by Sienna Mynx
“I just held off six white men with a shotgun. It’s my fight too. Besides, they don’t need to know you’re here. We’ve been through this before. Now I gots ta warn the sheriff.”
“No, Annie.” He tried to stop her. But she rushed the door then raced out before he could get his hands on her. He saw her get Randy and ride off the land on him, heading toward town. Immediately he searched the cottage for his ammo. He was stuck. The best way to save her and her people was to leave, not join the fight. But with empty guns how far could he run? Shepherd would come back that day, that night, or a week from now. There was no telling when.
Exasperated, he stopped his ransacking to think on it further, particularly what had caused him his greatest fear. Facing Shepherd wasn’t what left him terrified. Shepherd getting his hands on Annabelle enraged him. She was brave, beautiful, and, some way, somehow, more important to him now than his crusade. He paced. He paced until the sun set. When he wasn’t pacing he was checking the windows for her or worse. He couldn’t last much longer. And then she returned. But this time she wasn’t alone. An Indian, a black woman, and the first black sheriff he’d ever laid eyes upon were at her side.
“Jeremy, this here is my Red Sun, and she Ms. Kitty, and this man is Sheriff Taylor. They knows everything. I told them who those men were and what they done ta your family. They gonna help us.”
The hatred he saw in Red Sun’s eyes tore through her words. The man wanted blood, his blood. He could tell. He nodded a greeting to them all. The sheriff walked over slowly, as if Jeremiah was the oddity. He looked him up and down and his eyes froze on the guns holstered to his hips.
“Annabelle says you’re on the mend?” the sheriff’s eyes lifted to his.
“I am. I can be on my way,” he offered.
“Too late to run,” the black woman said. His gaze swiveled over to hers. She was striking, with her toffee skin and long curly black hair. She crossed her arms and glared directly at him. “If you found by Shep it will indict us all. It’s best we keep him hidden.”
The Indian spoke in a foreign tongue. He took a threatening step toward him. The woman and Annabelle both had to talk to the man in his language to keep him from advancing further.
The sheriff looked back at Red Sun. “He can stay with you.”
“No!” Annabelle stepped up. “He stays here.” Every curve of her body spoke defiance and it didn’t go unmissed by the Indian. He looked at her with a mixture of hurt, disappointment, and anger.
“Annabelle, hold your tongue!” Ms. Kitty warned.
“I will not! I’m sorry, Red Sun, but no. He stays with me.” Annabelle walked over to Jeremiah and took his hand. She held it in hers. The three strangers exchanged looks and then fixed their glares back on Jeremiah. He was rendered speechless.
“Why you care so much for this white man?” Ms. Kitty asked. “What done happened between you two?”
“That’s not your business,” Annabelle responded. Though Jeremiah believed the Indian couldn’t speak English, there was something in Annabelle’s response that he did understand. And it was enough. Before Jeremiah could draw his gun he was thrown into the wall. The force of the attack nearly rendered him unconscious. Nothing prepared him for the beating. Red Sun’s fists felt like boulders as they hit his head and chest with crushing violence.
“STOP!” Annabelle screamed. She then fired a shot of her gun into the roof. It was the only reprieve Jeremiah received. Not even the sheriff could stop the attack. Red Sun looked back at Annabelle who held a gun in her hands. Red Sun answered Annabelle in his language and the beating stopped. He stood. His chest and shoulders bulked as he panted. Jeremiah reached for his weapon.
“Don’t you even think on it,” Ms. Kitty said, leveling her gun at Jeremiah. “You just lie still, outlaw, while they work through this.”
Jeremiah spat blood and put up both his hands to indicate surrender.
Red Sun had never in his life felt such pain by the actions of his sweet sparrow. Annabelle stood before him with a gun turned on him. And for all of her betrayal, to do so for this man, the scum he was, broke his heart. “Why?” he asked her in Chickasaw.
“I like him, he mine,” she wept.
The words spoken, even in his own language, made no sense. How could she choose this bandit over him?
“What he do to you?” Red Sun asked.
