Harris Channing

by In Sarah's Shadow

  As if reading her thoughts, David released his hold on her waist and set his hands on either side of her face. "You take my breath away," he mumbled and tilting his head, he claimed her lips.

  Her body hummed to life and without any thought, she leaned into him, allowing his strong form to bear her weight. Dear Lord but it felt good to be so close to him, to enjoy the nearness of another human being. And not just any human being. But David.

  At her surrender he deepened the kiss and she parted her lips to allow him entrance. Their tongues tangled in passionate play and when the moan slid from deep within her throat a firestorm of desire flooded through her. She clutched at the lapels of his jacket, pulling him closer, needing more from him than she did before. Lord help her, she was weak and hopelessly lost. He was the only person in the world who could extinguish the licking flames that threatened to consume her.

  Pulling away, he ended the kiss, his breathing rapid and his eyes dilated. "I want you back, Bobbie."

  He pressed a kiss to her forehead and smiled. "Now, what's say we get some chores done?"

  She set her hand to her lips and watched him go, all the while wondering just how long she would be able to resist him. Her entire body sizzled with unspent need and she didn't suppose that would go away anytime soon.

  Chapter 16

  "I was thinking I'd head to the trading post tomorrow," David said, settling on the rocking chair by the fire. "You want to come along?"

  The trading post. Maybe she should go and stay. Maybe that would be for the best. But did she really want to be any further away from her parents than she already was? Dear Lord, she needed to go see them, to make sure they still rested peacefully in the barn. Her conscience tweaked for wouldn't her going make David angry?

  She opened her mouth to confess her plan, but common sense had her pinching her lips closed. Granted, she owed him no explanation but she also didn't want another incident where he and Reg pummeled one another over Sarah.

  "I'll stay here," she replied from her perch atop the bed. "I've plenty to do."

  "All right. But I want you to lock the door and if you go out, take Alfred. All manner of varmints scurry around here."

  "Yes," she agreed offering him a smirk. "Both the two- and four-legged kind."

  He shot her a glare and then a smile lit up his face. "I assume you mean Crocker."Him among others, she mused. "Yes."

  "Are you sure you don't want to go? You could meet Henry, maybe pick up some things you'd like?"

  "I've clothes, a hairbrush and soap…and of course the food you provide. I don't really need much."

  His gaze caressed her face and she wondered if he used to look upon Sarah that way…before her infidelity. She rubbed her hands down the front of her skirt. How terrible it must have felt to have been betrayed by someone you loved.

  "Well, Bobbie, is there anything you want?"

  The sweet tone in his voice had her aching. What she wanted, no one could provide, save Jesus Christ himself…for He was the only man known to ever raise the dead. "What I want is in Reg Crocker's barn."

  He looked away. "I know darlin'. I wish I could give them back to you."

  She thought perhaps she should thank him, but the truth was she couldn't. Really, she didn't have all that much to be thankful for at the moment. However, she did appreciate his kindness, despite her own misgivings about the man she once loved. She stared back at him, trying to read his thoughts, to delve deep into his mind to find out what the truth was. She considered just asking him, but fear twisted in the pit of her stomach. Dear Lord, she was afraid of his answer. Besides, if he said he didn't murder his wife, would she believe him? And if he admitted it? Well, then what would she do? Gnawing on her lower lip, she decided maybe having questions was far better than hearing the answers.

  Alfred yawned, thankfully distracting her mind from the darkness that seemed harder and harder to fight. Setting her sewing aside, she patted his head. "I'm sorry you can't romp like you once did, but you only have yourself to blame."

  "I noticed you keeping him on a rope, why is that?" David asked, rising from the chair and coming toward her. My, my but he was a tall man, tall and broad and wild. Well, at least he didn't smell anymore.

  Should she tell him why? She silently cursed herself for saying anything. "Bobbie girl, you'd better learn when to keep quiet. Your mouth is going to get you into all manner of trouble." Pa's words of advice rang true in her ears. Secrets were something she felt she oughtn't tell and yet so many times they slipped through her lips. She gritted her teeth…lie or tell? Both had consequences she didn't really want to consider. Sometimes, she knew, despite the teaching of her preacher that the truth didn't set you free. The ropes were just a little bit looser.

