Capturing The Marshal's Heart (Escape From Texas)

by Carroll-Bradd, Linda

  The last button popped from its restraint and she slid free the ribbon ties on her petticoat. With a wiggle of her derriere, she inched the skirt and petticoat downward, being sure they landed on the rug to deaden the sound of the coins. She stepped back and raised her arms to remove the pins from the twist holding her hair.

  At the sight of her honey-colored curls tumbling over her shoulders, his hungry eyes lit with feral heat.

  With a quick kick, she scooted the pile of fabric under the bed and sashayed around to Slade’s side of the bed.

  Slade hadn’t moved. His long legs hung over the side of the mattress, feet braced on the floor, and he lounged back on his elbows. His darkened gaze focused on her face. “Are you always this sassy?”

  Giving him a wink and a wide smile, Jazzy nudged his legs wider and stepped between them. “I can be.” Unable to resist the pull of his intent gaze, she rested both hands on the bed and leaned close. “And sometimes I’m sassier yet.”

  In a flash, he twisted his body and clamped a restraining hand on her upper arm, levering her to sit on the edge of the mattress. Warm fingers fumbled along the inside of her left hand.

  A metallic snap filled the air.

  Jazzy started and her eyes widened at the touch of cold metal against her skin. She looked down at the shiny handcuff encircling her wrist, the other end hooked to the bed rail, and back up at Slade. Her heart skittered a beat, then a smile pushed up the corners of her lips. Angling her head, she looked upward through a swath of curly strands and winked. “Oh, it’s that kind of night, is it?”

  Chapter Three

  For a moment, the sauciness of her question didn’t register. He was too busy concentrating on the heat where her touch had branded his skin. Slade looked down at her wrist to make sure he hadn’t just imagined using the bulky handcuffs.

  “What kind of night?”

  She gave him a slow wink and a smile full of anticipation stretched her lips. “Captives.”

  He shook his head. Shouldn’t she look more upset? Most criminals he’d arrested fought at the first touch of the metal restraint against their skin. Then they started with the loud denials, seeking to convince him of their innocence.

  With a wiggle, she eased closer and rested her free hand on his forearm, a glint lighting her blue eyes.

  The muscles under her hand jumped in response. Why couldn’t he keep his mind on business? What about this woman had gotten under his skin since the first moment he’d sat beside her on the stagecoach?

  Grinning, she pressed closer, brushing the front of her corset against his chest. “Am I a southern belle and you’re a dirty Yankee who just occupied my family’s plantation? Or am I the medieval maiden being kidnapped by a rival laird for the price of her father’s lands?”

  At the friction her movements created, he sucked in a breath—only to inhale her fragrance. Her skin radiated a spicy heat that sent his thoughts spinning toward sinful pleasures. Pure torture. The animal part of him wanted to take her right here, right now. The lawman part of his brain told him to ignore what was being offered and just do his job. “What about the sheriff and the bank robber?”

  Looking from under lowered eyelids, Jazzy ran a finger along his jaw. “I haven’t played that one. Sounds like fun. But my favorite is the princess kidnapped by the Indian warrior. Will you be my warrior, Slade?”

  Slade gritted his teeth against the pure need flashing through him and the hunger building in his loins. Too much time had passed since he’d last enjoyed a woman’s soft touch. That had to be the reason his control was weakening. He knew not to mix pleasure with business, but a part of him couldn’t resist the enticing lure of this playful siren.

  The expression in her eyes softened, her lips looked soft and moist, and too much skin was within easy reach.

  “So I’m your prisoner? What do you want from me?”

  The one-word answer, information, was on the tip of his tongue. When his gaze flicked down to satiny breasts plumped by her corset, he reconsidered. A few kisses might not hurt. Might be the best method to utilize so he could learn what he needed to know.

  “Only a small taste.” He lowered his head and grazed his mouth along her temple and down her cheek. Immediately, his shaft hardened and pushed painfully against his trousers. Before he realized what he was doing, he’d tangled his hand in her silky hair and held her head in place. He leaned close, intent on capturing her mouth.

