The Surrender of Lacy Morgan

by Suzanne Ferrell

  His warm breath fanned the bare skin over her uninjured shoulder, igniting a shiver as he loosened the knot that kept the bandage tight around her.

  While Dakota worked, Quinn sat near the fireplace, cleaning his Colt and watching them. She shifted her gaze to meet his. His words from the night before rang in her mind.

  “A warm, sexy kiss is always the best way to thank a man for caring for you.”

  “You want to please us both, don’t you?”

  Dakota unwound the first bandage, leaving only the squares of cloth covering the gouges made by the cougar. He laid them on the bed beside her, then ran his hand up her bare arm and shoulder. “You’re doing fine. Now take a deep breath.”

  Held spellbound by the intense blue of Quinn’s gaze, her body warmed by Dakota’s gentle touch, she obeyed and inhaled just as he pulled the first cloth from the largest wound.

  The tugging caused only a minor burning, much less intense than the day before, and she exhaled.

  Dakota squeezed her good shoulder. “Excellent.”

  “That didn’t hurt as much.”

  “Because it’s healing. We still need to clean it and reapply the poultice, but only one spot is still bleeding.”

  “Tell me about the day of the Cheyenne raid,” Quinn asked suddenly.

  Like a cold slap, his words reminded her not only were these two men her lovers, but determined lawmen bent on bringing outlaws, including herself, to justice.

  She lowered her eyes to her hands, holding the shirt close to her breasts. “Devil had gotten word that a military payroll was being held at the Cheyenne Bank. A cavalry unit was supposed to be coming to pick it up and escort it to the northwest outposts.”

  “The official amount was thirty thousand. Ten thousand in paper, twenty thousand in gold coins.”

  She blinked and looked at him once more, the blood draining from her face. “We heard only ten thousand.”

  Oh God, how could it have been so much? No wonder Devil had nearly whipped her to death to get it back. What would he do when she returned and he learned what she’d done?

  Quinn blurred before her eyes. The room spun.

  “Whoa there, Lacy.” Dakota gripped her shoulders. “Breathe deep.”

  “What happened?” Quinn asked, coming to stand beside the bed.

  “N-nothing. Just a little pain. That’s all,” she mumbled, bracing one arm on the bed and willing herself to stay vertical. Let them think the wound was paining her and making her dizzy, not her own panic.

  It was stupid to give in to the fear now. She’d made her decision all those months ago, the night she left Devil’s valley. At the time she’d known the consequences. That had never changed.

  Slowly the dizziness passed. “I’m okay.”

  “You’re sure?”

  The tenderness and concern in Quinn’s eyes touched something deep inside her. It both thrilled and scared her. She was torn between showing them she was strong and begging him to gather her in his arms again.

  Strength won out.

  “There’s no choice.” She glanced over her shoulder at Dakota’s concerned face. “Go ahead.”

  He looked at Quinn. She saw the subtle nod exchanged between them, then Dakota began washing the old poultice loose.

  Quinn returned to his seat. “So Devil got wind of the payroll. Do you know how?”

  Back to interrogating her. Fine, she could handle his questions, better than his tenderness.

  “He has a man working the telegraph offices in Denver. Someone he knew back during the war. Any news on large deposits and Devil gets a message.”

  “You know the man’s name?”

  “George is all I know. Devil never said his last name.”

  “This is going to sting,” Dakota said behind her.

  The fresh poultice stung, but at least it didn’t smell as bad as some of her grandmother’s old remedies.

  “So how many of Devil’s men were at the bank that day?” Quinn asked.

  “Five men rode into town two days before. They positioned themselves at vantage points on the main street where they could see both the bank’s entrances, the one in front and the one in the rear.” She took a breath. “Devil, his number two man, Santos, and I rode in the next day just after the bank opened its doors. They dismounted and entered from the front while I took the horses around back to wait for them.”

  “Were you outside the whole time?” Despite his focus on the disassembled parts of the gun he was oiling, she felt his attention on her. His questions were meant to distract her from Dakota’s ministrations, but she knew he wanted honest answers.

