Scoundrel

by Rebecca Goings

  While he tossed his shirt across the room, she caressed his skin. He looked rough, but he was soft as she explored him, up his belly, through his masculine hair, finding his nipples and rubbing them.

  Her mouth watered. She looked back up at him and saw for herself the icy twin flames in his blue eyes.

  “Might as well keep on goin’, filly,” he whispered, his hot breath scorching her cheek.

  Holding his gaze, she lowered her hands until they rested on the buttons of his denims. He hadn’t worn his guns. Unfastening his trousers was easier than she thought it would be. The buttons fairly popped open, probably due to the long, stiff cock pressing against them.

  Deciding to give him some of the torture he’d given her, she rounded his ass, urging his denims from his hips. But the moment his undergarments were down his thighs, she brought her hands to the front of him and boldly took his cock in her palm.

  Luke gasped and hid his face in the crook of her neck. “Christ!” he exclaimed, pushing himself farther into her hand.

  “You like this?” she asked demurely, squeezing him. He did nothing but nod and thrust. She shocked herself by saying, “Answer me.”

  Luke lifted his head and gave her a dark scowl. “You think you’re in control, Shirley?”

  The way he breathed her name had her wishing she were naked with him. It sent chills down her spine and she desperately wished for his fingers to delve long her wet heat. “I just want to hear you say it.”

  “Oh, I like it,” he confessed, thrusting again. “But I want my cock deep inside your pussy when I come, filly.”

  “Luke,” she said, gasping. “I want that, too. I want you to touch me.”

  “Where?”

  “I want…I want…” she thrust her hips, trying to get him to understand. He chuckled. Luke understood, all right. But he was going to hear her tell him before he did a damn thing.

  “Say it. You know the rules.” His deep voice sent a wave of desire across her skin. She couldn’t take it anymore.

  “Touch my pussy, like you did last night. I want your hand—your fingers…”

  “My cock?” he said wickedly.

  She nodded. “Your cock.”

  Without bothering to undress her, he bunched up her skirts and petticoats until his hand reached her drawers. She lifted herself, thinking he’d pull them down, but he didn’t. He merely dove his hand inside and attacked her clit, circling and teasing.

  Shirley cried out at the unexpected crash of pleasure that overcame her almost instantly. She was coming, and he’d barely gotten started. But she didn’t want him to stop. Hooking her leg over his, she thrust her hips, following his hand when his fingers disappeared inside of her.

  Now Luke tore her drawers down her legs, but he didn’t wait for her to pull both of her ankles out before nestling between her thighs.

  “I’m not naked,” she said lamely, her mind in a fog.

  “I don’t care,” he replied. “Right now, I wanna fuck you, Shirley Austin, so hang on tight.”

  Before her pleasure had completely passed, before she’d even understood his words, Luke plunged into her, slapping his skin against hers almost brutally. The bed shook and she bounced with his rhythm, but she followed him, unable to stop from whimpering each time he was fully sheathed.

  His hips rolled and he grunted as well, exciting her more than she ever thought possible. Again, again, and again he pounded her, making her wonder if he meant for her to come once more, as her desire crested. Watching his face twist with pleasure had her demanding a fiery kiss while a new, more powerful orgasm swept her away on the tide of his passion.

  Her shouts were swallowed by his mouth before he finally slowed his thrusts and pressed deep, keeping their bodies connected. When he pulled away from her lips, they were both panting, and she tucked his hair behind his ear.

  “Enjoy yourself?” he asked, giving her a grin of satisfaction.

  “Yes,” she answered. “Good Lord!”

  He chuckled. “Now you know the difference.”

  “Between what?”

  “Between makin’ love and pure fuckin’.”

  Shirley gasped and smacked his shoulder. “That’s a horrible word! You shouldn’t say it.”

  He cocked his head. The look he gave her made her groan. He’d just taken her words as a challenge. “One of these days, you’re gonna say it to me, sweetheart.”

  Her eyes widened with trepidation. With a kiss to her nose, Luke withdrew and began working at her buttons. “For now, we’re gonna get some sleep. It’s been a long day.”

