Outlaw Heart

by Samantha James

  Kane intercepted her glare. He laughed at the mutinous sparks that leaped in her eyes. "So fiery. So defiant," he remarked casually. "Is that your game, sweetheart? Is that how you manage to make men like me go crazy over you? Is that how you got your precious Dillon? Was marriage the price he had to pay to have you?"

  His mockery cut deep. Abby couldn't help it. Her gaze faltered. Such an easy surrender was galling, but she couldn't help it. Her mind began to race. Should she try to run? Dear Lord, how could she? She was half-naked! She raised her arms in an attempt to shield her nakedness.

  The smile vanished. "Oh, no," he said harshly. "I'm not going to let you hide, sugar. I'm going to look my fill, the way you looked yours that first morning at the lake." He gave a grating laugh as she flushed scarlet.

  And look his fill he did. Time dragged endlessly. Mortified that she was standing before a man clad only in her drawers, horrified that Kane would look at her so, she squeezed her eyes shut. It made no difference. Still she could feel the scorching heat of his eyes on her body.

  "You're beautiful," he said thickly. "And this is all I've thought about for days. Did you know that? Seeing you like this. Your breasts in my hands, naked and warm. Your nipples hard against my palm. I've wondered how you would taste—" A fingertip whisked across the peaks of both breasts. "—right here. I've lain awake nights wanting to feel your breath in my mouth, your legs wrapped around mine—" His whisper was stark and wanton. "—while I'm deep and hard inside you."

  Abby's throat locked. She couldn't say a word. She could only stand there, battling the urge to open her eyes, not knowing if she dared.

  Again he touched her. Boldly. Brazenly. As if he owned her. With a gasp her eyes snapped open, only to widen in shock when he cupped one breast in his hand, as if he were weighing, measuring. She started to wrench her face aside but Kane wouldn't allow it. His arm like an iron band, he swore violently and pulled her even closer.

  "Don't test me, Abby. Goddammit, I won't hurt you. Just do what I say. Look at me." The demand in his voice was no less fierce, but his grip on her waist eased slightly.

  Trying hard not to tremble, Abby swallowed. The roof of her mouth felt like cotton. Helplessly she raised her eyes once more.

  He leered his approval. "That's the way. Now look at my hand on your skin." There was a subtle movement of his hand on her cushioned softness, barely grazing. His fingers splayed wide across her breast, deeply tanned against the unblemished creaminess of her flesh. The contrast was riveting.

  'Tell me, sugar. Do you see what I see? Dark against fair? Bad against good?"

  His fingers moved again, ever so subtly. Now her nipple lay pink and pouting between his knuckles. Abby held her breath, afraid to move.

  His eyes narrowed. "Come on, sweetheart," he taunted. "Tell the truth now. Does it offend you, seeing my hand on your body, my filthy, scummy hand? After all, you're the daughter of the man who owned the biggest spread in the Territory, and who the hell am I but worthless trash?"

  He was being deliberately hurtful. And yet he was right. He was an outlaw. A renegade. She should have found his touch revolting. Disgusting. A stab of irony pierced her. Dear Lord, if only she did—if only she could! Maybe then she wouldn't feel so torn!

  And then there was Kane. He sounded so bitter! His features were twisted, his jaw tense and rigid. Even as she stared, his lips spasmed, as if in anguish, as if he were fighting some gut-wrenching, inner pain. Some nameless emotion speared her heart. Pulled from somewhere deep in her mind was the notion that maybe he was trying to punish not her, but himself.

  Totally unaware that she did so, she reached for him. He caught her wrists in one hand, the movement so sudden she cried out, not in pain but in shock. With the other he raked his thumb across the peak of her breast.

  'Tell me," he hissed. "Does it make you feel dirty, me touching you like this?"

  Shaken by his dark mood, confused by the leashed violence she sensed in him, Abby could only shake her head.

  "Oh, don't be shy, Abby. We both know you're not. Or is it admitting the truth that's so hard? Come on, now. Don't you feel soiled and degraded and unclean? No, wait! Let me think. Oh, yes, I believe detestable was the word you used ... That's right. You find me detestable!"

