Taming of Jessi Rose

by Beverly Jenkins

  “You know, Griffin, if this was snakebite, I’d know how to treat it.”

  Hearing his given name come uncoaxed from her lips gave him more pleasure than he’d ever imagined. “If what was snakebite?”

  “Whatever this is you’ve put in my blood.”

  Griffin felt himself become aroused by the implications in her smoky voice. Even though she was half-hidden by shadows, he could feel her intensity projecting his way.

  “I’ve been sitting here wondering what it would take to cure me,” she said. “Being attracted to you is neither rational nor logical.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it just isn’t. The last thing I need in my life is a man who flirts as easily as he breathes.”

  “But you are attracted to me.”

  “Yes…I am.”

  The confession made Griff smile. He crossed the room to where she sat. “You make it sound as if there’s something wrong with that.”

  She looked up at him. “There is. For one, you’re an outlaw—what woman in her right mind trusts an outlaw?”

  “I see.” He wanted to pull her into his arms right then and there, and prove to her how wrong he thought that thinking to be. “Stand up a minute for me, would you?” He held out his hands to assist her in rising.

  Jessi hesitated a moment as the questions continued to swirl in her head, but since no answers or solutions to her dilemma were forthcoming, she placed her hands in his and the connecting touch ricocheted through her blood like hot lead.

  He pulled her to her feet and they faced each other in the dark. Griff searched her shadow-shrouded eyes. His need to add himself to this woman’s life, if only for a little while, seemed to be growing in spite of the complications it might bring. He slowly ran his finger across her soft brown cheek, telling her quietly, “You can trust me…”

  Jessi’s eyes slid closed in response to the hushed voice and the caress. She knew she was being seduced and distracted away from the issue at hand, but right now she didn’t have the faculties to enter into a debate; right now, she was too busy rippling from his touch.

  He closed the space between them and brushed his lips across her cheek. “You really…really can trust me.”

  His mouth left her trembling jaw to journey to the sensitive, parted corners of her mouth, then touched it with a kiss that made her close her eyes again and made her legs feel like pudding. Using the same feather light pressure, he cajoled and soundlessly invited her to taste the passion he wanted her to share. His lips were knowing, a temptation she felt powerless to resist. When he pulled her into his arms and kissed her fully, Jessi’s whole world began to spin.

  The kiss was dazzling, potent. She ran her hands up his broad back and he fit her in even closer, making her feel the call of his strong body against her own. He whispered hotly against her ear, “Too bad you don’t think you can trust me…Jessi Rose…”

  The sound of him using her full name thrilled her almost as much as his masterful kiss.

  “Otherwise, I’d do this…” He tenderly filled his hands with her small breasts, testing their soft weight, feeling them burn the flesh of his palms. “And this…”

  He then rubbed at the berry hard nipples with the flats of his thumbs.

  Her soft gasps were audible, rising into the shadow-filled room like passion-filled notes of a song.

  His lips danced slowly over the edges of her neck. “If you weren’t so afraid to trust me, I’d undo these buttons and kiss you here…”

  Fitting actions to words, he undid the first two buttons of her shirt and brushed a fire-filled finger across the now exposed expanse of her trembling throat.

  “Griffin…” she breathed.

  “Yes, querida?”

  Jessi forgot what she’d been about to say. He’d called her darling, and now his lips were moving oh so possessively over the skin bared by her opened shirt. His hands were again on her breasts, teasing, seducing, then moving to undo more buttons. Jessi knew she should be protesting the liberties he was taking, but she was too swept up in the spiraling heat. She could do nothing but let him open her shirt and breathlessly wait for more.

  Griff couldn’t help himself either. Touching her, kissing her, and having her scents fill his senses made his manhood swell with need. “Too bad I don’t have your trust, Jessi Rose…” He bent his head and placed warm lingering kisses against the skin above the frayed lace of her cotton camisole. “Otherwise, I could love you like this…”

  He slid one side of the worn camisole aside and when his mustache brushed her now bared nipple, Jessi almost screamed in response. Her knees threatened to buckle as he set her afire with tiny, wanton licks. Her gasps increased from his suckling and the fervent nibbles from his love-gentled teeth.

  “Let’s see if the other is as sweet…” He eased the camisole down her shoulders, unveiling her fully to his glowing eyes and the sweet brazen pull of his lips. A sensuous moment later he raised his head, but continued to tease the damp, throbbing nubbin with a lazily circling finger. “Do you still think I’m not to be trusted?”

  Jessi couldn’t think, she could hardly stand, and if anyone asked her to spell her name, she wasn’t sure she could comply. Never in her life had a man set her so aflame. Never.

  “Look at me, Jessi…”

  Fighting through the haze, she complied. In spite of the shadows between them, she felt imprisoned by his powerful eyes, eyes certain to haunt her for the rest of her days.

  “Now, repeat after me…I, Jessi Rose Clayton…”

  Jessi found it very hard to respond due to the splendid distractions caused by his fingers magically plying the berried buds of her breasts. “I…Jessi Rose…ohhhh…”

  Hot sparks erupted as he suckled her yet again. The world teetered and her head slipped back as she fought to form speech. “How do you…expect me to speak …if you won’t let me…catch my breath?”