  Instead, she angled her head so his lips moved along her cheek while her mouth brushed kisses along his jaw and she lapped at his neck.

  A low moan sounded and Slade couldn’t tell whose it was. Raising his head for a better angle, he tried to catch her gaze. Panting breaths tickled his chin, and her cheeks were flushed pink with excitement.

  Her lids fluttered open, but her expression was wary.

  “Such fair skin, Jessimay. Fitting for a pampered princess.”

  She moaned and raised a hand to his shoulder, rubbing gentle fingers along a slow path that ended at the back of his neck. “But are you a savage?”

  His skin rippled at her touch and he shifted a leg to lessen the pull in his groin. A flood of passion flowed through his body. He couldn’t get enough of this tantalizing woman. “You don’t want to test me.”

  “Oooh, such tough talk.” She eased back and, with one hand, worked on loosening the buttons of his shirt, her blue eyes flashing with sexual heat. Her fingers fumbled and pulled on the fabric.

  “Slow down.” He covered her hand with his and pressed until her fingers stilled. “No need to rush.” His thumb slid along the underside of her palm and drew small circles then drew it across the pulse point throbbing just under the skin of her wrist.

  For a second, her mouth rounded then she gasped and shivered. “That tickles…but I love it.”

  Decisiveness. An admirable quality. Releasing his hold on her hair, he chuckled and grazed his knuckles the length of her cheek. “Then you’ll love this.” Trailing one hand over her shoulder and down to her elbow, he eased her second arm over her head and snapped the steel cuff closed. Leery of her reaction, he lowered his body onto the mattress and watched.

  Her body stiffened. “What’s this?”

  “A test of your control.” His voice was pitched low and he studied her expression to make sure she wasn’t panicked. Seeing her steady gaze, he ran his fingertips along the inside of her wrist to the crook of her elbow. “I want to touch you all over.”

  Jazzy bit her lower lip and squirmed. “Really?”

  In slow caresses, he eased his fingers along her arm, enjoying the smoothness. Up and over her shoulder, along her collarbone before he dipped into the hollow of her throat. His heart raced but he didn’t want to hurry. Simple touches were just fine for now.

  Responding to each of his caresses, she stretched her legs and rolled her hips, making the mattress shift from her fidgety movements. A breathy sigh escaped her lips.

  “You like that?”

  “Oh, yes.” Her words puffed out.

  His blood thrummed in his ears, pounding with a primal beat, and he had to take a deep breath before continuing. “What about this?” He skimmed his fingers down the middle of her chest and ran them along the skin at the upper edge of her corset. His pointer finger delved into the valley between her breasts and heated from her warm skin.

  Sighing out a long breath, she arched off the mattress and the cuffs clanked against the headboard. “I want more.”

  Those three words shattered his restraint. Because he couldn’t get enough of her, he spread his fingers across her bare back, savoring her skin’s silkiness. Angling his body, he eased her backwards until she again laid flat on the mattress, arms awkwardly raised over her head.

  “Slade, I need both hands. Please undo the handcuffs…my warrior chief.” Dipping her chin, she batted her eyelashes and grinned.

  One glance at her awkward position and her captured wrists, her hands that were prevented from touching his skin, drove his decision. H
e dug the key out of his trouser pocket and unlocked the handcuffs, letting them fall to the rug with a muffled clunk. Then he set to kissing her cheek, her jaw, her earlobes, her neck. Every spot his lips touched smelled spicy like her and aroused him more. Her reason for allowing such liberties nagged at his thoughts, but he pushed it away.

  He needed this night, he wanted this encounter. Since she was obviously willing, he intended to enjoy his fill of what this surprising woman offered his lonely self.

  Taking time to enjoy each inch of skin he could reach, he kissed his way down to the tops of her breasts, but was blocked from his ultimate goal by the stiff edges of her corset. He lifted his head and whispered, “Roll to your side.”

