by Alison Kent
The kiss wasn’t gentle. He angled his head and pressed hard against her lips, forcing past the seam with a hard thrust of his tongue. Obviously he was trying to frighten her, but achieved the opposite effect. She slid her arms around his neck and kissed him back, her tongue dueling with his, the sudden yearning for his touch burning deep in her belly. Her breasts ached with it, and the temptation to draw him back to the small room and strip him bare fueled an enthusiasm that caught her off guard.
He released her arms, and she briefly thought he might push her away. But he caught her at the waist, and then one hand slid around to the small of her back, urging her closer. She sighed into his mouth, and he pulled her even closer, until their bodies touched and her breasts were crushed against his muscled chest. She felt the buckle of his belt dig in just above her waist, while the hard length of his penis taunted her.
Heat surged through her body, so intense it was as if molten lava coursed through her veins. She craved the feel of his work-roughened hands on her sensitive breasts. She desperately wanted to stroke the silky steel of his shaft. When he ran his hand over the swell of her backside, she moved her hips against his erection.
He groaned, the guttural sound coming from deep in his throat. His plundering tongue turned so forceful she stumbled backward. He held her upright, slowing the kiss, and then abruptly released her. He moved back, breathing raggedly.
“Had enough?” he asked hoarsely.
“Not nearly.” She clutched his arm when it looked as if he was about to walk away. “Sam, please.”
“Go back to the room,” he ordered and she watched him turn away to adjust his fly. “Close the door. I won’t bother you.”
She half laughed, half sobbed. “Don’t you get it? I want you to bother me.”
He shook her arm free and went to stoke the dying fire. A flame licked up, illuminating the tortured expression on his face. “I’m not the man you think I am,” he said quietly. “Now go.”
“I know enough to respect and admire you.”
He let out a coarse laugh.
“I know that I want to do more than kiss you. I want to see you naked. I want you to touch my breasts.”
He jerked a look toward her, his eyes gleaming with baffled fascination.
She crouched beside him and laid a hand on his arm. “If that shocks you, I’m sorry. Women in the future are different than what you’re used to. We’re equal to men in every way, and we’re not considered whores for wanting the same things men want. In bed or out.”
He didn’t look convinced as he turned back to tending the fire.
“We have the same needs, and we aren’t ashamed to voice them. Sometimes we even tell a man what feels good and what we’d like him to do to us.”
The look of horror that crossed his face made her press her lips together to keep from laughing. “Sounds a mite dangerous,” he muttered.
“No, actually, it works out quite well for all parties.”
He gave her another sharp look, his gaze narrowing, probing. Maybe he thought she was teasing him. “Tell me what you like.”
She blinked, taken aback by his sudden interest. “Well,” she said, hedging, until she noticed the smirk tugging at his mouth. So he was calling her bluff? That was all the incentive she needed. “Let’s see….” She stared at the flames. “I like long slow kisses, lots of cuddling. I like my neck kissed right here.” She pointed to the spot below her ear, and then met his eyes. “Oh, and I like my nipples lightly bitten and my breasts suckled kind of hard.”
The smirk vanished from his face. He dropped the poker, got to his feet and wiped his palms on his Levi’s. Standing directly in front of her, he couldn’t hide the growing thickness behind his fly.
“I’m not done,” she said.
“You try a man’s patience.”
“Oops. Sorry. Didn’t mean to.” She grinned, and pushed herself up.
He helped her to a standing position, then tugged her hand, forcing her to take a step closer. “I’ve killed men. Many men,” he said flatly.
She sucked in a breath. His statement shouldn’t have shocked her, but it did a little. Though this was a different time, people played by different rules…Sometimes they had to kill to survive. “I’m sure you had good reasons.”
“Some of those men didn’t even need killing.” His face was hard, his voice emotionless.
She swallowed convulsively. “You don’t carry a gun,” she said lamely.
“The deeds were done long ago. Not carrying a gun now doesn’t change who I am.” One side of his mouth hiked up. “Still think I’m a good man?”
