by Sienna Mynx
Annabelle’s smile stretched. She arched her back, continuing to ride him like a pony. The heat of the small quarters he was relegated to only intensified with the combustive nature of their passion.
Her face covered in sweat, her body glistened under the swaying flames of the lanterns. Jeremiah licked up between the sweaty valley of her breasts and his tongue travelled the contour of her neck. Her pussy was warm, so tight, so wet. All three combined nearly crippled his dick as she rode him hard. Then it happened. An orgasm so far reaching his stomach muscles coiled into a tight knot and love jetted from his cock.
Jeremiah took control and turned her over. Driving his dick in and out of her, flesh against sweaty flesh, they were one. She lifted her hips in synchronization. Her breath gushed from her in long surrendering moans. And she was conquered.
Jeremiah stared down into her face, watching as she writhed with passion. Then the involuntary tremors of his climax began and he lost control. Pounding harder and harder, he exploded inside of her until he was dizzy from the exertion, and the fire in his groin spread to his heart. He dropped on her, barely able to breathe. A deep feeling of peace entered their being from their joining.
Annabelle discovered another level of pleasure. The dormant sexuality in her body had been awakened, bringing about a new understanding of the bonds between a man and a woman. She savored the sweet feeling and held on to him by locking her thighs around his firm hips. She wanted him trapped between her legs, forever. He kissed her face.
“I love you,” he said.
“That’s ‘cause I love you too,” she sighed, in pleasant exhaustion.
“Then it’s decided. We are in love,” he laughed. Annabelle giggled. She closed her eyes and drifted on that feeling. It was as light as a cloud but charged with energy, spirit, and hope. She could drift forever. But she knew the truth. She could only drift for the night, because tomorrow was promised to no one. Not even two people in love.
**
Cora sat up. “Red Sun?”
“I’m here,” he said. She reached for the candle, but stopped. She watched as he shed all of his clothes and moved the covers for him to join her in bed. She had so many questions. But the relief of seeing him alive and unharmed answered many of them. He immediately drew her over to his chest. “Do you think it worked? That he’ll stay out there in the mountains chasing after the outlaw until the poison takes?”
“No,” Red Sun said. “We bought time, but not freedom. He will return.”
Cora smiled. “I know. And we’ll be ready.”
8.
“You should name your horse,” Annabelle said. She lay on his chest blissfully happy and full of energy.
“I have a name for him. Randy, remember?” Jeremiah yawned.
“Yeah. But when we go on the run we need new names. And Randy ain’t a good name for an outlaw’s horse.”
“Annabelle, where do you conjure these things?” he chuckled.
Annabelle sat up. “I can read and write. I’m not stupid!”
Jeremiah was confused at her bristling. He played his fingers down her spine slowly. “Of course, I didn’t say—”
“You think ‘cause I’m a woman I don’t know things?” she asked.
“Why are we arguing? We just made love, all I want to do is lie here and hold you. Not talk about horses or reading and writing.” He winked.
Annabelle stared at him for a moment. Her features softened and she gave him the prettiest smile. “I’ll name the horse.”
“Yes, you name him,” he relented. Annabelle rolled up on top of him. The thin sheet slipped and her beauty was once again on display. She pressed her hands to his lower abdomen. “I think I needs to leave. They got a room for me upstairs. If I stay any longer I won’t want to go up at all.”
“Not yet,” he protested. Jeremiah had a renewed arousal cramping in his groin. The heat she carried in between those ebony thighs warmed him from where she sat. “I can’t let you go just yet.” He turned her and put her on her back. Remaining between the sweet cushion of her thighs, aroused, he kissed the curve of her slender neck. She still had the lingering smell of lavender mixed in with the spice of her sweat and sex.
He heard tell from other men by campfires during the war that there were women, very few, but some that could bewitch a man through sex. These women were soul stealers, succubae, and made men weak to do their bidding. He thought it nothing more than a fable. But something in him had changed, shifted, and Annabelle was part of the reason. She was in his blood. Her unique beauty fueled his lustful desires to a fever pitch. His body worked on its own accord.
The sensitive cap of his cock rubbed the soft silky petals of her sex before he tightened his buttocks and pushed forward. Penetrating and plunging deep, he dragged in a breath over the now familiar tightness. It gripped him so completely he had to brace himself against a premature release. There was so little comfort in his world now, especially having no family left. But in Annabelle’s arms he found all the comfort he could ever need.
For Annabelle, it was the same. She spread her legs as wide as she could, with her knees bent, until he hooked them with his arms and forced them back. She touched him everywhere: his back, neck, and chest. Kissing his shoulder she gripped him tight while he pumped his hips and his body took over. He feared hurting her but found it hard to stop, she felt so good. He just wanted more and more. So much so it sent his hip thrusts into a jerking frenzy that strained the muscles in the back of his thighs. Tension wound tight as a spring in his pelvis.
When he opened his eyes he expected to see discomfort in hers. But she withstood his passion. She smiled and moaned, encouraging him to go further. She was so delicate underneath him, yet stronger than any one would ever give her credit for. He covered her mouth with his and devoured her sweet breath and tongue. The obsession deepened. Spent, he collapsed on her. Annabelle giggled.
