Promises Linger (Promise Series)

by Sarah McCarty

  She gritted her teeth again in the face of his amusement. “Yes.”

  “I’ve been waiting for an invitation.”

  Anger and relief swept through her like a wave. She held up her hands as if to ward off his idiocy. “I invited you two weeks ago.”

  He was shaking his head before she finished the statement. “Not to my way of thinking.”

  It was a struggle, but she managed to contain her anger and frustration so her voice lost its high squeak and came out in a more even-toned threat. “What exactly do you consider an invitation?”

  If he smiled, she was going to go over to his horse, wrench that rifle out of the scabbard, and shoot him in a place guaranteed to get his attention.

  He didn’t smile. He picked up a piece of chicken instead.

  “Now, today was a nice start,” he said, taking a bite of chicken. He hummed in his throat as he chewed. She had to wait for him to swallow to continue.

  “What was so nice about today?”

  “This is the first time in two weeks you’ve done anything but stare at me when I do something nice. Today, you wanted to spend lunch with me and you paid me two compliments. Right now,” he took another bite of chicken, “I’d say things are looking up.”

  “You wanted me to…approach you?”

  “Don’t go bug-eyed on me. I told you forcing a woman wasn’t my style.”

  She pressed her fingertips to her forehead. “Mr. MacIntyre, I’m afraid you’re going to have to be clear as to what you expect from me.”

  “Calling me by my first name would be a start.”

  As much as she wanted to, taking that step was very…frightening. “I know.” She opened her eyes to find his face level with hers. There was no avoiding his eyes this close. “I’m trying. I really am.”

  His hand slid behind her neck. With a slight pressure, he pulled her forward. “I know, darlin’. You haven’t heard me complaining.”

  He was going to kiss her. She knew it, she just didn’t know if she wanted it because she’d likely go up in flames, and she couldn’t converse when she was burning.

  She bit her lip. “But you were going into town.”

  “And you think I’m looking for something I can’t find at home?”

  “The thought crossed my mind.”

  This time, he did smile. “There’s nothing I can get in town that I don’t have better at home.”

  She sighed. “I don’t know if I can be as…willing as you seem to want.”

  “That’s one worry you can hand over to me. I won’t be going to town for women.” His lips brushed her nose. “I’m not a green boy. I can wait for what I want.”

  The supposition being that he wanted her. “But I’ve only got a month…”

  He shrugged as if time slipping away were nothing. “You were the one who put a time limit on things.”

  “But you agreed!”

  He kissed one eye closed and then the other. “I said I could live with your rules.” His voice was as soft as his lips on her cheek. “You were so intent on boxing me in. Truth was, I never had any intention of my manly needs taking me anywhere outside your bed.”

  “You let me worry!”

  “Darlin’, you were the one who said you were an expert. You didn’t want to hear anything I said, so I figured the easiest way to clear things up was to let you see for yourself.”

  “I could just kill you.”

  “How about kissing me instead?”

  “That wouldn’t be nearly so satisfying.”

  “How do you know?”

  He was completely outrageous, but he was right. How did she know that killing him would be more satisfying than kissing him? She’d never really kissed the man. Her eyes dropped to his mouth. Quirked in that half smile she was coming to like, it looked eminently kissable. Like, if she placed her mouth on his, she could snatch a bit of his laughter for herself. She made to move forward, and then stopped. “Would you mind?”

  “You thinking on kissing me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Heck, no. Why would I mind that when I’ve lost more sleep these last two weeks speculating on that very thing?”

  “You’ve wanted me to kiss you?”

  “Yeah. I’ve wanted it.”

  How…intriguing. He’d wanted it, and he hadn’t taken it. He’d waited for…her.

  She leaned a fraction of an inch closer and placed her lips against his. Her first thought was that her instincts were right. As soon as her lips tested the texture of his, his smile wandered onto her own mouth. She liked the way his lips were soft and his afternoon whiskers tickled the edges of her lips.

  She moved her mouth experimentally. It felt equally good. She stole a bit more of his smile before pursing her lips lightly and kissing him as she’d heard talked about, tentatively running her tongue around his mouth. Exploring the hard edge of his teeth and the slippery soft glide of his inner lips. When she would have pulled back, she ran against the barrier of his hand on the back of her head. She opened her eyes and found his closed. The expression on his face mirrored the feelings inside her. Pleasure. Wonder. Maybe even a bit of impatience?

  He was enjoying this as much as she was. He was also anticipating where it would lead. She liked that. She moved her lips back to his. She pressed them there for a while, but it wasn’t close enough. She sighed at the pleasure. His lower lip felt fuller than his top lip. Softer. She touched it with her tongue. He hummed in his throat.

  “I like that.”

  His words whispered across her face. She did it again. He hummed again.

  The vibration traveled from his lip to her tongue. The butterflies she’d noticed earlier sprang to life in her belly. This time, when she touched his lip with her tongue, she lingered, testing his resiliency. His breath escaped in a puff of air. She smiled and succumbed to an urge. She nipped his lip. Instead of jumping like she expected, she felt his lips stretch in a smile. “Hell cat.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I felt that all the way to my toes.”