  She was too mortified to reply. He’d just declared she’d say the vilest thing in the world to him. Luke never backed down from a challenge. As sure as the sun would rise tomorrow, she’d tell him what he wanted to hear.

  She swallowed hard and helped him with her corset.

  He lay back on the thin pillow and brought her with him. The beds weren’t very comfortable, but pushed together, they held them both.

  “Cozy?” he asked, his voice suddenly full of fatigue.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  He held her tight until she finally drifted off.

  Seventeen

  A few days later, Shirley’s father wasn’t feeling well. He opted to stay in his bed for a spell while she took care of opening the shop. Luke had to check on his horse at the livery stable and make sure all his dues were paid, which left her alone for a little while. She checked the shelves and made sure everything was in its place.

  It was quiet. Almost too quiet for a Saturday morning. Most folks she knew stocked up their pantry on Saturdays. It had been one of their busiest days in the past. But glancing out the window, she saw a lot more wagons and horses tied in front of the mercantile. Perhaps her scandalous marriage to Luke had scared off what little customers they had.

  The entire Gulch had to be buzzing with gossip by now.

  She almost wished they wouldn’t have a customer, just so she didn’t have to come face to face with their judgment. But regardless, she had to keep the shop neat and tidy. With a damp rag, she wiped down the rear counter and a few of the shelves, humming as she went. The loud tinkling of the bell on the door made her jump and shriek in spite of herself.

  Glancing up, she saw the unmistakable white head of Doctor Newcomb. “Why, Shirley Bloom!” he exclaimed. “I came by to see how you were doing only to find you up and about. I take it your ankle doesn’t bother you any longer?”

  She smiled at him. “My name is Austin now,” she corrected. “I’m married. To Luke.”

  Timothy nodded as if he’d forgotten. “Yes, yes. I’ve been meaning to ask you about that, too.”

  Shirley took a deep breath and continued her task, wiping each shelf until it gleamed. “My ankle is just fine,” she assured him. “It only gives me a twinge on the stairs.”

  “Take care on those steps,” he told her, wagging his finger in front of her. “You could take a tumble.”

  She gave him a small smile and moved away, hoping he wouldn’t ask about her wedding. But she wasn’t so fortunate.

  “Uh, Mrs. Austin, my nephew is quite heartbroken to learn of your marriage to that cowboy of yours.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” she said, avoiding his gaze. “Considering he hasn’t known me long, I’m sure he’ll be able to move on.”

  “He wanted me to ask you if…” Timothy coughed behind his hand. He looked uncomfortable. Or embarrassed. Or both.

  “Yes?” she prodded.

  “Nathaniel wanted to know if you were…forced…to marry Mr. Austin?”

  Shirley spun on her heel and planted her hands on her hips. “I beg your pardon, Doctor Newcomb, but that is none of his concern.”

  “He asked if you might consider a…a divorce if that were the case. He’s quite taken with you, and wouldn’t look down on you for divorcing Luke. And he’d marry you to preserve your good name.”

  Shirley was taken aback. She opened her mouth to retort, but Luke himself
interrupted her.

  “You tell that son of a bitch Shirley’s my wife. I don’t intend to share!”

  Her jaw dropped. She hadn’t heard him come in—he must have made his way through the back door. Doctor Newcomb sputtered while his face glowed red.

  “No, on second thought, don’t tell him,” Luke said, his voice low and menacing. “I’ll go tell him myself.”

  He turned to leave, but Shirley jumped and caught him by the elbow. “Where are you going?”

  “To tell that bastard from Boston you’ll never be his.”

  “Don’t,” she pleaded. Luke’s eyes betrayed his seething anger. He was a jealous man, all right. And he wasn’t ashamed to stake his claim. “Timothy can tell him just as well as you can.”

  Luke scoffed. “My way gets right to the point.”

  “I’m sure that it does,” she said, nodding. “But you and I both know you’re fixing to beat him senseless.”

  “What?” They both ignored Doctor Newcomb.

  “And what’s wrong with that?” Luke replied.

  “Marcus will get involved,” she told him, trying to talk him down. “And we don’t need any more fodder for gossip. Luke, please let it slide.”