“Nothing. I swears it. I help heal him, and he my friend. You don’t understand. They not all bad, Red Sun. Not all of them. He’s a good man. Lost his tribe too. Lost everything because of that man Tyler Shepherd,” Annabelle pleaded. “Please understand. Say you understand.”
“She might be telling the truth,” Ms. Kitty said in Chickasaw. “Tyler Shepherd is the evil one. Believe me.”
Annabelle lowered the gun. She dropped it to the floor and walked over to Red Sun, like a child running into the arms of a parent. He could see her again. A little bird, covered in the blood of his people. The only survivor of a slaughter. He remembered how she clung to him, sucked her thumb and cried for weeks over the loss of her mother and father. How he tried to heal her, give her a life of freedom. She was grown and he had to learn to trust and accept it. He picked her up and held her to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m sorry. Forgive me, I’m sorry,” she wept.
“Imponna.” Be wise, he said.
“Chiholloli.” I love you, she replied. He lowered her to the ground. He captured her face and trusted her spirit. She was a warrior. He believed in her more than he believed in his hate. And no matter what, he’d do whatever was necessary to protect her.
“I never touched her,” Jeremiah spoke as he struggled to stand. Ms. Kitty lowered her weapon. “I owe her my life. I don’t care what you do with me, but let me fight with you. If it comes to it. Or give me to Tyler Shepherd if it comes to that. I don’t want anything to happen to Annabelle.”
“We ain’t gonna give you to that dirty bastard. We’d hang you ourself first,” Ms. Kitty replied. Red Sun shook his head and paced away from Annabelle. She however, smiled at Jeremiah. She walked over to him and took his hand in hers again. They stood side by side to hear his fate. The sheriff picked up his hat and put it on. He too looked at the bond of friendship between Jeremiah and Annabelle with disgust.
“Annabelle is one of the most beautiful girls in town. Even my boy Henry wanted to marry her. And look at this,” the sheriff said.
“I don’t want Henry,” Annabelle said defiantly.
The sheriff threw up his hand to silence her. “I need to get a wire out. See if we can get some support here,” He looked back to Jeremiah, “Then we can send you on your way, outlaw. That’s the deal we make. Don’t need no dead white men on either side of this argument in our town.”
The sheriff walked out. Red Sun walked out. Ms. Kitty was the only one left. She looked at Annabelle and then to Jeremiah. “I know Shep. I know what he capable of. If you say he at fault in this war between you two, I’m inclined to believe you.” She then leveled a finger at Annabelle. “You hurt Red Sun, you better hope this one here is worth it.”
She left.
The parting words from Ms. Kitty cut deep. Annabelle blinked away her tears, dropped Jeremiah’s hand, and went to the cabin door to ease down the lock.
“Why did you bring them here? Why tell them about me?” he asked.
The truth was she did it for selfish reasons. Just as she did when she drew that gun on those men who rode up on her land. She felt something for the man that was more than kindness, but too new and fresh to put another name to. “They cain’t fight the enemy if they don’t know what they fighting for,” she sighed. “I would never lie to my people about something so serious. They had to know about you. Now they do.”
She turned over the chair knocked aside by Red Sun and pushed it to the table.
“I’m sorry I brought you trouble. But I’m not sorry I met you,” he said. He put his hand to the small of her back, stepping in closer. His touch upset her bala
nce and she gripped the chair to remain rigid and still. Her eyes slowly closed. Her clamped lips imprisoned a sob. Tears of regret pooled beneath her shut lids. Ms. Kitty was right. What she had done to Red Sun could never be undone. She drew a weapon on him to protect what he believed to be the enemy.
The nearness of him gave her comfort when his arms encircled her. Her heart fluttered wildly as if a thousand butterflies were trapped underneath her breast. He put his face to the side of hers and she braced for what was to follow. Soon he acted on the desire she knew he felt. He folded her arms in front of her to keep her from running, and held her against his chest.
It was brief. The quiver that rippled down her spine as he stroked the side of her face with his jaw tickled her with excitement. She knew there had to be a reason for their meeting, for her finding him, for everything.