  She shook her head. "I didn't mean it," she said weakly. "Kane, I—"

  "Don't lie to me!"

  Lean fingers threaded through her hair. He twisted her face up to his. Abby resisted instinctively but her reprieve was short-lived indeed. The instant she strained away her naked breasts bobbed into view. She had no choice but to angle herself against him.

  "Kiss me," he said suddenly.

  Abby blinked. He transferred his hands to her waist, his eyes glittering dangerously. He seemed bigger than ever, and while he didn't exactly frighten her, there was a knife-edged hardness in him that made her wary of crossing him.

  She took a deep fortifying breath and levered herself on tiptoe, then pressed her lips against the grim slash of his mouth, trying desperately not to think about the pleasantly rough abrasion of his shirt against the tips of her breasts. The kiss lasted only a second, but by the time her heels again rested on the planked floorboards, her heart was skittering wildly.

  Kane regarded her unsmilingly. "Again," he ordered.

  Not daring to argue, Abby once again complied. For all his fierceness, his lips were smooth and far softer than she would have dreamed. He displayed no reaction whatsoever, but remained still as stone. Flustered and breathless, she braved a glance at him.

  She was dismayed to find him surveying her intently, his gaze thoroughly unsettling. His eyes were the color of steel and just as unyielding.

  He offered a scathing smile. "Not with your lips closed tight as the lid of a casket—" He refused to let her misunderstand. "—but the way I showed you." He laughed as comprehension washed across her features. "That's right," he drawled. "I see you remember, sweetheart. 'Course if you need another lesson, I'll be glad to oblige."

  Abby went fiery-hot, then cold. Oh, but he was a beast! She knew what he wanted—her mouth open and avid beneath his, the way it had been the other night when he'd kissed her so intensely. But she couldn't. She wouldn't. Not again ... not willingly!

  "I'm still waiting, sweetheart." His tone cracked sharp as a whip.

  Her breath came jerkily. "No," she said shakily. "Not again, Kane. I can't!"

  "Why the hell not?" he taunted her mercilessly. "You want to, Abby. You know you do. You liked it as much as I did."

  "I didn't!" Yet even as she spoke, hot shame welled inside her. Lord, she was no better than Fanny!

  'Tell yourself whatever you want," he said harshly. "But if I were you, I'd do it and get it over with. So make it count, sweetheart, because I'm not leaving here until I'm satisfied."

  Satisfied? Abby was half-afraid to speculate on his meaning. But his expression warned there would be no denying him. With a sinking flutter of her heart, she realized that she had no choice but to give in.

  Slowly her arms crept up and around his neck. Her eyes drifted closed as she pressed her mouth to his.

  Her senses alone guided her—that and the limited experience she'd gained in this man's embrace. Unaware that she did so, her fingers slid through the midnight hair that grew low on his nape. It was like rough silk, the texture oddly pleasing. In spite of herself, she felt her body relax. Her lips softened and parted. Kane was not inclined to reciprocate.

  Her fingers stilled in his hair. His body was rigid as stone against hers. Abby frowned. This was what he'd wanted, wasn't it? She cautiously trailed the tip of her tongue along the seam of his lips, back and forth with delicate precision, tilting her head first one way and then the other, as he had done to her. A bolt of sheer pleasure shot through her, but Kane remained taut as a bowstring, so taut she feared she'd done something horribly wrong.

  Her heart plummeted. All at once she felt like crying. But just as she would have wrenched away, his grip on her waist tightene
d almost convulsively.

  His mouth opened on hers. Abby's spine turned to water. Control was no longer hers, if indeed it had ever been hers. But it didn't matter. Nothing mattered but this moment. She clung to him, her nails digging into the binding tautness of his shoulders. He kissed her again and again, wild, drugging kisses that lured her ever deeper into a heady realm where nothing mattered but the searing fusion of his mouth on hers.

  She was breathless and dizzy by the time he released her lips. "God," he said thickly. "You might not have a lot of experience but you sure as hell learn quick, don't you?" His eyes darkened. "But I wonder... are you as warm and willing with your precious Dillon as you are with me?"