  His eyes shot sparks. “He’s tryin’ to get you to divorce me so you can run away with him!”

  “You think I’m gonna?” she challenged.

  Luke cocked his jaw and gave her a pointed stare. His silence hit her square in the chest. She lowered her eyes, aware of his quiet reminder that she had run away. Once.

  “He’s scared of you,” she told him, in an effort to ease the sudden tension between them.

  “I know.”

  “Please? Let it slide.”

  Luke gazed into her eyes for a good, long time. He still stared hard at her while he spoke to Timothy. “Go and tell Nathaniel if I ever hear him makin’ that proposition to my wife again, I won’t be so forgiving.”

  Shirley shuddered, remembering those very same words he’d spoken to her not too long ago. She had to wonder what he was like when he unleashed his anger.

  Without a word, Timothy dashed out of the shop, leaving nothing but the sound of the bell in his wake.

  Luke didn’t move. He continued to stare at her, as if Doctor Newcomb’s proposition had been her idea. He narrowed his eyes.

  “Not too long ago, you wanted to marry Nathaniel,” he reminded her, his voice low. “You told me you couldn’t be courting him and meeting me in the moonlight.”

  Shirley nodded, unsure of how to handle him. She’d never truly seen Luke’s rage, and despite his promise that he would never lay his hand on her in anger, it didn’t mean he wasn’t ready for battle. “Th-things have changed since then,” she said, trembling. “You’re my husband now, not him.”

  “You didn’t want me to be.”

  “You never asked.”

  “Would you have married me if I had asked?”

  “I…don’t know. If you had courted me—”

  He scoffed, interrupting her. When he didn’t say anything, she continued.

  “If you had courted me,” she repeated, “I would have gotten to know you. You might be the crudest man I know, but…”

  “But what?” he said sourly, placing his hands on his hips.

  “You’re the only man who understands me,” she confessed. She turned away and walked to the counter. Placing her hands on it, she studied the wood she polished every day. “You’re the only man who’s ever made me feel such…amazing things.”

  “You wanted a fancy husband,” he replied, his tone gentler. She heard his boots cross the floor behind her. “You wanted a rich man who could give you lovely dresses and a comfortable life.”

  “I thought I knew what I wanted,” she said, finding her courage and glancing at him over her shoulder. “Then I met you.”

  Luke closed his eyes and bowed his head with a sigh. Shirley wondered at his demeanor. She turned and caressed his cheek with her palm. He opened his eyes and held her gaze.

  “What did you want, Luke?” she asked gently. “Before you married me?”

  He swallowed hard. “I wanted to buy my own land and work it. Maybe raise a few horses. Some cattle. Been saving some toward that goal. But I wanted to sow my oats—before I found a wife.”

  Shirley blanched. She’d been nothing more than ‘fun’ to him. That knowledge stunned her. Without thinking, she dropped her hand and stepped back. “Seems we both lost out on…opportunities.”

  Luke opened his mouth, but the bell rang on the door. He stepped away and scratched his head, as if he didn’t know what to do with himself. Shirley made her way to the customer with a fake smile pasted on her face. But her smile slowly faded.

  It was Lissa.

  Eighteen

  “Hello, Shirley,” Lissa said, rubbing her round belly. “How are you?”

  Shirley cleared her throat and took a deep breath, deciding to be upfront with her sister. “I’m married.”

  Lissa nodded. “Marcus told me.”

  “I’ll just bet he did,” Luke replied, ambling up to them with his thumbs in his pockets. He narrowed his eyes. “What exactly did he tell you?”

  “Enough,” Lissa said, glancing between them.

  “What do you want, Lissa?” Shirley asked, her voice icy.

  “I came to apologize. For my husband’s behavior yesterday. He had no right to punch Luke.”

  “Oh, he had every right after what I did to his sister-in-law,” he told her. “What he didn’t have the right to do was judge me for it. Bastard did a lot worse than me in his time.”