Her mouth was so dry she couldn’t speak. She could only stare at him, unwilling to believe the picture he tried to paint. Why was he doing this? Was he that eager to be rid of her?
Sam released her hand and hooked a finger under her chin, forcing it up. He waited until he’d captured her gaze, his eyes mocking, and then stroked the back of his fingers down her cheek. “You still want me to do those things to you?
She moistened her lips and slowly nodded. “Yes.”
First surprise, and then pain flickered in his face. He hastily withdrew his hand as if the touch had seared his skin. “Get out of here before I change my mind,” he whispered through gritted teeth, and turned sharply away.
“No.”
Slowly, he faced her again. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
Reese started unfastening her blouse. “Bring a lantern,” she said, briefly meeting his watchful eyes, and then headed for the room.
Her heart raced with the enormity of what she was doing. How could she trust this man after what he’d just told her? She was by no means a stupid person. Not only did she have a high IQ, but she had the good fortune to possess common sense. After Sam’s admission, there wasn’t a single logical reason why she shouldn’t run and hide. Stay as far away from him as possible. Yes, she’d seen how admirably he’d assisted Doc, experienced his kindness firsthand, but she’d also witnessed that streak of hardness that hinted at his capacity for violence.
So why did every instinct tell her that she wasn’t wrong about Sam? He was a good man, in spite of what he claimed. He had no reason to lie, and every reason to hide the ugly truth. There was more to his story, she was certain of it. She wanted to hear it, too. But not now. She had other plans for him.
She undid the last button and shrugged out of the cotton blouse, shivering not so much from the cool air as from the idea that Sam would be joining her. That is, she hoped he would, and hadn’t gotten back on his horse and taken off again.
She glanced over her shoulder, suddenly uncertain. A light flickered, and she breathed with relief because he’d lit the lantern. She turned around to face the doorway while she unsnapped her skirt and stepped out of it. A moment later Sam appeared, his hair damp around his face, and she briefly lamented not having used the washbowl herself.
He carried the lantern into the room, his gaze staying on her as he set the light on the chest. “Last chance,” he said reluctantly.
She smiled in answer and reached around to unhook her bra. She let it fall away from her body, snatching it up before it hit the ground.
Sam’s lips parted slightly, desire burning so hot in his eyes that she felt a little light-headed. While he watched her, she cupped the weight of each breast and played with her already beaded nipples.
She heard his sharp intake of breath, and then he yanked the shirt from the waistband of his Levi’s. The garment didn’t have buttons going all the way down like modern ones. The buttons stopped midway, and he only unfastened the top two before pulling the shirt over his head and flinging it toward the door.
He had two scars, one near his right nipple, and the other a remnant from an older injury, a long, thin white line below his rib cage. His chest was well muscled, with just a smattering of hair, and his belly enviably flat. He undid his belt, pulled it free and dropped it where he stood. His boots were not so easily removed, and she smiled
at his impatience as he jerked each one off with a grunt.
She quickly got rid of her own shoes, but left on the panties. Sam unsnapped his Levi’s, watching her with an intensity that could be warning or desire, she wasn’t sure which. She shivered and went to him, seeking his warmth. His hands stilled in the act of removing his jeans. She put her palms on his broad chest and then slid them up until her arms were looped around his neck and her bare breasts flattened against the hard muscle.
They both shuddered. He stroked his hands down her back, his palms rough and callused but surprisingly gentle. He cupped her bottom and drew her firmly against his erection. She moved her hips, just a little, just enough to show him she planned on full participation. He groaned quietly, and then, demonstrating what a good student he was, lowered his head and nuzzled the spot near her ear that she’d showed him.
She smiled at the slight tickle from his stubble and let her head loll back to offer her throat. His hot mouth glided over her skin, the damp heat from his tongue leaving its mark as he made his way to her collarbone.
“You’re so…beautiful,” he murmured, his warm, moist breath dancing across her sensitive flesh.