  “The plan was for them to get the money and exit from the rear, where I’d be waiting with the horses.”

  “So you didn’t see Marshal McCarthy enter the bank? Didn’t have any way to warn him?”

  She shook her head. In all honesty she could say she hadn’t seen the marshal enter, and she’d never imagined he or the others inside the bank would be killed.

  “No. I never saw him.”

  “You have no idea who actually shot him?” Quinn’s voice deepened with emotion.

  Had he known the marshal? Had they worked together before?

  “I don’t know who killed him. All I heard were the shots before Devil and Santos stormed out the back door. Believe me, I had no idea Devil meant to kill anyone or I would have tried to warn them. None of them should’ve died.” She swallowed hard. Tears pricked her eyes at the reminder of how she’d failed that day and how her failure had cost so many lives. “I’m so sorry.”

  For a few moments the only sound was the steady click of metal as Quinn reassembled his Colt, and the soft graze of cotton on her skin as Dakota finished dressing her wounds.

  They might not believe her, but she truly was sorry. Sorry she’d been part of the deaths and the bank robbery. Sorry she’d ever given in to Santos’ charm. Sorry she’d ever trusted him. Sorry she’d lured the marshal to his death.

  Finally, Quinn stood, sliding his gun back into the holster tied to his thigh. “I’m going down to the telegraph office. See if we got any replies from the others.”

  “When you get back, I’ll hunt down those supplies we’ll be needing.” Dakota carried the bowl of dirty water and bandages to the dresser.

  Quinn nodded, his jaw set in a hard line, but tenderness softening the fine lines around his blue eyes. He stared at her a moment as if he wanted to tell her something. Instead, he turned on his bootheel and left the room. The door clicked closed behind him and she sat staring at it, confused.

  “You can get dressed now, pet.”

  Dakota’s voice broke the spell cast over her. He stood with his back slightly to her. She watched as he lathered her soap over his dark hands and thick forearms, his movement both meticulous and sensuous.

  She remembered those hands on her. The way his fingers touched her gently while healing her wounds. The way they’d tweaked her nipples as they’d teased her during their sexual torture those first few days.

  Twice she’d given her body over to Quinn’s complete fulfillment of her. Would Dakota be as demanding a lover? Would he be gentle? Could she make him lose control like she had Quinn?

  Suddenly, she wanted to discover the answers.

  Completely naked except for the shirt still clutched against her breasts and the glittering submissive’s collar, she rose from the bed. Slowly, she crossed the few steps to stand beside Dakota. She waited for him to rinse and dry his hands, then turn to face her.

  Refusing to give in to her embarrassment, she let the shirt drop to pool at her feet.

  His eyes grew darker and he sucked in a breath. His gaze slowly slid down her body. Each place it stopped—her breasts, her stomach, the juncture between her thighs—all seemed to grow warmer just from the intensity of his perusal.

  She traced her hands up his arms to cup his face and marveled at the smoothness of his skin. Such a contrast to Quinn’s scratchy early morning beard and the bristly beards of the
few members of Devil’s gang who’d tried to steal a kiss from her over the years.

  Leaning up on her tiptoes, she stretched her body along the length of him and pressed her lips to his. He held perfectly still, his lips parted only slightly. Determined, she slipped her tongue inside. He tasted of coffee and pure male.

  And she wanted more.

  Teasing his tongue with hers, she shifted, her hardened nipples rubbing across his chest, only the soft material of his shirt separating their bodies. A tremor passed through him, but he made no move to claim her.

  She slid her hands behind his neck, letting them wander into the mass of dark hair that hung to his collar, the silky thickness so different from her own or even Quinn’s. She moaned and swept her tongue deep into his mouth.

  Finally, he gripped her around the waist, growling deep in his chest and taking charge of the kiss. Crushing her to him, he slid his tongue deep inside her mouth, forcing hers to retreat.

