Mustang Wild

by Stacey Kayne

  Did she truly hold such a low opinion of his moral character? Hell, he had more integrity than to turn his back on a woman carrying his child. He wouldn't have seduced her if he feared it was her most fertile time of month. Not about to be caught in a paternal web, he'd sought out an education on how to avoid such situations early on. Never accused of being shy, he had no trouble finding an experienced widow willing to share her bed and wisdom on the matter.

  As Tucker watched Skylar, it dawned on him that she may not have a clue as to when a woman was in the most danger of conceiving.

  No wonder she's mad. She thinks I put her at risk of bearing a child.

  Tucker twisted against a tension that seized his spine.

  He didn't like knowing Skylar thought ill of him.

  Finished with her evening watch, Skylar walked into camp just after midnight. She was surprised to find the fire still burning.

  "Evening."

  She jumped at the sound of Tucker's casual greeting. He sat in the shadows beyond the glow of the fire. "What are you doing up?"

  "Waiting for you. Sit and talk with me for a minute."

  She eyed him warily as he patted the ground beside him. "We don't have anything to talk about."

  "Yes, we do. I've been thinking about what you said today, and I'm wondering how much you know about a woman's fertile time of the month."

  "Tucker! " Her gaze darted to her brother in his bedroll on the other side of the fire. "Garret is sleeping not four yards away."

  "Come sit down and I won't have to talk so loud. Either way, we're going to talk about this, Skylar. I won't have you thinking I bedded you without regard to you becoming pregnant."

  He'd lost his mind! Skylar glanced again at Garret sleeping beside the fire.

  Tucker shot to his feet. "Fine, let's take a walk." He grabbed her by the hand and tugged her after him before she could refuse.

  Walking off into the dark with Tucker was a bad idea. A real bad idea, but Skylar didn't have much choice. The man seemed determined to speak his mind. She silently followed him, trying not to focus on the warmth of his large hand wrapped around hers, dreading whatever he was set on telling her.

  They'd walked a good distance, weaving past trees and thick bushes, nearing the location of the horses before Tucker stopped.

  "Tucker—"

  "No," he said, pulling her toward him. "You had your say, now I'm gonna have mine. Just how much do you know about reproduction?"

  "What?"

  "You know, how and when a woman gets pregnant and all."

  Skylar felt her mouth drop open, the blood draining from her face. Did he truly expect her to answer such a question? She was fairly certain she had a handle on the how, but she wasn't about to say so.

  "After what you said to me today," he continued, "I'm thinkin' you don't know a whole lot, so let me fill you in on a few details."

  Speechless, she stared up at his stern expression. Her mind reeled as Tucker began explaining the reproductive cycle of a woman, and how her monthly bleed determines her period of fertility. She tried to pay attention, certain this was all useful information, but she was somewhat distracted by his hand on her back, the feel of his hip pressed against hers, his gaze, so intent on her.

  "So, you see?" he said. "If I thought there was a high risk—"

  "How do you know there wasn't?"

  "I pay attention, sweetheart. Wasn't hard to figure out

  why you were taking twice as many trips into the bushes this past week and had suddenly become religious about washing laundry."

  Skylar gaped at him, her mind wavering between horror and sheer embarrassment that she'd been so transparent.

  "I'm sure no one else noticed," Tucker assured her.

  "You did."

  "I also made a living at paying attention to the minutest detail. Outlaws don't exactly want to get caught"

  His other arm moved around her, imprisoning her in his strong embrace. Skylar felt a rush of panic and instantly pulled back. "Tucker, don't."

  "Skylar, you're making me feel damn guilty, and I don't think I did anything to feel guilty about. I didn't force you."

  "I know that." She stood stiffly in the circle of his arms, desperately trying not to feel the sensations caused by his light embrace, silently commanding her body not to respond to him.

  "Do you think I'd force myself on you?"

  "No," she said, annoyed by the tremble in her voice.

  "Then why are you shaking?"

  "Because you...you're touching me."

  His eyes gleamed like emeralds in the moonlight. "I'm barely touching your coat," he pointed out.