Reese brought her head up, and he abruptly claimed her mouth, his tongue immediately exploring. She kissed him back, hard and sure, leaving no doubt what she wanted. When his hand found her left breast, she arched into his palm, her craving for his touch driving her a bit mad. He lightly pinched her nipple, rolling the nub between his thumb and forefinger, as if testing the texture, before splaying his palm and cradling the full weight of her breast.
She wanted to see him, all of him, but she didn’t want him to stop the light, torturous kneading. Lowering her arms, she reached between them and finished unfastening his Levi’s. When he realized what she was doing, he moved back, giving her enough room to pull the denim down his hips.
His long underwear went down with his jeans, his hard and ready cock sprang forth, making her pulse race out of control. She paused in her mission, and then finished dragging the underwear and denim down his thighs, brushing the hard, silky tip with her lips as she forced the Levi’s to his ankles.
Sam sucked in a startled breath. Quickly, he rid himself of his clothes. Before he could take further action, she guided him to the cot and urged him to sit. His dark eyebrows dipped in confusion, and she kissed his forehead right there where the two drew together. He was so much taller than her, she’d already planned her strategy.
She stood between his spread thighs, plunging her fingers through his thick dark hair for balance while he slipped the red silk thong down her legs. It still amazed her how gentle he was, so much more than she’d expected. With one steadying hand at her waist, he held the panties for her to step out of.
He didn’t immediately cast the thong aside, but stopped to briefly study it with a bewildered look on his face.
She smiled. “Bet you never saw anything like that before.”
He slowly shook his head, and with far more reverence than he’d handled the other clothes, he set the scrap of silk beside him on the cot.
Reese laughed, the sound quickly dying when he took a nipple into his mouth. With a hand molded to each side of her waist, he ran his palms over the curve of her hips and then back up while his tongue flicked and rolled around her nipple. After a couple of repetitions, and giving her other nipple its due, he moved his hands to her breasts, pushing them together so that he could get both nipples in his mouth, suckling them so greedily that she could barely stand.
He must have felt her slight swaying, for he looked up at her, his eyes glazed, his lips damp. “I want you,” he said hoarsely. “I want to be inside you.”
She nodded numbly and let him urge her backward.
He got up, and she couldn’t stop staring at the sheer beauty of his smooth thick shaft, the crown already glistening with moisture. He lifted her chin and kissed her, his lips warm and firm against hers, and then he pulled the quilt to the foot of the cot. Her panties disappeared in the folds, and she had the crazy thought that she’d have to remember where to find them.
It almost felt as if she was standing behind a one-way glass, watching a movie scene being set. He rearranged the straw pillow, and then smoothed out the thin sheet covering the cot. She had no idea what he was planning. She doubted the cot could support their weight. Not that she cared. He could spread the sheet on the bare floor and she’d gladly follow him down.
He moved out of a shadow, and her breath caught when she saw the ugly, flat round scar near his right shoulder blade. A burn had left that mark. Almost as if someone had branded him. Was that how he’d paid for his sins? She didn’t want to think about his past right now. Or his future. At the reminder of the photograph of him propped up in the coffin, she shuddered.
He turned to her, his dark eyes troubled and probing. “I won’t force you.”
“No.” She gave him a tight smile. “I know. It’s not that.” She had to tell him what she knew. Just not right now. She put out her hand.
He took it, his hungry gaze running down her body before he hauled her up against him. He cupped her bottom and held her steady while he moved his lean hips. Her breath caught at the amount of heat his cock seemed to give off. She reached between them and wrapped her palm and fingers around his hot, swelling flesh. He pulsed in her hand, his breath hissing between his teeth.
Taking her by the shoulders, he led her cautiously backward until she felt the edge of the cot behind her legs. She understood his intention and lay down, looking up at him. He truly was a striking man in every way, from his intense brown eyes to the glistening manhood that inspired a hunger in her she’d never experienced before. She wouldn’t be patient much longer. If he didn’t—
He grabbed her calves just above the ankle and pushed her legs until they bent at the knee. She wasn’t shy about her body, but when he sat on the cot before her, she wasn’t quick to let her knees spread. He did it for her, prying her legs apart, his obvious impatience making him a little less gentle than he’d been before.