  “Hmmm?” Pants of soft breaths escaped through her parted lips. Her eyes were closed and one hand played with the lock of hair that curled around his ear.

  “I need to untie your corset.”

  Her head lifted off the bed. When she looked at him, her forehead furrowed and her eyes shot wide. “You’re really going to undress me?”

  His heart rate slowed and he bit back a groan. Now was not the time for her to play innocent and coy. “Yeah, more fun with fewer clothes.”

  With languid movements, she shifted her hips and rolled, cradling her head in the crook of her elbow. “But I can’t reach you.”

  She sounded like she was enjoying this as much as he was. He tugged on the laces, hoping he wouldn’t rip the fabric in his haste to get this confining garment off her sweet body. “Sit up a second. Raise your arms and I’ll slide this over your head.”

  The moment the corset loosened, she obliged and sighed deeply.

  He tossed it behind him and, an instant later, her thin chemise was gone, revealing the pale skin of her back. For just a second, he closed his eyes, savoring the rare connection he felt with this surprising woman. He rested his hands on her creamy shoulders, running his thumbs along the angles of her bones. Red pressure spots marked her skin, branded all the places where the corset had pinched, and he bent his head to dot the lines across her back with soothing kisses.

  “Oh, yes.” She arched and reached back to run her hands along his sides with stroking caresses.

  Instinct surfaced. Slade flinched at the sensations of a touch so near where his gun usually rested. He forced himself to relax and enjoy her gentle touch. Scooting closer, he dropped kisses on her nape, then reached around to her breasts and let their weight fill his hands. His thumbs massaged a path from the sides of her breasts almost to their tips, but stopped just shy of the nipple.

  She leaned back against his chest and rested her hands on his thighs. “I like this position.”

  “Me too, Jessimay.”

  “You can call me, Jazzy.”

  A nickname? Didn’t sound like one a family member would bestow. The part of his brain that still worked like a lawman’s tucked away this new information. “Jazzy. It fits.” His thumbs retraced the path, this time moving closer.

  “Oooh, that’s nice.” She dropped her shoulder, angling toward his questing thumb. Her hands ran up and down his thighs.

  To put them both out of their misery, he flicked her nipples with the tips of his thumbs and enjoyed the sight of them tightening into hard beads. He shifted his hands and rolled the tips between his fingers, reveling in the sensation of her warm breasts cupped in his hands.

  She stiffened and her hands clamped hard onto his thighs. “Oh, yes. Harder.”

  Her response fired his blood and his erection strained against the fly of his trousers. By stretching out his leg, he scooted closer and pressed his shaft against her hip. But it wasn’t enough. He had to touch and taste more of her. He planted a kiss in the notch where her neck and shoulder met, his tongue laving her sweet skin. The urge to brand this woman as his own swept through him and he sucked harder.

  Jazzy squirmed in his embrace, her head rolling on his shoulder.

  Slade raised his head, an apology already forming on his lips.

  She turned and knelt in the vee of his legs, golden curls tumbled over her shoulders. Luminous blue eyes connected with his gaze, while her hands moved toward the buttons of his pants. “My turn to undress you.”

  Content to simply watch, he leaned back on his hands and gave her easier access to his trousers. From this position, he enjoyed the sight of the rosy tips of her nipples peeking through the fall of her tousled hair.

  Her fingertips tracing the band of his trousers tickled his stomach. With each released button, her hands moved lower, brushing against his engorged shaft. He drew in a deep breath and gritted his teeth, trying to imagine each caress as accidental. Because if he didn’t, he’d have to admit how close he was to losing control. A self-control that hadn’t wavered in years.

  When the last button was undone, she trailed a single finger along his length, then winked. “Impressive.”

  A groan rumbled from deep in his chest and he drew her down on top of him into a tight embrace. Her plump tits crushed into his chest and he couldn’t deny how right their bodies felt together. With gazes locked on each other, they used their hands to caress each inch of exposed skin, teasing each other to a feverish pitch.