  He was still angry. The realization had no sooner tumbled through her brain than he hauled her against him. Abby gasped as he pulled her against his hips. She could feel the rigid thickness of his manhood as she had the other night, swelling hard and thick against the softness of her belly. She was stunned to feel an empty ache spawning deep inside, a desperate yearning very near the place that alien hardness nestled.

  He raised his head. Abby nearly cried out at the fierceness of his expression. "Is this what you want, Abby? This feeling of power, of always being right, of being in control? Does it make you feel better than me knowing you can make me want you like this?"

  His words made no sense. He was making no sense. But Abby knew she couldn't fight him, just as she knew there would be no reasoning with him.

  Before she could say a word, his mouth smothered hers, hard and relentless. Kane wanted to cheat her of any pleasure, as he had been cheated of all that was good and sweet in his life. He wanted her to feel robbed as he had been robbed ... afraid as he had been afraid.

  Abby had no choice but to endure. She tried to twist away but his arms were like manacles around her back. Dimly she felt her hair ensnared in one huge fist, then wrapped around his hand.

  His lips plundered hers with ruthless thoroughness. Abby's fingers twisted into the front of his shirt, not resisting, but not yielding either. If anything, it seemed to incite him further. Her lips felt swollen and bruised beneath the almost punishing intensity of his kiss. Determined to show no weakness, no fear, she tried to check the low whimper that welled in her throat.

  She tried in vain.

  As low as that faint, choked sound was, he heard ... and froze. He stiffened, his entire body like an iron wall against hers, his arms so taut she feared he might crush her.

  For the space of a heartbeat, then another and another, neither moved. Finally his chest expanded with a long, inward pull of air into his lungs.

  The pressure of his mouth eased subtly. Abby drew a deep shuddering breath of her own. But though the tension in his hold remained, the anger was gone.

  His kiss was now almost unbearably sweet, almost apologetic, soothing the tender flesh he'd ravaged earlier. Abby couldn't help it. Her lips parted, like the flowering of a rose. His fingers tightened on her scalp. This time it was Kane who groaned, a sound pulled from deep in his chest. All at once Abby was shaking, not with fear, not with revulsion... but with pleasure.

  She had a brief sensation of weightlessness, then she felt the rumpled covers of the bed at her feet, the softness of the mattress at her back. The weight of Kane's body followed her down. Not once did he release the searing fusion of their lips. The contact was deep and intimate, slow and rousing, as if he sought to give her back all he'd taken from her earlier. Desire flashed through her, zinging through her bloodstream like fire.

  Kane fed on her mouth greedily, savoring the ripe lushness of her mouth. She tasted as good as he remembered—God, even better. He ripped open his shirt, desperate to feel even more of her. Reluctantly he released her mouth. His gaze was dark and burning, devouring the sight of her breasts jutting and bare against the dark fur on his chest. Lord, she was sweet, he thought with a groan. Her mouth was shiny and wet, like fresh, succulent fruit, he noted dimly.

  A lean fingertip circled the deep pink circle atop the fullness of her breast, barely grazing the tip. A primitive satisfaction blazed within him as it sprang tight and eager. Her eyes flew open, cloudy and dazed, alight with surprise and wonder. The sight sent his pulse raging and his heart to pounding. The blood settled hot and full in his rod, swelling him even further. Slowly he began to ease down her torso, intent on claiming even more delicious bounty for his own.

  Abby gasped at the erotic friction of her nipples sliding through the dense mat of hair on his chest. They seemed to tingle and ache, so much so that she squirmed restlessly, wanting something, but not quite sure what.

  And then she knew.

  The sight of Kane's dark head poised above her breasts, bare and round and gleaming, should have shocked her. In some deep, dark corner of her mind, perhaps it did. But once again, it didn't matter. Because suddenly all her senses were alive and screaming with nerve-shattering anticipation. Waiting. Wanting .

  His hand had slid from her ribs to the cushioned underside of her breast. His breath trickled warm and arousing across her rounded flesh, a divine torment. Even as she watched, he lowered his head.

  With his tongue, he touched her nipple.