  It was true, yet the heavy canvas barrier didn't keep the slight pressure of his hands from burning into the small of her back.

  "I haven't even tried to kiss you," he said with a slight grin. "Do you want me to kiss you, Skylar?"

  "No!" she lied, infuriated by her body's refusal to cooperate. Tucker nuzzled her hair, causing her breath to quake and sending a violent tremor through her body. All of which she was certain he heard and felt.

  "You sure, honey?"

  She wished he wouldn't call her that. She held her breath as his lips moved over the shell of her ear. Her traitorous mind remembered the feel of those soft lips roving over her bare skin.

  "I'd sure like to kiss you." he whispered.

  Not about to force her, Tucker loosened his hold on her and eased back. She was fighting it, but he saw passion in her gaze. Fighting his own urge to tug her against him, he carefully placed his hands on her shoulders then slowly slid them across the length of her arms and he gently took her hands in his.

  "Tucker?"

  Hearing her voice as a plea, Tucker dipped his head and brushed his lips across hers. She stood stiff as a rooted tree, allowing him to kiss her, yet not participating, but she wanted to. He felt it as his tongue glided across the trembling seam of her lips, heard it in the quake of her breath. He parted her lips with his tongue, tasting her sweetness and the passion she was trying not to reveal.

  He felt the moment she gave up her internal struggle. A deep contented sigh broke from her throat. She slipped her hands from his and coiled her arms around his neck. Her body relaxed against him as she angled her head, fitting her mouth to his, sending a shock wave of passion crashing through his body as she took full possession of his mouth.

  By the time he lifted his mouth from hers, they were both shaking, their lungs pulling frantically for breath. "Damn," he sighed. Skylar rested her forehead against his chest. Her quick breaths swirled inside his open shirt with each labored rise and fall of her chest.

  "I can't do this, Tucker. It doesn't make sense."

  He smiled and brushed his lips across her soft hair. "Sure it does." His hands slid under the back of her jacket and tunneled under her shirt. She moaned, leaning into him as he caressed the warm skin of her slender back. "You need to be touched, as much as I need to touch you."

  "We shouldn't," she said, meeting his lips as he lowered his head for another soul-searing kiss. She shifted against him, making a muffled sound that could have been a protest.

  Tucker instantly ended the kiss, and silently berated his lack of control. "Honey, if you want to stop, I—"

  Her tongue quite effectively cut off his words as she tugged him back against her body, which was fine with him. He was far too busy returning her kiss to be bothered with words anyhow.

  Dear God, she was killing him, one kiss at a time.

  Tucker pulled his hands out from under her shirt and reached for the buttons, needing to feel her skin against his. He brushed open her shirt and camisole and hugged her against his bare chest. She trembled in his arms, her gasp lost inside his mouth as he kissed her.

  He listened to every catch in her breath as he caressed her fully, enjoying each sigh of pleasure he drew from her, repeating each caress that made her tremble.

  "You're so soft."

  Skylar's teeth closed over the tense muscle in his ne
ck. Her short fingernails scored across his back, biting into his skin as she rubbed hotly against him. Tucker began to wonder who was seducing whom. She was burning him alive!

  The ache in his britches becoming nearly unbearable, he reached between them and jerked at the steel buttons. "Don't panic, honey," he said, feeling a rush of relief at loosening the strained confines of his denims. "I'm just easing some tension."

  Her hand closed over him, shaking him with a wild rush of desire as she measured him from tip to base and back again.

  "Better?" she asked, her smiling lips pressed against his neck, just before she opened that sassy mouth and treated him to a kiss that sent his mind and senses reeling.

  "Damn," Tucker groaned.

  Weakened by the pounding rush of pure fire, he sank down to the ground, taking Skylar with him. She didn't protest their change of position. She shoved him onto his back with an aggressiveness he found to be damn exciting. She stretched out on top of him, stoking the fire raging through his veins, beneath his skin.

  "Tucker," she said, the tremble in her voice telling him she was burning just as badly for him.