  Her heart tripped a beat, thrilled that she could drive this man to lose some of his quiet control. When he slipped his hands down to grip her ass cheeks and grind her pelvis against his thick erection, she mewled like a kitten wanting cream.

  Still gripping her ass in his warm hands, Dakota edged her backward until her legs touched the bed. Then he stopped, easing the kiss back as he released his hold and slid his hands up her back to rest just beneath the bandages.

  Why was he slowing down?

  She tried to pull his head in tighter, to show him she wanted him.

  He resisted. “Look at me, pet.”

  Opening her eyes, she stared into deep, dark pools of desire.

  “Why do you want this?”

  Why did she want him so badly that her body ached? What had he and Quinn done to her? It was as if her body had hibernated all these years, her sexuality dormant until they’d come and awakened the woman inside.

  “Is it because you simply desire me? Or is it more?”

  “More?” She wasn’t sure what he meant. But he seemed very serious about getting the right answer from her.

  He kissed her again, softly, pulling her bottom lip between his teeth.

  Another shiver of desire shot through her.

  “Is this simply for your pleasure? Or mine?”

  He repeated the kiss and gentle bite, preventing her from answering.

  “Or because Quinn wished it of you?”

  Breathing in deep and exhaling slowly, Quinn stood at the end of the hallway, trying to get his anger and pain under control. He’d had to get out of that room before he ruined all the progress they’d made with Lacy.

  Damn. He still wanted to storm back inside, throw Dakota out and keep her to himself.

  Last night had been the first time he’d ever slept with a woman the whole night through. And he’d wanted to hold her close, inhale her scent in the dark, feel her pressed against him as he spooned her.

  Since rescuing her from that muddy hillside, he’d thought of her more as a person, instead of a means to an end. He hated to admit it, but she touched something inside him, something he didn’t know existed since his parents died—his heart.

  And it scared him like a wolf in a cattle stampede.

  He didn’t have time to be tender. To think of anything beyond their mission. And certainly not with a woman he’d have to hand over to the territorial judge when they were finished.

  Listening to her describe the day’s events leading up to Cap’s murder had knocked the wind out of him. He’d been dizzier than the first time a maverick had thrown him in the ranch’s training corral.

  The tears filling Lacy’s eyes and the anguish on her face as she remembered that afternoon showed how shocked she’d been by the killings. He’d wanted to gather her in his arms and comfort her, to feel like the man Cap wanted him to be. A protector.

  But the best way to protect Lacy and innocent citizens was to capture Devil. And for that he needed Lacy. He needed her focused on obeying and pleasing him and Dakota. He needed her confident in her control and theirs. He needed her ready to walk back into hell.

  Knowing what Dakota had planned, he pushed away from the wall and strode down the hallway to the stairs. He had about half an hour before he needed to return. Time to do a little shopping for Lacy.

  Dakota watched the emotions play across the soft features of Lacy’s beautiful face.

  Confusion. Then understanding of what he asked.

  “Why do you want this, Lacy?”

  “I could lie and say because I simply desire you.”

  “You don’t want me between your thighs then?”

  “I didn’t say that. Yes, I want you, but not just because I find you attractive…” A blush crept over her body, just enough to heighten the café-au-lait color of her skin. “Because Quinn asked me to thank you with my body.”

  He lowered his lips and kissed her thoroughly, holding her face between his hands. He waged a war on her senses with his tongue, deeper, stroking her until soft moans escaped her again.

  Slowly he pulled back, thrilled at the soft gasp she gave before opening her soulful green eyes.

  “And would you offer your body to me if any man asked you to?”

  She didn’t hesitate before answering. “No. Just for Quinn.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he saved me.” She tilted her head to the side as if she suddenly realized a truth. “Because I trust him.”

  Pleased with her answer, Dakota released his hold of her face and stepped back. Running his gaze over her body as he removed his shirt, then his breeches, he took in her full, ripe breasts. Her nipples stood out like dark buttons begging for attention.

  Later.