  As much as she wanted to inform him that Reg was the reason for Alfred’s leash, she didn't want to deal with his derision. Yes, Reg was a scoundrel, but he wasn't someone she couldn't deal with. In fact, she was near certain she could out run and out climb the man if the need arose. He appeared too proper for the Rockies and far too formal to be an outdoorsman.

  "He ran off and scared me, that's all." Oh, but the lie tasted bitter on her tongue.

  David reached down and gave the dog a scratch behind the ears. "You know what? I've been looking at him so long, I hardly notice how ugly he is anymore."

  "That's because you've seen how good he is," she explained. Why did it please her that Alfred was so fond of David? One couldn't really allow a dog to judge someone's character for them. But then neither one of them thought too much of Reg. "The outside doesn't matter much when the inside is precious."

  "I suppose that explains why you grow more and more beautiful to me every day, precious Roberta."

  He stopped petting the dog and lifting his hand, gently stroked her fingertips. At the sweetness of the contact, her breath caught in her throat and the need for his touch had her pulling away. No! He wasn't going to use her physical attraction for him against her. Damn him, anyway!

  "Don't, David."

  His expression grew sad, the spark left his eyes, and his mouth dipped into a frown. "Tell me what I did. I don't like the distance that's come between us. We could have something special here, Bobbie."

  "No, we can't." She looked away. "You'll only fuck me. You'll never marry me…remember?" Her heart stuttered into a heavy beat. Where did that come from? Yes, she was angry about that, but that seemed like something that didn't even matter anymore. She thought he could have killed Sarah. That was why she was angry…wasn't it?

  "I remember. But I think what I don't remember may be the cause for your current bitterness."

  "Leave it alone, please," she said, focusing once again on her sewing.

  He settled beside her, his gaze imploring. "I don't want to. I want to fix it. I want to make it so you know that what you say matters…that how you feel matters."

  She glowered at him. "I'm not Sarah. I don't need you to hold my hand every second of every day."

  At the pain and confusion that shot across his face, she wished she had just kept her mouth closed. "I know you're not Sarah." He bent over, setting his face level with hers. "You're not a liar."

  She swallowed the guilty bile that crept up her throat. Oh, but she was.

  ***

  David lay back on his pallet, wondering what he could do to get through to Roberta. Her distance bothered him at first, but now…well damnation, it was irritating him.

  Rolling over on his side, he faced the fire and relived the kiss they shared just this morning. The way she held tight to his collar, the way she pressed her delicious curves against him. Damnation, she had him tied as tightly as she did Alfred.

  Fluffing his pillow, he shivered. The floor was cold, hard and uncomfortable. His stomach burned with his frustration and his cock ached for release.

  Sleep, he'd never find it on the damnable floor. And no longer did he want to lie on the spot where Sarah had died. Not sober anyway and even though his body still reminded hi
m that something was missing, and even though his mouth still watered at the thought of whiskey, he was glad to be sober. Glad to start the long road toward forgiving himself…and for finally forgiving Sarah.

  He sat up and ran his fingers through his tangled, matted hair. He stared at the dark curls cascading over his shoulder. How long had he allowed it to grow? Damned near his waistline. God, what had he become? But he knew. Before Bobbie arrived, he was a dying, stinking, drunken hermit. He grimaced. At least now he wasn't trying to die, didn't stink and wasn't a hermit. "Shit," he mumbled, realizing that he'd always be a drunk whether he drank or not.

  With his eyes closed, he listened to the sounds of the cabin. The wind blew chilly breaths that had the timbers creaking in protest. The fire crackled and popped. But the sweetest sound he heard came from the bed. Bobbie's slow rhythmic breathing reminded him that he wasn't alone anymore.

  He smiled and standing, shuffled toward the bed. And there she was. His Roberta. The angel lay on her side, her face toward the window. Moonlight embraced her porcelain skin and had it glowing in ethereal silver. Long chestnut curls turned black in the darkness and cascaded across her pillow.