  “Not my problem,” he chuckled malely as he gave her one last glancing lick before straightening slowly once again. His fingers continued their lazy play, making her nipples blossom and plead. “You’re going to have to start again,” he told her. “Now say: I, Jessi Rose Clayton, can trust Griffin Blake.”

  Somehow, she managed to recite the words. “I—Jessi Rose Clayton, can trust Griffin…Blake…”

  “Perfect,” he whispered approvingly, and as a reward, he placed a soft kiss against her passion-swollen lips. “I’ll always be at your back, Jessi. Always.”

  Griffin looked down at her shimmering with passion and knew that he was about two seconds away from tumbling them both down onto the smooth wood floor and filling her with the hard depths of his passion. She was both fiery and beautiful, a temptation no man could resist, but it was too soon. Life had left her as spooked as a wild mare; she needed patience and he had plenty, at least for now. He bent to kiss her softly once again, whispering, “Go to bed, Jessi Rose, before I open more than this shirt.”

  The soft-spoken warning filled her with heat even though she knew he’d given her sound advice. He’d left her nearly incoherent and she’d left him hard as railroad iron.

  Still sharing short fiery kisses, they parted reluctantly as Jessi took a small step back. Their charged breathing sounded loud against the room’s silence. Under his watching eyes, she redid her buttons with fingers that trembled. Truth be told she wanted more. She knew it was a scandalous thing to admit, but she did.

  Once her shirt was righted, she felt a bit awkward facing him.

  “Did that cure you?” he asked, still hard with need.

  “No,” she confessed truthfully. “It didn’t.”

  “Didn’t cure me either. Guess we’ll have to try harder next time.”

  Jessi smiled but didn’t reply. She wondered if she would miss him as much as she believed she would once he headed off to Mexico. “Good night, Griffin.”

  “Night, Jessi Rose…”

  Back in her room, Jessi turned up the lamp and stood looking at herself in the bi
g standing mirror. Had she lost her mind? She must’ve. Why else would she let a man take such liberties? Because you enjoyed each and every minute of it, a small voice retorted knowingly. Even now, her nipples were still damp and singing, her lips hungering for more of his potent kisses. She’d definitely lost a bit of her mind back there and didn’t know if she’d ever be able to reclaim it. Undressing fully, she got into bed wondering if Gillie could concoct something for her to take to counteract his spells.

  The next morning, Jessi found Griffin on the roof again. When their eyes met, she felt an uncharacteristic shyness well up inside. “Good morning, Griffin.”

  “Morning, Jessi.”

  Carrying her coffee cup, she made her way to his side, then settled down beside him. The sunrise was just beginning. They shared a companionable silence for a moment.

  He asked, “Sleep well?”

  “I did.”

  When Jessi got out of bed this morning, she’d vowed to deal with Griffin as if nothing had happened last night, but something had, and her breasts seemed to want nothing more than to be bared again to his caress. She doubted well-raised women were supposed to have such yearnings, so she thought it best to turn her mind to less tumultuous thinking. “Was Auntie able to give you any information, last night?”

  Griff wanted to ask about Darcy but held back. “Yes, and she told me she saw Clem Davis in town the other day.”

  “So. he’s back.” Hearing his name brought back the painful memories spawned by that awful, stormy night. “I hope you plan on visiting him.”

  “I do.”

  “Good. In my father’s day, there wouldn’t’ve been a trial, Davis would’ve just been strung up. What else did Auntie have to say?”

  Griff told her then about Reed’s losing the funds of the investors.

  She mulled the information over for a moment. “So, that means he really needs my land now, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes, it does.”

  “I’m the last big landowner left. He’s getting ready to up the ante, I’ll bet.”

  Griff agreed and hoped his friends were on the way. He and the Claytons were going to need them.

  Jessi then voiced something she’d been worrying over for the past few days. “I think I’d feel better if Joth took his lessons at home with me for a while.”

  “That’s probably a good idea.”

  Jessi knew that if anything happened to her nephew, she’d shoot first and ask questions after the smoke cleared. If Davis were cowardly enough to shoot a man in the back in the dark, who knew the depths to which he’d sink to harm a child? “Joth’s not going to like this decision very much, though. He enjoys school.”

  “I know he does. He’s much smarter than I was at his age. Told me he might want to be an archaeologist, of all things, one day.”

  “Yes, he has big dreams. I just hope the country will give him the opportunity.”

  Everyone knew how desperate the situation had become for many members of the race in the South. The triumphs of Reconstruction were vanishing like the great herds of buffalo, and Black men were being killed their way to the polls to vote. Jessi wanted Joth to come of age in a time when his intellect would be valued but the horizon did not look hopeful. However the horror and violence of post-reconstruction and the kluxers notwithstanding, Texas had more higher education facilities for the race than many of the states up north. Black Texans were now able to attend Prairie View State Normal and Industrial College near the town of Walker; Wiley College, in Marshal; Paul Quinn College, founded near Waco in ’81 by a group of African Methodist ministers; Tillotson College, over near Austin; and Bishop College, another pioneering institution established in Marshal by a Baptist organization back in 1880. Maybe there was a chance for Joth.