  “Whoooeee!” She broke away and rolled off him, the bed frame creaking with the sudden movement. Propelling herself with her arms, she jumped from the bed and reached toward his feet, yanking the hems of his trousers until they started to slide down his hips.

  The pull of the fabric against his engorged ramrod inflamed him more. To keep himself from exploding, he eased himself up, balancing on elbows and heels.

  In only a few moments, she’d stripped off his clothes and stretched out next to him. Her hand caressed a circle over his chest and stomach. “Isn’t that better?”

  He kissed her nose. “Much.”

  As if they’d been together before, they snuggled into position, her softness fitting perfectly against his hard angles, her lively spirit filling the hollow insides of a solitary man.

  With an intent born of pure need, Slade ran his hand over a breast, toying with the nipple until she sighed, then ran his palm over her stomach to the waistband of her pantaloons. He slipped lower and probed the opening in her drawers until he felt the springy nest of curls covering her mound.

  In an instant, she stiffened in his arms, a resisting hand pressed hard against his chest. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Jazzy, I’ve got to touch you.” Dropping kisses on her shoulder, he eased his hand downward so his fingers could delve into her silky folds. Deep in his chest, a knot loosened, one he hadn’t known was there. With each stroke along her moist, womanly furrow, he felt her body relax.

  At the same time, his own body tightened, with aching need. The raw need to be inside her.

  He pressed one finger into her honeyed channel and back out. Then again, deeper this time.

  Her breathing quickened and her hips angled upward, as if following his hand. “Oh, Slade, don’t stop.”

  He rubbed a knuckle around the hardened bud of her womanhood and felt it swell under his touch. In response, his shaft throbbed and fullness settled in his groin. With swift movements, he probed her channel, first with one finger, then with two, and massaged her bud with the pad of his thumb.

  Her hips bucked under his hand, and she drew up a leg close to her bottom to brace a foot on the springy mattress. As she lifted her hips, she rotated them and pressed against his hand.

  Slade kept up with her movements and dropped kisses on whatever bare skin he could reach, his own skin warming as he pleasured her body.

  “Oooh, I’m on fire.” Jazzy’s head tossed from side to side and her hand reached up to caress her own nipple, plucking at the tight bud with an increased tempo. “Help me, Slade.”

  The confusion in her voice didn’t match the unashamed way she touched herself. But Slade was too busy concentrating on her arousing body to contemplate that question. He scooted down a few inches and kissed his way from the rounded top of her tit to its rigid peak.
His tongue swirled around the tip and he blew on it, enjoying how it puckered at his touch.

  Jazzy grabbed the back of his head and held him in place. A throaty moan escaped.

  His tongue flicked across her taut nipple, making it bead even tighter. Then he drew it into his mouth and continued swirling his tongue around the tight bud. The strokes of his tongue matched those of his fingers. His own need raged and he pressed his shaft against her hip.

  “Slade!” Jazzy cried out at the same moment she clamped a hand onto his shoulder and jerked her hips.

  From deep inside came waves of her completion, as dewy drops of her ecstasy dripped along his fingers, but he kept massaging her bud until her body quit shaking and relaxed. When she lay limp in his arms, he gently brushed the damp tendrils of hair off her forehead and cheeks.

  She turned her head and looked up, specks of flickering lamplight reflecting in her shining eyes. “Your hands are truly wonders of nature.”

  Was that awe he detected in her voice? How could that be?

  She shifted, let her hand trail down his side, and caressed his hip. “You certainly are a patient man.” Her fingers ran his rigid length and back to circle the head, stroking with gentle touches.

  He hissed out a breath. “For good reason.”

  Her soft hand encircled his shaft and started a sensual massage, alternately cupping and rolling his balls in her palm. Her thumb rubbed the underside, while her fingers rippled along his sensitive shaft.

  All rational thoughts fled and his body acted purely on instinct. Possess and claim. He pushed off the mattress enough to untie her pantaloons and strip them down her legs. Finally, he could look at her body in all its exquisite naked glory. But he was past the point of gazing—he had to have her. “Jazzy, I need to be in you.”