  His cock grew tighter at the beauty before him and although he would gladly plant his seed deep inside her womb, he didn't budge, content to stare at her and wonder if he could ever convince her to love him. The unanswered question should have been followed by a wave of guilt and yet, the challenge had him grinning like an idiot. Yes, besides never touching a drop again, making Bobbie his was what he intended to do. She would be his wife. He swallowed hard. He'd never met anyone like her before. Strong, brave, willing to work, sweet, compassionate…He could go on and on. Biting his lower lip, he did feel a twinge of guilt followed by a surge of joy. A surge so strong that it nearly knocked him off his feet. She, not Sarah, was the love of his life.

  After what seemed eons, he blinked and realized that the floor was no place for him. By her side was where he belonged. And what better way to convince her of that fact than to have her wake beside him.

  Even as he slid beneath the sheets, he knew that more than likely she'd be livid. But that didn't matter right now. Not with the sweet smell of her intoxicating him. Not with the warmth of her body mingling with his. Not when she leaned against him, the sweet roundness of bottom pressed against his groin. A small, contended smile crossed his lips as he slid his arm around her waist, drawing her closer.

  With his eyes closed he listened to Bobbie breathe until blissful sleep cocooned him in the calmness of her embrace.

  ***

  Bobbie savored the pleasant taste of David's lips pressed against hers. Oh, what a glorious dream. Her body was warm, her relaxation complete as she opened her mouth to receive his probing tongue. Never had she felt such a passionate kiss. This would be a dream she would vividly remember even after awakening. Each tingle of response and each tremor of her flesh. Every bit of it.

  Opening wider, she allowed him to explore her mouth, her tongue responding to his kiss as she experienced a delight she didn't know she could while sleeping. Reaching up, she touched his hard, warm back, the wool of his shirt itchy beneath her grasping touch.

  As he slid atop her, the weight of his body pressed her against the mattress. A divine trap from which she had no desire to escape. Her nipples hardened and her legs slipped open, cradling his hips between her thighs. At the feel of his hardened cock pressing against her groin, her eyes flew open. This was no dream.

  "Good morning," David said, his voice raspy. "How did you sleep?"

  He was smiling at her, his green eyed expression soft and his gaze appreciative and welcoming. A few weeks ago she would have been pleased with his attention, but now all it did was confuse. She didn't want to believe he was a killer and yet…

  "What are you doing here?" she pressed for his answer at the same time trying to pull away. Despite her efforts he held her tight. She should have been angry, should have struggled harder and yet she didn't for it felt wonderful.

  "I was sleeping up until about an hour ago when you snuggled up to me." He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I'm sorry, I couldn't restrain myself any longer. You are a beautiful, sensual woman, Roberta."

  "You should have asked."

  "If I can sleep in my own bed?" He let out a deep chuckle. "Forgiveness is easier than permission and I grow tired of the floor." Quirking his brow, he smirked. "The bed itself was incentive enough for me to consider it, but seeing you in my bed, had me slipping beneath the sheets."

  His words sent an unexpected surge of desire flaring through her. God help her, for a moment she wanted to let go of her suspicions. Needed to feel something more than anger and loneliness and the truth was, she could easily become addicted to the way he looked at her now. There was tenderness mixed with passion and the fact that he was sober aroused her immeasurably.

  She pulled away again and this time he allowed her her freedom. "Still, it's highly improper for a single woman to share a bed with a man. It's bad enough my living alone in a cabin with you, but losing my virginity? Well, that will certainly ruin me for all others."

  "My darling, that is exactly what I want to do." The spark of mischief in his eyes had her tugging the blanket snugly beneath her chin despite the fact that she was fully clothed.

  "What do you mean?" she said, her voice quavering, her mind racing with the possibilities.

  In a quick, easy motion he was once again on top of her, his elbows resting on either side of her head, his bulk pressing against her. With his face but inches from hers he claimed her lips in a kiss that not only had her insides quaking, but her mind reeling.