“I like it, Jeremiah,” she said with such innocence that he was forced to smile. “Let’s do it some more.”
“No. I … I … I can’t. No man can,” he breathed hoarsely.
“Aaww,” she pouted.
He dropped over to his side and she snuggled him again. “I got a name for your horse.”
Jeremiah lifted his head, confused that she could think of anything with him buried in her. She blinked those dark eyes under thick lashes at him. “We gon’ name him Shamrock, for your people.”
Stunned, Jeremiah chuckled. “How you know I’m Irish?”
“I told you I read. You Irish ain’t ya? All white men are.”
“Ah, no, we’re not all Irish,” he said.
“Yes you are. I knew it. I jus’ knew it!” she giggled, and then hugged him. Jeremiah was puzzled. In one moment she was almost childlike with her innocence, but in another sharp as a blade. And she was right: his mother and father were from Ireland. How could she know that? Was she mystical? Did she have powers? Had she truly bewitched him?
“Annabelle? You have to tell me. How you know I’m Irish?”
“Nope. Some things a girl just keeps to herself.” Annabelle said. “Now hush, let’s go to sleep, then we can do it again. Next time I stay on top,” she yawned.
Jeremiah, laughed. “Yes, whatever you want.”
**
“When this is over, we start a new life.”
Cora sucked in a deep breath. “New life?”
Red Sun’s hand went under her neck, he lifted her head from the pillow, and kissed her deeply with the passion only reserved for her. She put her arms around his neck and she welcomed the morning kiss. The room was bright with sunlight and warm with it too. She turned her body over to him. She raised her hands to the iron rods of her headboard and held on. He moved over her and in one powerful thrust he granted her wish. He groaned as his hips began to pump in and out, faster and faster, harder and deeper with each move, then soft and maddeningly slow to the point at which she whimpered for more. It didn’t take long before her resistance over leaving her b
usiness and town behind, to go God knows where, unraveled. Like a spool of string she was unwound and undone. His body tensed and his breathing became shallow, his orgasm threw him over the edge and he collapsed in her arms. Flesh against flesh she stroked his silky long mane, and wrapped her legs possessively around his strong hips. Together they climaxed.
Breathless she lay in his arms waiting for her body to stabilize. It did, and she found her voice. “Should we stay here in Nicademus or go?” she asked.
“The white man says he loves Annabelle,” Red Sun said.
“And?”
“Annabelle says she loves him,” Red Sun said.
“You know that could never work. He’s a fugitive. He’s going to get caught by one lawman or another. Annabelle can’t be with him when he does.” Cora warned.
“That may be. But Annabelle is strong willed. Never been able to convince her against doing something she got her mind and heart set on. Why do you think we came down off the mountain into town?”
Cora smiled. She remembered the spunky kid with her big Indian who showed up in her saloon. It felt like it happened a millennium ago.
“The truth is, we killed men. We killed them here. And whether Tyler Shepherd lives to tell the tale, those men will be missed. It makes me as hunted as the outlaw. So I think we should go with him. Head west. Find new land.”
“And leave our home? Leave Nicademus behind?” She sat upright and touched his cheek. “We built this town. It’s a part of us.”
Red Sun stared up at her with no emotion, but she knew he felt it too. Leaving here was like giving up on a dream. And people like them didn’t dream. Not often. “I want Nicademus protected, and I want us to find a way to stay here.”
Her lips came down to his and he kissed her. “I saw him last night,” he said when the kiss ended. “The man who caused you so much pain. I wanted to kill him for you. But I promised that I would be here, to protect you and Annabelle. And I intend to be.”
She traced her finger over his bottom lip. “Well done, my hero.”
**
“There. All done,” Jeremiah exclaimed. He held the whittled down stick up for all to see.
“What is it?” Billy asked.
“Yea, what is it?” asked Jeanine.
Jeremiah’s eyes stretched. The kids’ looks of wonder turned to alarm thinking he was displeased. He had to swallow the urge to laugh. “You don’t know what this is?”
The children exchanged bewildered looks. Billy proved to be the bravest. He stepped closer, his little brows drawn together in a contemplative frown. Jeremiah could hear the tiny wheels of imagination turning in the boy’s head. He handed it over to Billy, and the child held it carefully between his little fingers. The ornament was carved out of a small piece of kindling. It had three legs, the fourth one broken. A snout that was too long to be a pig’s, and too short to be a horse’s, and its oddity didn’t end there. It had a tail that bent in two directions, then awkwardly pointed north.
“Sorry, Mister Jeremiah, I reckon I don’t know,” Billy said.
Jeremiah stroked his chin. His head cocked to the side and his eyes narrowed into slim slits. “Well it’s a, um, let’s see. It’s possibly a … hmmm.”
Annie pushed past her sister and brother. At two years old she was the shiest and cutest of the bunch. Her hair in plaits with bows tied to the end, she had the roundest, merriest eyes he’d ever seen. A living doll. She reached and her chubby fingers wiggled under Billy’s nose. “Lemme see!” she said.