  Lissa’s face turned a bright scarlet at Luke’s pointed stare. “Yes, well—”

  Shirley interrupted her. “We don’t accept your apology.” Both Lissa and Luke glanced sharply at her. But she stood her ground. “First of all, Marcus can damn well apologize for himself,” she declared. “And secondly, if you’re only here to apologize for his behavior toward Luke, then we don’t accept. He…he said some very horrid and ugly things about me. Things I don’t wish to repeat.”

  “Shirley…” Lissa began.

  She held up her hand. “Did he ask you apologize for that, too?”

  “He doesn’t know I’m here.”

  Luke shook his head while Shirley set her jaw. Lissa had always believed she was a spoiled brat. After she’d married Marcus, their bond as sisters had grown stronger, or so Shirley thought. But the stories Luke said he’d heard from the both of them hurt her more than she thought they’d had. That pain was only compounded by Marcus’s words the day before.

  She was about to take her sister to task for it, but a thought suddenly struck her. Of Luke telling her she could change her ways if she ever wanted to be seen as someone other than selfish, spoiled Shirley. Silence descended upon the shop and she licked her lips nervously.

  Perhaps now it was time to change her ways.

  She closed her eyes and bowed her head. “All right,” she whispered. “He is forgiven. You can tell him I said so.”

  Without waiting for Lissa’s reply, Shirley turned and walked away. She needed to check on her father anyhow. And right about now, she couldn’t bear to witness the shock that must be written all over her sister’s face.

  Swallowing her pride was one of the hardest things she ever had to do.

  ~ * ~

  Luke shrugged when Lissa’s wide eyes met his. “What just happened?” she asked.

  “She forgave Marcus,” he replied.

  “But…that’s not like her.”

  “I reckon she’s trying to change,” Luke said. “She resents the fact everyone sees her as a selfish shrew.”

  He watched as Lissa absently rubbed her belly and chewed on her bottom lip. He wondered what Shirley might look like, round with his child, and a sudden, unfamiliar feeling filled his heart. He couldn’t tell if it was anticipation or trepidation. He ran his fingers through his hair and swallowed hard in an effort to dislodge the sudden lump in his throat.

  “
Perhaps she’s finally growing up,” Lissa offered, looking toward the stairs.

  “Make no mistake,” he told her. “Your sister is all woman.”

  “Why her?” she asked, turning back to him. “Out of all the women in the Gulch, why did you involve yourself with her?”

  “Shirley is misunderstood. She has dreams. She’s passionate. Considerate.”

  Lissa arched a brow. “My sister? Considerate?”

  Luke had to take a deep breath to keep from saying something he might regret. His wife was unpredictable, that was for sure, but she’d been given a bad name by her family and friends. No wonder it cut her to the quick.

  “She takes care of your pa,” Luke reminded her. “She runs this shop, sometimes on her own. She even went to your dinner party when all she wanted to do was hide from the world after Christopher rejected her. She didn’t want to disappoint you, Lissa. And she married me so I wouldn’t have to go to jail for disgracing her. She’s more considerate than anyone gives her credit for. And the fact she just forgave Marcus when she itched to give you what for is proof of that.”

  Lissa placed her hand on his arm. “You’re a good man, Luke. No wonder she’s so taken with you. You can see what no one else can.”

  “That might be,” he said, lowering his voice. “But if Marcus says another nasty thing about her, he’s gonna find my fist in his face. You can tell him I said so.”

  Lissa visibly trembled, then nodded before she said her goodbyes. The bell on the door rang loudly in the empty shop.

  Luke sighed and glanced at the stairs. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the tender feelings swirling through his gut. The last time he fell for a woman, she laughed in his face and told him she belonged to another man. But Shirley obviously belonged to him. She was his wife, after all. Most men had feelings for their wives, didn’t they?

  Scowling, he rolled up his sleeves and got to work.

  ~ * ~

  Shirley’s father finally felt well enough to emerge from his room to eat with them that evening. Chuck’s hair was all askew and he walked slower than usual, but he made it to the table to be served. Shirley had barely said another word to Luke after their conversation that afternoon, but she wasn’t complaining. The last thing she wanted to do was relive it. She didn’t want to hear about how he didn’t care for her. She didn’t want to know how much he regretted their late-night tryst, which had led to their marriage.