“I’ve never met anyone like you,” he whispered. She found his breath warmed her inner ear.
She turned in his arms to face him. She brought his hands to her waist. She had no desire to back away. Her feelings for him had nothing to do with reason, or color, or law. Tonight there were no shadows across her heart for he had replaced old pain with new life. Her smile faded when she lifted her gaze and noticed the red welts on his neck.
“You’re hurt?” she asked.
“I’m fine,” he replied and leaned in to kiss her. She turned his face and inspected his neck.
“No, you’re hurt. I’m your nurse, remember?” She pushed free of his arms but captured his free hand in hers. She walked him over to his cot.
When he sat she finally let go of his hand to fetch her little basket of remedies. He parted his legs so she could come in between them. Lifting his chin with two fingers she surveyed the damage to his throat.
“This is my fault,” she sighed.
“No. It’s not,” he said.
“It is. I should have told Red Sun the truth from the beginning. Explained what a good man Jeremiah ‘One-Finger’ Polk is,” she smiled.
“What makes you so sure?” he asked. “That I’m good, I mean.”
She paused and looked into his eyes. She then broke a thorny leaf from an aloe plant, wiped up the sticky filling that oozed out, and rubbed it across his neck. Her eyes remained locked with his.
“You planning on answering me?” he asked.
“I ain’t neva known anyone like you,” she began. “It’s different with you. But different isn’t always bad, is it now?”
Jeremiah took her hand from the side of his face. Bringing the open palm to his lips he kissed the center and closed his eyes. Annabelle didn’t resist the intimate gesture or pull her hand away. She ran her free hand back through his hair, raking it away from his brow. It was the first time he felt a sincere physical response from her.
When he let her hand go he opened his eyes. Her face was closer. Or was it his imagination? It drew closer. Their noses were so near they nearly touched. He captured her cheeks in his hands and brushed his lips across hers. He kissed her. There was no greater sensation than when her tongue greeted his own. Holding the sides of her face he deepened the kiss.
I want you, Annabelle …
Show me, Jeremiah …
Together they spoke in barely heard whispers, found within the passion of their first kiss. The desire for more sent the pit of her stomach into a wild swirl. Yes, she’d kissed a boy before, but never a man, never a man like him. The drugging, slow, ethereal exchange had her panting for breath as she went for him, forcing him back and stretching over him.
His hand romanced her with a soft caress of her spine, and a firm grip of her ass as the other grabbed her hair. He rolled her beneath him on the cot. His kisses dragged from her lips, down the slender contour of her neck, and over her concealed bosom buried beneath her dress.
Annabelle’s lips burned in the aftermath of their fiery kiss as Jeremiah lifted his face and stared down at her with those soulful green eyes of his. “Am I the reason for your smile?” he asked.
“Yes,” she answered. Her hands went up to the front buttons of her dress. She undid the first and then the next. She took the time to prolong the reveal. When she opened the front of her dress to him, to reveal her breasts, the smoldering flame of lust she saw in his eyes startled her. Gone was the reserved shyness when she caught him staring. It was now replaced by a look of hunger she’d seen in the customers’ eyes at the Blue Moon. But this time the desires of a man fixated on her didn’t turn her stomach. This time she felt the same desire, warm and wet in her pussy. She hurried through opening the remaining buttons. Jeremiah’s mouth closed on her nipple and all she imagined of a man’s kiss didn’t compare. Her limbs went lax as foreign desires took over her body.
Annabelle arched her back and he knew her deflowering would be something memorable. He rolled her nipple over his tongue and sucked the dark areola into his mouth. The small gasps of surprise mixed with delight. He yanked on her long skirt and slip to drag them off her hips and removed her underwear beneath. He stood up and began to undress. Annabelle watched him, leaning back on her elbows. Her medium sized breasts heaved and fell with her own mounting excitement.
Jeremiah wondered if, when the entire matter with Tyler Shepherd was done and over, he could leave her and the feelings she brought out of him. If he managed to, he’d never forget this moment. Removing his shirt and then his pants, he quickly undressed so he could feel her skin against his.