  A bolt of sheer delight shot the length of her spine. This couldn't be wrong. Dear Lord, it couldn't. Never had Abby imagined such sweet, piercing pleasure—but there was more, she realized, as he took full possession of the ripe, tender peak.

  The feel of his mouth drawing, pulling, sucking hard, then soothing with the eager lash of his tongue was an exquisite ecstasy. Her neck arched. Her body bowed, as if in offering. In response Kane laved with the same careful attention the other straining peak. Her fingers slid into the midnight darkness of his hair, as if she wanted to keep him there forever.

  "Kane!" she cried unthinkingly. "Oh, God, Kane!"

  Kane raised his head, his eyes glittering. In the wavering light thrown by the candle, her skin shone like moon dust. Her nipples were rouged a deep rose, as shiny and wet as her mouth had been earlier. Her breath was shallow and panting, driving him to a fine frenzy.

  Go ahead, his body urged. Take her. It's what she wants. It's what she's asking for. Christ, she's as ripe and ready as Fanny was, and you're as hard and throbbing for her the way you weren't with Fanny.

  Desire churned through him like a raging tornado. His blood felt as if it were on fire. His shaft was heavy and full, throbbing and painfully rigid.

  Primitive urges ruled him. The thought of plunging deep in her shadowed cleft, feeling her hot, feminine warmth clamped tight around his burning flesh nearly drove him mad. But buried deep in his mind, some last shred of sanity remained, warning him he couldn't surrender to the explosive demands of his body. Only she was so soft... and never had he been so hard, so desperate and in need . There had to be a way to quench this fire in his soul. There had to be.

  He rolled to his side, taking her along with him. Her eyes flashed up to his.

  "Kane—" His name emerged as a jagged cry.

  "Don't," he grated. "Don't say anything." He covered her mouth with his. He fumbled with the buttons on his pants, then released himself into his hand ... and hers.

  Abby's breath left her lungs in a scalding rush. He caught at her fingers ... Abby tore her mouth from his, shocked to the core at what he was doing... what she was doing. But even as her eyes widened, his closed. She nearly cried out at the stark agony she glimpsed in the instant before his own squeezed shut.

  His hand clamped hers--and hers was clamped tight against the shape of him, molded around the turgid, ridged plane of bold, masculine flesh, held tightly in place as he sought the motion that would bring an end to this torment... She thought her heart would burst clear through her chest.

  "God," he said raggedly, and then again: "God!"

  His breath grew rough and scraping. He cast back his head, his features contorted, the cords in his neck standing out tautly. And then with a heaving cry, he caught her hips against his, binding them together, grinding and circling. Not fully
aware of what was happening, but seized by the undeniable notion that she must cling to him or he would be forever lost, she slipped her arms around his neck.

  His hands locked tight around her back. A tremendous shudder wracked his body. Abby knew, in some elusive way beyond the bounds of understanding, that it was over—that the passion which had gripped him was spent. Slowly she felt the rigidness seep from his body. Abby smiled slightly, shifting a little to accommodate his heavier weight.

  He sprang to his feet.

  Abby stared, feeling confused and still rather dazed. She spoke his name, a mere wisp of air: "Kane?"

  Three steps took him to the door.

  She struggled to sit up. "Kane!"

  He walked out without a word, slamming the door shut behind him.

  Chapter 10

  A rough hand at her shoulder jarred her awake the next morning. Reluctant to forsake the misty layers of sleep in which she was immersed so pleasantly, Abby swatted the offensive intruder and rolled to the other side of the bed. The next thing she knew a firm hand descended sharply on her backside. The sheet and thin blanket did little to ease the sting.

  She bolted upright with a gasp, instinctively clutching the covers to her breast.

  Kane stood not two paces distant. Her mind recorded a fleeting impression of cold gray eyes and tautly set shoulders. Remembrance flooded her mind like a raging tide, stark and vivid, of all that had happened last night. Dear Lord, what had she done—what had they done?

  She swallowed nervously. "How long have you been there?"

  "Long enough to know you'd better get your ass in gear if you want to get an early start." He was already halfway across the room. For the second time in twelve hours, the door slammed shut behind him.

  Abby pushed the covers aside. "Well, good morning to you, too," she muttered crossly.