  “I didn’t hurt you?”

  His response was to nip her lower lip. Sensation flashed through her body like a grease fire. “Oh!”

  “Feels good, huh?”

  “Oh my.”

  “Hmmm.”

  She eyed his lips with new respect. They obviously possessed talents she hadn’t considered. “What else feels good?”

  He laughed, gave her a quick kiss, and pulled back. “Lots of things.”

  She licked her lower lip and tasted him there. A shiver went down her spine.

  “Tell me.”

  Asa smiled. For a woman who preached convention, she sure was unconventional. “I’d rather show you.”

  Before she could get around to asking the question he could see in her eyes, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and tumbled them to the blanket. Before she could rethink her decision, he scooped her onto his chest, and pulled her thighs over his. She didn’t look at him while he positioned them, but he could feel the expectancy in the careful stillness of her body. He pulled the pins from her hair, letting it glide like silk over his hands. She didn’t say a word either as he gathered her skirt up over her thighs, but her gasp as he tucked the material under her told him she felt his arousal against her thigh. She wiggled her hips, ruining his alignment.

  “You want to scoot around,” he drawled, stuffing a loop of the material into the sash on her skirt. “I’d be mighty partial if you moved down and to the left.”

  Her brow creased. Her eyes widened as she figured out what he was saying. To his surprise, she slowly moved down until his manhood pressed her intimately. Her heat and moisture teased him through both their layers of clothing. His cock jerked and lengthened, fighting the restriction of his denims. When she pressed her hungry cunt against him again, he couldn’t prevent a thrust of his own.

  “Good God, darlin’! You’re going to be the death of me.”

  “I’m sorry.” That quick, she scooted awa
y.

  “Damn!”

  She picked up on the dismay in his voice. She straddled him again.

  It was a struggle to find a normal tone. “Darlin’, would I be right in guessing you’re not unwilling anymore?” He stopped her hips from pushing against the head of his shaft.

  “I never was.”

  “That’s not strictly true, but I’ll keep that discussion for another day.” He took a breath as she rubbed against him again. His drawl wasn’t the steadiest as he asked, “Do you want to make love with me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then lift up a minute.”

  She did. He made short work of his belt and the buttons on his pants. He slid his hand inside and freed his aching cock. It sprang into the warm sunlight, straight and strong, reaching for her thinly clad pussy. He didn’t take his hand immediately away. She was staring at his cock, her eyes wide. Her tongue peeped out, moist and tempting. She ran it over her lips. His cock twitched and pulsed against his palm, lengthening further, wanting that moist heat wrapped around the sensitive head. He wanted that tongue stroking over the flared expanse, lapping the pre-come from the tip, sliding beneath the head to tease the sensitive underside. With a leisurely movement of his hips, he pumped in time with his mental image, driving his shaft upwards through his hand so it grazed the slit in her pantaloons, tormenting them both with the teasing contact.

  She followed him down on the descent.

  Light as a butterfly, she settled her dry warmth onto his shaft. He jerked when her small hand attempted to encompass his cock, and then stilled as she positioned him to the delicate opening of her pussy. She rocked on him, not hard enough to force a union, but hard enough to wedge the tip into the moistening valley. He slid his hands around her buttocks and stilled the relentless pushing of her hips.

  She bit her lip, and shot him a confused glance. “It won’t go in.”

  He could feel the tension building in her. It didn’t take a genius to see she was trying to do this perfectly. She was just too green to know she wasn’t ready or that he was supposed to have some fun getting her there.

  He ducked her gaze, crossed his fingers, and then church-serious said, “I’m embarrassed to admit this, darlin’, but I’m not ready.”

  “You were before.” She bounced a little. He kept her from doing damage by catching her hips in his hands.

  “Men aren’t like women,” he explained. “They need kisses and sweet-talk before they can, well, perform.”

  “You want me to sweet-talk you?”

  “It would help.”

  “If I kiss you, you’ll be ready?”

  He struggled to hold onto his laughter. “I’d be warming up.”

  Her fingers on his chest brushed his nipples; the tip of her nail snagged one before moving on. Fire flashed through his body. He couldn’t suppress a groan.

  She latched onto the sound like a starving dog faced with a steak. She eyed his nipple, his lips, and then her breasts, discreetly covered in white. “You said before you’d want to kiss my bubbies?”

  “No lie, I’d like to do that again. But, right now, I’d settle for a kiss.”

  She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. Close-mouthed and dry, he didn’t find it much inspiration to anything except his amusement. He didn’t hide his disappointment.

  She sat up. His erection glanced off her buttocks. He bit back another moan. She was sweet and earnest, and she was driving him crazy.

  “I’m not doing this right.” Her voice was an agony of self-disgust.

  He made an immediate decision to shake her of that worry. “How about we make a deal?”

  “What?” Sharp as a tack, the woman had the intelligence to be suspicious. He’d have to be equally sharp if he didn’t want this afternoon dissolving into chaos.

  “Seeing as how you’re green at this, why don’t we come to an agreement?”

  “What?”