Jeremiah couldn’t resist. He caught her before she could run away. Plopping her on his left knee, he took the carving from Billy and put it in Annie’s hand. “What do you think it is?”
“Hor-seee!” Annie grinned kicking her little chubby legs.
“There you have it.” Jeremiah slapped the side of his right thigh, “It’s a hor-see.”
The kids frowned. Unbeknownst to him, Ms. Kitty watched through the shutter doors to the saloon. She pushed in the swinging doors and all heads turned.
“Ma Sweets has sumthin’ for ya,” she informed the children.
The collective cheer could wake the dead. The children bolted past her, knocking her away. To Jeremiah’s delight and amazement, little Annie kissed his cheek before climbing down with her wooden carving clutched in her hand. Ms. Kitty stepped aside to let her pass. Her eyes lifted to Jeremiah. “You like kids?”
“Yea, I do,” he admitted.
“Want any?” Ms. Kitty asked.
“I do.”
“With Annabelle?” she inquired.
Jeremiah stared, but Ms. Kitty smiled. She exhaled softly. “I like you, Jeremiah, lord knows our Annabelle does. I tried hard not to see the bond you two shared, but I guess you is what you is. And she wants what she wants.”
“Don’t we all?” he asked.
She walked over and sat next to him, fixing her skirt under her on the wooden bench. They stared out to the dusty road. There was no need to hide him below during the day. They’d all accepted the fate of the town. The sun baked the air, making it hot and humid to breathe. He was thankful for the shadow of the awning, and the scarce breeze every now and then. For now it was just a waiting game.
“Knew a man like you once,” she began.
“How so?” he asked.
Ms. Kitty chewed on her bottom lip. Her gaze remained focused on a memory he couldn’t see. But the mere conjuring of it brought tears to her eyes. “He was … he was my first love,” she glanced over at him. “He saved my life. From his father.”
“Father? But I thought Tyler Shepherd was the man who …” Jeremiah paused.
Ms. Kitty nodded. “It was his son who helped me escape. After seeing all that I had endured. After suffering with me because we could never be anything. He gave me the gift of freedom from Tyler Shepherd. He was like you. He claimed to not see color, just love me for me. But he soon learned that the way the world sees us will never change.” She paused and he waited for her to continue. “Men want sons. Not the kind who’d be second class citizens, but sons in their own image. You get my meaning?”
“That’s not me and Annabelle,” Jeremiah spoke up.
Ms. Kitty shrugged her shoulders. “So you say. Now. But in a couple of years, after living a life on the run you might think differently. Or life will catch you and teach you differently. Don’t be fooled by Nicademus, outlaw. This town is an illusion. Out there, past those mountains, that’s the reality. And you and I both know Annabelle don’t understand the reality.”
“I won’t let no harm come to Annabelle. The war is over. Slavery done, people are changing. Nicademus isn’t an illusion, it’s a sign of what’s to come.”
“Not fast e’nuff. But yes, times are changing,” Ms. Kitty agreed.
“I never meant to bring trouble here. I never meant to bring you any.”
“It’s not your doing. Shepherd would have eventually found Nicademus. The man lives to corrupt anything pure.” Ms. Kitty looked over at him. “Annabelle said you two want to leave after this is done.”
“We hoping to,” he said.
“Where will you go?”
“Wyoming. It’s a lot of homesteading going on there. I knew a man in the war who told me about how different things are there. It was always my plan to take my revenge and head west. We can start fresh,” Jeremiah said.
“Well here’s news for you. Red Sun and I will be going with you if my plan fails,” she said. “It’s the only way you’re taking our Annabelle from this town. From her home.”
“And leave Nicademus?” Jeremiah asked.
“We may not have a choice.” Ms. Kitty stood and dusted her hands. She looked up to the clouds. “Lunch will be ready soon. Come and get it when you want it.”
She was gone.
Jeremiah reclined a bit and digested the news. He never anticipated taking them with him. They could slow him down if the marshals pinned this on him with all the other unjust crimes. He wasn’t sure what to think of the reque
st. Or how to convince Annabelle that it was best they leave her family behind. Maybe Tyler Shepherd had already collapsed from the poison and his posse was long gone. Maybe there was no real threat to this town except him. Time was short and he had to decide on what to do. The problem was he didn’t know.
**
Henry dropped down on the extended root of a blackberry tree. He spat tobacco juice, coating his tongue and teeth. He stared out over the prairie, the bib of his hat shielding his eyes from the sun. It had been four hours so far and not even a jackrabbit had happened by. Untying his handkerchief from his neck, he dabbed his face.
He and Samuel were set upon the highest hill watching the valley that sloped to the east. Pa wanted both sides of the town covered. It had been long hours of rotations with nothing. Henry was beginning to think that the enemy was long gone on the chase they had pushed him toward.
“You fixin’ to head back?” Henry asked when Samuel stood from his side.
“We’ve been at it all morning. Time to bring in the next,” Samuel said.
Henry stood. He removed his hat and slapped it against the side of his leg. “I’d prefer we stay just a while longer.”