His eyes briefly met hers before his gaze homed in on the juncture of her thighs. He forced them farther apart, his nostrils flaring at what he saw. His gaze unwavering, he kissed the inside of one knee.
And then he put a finger inside her.
13
REESE JUMPED at the invasion. She thought she’d been ready, but he’d surprised her. His hand stilled as he watched her, uncertainty in his eyes.
“It’s okay,” she whispered.
He didn’t seem convinced, and since she didn’t know what else to say, she thrust forward so that his finger went deeper. She closed her eyes at the delicious feel of him, moaning when he hit just the right spot. Her reaction apparently gave him confidence and he spread her nether lips, his eyes drinking their fill, before he circled the small nub and had her arching off the cot.
Slowly he withdrew his finger. “You’re not a virgin.” It was more a question than a statement, an odd dread in his tone.
She blinked, and held back a laugh. “No. It’s different in the future. Few women my age haven’t experimented sexually to some degree.”
He looked relieved. “You’re still tight.”
She did laugh then. “I haven’t exactly screwed an entire fleet.”
He frowned, and she caught on that he wouldn’t understand the word fleet. And then he touched her again, with just the right amount of pressure, bringing exquisite pleasure to her every nerve ending, and proving some things were timeless. With his free hand, he cupped her left breast and then, using the pad of his thumb, teased her nipple with a circular motion.
She didn’t know why, because she wanted him as much as he wanted her, maybe more, but she automatically clamped her thighs together. A ghost of a smile touched the corners of his mouth and he turned his hand, silently asking for better access. She immediately parted for him, and with his eyes still on her face, he kissed the inside of her bent knee.
Her need to feel him inside
of her intensifying, Reese almost told him he could skip the taking it slow part, but she liked all of this, too. She liked the tender way this big strong man gazed at her, touched her as if she were a breakable porcelain doll. She hadn’t expected this treatment, although that was stupid, because she hadn’t really expected anything.
He’d told her he was a killer. That should have been enough to strike fear in her heart. But there was more to it. There had to be. She had good instincts about people. Besides, Sam had nightmares. He might have killed someone, but he had a conscience, he felt regret.
She moved her head so that she could see his hard, thick erection, but before she could touch him, he groaned, grabbed her ankles and straightened her legs. She let out a small shriek of surprise but he caught her mouth with his, silencing her, as he threw one leg over the cot and straddled her.
Her breasts heaved with excitement, nudging his chest, the warm, crisp hair there tickling, exciting her even more. He trailed his lips to her nipple, nibbling lightly, first one and then the other. His rigid sex lay hot on her belly, and she shifted with impatience.
He stopped to look at her, his gaze somber, his biceps trembling with restraint. “I don’t have any—I don’t want to make you pregnant,” he said in a husky voice.
“You don’t have to worry about that. It’s taken care of.”
He frowned slightly, his gaze going to her mouth.
“Another modern miracle.” She wasn’t about to explain about advances in birth control at this point. Instead, she lifted her hips so that she rubbed the base of his cock, and watched as his restraint shattered.
The gentleness disappeared from his face, and she didn’t mind at all when Sam roughly pried her thighs far enough apart to allow him entry. He guided himself to the soft folds, probing until the broad head of his penis gained a stronghold. His eyes closed briefly, his neck corded with his clear attempt at control. His hard, muscular thighs kept hers spread, and even if she’d wanted to she couldn’t stop the slow hot penetration.
Trying to ease the coiling tension low in her belly, she clutched his muscled shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. But he didn’t seem to notice. He pushed in another inch and then gazed down at her through dazed eyes before squeezing in a little more. He was trying to let her get used to him, she realized with a sudden giddiness.