woman’s dress, in this town!”

  “Not that I wouldn’t want to,” he chuckled.

  “See? That is exactly what I mean!” she spouted.

  “Say you forgive me,” he insisted.

  “I will think about it,” she said. “That is as close as you are going to get to forgiveness.”

  “I will take any scrap you throw,” he smiled.

  “Have you gotten your interview with any of the Highwaymen?” she asked, changing the subject.

  “I don’t think they would just allow me to come up and question them,” he laughed. “I would have to discover who they were first.”

  “Such a challenge. You have always been up for a challenge, haven’t you Grange?”

  “Some are harder than others,” he murmured, watching her as she set her horse, and held her hands in a certain way, and then his eyes widened. He remembered where he had seen that horse. He was having a hard time believing it, but the next time he went out on the road again, he was going to find out for sure. “Perhaps I will get that interview yet,” he smiled, and then tipped his hat and rode on.

  Lavonia shrugged. How could Grange tell she had been made love to? Was she that obvious? He was the one person who always seemed to know what she was thinking, or about to do. He seemed to read her like a book, which was what frightened her. Next he would guess that she was the highwayman, and then it would be splattered all over his paper. He would have her at last, at even a lower point than marrying Max. And he would take unforgivable pleasure in exposing her, she was sure. Everything he ever did was an effort to punish her for rejecting his proposal in marriage. Why did he continue to carry the grudge, she wondered?