  He combed her glorious hair through his fingers. It curled and bounced back into its previous pattern over her shoulders. Lord, he thought, even her hair was stubborn. “Why don’t we agree that I’ll tell you what I want, and then you’ll do it if you feel like it.”

  Her relief was palpable. “You promise to tell me if I do something wrong and you don’t like it?”

  “You have my word of honor.”

  He figured it was an easy promise, he didn’t even need to cross his fingers when saying it. He couldn’t imagine her using that luscious body in any manner he didn’t like.

  She pushed back, hands against his chest, face set in lines of rigid determination and demanded, “Tell me what to do.”

  He rolled so that she was beneath him on the blanket. That would be his pleasure.

  Chapter Twelve

  He propped himself up on his elbow so he could look down on her. “First thing I got to ask is, do you have your heart set on being proper?”

  “No. I’ve pretty much given that up around you.”

  “Good.” Despite the readiness of her reply, he could see she was nervous. Her eyes were huge in her face, and faint lines of tension shadowed her brow. The little lace ruffle at her throat fluttered with her pulse. He reached up and stilled it with one finger before slipping buttons from their holes. No doubt Elizabeth’s nervousness was going to get worse before it got better. The woman did not understand the meaning of the word relax.

  “Come here, wife,” he ordered.

  “That’s the first time you’ve called me that,” she whispered, wiggling to a more comfortable position under him.

  “It is?”

  “Yes.”

  “That a problem?” Might as well address these worries as they came, he decided as he admired the play of sunlight and shadow over her upper chest. With the tip of his index finger, he traced the line of her right collarbone as it arced away from the hollow of her throat.

  She tipped her head back. Goosebumps sprang up along the path of his finger. “Not if I can call you husband.”

  He trailed his finger back along the path just taken. When he reached the hollow of her throat, he pressed. Her pulse beat a rapid tattoo beneath his touch. He smiled. “You won’t find any complaint here.”

  She said “husband” again. There was a wealth of possession in the tone. He found he liked it. Almost as much as he liked her next words.

  “You belong to me.”

  “That’s what we promised before God. To cleave unto each other…”

  “Forsaking all others,” she completed.

  The breeze blew a strand of hair over her chest. It fell forward across her shoulder and caught in the open front of her shirt. He traced its path as it curled down over her breastbone and into the cleavage just visible over the lace edge of her undergarment. “Why am I not surprised you latched onto that part?”

  “Wishful thinking?” she offered.

  Her breath caught as he pulled her camisole away from her skin and stared at the unfettered fullness of her breasts. He didn’t know whether that catch was from embarrassment or excitement. He didn’t really care. The white curves with their rose colored tips shivered enticingly with her roughened breathing. As he watched, the nipples crinkled and pulled into a slight pout. He wanted to feel them harden against his tongue.

  “More than likely,” he agreed. He released the camisole and looked up. “You settled?”

  “I believe so.”

  “You have any objections if I kiss you?”

  “None I can think of.”

  None that she was admitting to, he corrected silently as the tension started in her neck and spread down her body. He sighed, knowing there was no cure for her nervousness but experience. He leaned over. Her eyes closed. He touched his lips to hers. Her brow creased.

  The lips under his were rigid. He moved his lips to the corner of her mouth. She kissed the opposite corner of his. He touched the corner of her mouth with his tongue. Her tongue shot out and tapped the corner of his mouth. He pulled back a breath to get a gander at h
er expression. The crease between her brows indicated high thinking. He sighed.

  “Darlin’?”

  Her eyes popped open. “What?”

  He shook his head. “No need for panic. I just had another question.”

  “What?”

  He chewed on the best way to address the subject, then decided nothing but the blunt truth was going to get the job done. “You wouldn’t be thinking of memorizing everything I do, would you?”

  “Uhm, well, maybe.”

  “Don’t get me wrong.” He undid two more buttons on her camisole and spread the material so it was open from chest to waist. “That’d be a great approach if I were teaching you to rope a calf.”

  She leapt right into the space left by his delicacy. “That’s exactly how I learned!”

  Lord help him, she looked ready to do battle in the middle of his seduction. He worked the little bow free at the waist of her camisole. “And I bet you’re a top-notch roper.”

  “Good enough I don’t toss a lariat twice,” she boasted while casting a nervous glance at the amount of skin he was exposing.

  He kissed the end of her nose. Mutiny dissolved to indignation. “Stay with me here because this is important.”

  From the dead-on way she met his gaze, it was clear he had her attention.

  “Romancing a woman, well, that’s a touchy subject for a man.”

  “It is?”

  He ran his finger down the length of her nose, his heart stumbling over a slight catch when her eyes crossed trying to follow his movement. “Uh-huh.”

  He smoothed her right eyebrow and then moved to the left. “A man has a lot on his mind the first time he lays down with a woman.”

  “Are you saying you’re feeling apprehensive?”

  He could have sighed with relief that she was making it so easy for him. “Sure enough, I’m getting all het up thinking about how you’re studying every move I make.”

  “But how am I supposed to learn?”

  “Let me try to explain it this way. Will you agree that a good teacher is confident in what they’re teaching?”

  Her “yes” was cautious.