  Their hands collided in an effort to unfasten her denims. She used her hands instead to lever herself up and give him better access, urging him to hurry as her tongue traced his lips. His fingers fumbled with her button fly as she kissed him nearly unconscious. He didn't think he'd ever get his fill of her kisses. Damn the inconvenience of her britches!

  Through the pounding of his pulse and their heavy breathing, Tucker heard a rustling sound beyond the brush they were lying behind. Someone was approaching. A horse, he thought, hearing the creak of a saddle.

  Skylar's wide eyes locked with his. She wrenched herself from his arms and darted through the brush with the speed of a startled doe, disappearing into the darkness without disturbing so much as a leaf.

  Struggling with the loss of her body pressed against his, Tucker closed his eyes for a moment. Blinking to clear his vision, he forced himself to his feet. He was still puffing like a freight train, trying to catch his breath when Chance rode through the scrub and trees.

  "Tuck, what the hell are you..." Chance's eyes widened in the moonlight as his voice trailed. "Hell! If Sky has you that worked up, you bes' ride into the nearest town and get yourself a woman. Two or three if you have to."

  Tucker cursed and quickly adjusted his clothing. "I wasn't—"

  "I don't want to hear it," Chance said, holding up his hand. "There are some things a brother just shouldn't have to witness," he grumbled as he rode back to his post.

  It was on the tip of Tucker's tongue to set Chance straight, and tell him he'd been rolling in the dirt with the hottest woman he'd ever come into contact with, but he doubted Skylar would see such praise as a compliment, any more than Chance would approve of their affair.

  Skylar's words echoed back in his mind.

  I am not some harlot you can throw to the ground whenever the mood strikes you.

  Hell He hadn't done a fine job of proving her wrong. He'd pulled her into the dirt with no thought of anything other than easing into her sweet body and fulfilling a mutual hunger that refused to stay sated.

  He didn't get it. Having had Skylar should have cooled his fire. But until Skylar, he'd never kissed a woman who made his blood roar in his ears and his heart thunder in his chest.

  Tucker collapsed onto his butt and propped his elbows on his raised knees as he raked his fingers roughly through his hair.

  What in the hell is wrong with me?

  She'd been right to try and push him away. He didn't have a sliver of control when she was in his arms. He couldn't go back to camp, not with Skylar stretched out in her bedroll, in plain view beneath the moonlit sky.

  He had to get a grip.

  Glaring at his reflection in the round shaving mirror he'd hung from the broken limb of a cottonwood tree, Tucker continued to silently berate himself for his behavior the night before. Skylar hadn't made eye contact with him once all morning, and he couldn't blame her one bit. He hadn't shown her an ounce of respect last night, damn near bedding her not fifty yards from camp, without regard of being caught by their brothers.

  A light breeze rustled the dry, copper leaves still clinging to the limbs of the old cottonwood as he dragged the straightedge razor across the last patch of shaving lather on his jaw. Hearing the leaf-crunching sound of approaching footsteps, Tucker angled his head as he looked in the mirror and saw Chance coming toward him.

  "Oh my God " Chance said in a low growl.

  Tucker glanced over his shoulder at his brother standing a few steps behind him.

  Chance's wide green eyes quickly narrowed. "You couldn't leave her alone, could you, Tuck?"

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Either you were mauled by a mountain cat, or you had a late-night tangle with a blue-eyed wildcat. I hope all those cat scratches were worth risking our ranch over."

  Tucker dropped his gaze to his bare chest. Hell He hadn't thought about the marks left by Skylar's short nails scoring across his back. Tucker plucked a small towel he'd tossed over a limb, swiped his razor across it before folding the blade up then swabbed the specks of shaving lather left on his face as his mind raced for some justification he could tell his brother.

  Coming up short, he took his shirt from the limb and shrugged it on as he turned to face Chance, not sure of what he could say in his own defense.

  "What's the matter, Tuck? Cat still got your tongue, or did she swallow it whole?"

  A flash of anger warmed his blood. "Drop it, Chance."