  Without thought of consequence, she responded. God help her, she was lost, her need far stronger than any concerns she had. Despite her worries, her sorrow, he offered her a momentary reprieve. A chance to feel rather than to think. To let go rather than fight. Yes, just one time. That's all. Give in to what she wanted. Surrender to the yearning that simmered in her every time she thought of him. For mercy's sake, but she still loved him. Didn't trust him, but oh how she loved him.

  He pulled away, his face serious, his eyes filled with his desire and admiration. "Bobbie, I only ever want to make love to you. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

  Tears welled up in her eyes and she reached for him. He wanted her, not as a replacement, but for who she was. And did she dare to believe that he loved her in return? And if he did, was it so wrong that her body trembled at his touch, or that the ache in her belly demanded to be eased? Could she, for a moment, consider that perhaps he'd be different with a different sort of woman?

  Reclaiming her lips, he parted them and slid his tongue between her teeth. His mouth tasted warm and spicy. With no hint of alcohol he was far more inebriating, not to mention debilitating. She opened wider to receive him. If the man could kiss when drunk it didn't compare to the precision he exhibited now. He taunted, teased, and flicked until a moan that seemed to start in her toes whooshed through her and had her clinging to him for dear life.

  The stiffness in her body evaporated and her legs parted, cradling his in an intimacy she could easily grow accustomed to. Moisture slid from deep inside her and she instinctively curved her back.

  He pulled back, gasping for breath. "I want you. Do you know what that means, Bobbie?"

  She too fought for air, the room suddenly hot, and every nerve she possessed came to life as if for the first time. Was she going to allow this to happen? With a man she didn't wholly trust?

  "I swear to you, I'll try my best to never hurt you again." He smiled, but it was a sad sort of smile that warmed her heart. "Even if you can't tell me, can you at least forgive me for whatever it is I said or did?"

  His eyes shimmered with his own lust, yet in the deep recesses of the green orbs, she read his earnestness, and knew his words to be true.

  She didn't verbalize her answer, simply nodded her head. How she could so easily let go of her apprehension she didn't know. But what sh
ould have bothered her more was the fact that she had lost all modesty, all inhibition. She was ready for him to complete the dance they had begun. She wanted him to take her, needed him to fill the void left behind by all her horrible loss.

  With a tender touch, he pushed her hair from her face. "Drunk, I realized you were stunning, but with my eyes clear, there's so much more to your beauty."

  "You think I'm beautiful, truly?"

  "Yes, especially as you are now. So sweet, relaxed…I-I…" He swallowed hard and instead of continuing to speak, he poured his heart out with the most loving of caresses. His hand slid down her neck, his fingers firm as they stroked the sensitive flesh. He reached the small divot at the base of her throat, and stopped. Offering her one more simmering stare, he lowered his head and placed an affectionate kiss on the spot before his mouth traveled upward and toward her ear. Using the tip of his tongue, he drew her lobe between his teeth and nibbled.

  She moaned, his hot breath tickling her deep down and raising a chill across her already heated skin. Running her fingers through his thick curls, she relished the coarseness and strength that she felt. A shiver chased across her and she turned her head, inviting him to continue to tantalize.

  "You like that?" he whispered and she lazily nodded her head. He chuckled and rolling onto his side, he pushed back the covers, his gaze traveling the length of her. So heated was his stare, that she found it hard to believe he wasn't looking through her clothes.

  "I want to undress you. I want to touch every inch of your body."

  She swallowed hard at the lusty timbre in his voice. Pulling her lower lip between her teeth, she stared at him, waiting for him to move.

  A smile slid across his face. "You always have something to say, Bobbie. Say something now."

  Dragging air into her lungs, her mind raced toward the carnal. She wanted him to touch every inch of her. She wanted to feel the length of him inside her body. Oh, how she ached for the experience. Despite the disappointment she was sure her mother would feel, and despite the guilt that would probably come later, she wasn't about to turn back. Not when this feeling, this feeling of belonging to someone, clouded her judgment. She would worry about all of that later. But now, she would experience everything he had to offer a woman, because she had learned something living in this cold, unforgiving place. That you never knew what would happen next.