She stood before he approached. “Not here,” she said. “Not on the floor, not like this.”
Annabelle shrugged off what remained of her dress. Naked, she walked over to him and put her hands to his shoulders. She rose on her toes and kissed his chin and then his lips.
“Come with me.” She took his hand and walked him to her bedroom. Jeremiah would now get to explore his desires—uninhibited.
They entered her dark bedroom and his eyes adjusted to the absence of light. She dropped her hand and drew back the covers. He watched as she shyly slipped underneath. He smiled and joined her. She immediately rolled in close to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and forcing her tongue into his mouth. Jeremiah chuckled over her enthusiasm. He ran his hand down to her silky thighs and eased over her, parting her legs. The kiss broke and his tongue and mouth found the dark hard points of her nipples. Supple beneath him, he tasted one and then the other. His tongue tantalized the buds until they’d swollen to their fullest. And he didn’t stop there. He licked a path down her ribs to her stomach and dipped into her navel. Annabelle held onto his shoulders. Her head slightly raised as she strained to see him as he slipped even lower.
“Whatcha’ doin?” she asked in a curious, yet shaky voice.
Jeremiah laughed. He put his hand to her breast and forced her to lie back down flat. Jeremiah could feel the rapid beat of her heart beneath the breast. Under the cover, in the darkness of her bedroom, he stared down at her bare pussy. With her knees parted and hips tilted in expectation he could see the glistening wet pink between the dark folds. Jeremiah smiled.
The breath she’d been holding released when his mouth closed and he kissed her below. Because she wasn’t expecting it, her body shuddered the moment his tongue actually touched her there. She draped her legs over his shoulders. His tongue pushed between her folds, slid into her entrance and swiped. He petted her pussy, gave it rapid kisses while her heels dug into his back. Her hands gripped the sheets, fingernails digging deep into the mattress. She’d forgotten how to breathe, the feel of his licking her and sucking her down below was so intense. And he was wicked with his tongue and kisses. His tongue withdrew, feathered upward and tapped the pearl of flesh she’d touched a time or two herself.
“Oh God! Yes! Yes! Yes!” she cried out in a voice she didn’t recognize. Her head thrashed left and right. Her ass bounced on the bed sheets, and then her hips moved forward and back, pushing her mound against his nose. And when she reached the pinnacle of the most ardent release, she grabbed the back of his head and slammed her thighs shut,
releasing against his mouth.
Annabelle collapsed.
Spent.
Jeremiah kissed her quivering sex and she panted, unable to respond. He eased up on her body, his long lithe form overpowering hers. She could feel her entire chest and belly quiver with the aftershocks of pleasure he gave her
“Put your legs around me, like this, Annabelle,” he instructed.
She sucked in a calming breath and wrapped her legs around his lower waist, crossing her ankles and resting her feet on his clenched buttocks. This she did without instruction. She knew. How she knew, she’d ponder later, but she knew that there was more to come. And she wanted to feel him, all of him inside of her.
He stroked her slit with the length of his cock and she smiled at the warning. His cock nudged at her opening, thick, insistent. Jeremiah’s mouth returned to hers just as he angled his hips and drove himself into her with one powerful, merciless thrust. Annabelle gasped.
He went still. His eyes reconnected with hers. Slowly the tension and pain lessened and she nodded that she could continue. Jeremiah’s hands slipped beneath to grip both halves of her ass. He squeezed them as he pumped inch after inch into her with up and down plunges of this thick invading cock. She felt as if she were strangling on her breath. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut. The pain was more intense and she nearly cried out for him to stop—but then he did. And with him buried deep she began to feel her vagina adjust and accept their union.
Their gazes locked once more. Her breath went shallow, and his became deep, almost like grunts, as he battled with restraint. She smiled at him and tried to move beneath him to reassure him. Because she was wound so tight with tension she couldn’t speak.
Inside she felt every ridge and vein of his thick delving cock. And when he started to move again, the tender strokes heated and melted her channel. Annabelle bit down on her bottom lip and discovered a natural rhythm that changed the pain to pleasure.