One-Click Buy: March 2009 Harlequin Blaze

by Alison Kent

  Reassuring him that the fit was perfect, she rocked her hips, clenching her muscles around him as he pushed into her. He needed no more encouragement. He thrust back, so deep, so hard that a cry breached her lips before she could stifle it. She moved with him to let him know it was okay, and to get him to ignore the uncontrollable tears seeping from her eyes down to her hairline.

  With his head thrown back, his shoulder muscles bunching, his body gleaming, he looked savage as he pumped into her with a steady forceful rhythm that pulled her to the brink of mindlessness. She reached down to touch herself, but he slid his hand beneath hers and unerringly found the pleasure spot. He’d barely begun to work his magic when the first spasm hit. It shocked Reese, and her whole body convulsed with the intensity.

  Relentlessly, the waves came, until she had to bite her hand to keep from screaming and waking half the town. He came at the same time, his pounding rhythm turning frenzied when she met his every thrust. He moaned loudly, and then arched his back with a final plunge that left them both trembling.

  He withdrew slowly, his glazed eyes finding hers, his hands molding her breasts before smoothing down the side of her ribs and over her hips. He almost smiled, but then leaned back and pushed away from her. She started to protest, until she recognized it had to be uncomfortable for him on the narrow cot.

  She watched, praying he wouldn’t simply walk out of the room. When it looked as if that’s exactly what he planned on doing, she lifted herself on one elbow. “Sam?”

  He picked up his Levi’s and looked at her.

  “Don’t go.”

  He shifted uneasily. “You need sleep.”

  “So do you. We’ll sleep together.”

  He scrubbed at his face. His Levi’s blocked the important stuff, but he had a damn fine chest, and she felt another tingle of arousal.

  She slipped off the cot before he used it as the obvious argument for not staying. Although the way his gaze slid down her nude body, as if he could devour her in seconds, she figured he might be too single-minded to think that far ahead. But she wasn’t taking any chances.

  She slid her arms around his waist, went up on tiptoe and let the friction of her sensitive breasts against his chest do the convincing. He lowered his head, and she pressed her lips to his, opening for him when he probed her mouth with his tongue. She kept the kiss short, though, and then said, “I’ll be right back.”

  “Reese.” His scandalized voice stopped her before she’d even touched the doorknob.

  “I’ll be right back,” she repeated. “I promise.” And then she yanked open the door, shivering because it was cooler out in the open livery.

  The fire was almost dead, most of the light gone, but she found the bedroll. She should have known. Before she managed to grab a decent hold, he was there beside her, draping the handmade quilt over her shoulders.

  She smiled, though he doubted he could tell in the darkness. “I wouldn’t have come out here if I thought anyone would see me.”

  “Go back inside.”

  She started to protest, but then saw him crouch down and roll up the bedding. Sighing, she led the way back. For goodness sakes, she should have just asked him to get it in the first place. She was so used to doing what needed to be done herself.

  He dropped the bedroll on the floor, and she shoved the door shut, wishing it had a lock on it. She let the quilt fall from her shoulders, draped it over her arm and turned back to Sam. He stared at her as if he had no idea what to do next.

  HE’D NEVER BEDDED A LADY before. When a man got done with a whore, he left. He didn’t make idle talk, or lie with her beyond the act of coupling. He sure as hell didn’t sleep next to her. But Reese wanted him to stay. Might be that was one of the differences between a whore and a lady. Bold as she was, Reese was still the latter. From her petal-soft skin to the sweet scent of her hair.

  Just looking at her perfect pale breasts, he started getting hard again. If he stayed in this room, they wouldn’t sleep. That was one thing he was sure of.

  “Sun’s coming up soon,” he said. “Reckon I should go tend the horses.”

  “No.” She tossed the quilt on the cot and went to him. “The sun won’t be up for a couple of hours.” She slid her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek tightly against his chest. In his hand, the thick denim of his Levi’s stood between them, separating their bodies. If she felt his hardened cock, she might reconsider. He tossed the Levi’s aside.