  "Damnation. I knew something had happened between you two when me and the kid came back from getting supplies." Chance shook his head. "But I figured you'd be crowing to the trees if you'd actually bedded her. And I didn't believe Skylar was a fast sort of woman."

  "She's not! She was..." The words lodged in his throat. Somehow, it didn't seem right to be discussing Skylar's lost virginity, not even with Chance. Judging by the anger in his brother's expression, that bit of information would explode his temper.

  "She was what?" Chance prodded.

  "Nothing. Just drop it." Tucker reached back, collected his mirror and dropped it into his shaving case. "What goes on between me and Skylar is none of your business," he said, preparing to walk past him.

  Chance's eyes flared with rage as he took a step forward, blocking his brother's retreat. "None of my business? Damn it, Tucker," he roared, shoving him hard in the chest.

  Tucker's back slammed against the tree. Dry leaves rained down on him as he regained his balance.

  "Have you forgotten about our ranch? I'm just as involved with that woman as you are! You agreed to keep your hands off her! If she gets her hooks into our land, she's likely to put us out of business!"

  "Skylar is no threat to our ranch!" Tucker shouted back.

  "I'm sure that's what the brain in your britches is telling you! Does Sky know you have no intentions of staying married to her?"

  "She knows," he said, annoyed by the pang of guilt his brother's condemning glare was causing in his chest. "She doesn't want to be married any more than I do."

  Chance didn't look convinced. "You sure about that? She doesn't seem the sort who'd take to being used, and you've all but sealed her claim on our land."

  "I'm not using her!"

  "The hell you're not."

  "What's your problem? You've bedded more than your share of decent woman. Were you using them?"

  "Yes. Just as much as they were using me, but I damn sure didn't leave them feeling used and defeated."

  Tucker's free hand fisted at his side. "Neither am I. I haven't forced myself on her."

  "Right," Chance said, folding his arms across his chest. "I'm sure she came on to you all hot and heavy and you did your best to fight off her advances. Is that how it happened, Tuck?"

  Watching anger narrow Tucker's eyes, Chance figured that wasn't how it happened at all; and mindfully widened his stance, seeing that his
twin was a breath away from throwing a punch.

  If throwing a few punches was what it took to pound some sense into Tucker's thick skull, he was willing to take his share of bruises to oblige him. "Just how do you think Sky's gonna feel when we arrive in Wyoming and show her the contract I signed with her father, proving she doesn't own a single blade of grass on our land? Your little affair will only be adding insult to injury. This may be a game to you, Tuck, but you better remember she's on the losing end. I've worked with that woman too long to underestimate her. You think Winifred pulled a number on our pa? Well she didn't have an ounce of Sky's tact and skill."

  Tucker opened his mouth to respond, then snapped it shut, his anger lost in the deep concentration Chance now saw in his eyes. Seemed he'd given his little brother something to think about, other than the ache in his crotch.

  He reached out and grabbed the shaving supplies from Tucker's hand. "Unless you plan on taking a shine to married life, I suggest you concentrate on getting your horses to Wyoming and keeping your fly buttoned up."

  Tucker shot Chance a hard look as his twin turned on his heel and walked away. It was just like Chance to rake his conscience over hot coals!

  He waited until Chance was gone from his view before slowly starting back toward camp. With every dragging footstep his conscience told him he should feel guilty for breaking his word to his brother.

  As he neared camp, he spotted Skylar sitting on her knees by the extinguished campfire. Watching her lithe movements, her silky blond hair hanging in her face as she loaded the rest of her cooking supplies into a canvas sack, he couldn't muster the guilt. Given the chance to love Skylar a hundred times over, his response would be the same. He couldn't regret what they'd shared, but his brother's words had him wondering if Skylar felt the same.

  She'd been the one who plainly stated she still wanted the annulment. Why should he believe any differently? He hadn't used Skylar. She'd given herself freely and had enjoyed every damn bit of their time together. If anything, he'd given her a reason to smile and laugh, something she'd done more of in the few hours they'd spent together than she'd done in the past weeks combined.