  “Hey, are you still with me?”

  Jessi was brought back to the present by his soft teasing voice. She shook herself free of her brooding thoughts. “I’m sorry. Yes, I’m still here.”

  “Do we need to talk about last night?”

  Her eyes met his gaze. “I don’t know, do we?”

  “Should I apologize?”

  “No, that isn’t necessary. But…can I ask you something?”

  “Sure, shoot.”

  “Why do I feel like I wasn’t supposed to be enjoying what we did last night?”

  He searched her eyes and saw nothing but openness and honesty reflected there. He chose his answer carefully. “Because society puts a lot of fences around women, and not enjoying yourself is supposed to be one of them.”

  “So is enjoying it wrong?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t think so, but I’m a train robber, not a philosopher or a theologian. I guess every lady has to make up her own mind.”

  Jessi supposed he was right, but her questions were still unanswered.

  “Did you enjoy last night?” he asked her then.

  “My answer will only swell your head.”

  “I take it that means you did.”

  “I’m not answering you, Griffin Blake.”

  Her smile gave him all the answers he needed. “Good, I’m glad. Maybe we can do it again sometime soon.” His manner turned serious then, and he reached out and traced her mouth. “Never apologize for enjoying what you feel.” He kissed her softly but soundly, then turned her loose. “So, what do you have planned for today?”

  Still feeling the echoes of the kiss, she found it took a moment for her mind to get moving again. “I should probably go to town and speak with Joth’s teacher, Mr. Trent, about Joth taking his lessons at home. I’m fairly certain he’ll favor the decision. He likes Joth a lot.”

  “Need an escort?”

  “I’d love one.”

  Chapter 6

  As they prepared to leave, Jessi hoped her concern about leaving the house unguarded didn’t show in her face because she didn’t want to worry Joth. Hiding her feelings from Griffin turned out to be a bit more difficult.

  “Worried about Darcy’s men paying the house a visit while we’re gone?”

  She glanced over at him as she tightened the cinch on her saddle. He’d only been with them a little while but it seemed he was learning her all too well.

  “Yes, I am,” she admitted. “But since Darcy won’t know we’re coming into town, I’m counting on there not being enough time for him to send somebody out here before we get back.”

  Griff agreed with her logic, but he wanted to banish Darcy from her life once and for all. She shouldn’t have to worry about whether or not her home would still be standing when she returned from town. He wanted to tell her not to worry, that things around her would be changing soon, but Jessi was the kind of woman who needed to see action, not hear words, so he kept what he had to say inside.

  The sight of Joth leading his beloved Buttercup from the barn signaled it was time to go.

  “Me and Buttercup are ready. Aunt Jessi.”

  “Okay, then, let’s head out. You and Buttercup lead the way.”

  The mounted Jessi and Griffin followed Joth out to the road.

  When Jessi taught school in Vale nearly a decade ago, there’d been no schoolhouse. All learning had taken place in the field behind Doyle Keel’s blacksmith shop. Now the students were taught in the church. A few years back, there’d been talk about building a real school, but with all the uncertainty facing the town’s future, the idea had been dropped.

  As they rode slowly down the dusty main street, Jessi did her best to ignore the people stopping on the walk and in the doorways of the businesses to stare at the three riders from the Clayton ranch. Because of the ill feelings her presence usually aroused she rarely came to Vale. She was certain that by the time she reached the church everybody in town would be aware of her arrival. Without a doubt the smug-faced women on the walks would be whispering behind their hands, but she kept her eyes focused straight ahead and did not increase her mount’s pace.

  A woman’s loud voice rang out, “Go home, you whore!”

  “Yeah, get out of to
wn unless you’re coming to sell your land!” a man chimed in.

  “Sell your land, whore!”

  A furious Griffin turned in his saddle to try and identify the taunters but could not. All of the faces looked the same: hateful, suspicious. He turned back to Jessi to gauge her reaction. She was sitting ramrod straight in the saddle and refused to meet his eyes. Only the defiant raising of her chin let him know she’d felt the barbs.

  The anger tightening Joth’s mouth and shoulders showed that he’d been affected too, making Griff wonder if the Claytons were forced to endure this foul-mouthing every time they came into town. If so, he thought it about time someone made it stop. Looking out at the faces lining the walks once more, the fuming Griff decided he’d follow Jessi’s lead in dealing with the good citizens of Vale for now, but he wouldn’t put up with them slurring her for very much longer.

  When they entered the church, Mr. Trent was pleased to see Jessi and Joth and excused himself from the silent, staring students to speak with them. Trent was a short, round man with a ready smile, and he nodded politely when Jessi introduced him to Griff. While Trent and Jessi discussed the lessons Joth needed to master while at home, Griff and Joth waited outside.

  “Do the folks around here always treat your aunt this way?”