  She shivered and moved snugly against him, allowing his erection to nudge her belly. His arms automatically went around her.

  “You sleep on the cot,” he said, his throat so dry he didn’t recognize his own voice.

  “No.” She pulled away and glanced at his bedroll. “There’s room for both of us.”

  “The ground is hard.”

  She shot a look at his manhood, opened her mouth to say something, and then just smiled. She sat on the bedroll by crossing her ankles and gracefully lowering herself. As her knees opened, his breath caught at the sight of her. The soft blond curls hid most of her secrets, but he knew what was there, and that was enough for sweat to break out on his brow.

  “I forgot the quilt,” she said, her gaze going to his midsection.

  His cock twitched. He grabbed the coverlet and lowered himself beside her as she stretched out. If she thought he could keep his hands off her, she was sorely mistaken. Lying on his side, he braced his head with one hand, and with the other, traced the line where the skin around her nipples met the golden tone of her belly.

  “Sun has touched you here,” he said, lightly dragging his fingers over the velvety softness. He didn’t understand how she could remain so soft after having been marked like this. The sun made his own skin rough and leathery. Who could have forced this on her? Why? “What happened?”

  She glanced down and smiled. “Nothing happened. In my time it’s considered attractive to be tanned. Not too much, or it’s bad for your skin, but lots of men and women like to have a little—” She gasped when he rolled his thumb over her nipple.

  He smiled in turn, and put his mouth on her. She closed her eyes as he suckled her, relaxing back against the bedroll. He wished he could take her to the hotel. She deserved a proper bed. But the risk was too great.

  He hadn’t seen her move, but he jerked at the feel of her small hand wrapping around his cock. She started at the base and knew just how much pressure to use as she stroked up to the tip. Surprised at how hard and ready he was, he leaned back, fighting for control over his body. She used the space he gave her to pump him slowly until the pressure was too great to ignore.

  Ah, hell. He’d told himself he’d go slow this time. His restraint slipping, he urged her to turn on her side, and quickly entered her from behind. She was ready for him, hot and slick and tighter than a glove. He closed his eyes and sank deeper into her, regretful that his mouth couldn’t catch her sweet whimper.

  She moved against him, her smooth firm buttocks rubbing his belly as she drove him to madness. He curled an arm around her slim waist and cupped one of her taut round breasts. It took only moments for him to explode. He groaned loudly as he emptied his seed into her, with so much fierceness that he shuddered violently.

  She had to be a witch. No woman had ever made him feel like this before.

  She quivered in his arms and slumped against him. He couldn’t stop touching her tight budded nipple. She moved her head, and he kissed the side of her neck as he slipped out of her. She made a soft mewing sound and wiggled her buttocks into the crook of his thighs, as if seeking comfort he didn’t know how to provide.

  “Good night, Sam,” she whispered, laying her arm over his, tugging it more snugly around her.

  He tensed, not sure what to do, or if he wanted to stay here like this. But she was so delicate and supple in the circle of his arms, her sweet feminine scent pulling at him until his brain was too muddled to form a sensible thought. Inhaling deeply, he relaxed, and felt the gentle rise and fall of her b
are bosom against his arm.

  His chest tightened in an unfamiliar way. Here she was, snuggled up to him, bare as the day she was born, and strangely, it wasn’t desire that stirred in his loins. The sudden protectiveness he felt toward her shocked him. He had no experience with the feeling. Sure, he’d been looking out for Doc and all, for some time, too, but this was different.

  Was this what being married felt like? He’d never given thought to it before. That he had now sent an uneasy feeling through his gut. He wasn’t the marrying kind, and even if he was, no decent woman would have him. He could never provide a wife with a respectable life. For him, survival meant sticking to the shadows, forgoing the town picnics and dances and all the polite socials a woman needed.

  He listened to Reese’s quiet, even breathing, unsettled that she’d fallen asleep in his arms. With a dawning amazement, he realized she trusted him. She trusted that she’d be safe, that he’d protect her.