  From the first night he knew just how sensitive her breasts, and in particular those nipples, were.

  Her slender waist made his hands ache to stroke the contours on their way to her rounded hips and long, smooth thighs. Thighs he couldn’t wait to feel wrapped around him as he thrust inside her.

  Then he dropped his gaze to the russet-colored curls nestled at the juncture of her thighs. His cock jumped and thickened with the knowledge he’d soon be buried there, deep inside her body.

  He stroked his hand over her soft belly down to those curls and in between her thighs. The moisture of her excitement slicked his fingers as he parted her folds and tested her readiness. She couldn’t hide her need to please him.

  Her scent filled the room as he slid his fingers back out and licked her moisture from them.

  Leaving her standing, he stretched out on the bed, propping the pillows behind his head. Thighs spread wide, he fisted his erection from tip to base and back again, gaze locked on Lacy’s.

  “Pleasing me pleases Quinn?”

  She licked her lips. “Yes.”

  “And pleasing us gives you control, doesn’t it?”

  Dawning lit her eyes. “Yes.”

  He motioned her to climb on the bed between his spread thighs. “Show me.”

  Crawling onto the bed, she resembled a lioness slowly stalking her prey, breasts and hips swaying with her movements. She stopped at his knees, sitting back on her haunches. Trailing her hands up his thighs, she watched him as she caressed his muscles, inching closer to his cock.

  “May I kiss you like I did that day at the river?”

  The memory of her mouth suckling him sent more heat rushing to his already-throbbing cock.

  “Yes,” he almost growled.

  She leaned in and slid her tongue up the entire length of him.

  “God, yes. Do it again.” He gripped the sheets with both hands to keep from reaching for her.

  Like a cat eyeing a bowl of cream she smiled, then laved her tongue down the thick muscles of his straining erection all the way to the base. Then lower—dear gods of his ancestors—to his balls. She swirled it around one, then the other, sending shots of lightning through his body.

  Shoving one hand into her hair, he clenched the curls a moment, both enduring and enjoying her gentle torture.
When he couldn’t stand it any longer he pulled her up by her hair.

  “Suck me,” he commanded.

  She obeyed, taking his length deep inside her mouth until the head hit the back of her throat. Up and back she slid her mouth, lips pulling at his thickness. She adjusted her position, arching her neck, her throat opening to let his shaft thrust in deeper.

  “Damn, yes! Swallow all of me.”

  Both hands now buried in her hair, he took control, guiding her up and farther down each time. The sounds of her slurping and sucking mixed with his groans. When the tingling started in his balls he knew he needed to stop her or risk spilling his cum in her mouth. Which was not part of the plan today.

  “Enough,” he growled, pulling her off his cock. Her mouth remained a perfect O. Her disappointment pleased him almost as much as her efforts.

  He stroked one hand down her cheek and rubbed his thumb over her swollen lips. “Ride me, Lacy.”

  With the grace he’d seen her use to mount a horse even with her hands bound, she rose and straddled his hips. The moist folds of her hot sex poised over the head of his straining shaft.

  “Take me inside.” He gripped her hips to steady her.

  “I’ve never…” A quaver shook her voice.

  “Shh, pet. You know what to do. You’re in control now.”

  Her hands on his chest, she moved back and down, her silken folds parting and sliding over his thick rod.

  Damn, she was tight. Heaven. She felt like a snug, hot glove of pure bliss around him.

  “Oh yes. More, pet. Take all of me inside.”

  She shifted slightly and he slid in to the hilt.

  “Yes.”

  “Oh!”

  He looked up to see her eyes closed, her lips parted in ecstasy. Back arched so her breasts thrust forward, a fine sheen of moisture glistened on her skin.

  Magnificent. A goddess meant for sex. Just as she’d looked last night impaled on Quinn’s cock.

  “Oh, damn, yes!”

  She shifted, slowly grinding her sex on him. Her pelvis pressed tight against his, her pink tongue sliding between her lips as if she were tasting a delicious dessert.