  That he wouldn’t hurt her.

  Warmth flooded his chest, and for a second he didn’t think he could breathe. Other than Doc and Jake, had anyone ever trusted him so completely? Panic gripped him. He shifted so that they weren’t so close. The little fool thought he was a good man. She couldn’t be more wrong.

  She was like silk, and willing, and she’d given him much-needed relief, but he’d be the bigger fool if he reckoned she could mean anything more than that. Bad enough that since she’d come the nightmares had returned, after months of quiet sleep. She caused them to return, he thought with sudden clarity. All her crazy talk about him being a good man.

  His thoughts went to Jake, to that black day when everything had gone to hell. Satan himself had come to call that night in Lawrence, Kansas, and Sam had traded his soul, not knowing it was for the promise of eternal damnation. He should’ve been the one to die. Not all those innocent men who’d had the bad fortune to possess what Captain William C. Quantrill coveted. But Sam had been a coward.

  Reese sighed in her sleep, squirming until her buttocks were once again flush against his privates. The temptation to take what she offered held him frozen for another minute. And then he came to his senses, and slowly moved far enough back that he could roll over without disturbing her.

  He got to his feet and found his Levi’s, drawers and shirt. He didn’t dare stop to get dressed, but quietly carried his clothes out of the room. Once he was on the other side of the door, he inhaled deeply. Today he’d help her get the hell out of here. And then maybe the nightmares would stop again.

  REESE FLOPPED ONTO her back and rubbed her sore hip. As bad as the cot was, the hard ground had been miserable. Sam was gone, which didn’t surprise her, because the sun was already up. She yawned and stretched, and then pulled the quilt up to her chin. She was tired enough to sleep another few hours, but she didn’t dare. Especially not lying here naked like this, with only that sad excuse for a door between her and whoever happened by the livery. But then again, maybe she could tempt Sam into crawling back under the quilt with her.

  Her belly and breasts got tingly as she thought about last night. She never would’ve guessed he could be so tender. A couple of times he’d lost it and got a tad rough, but not enough to frighten her. And he hadn’t been at all selfish. In fact, in the few relationships she’d had, she couldn’t remember feeling more sated. He knew just how much pressure to use, just how deep to kiss her, as if they’d been perfecting their play for years. It was kind of scary, mostly because she felt she knew Sam better than she really did.

  She thought she heard something, and listened for a moment. It was Sam, she was pretty sure, feeding the wood stove. Slowly, she raised herself to a sitting position, surprised at the aches that had nothing to do with the hard ground. Had it been that long since she’d been with a man? She remembered it had been quite a while. Medical school and her residency rotation hadn’t afforded much opportunity to nurture a relationship.

  Besides, she hadn’t met anyone interesting in a long time. Certainly no one like Sam. And, gee, she only had to travel a hundred thirty years back in time to meet him. She squeezed her eyes shut at the reminder. She had to get back home. And once she did, she’d never see Sam again.

  Her eyes flew open and the air seemed to whoosh from her lungs like a punctured balloon. Her hand shook as she threw back the quilt and got up. Why this reaction, she didn’t know, because that wasn’t new information. Sam lived here, now. She lived in the future. That wasn’t going to change.

  But had she? No, of course not. Panic edged close to reason. The intimacy they’d shared was interfering with her logic. She had responsibilities, family, work obligations. Her decisions involved far more than just herself. She totally understood that.

  Damn it. How could she have been so stupid as to make love with him?

  So, it was simply afterglow, she told herself, as she sorted through Martha’s blouses. Reese found a dark blue one made of light wool, a little too thick for the warmth of the afternoon, but she’d be going braless today. Had she been thinking clearly last night, she would’ve washed her underwear before she went to bed, so it would be dry by now.

  But obviously, she hadn’t given much thought to anything. Yes, the sex had been great. The best she’d ever had. But that’s all it was. Sex. A haven of comfort in the swirl of uncertainty. She’d felt safe in Sam’s arms, protected. But nothing had changed between them. Nothing could.

  She slipped on the blouse and buttoned it before splashing her face with water Sam had left in the bowl. After she was done, she divided the remaining water between the bowl and the basin and added soap flakes to the former. Then she scrubbed her bra and panties until her knuckles were as red as the expensive silk. Never again would she take her washing machine for granted, she thought as she rinsed her things in the basin. She didn’t know how people here had enough time to do everything.

  The selection of skirts was slim. Thinking longingly about her huge walk-in closet full of designer clothes, Reese winced and settled on a skirt that was a shade darker blue than the blouse. A hideous match to be sure, but she wouldn’t get anywhere being picky.

  She had a lot to do today. She’d promised Doc she would review some of the procedures she’d described to him, so that he could write them down. She pulled on the skirt and sat at the edge of the cot to slip on her shoes. Belatedly, she noted she should have washed her socks, too. Ladies’ stockings would be easier, so maybe she’d ask Sam to pick up a pair at the general store.

  The idea of asking him to do something so personal for her brought her up short. She was just being silly, and that wasn’t like her at all. She stood, adjusted the skirt and ran her fingers through her hair. She moved to the door and hesitated, surprised that she was nervous about seeing Sam. In that moment, through the wooden panel, she heard Hastings Barnett announce himself.

  14

  “GOOD MORNIN’ TO YOU, Mr. Keegan,” Hastings Barnett said in his distinct East Coast accent. “I’ve come to collect Goliath.”

  Listening at the door, Reese felt her heart beat wildly. If the man left Deadwood, the threat to Sam would be gone. At least that line of thinking seemed reasonable. Not that there’d been any logic to the past three days.

  “He’s a fine animal,” Sam replied. “Looks as if he’s got some Arabian.”

  “Perhaps. I won him in a game of draw poker from a Texas rancher.” Hastings Barnett laughed. “Lucky for me, those boys down South like their cards and whiskey. Ever been to Texas, Mr. Keegan?”

  “I spent some time there,” Sam said slowly, almost reluctantly. “I’ll add up your bill.”

  She fisted her hands to keep from trembling. She wanted Barnett gone. Now. Back to wherever it was he came from. As long as he was faraway from Sam.

  “Happy to pay up, Keegan, but you misunderstand. I have business at the mine today. I’m bringing Goliath back this afternoon.”

  Reese groaned with despair. She clamped a hand over her mouth, but it was too late, judging by the men’s abrupt silenc
e. They made no more small talk, and soon she heard Goliath trotting out of the livery, obviously carrying his owner. Even when she thought it must be safe to leave the room she waited for Sam’s knock, which seemed to take forever.

  She pulled the door open, stunned at the sudden wave of shyness that swept over her when she saw him. He wore his usual Levi’s and a tan shirt, and his long, dark, wavy hair was the same. Still, today he looked different. Taller. Broader. More heart-stoppingly handsome.

  “Hi,” she said, her voice barely audible. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Good morning.”

  He nodded, his gaze flickering to her breasts.

  The thickness of the wool fabric didn’t seem to matter. Her puckered nipples strained against the blouse, making it obvious she wore no bra. “I had to wash my underwear,” she murmured.

  “There’s coffee and biscuits,” he said brusquely, looking away. “Doc came looking for you.”

  “Does he have a patient?”

  “Nope. Said you were gonna meet up with him today.” He pulled a pair of gloves out of his back pocket.

  “Oh. Right. I told him I’d go over some of the procedures we discussed at dinner.”

  An odd stab of disappointment unsettled her. She’d actually gotten excited over the idea of having a patient to tend.

  That was pathetic.

  And Sam clearly wasn’t himself. Did he regret last night? She hoped not. She wanted to kiss him and feel his arms around her. “Do you have time to sit with me and have some coffee?”

  He stared at her as if she’d just spoken a different language. “I have chores to do.”

  “I know.” She walked closer to him.

  He purposely pulled on a glove. “I got a late start.”