“That’s it, darlin’,” he urged. “Ride my cock while I smack your naughty behind.”
With each slap, she moved forward before slowly sinking back. They soon settled into a rhythm of resounding smacks and long, breathless groans. It felt so good, he lost count, stopping when his palm was fiery hot and tingling. He grabbed her hips, gliding her up and down faster on his rigid shaft. With the heels of his hands, he spread her globes wide and enjoyed the sight, sound, and feel of every glide of his hard flesh into her warm, welcoming softness.
He still wanted to take and to give her more. Slipping one thumb lower, he collected some of the honey that covered his shaft and spread it over the tightly puckered hole that teased him with each pump of her hips. He pressed into her slowly, listening as her breath hitched audibly, smiling when she didn’t slow her erotic ride.
She was an adventurous little thing, in more ways than one. Bold as brass with a gun in her hand, and openly daring in the bedroom. He liked both a lot, the latter more than the former for his peace of mind, but he couldn’t deny her bravado. Going deeper, he explored her response to this new aspect of their passion. When he was in up to his second knuckle, she sat up, throwing her head back, both hands coming up to caress her own juddering breasts.
“Do you like that, baby? My cock stretching and filling your snug pussy while my thumb is buried inside your tight bottom?”
She didn’t speak, her long, throaty groan saying it all for her.
His free hand wrapped around her hip, urging her to move faster while thrusting his hips upward to meet the incredible glide of her intense heat. “Pinch your nipples and come for me. I’m not going to last more than another minute.”
Turning his head, he caught her reflection in the vanity mirror, ready to explode at the sight of her delicate fingers pinching and tugging on her hard nipples as she bounced up and down on his cock.
Gasping in sweet agony, her head fell back as her body convulsed around him. This sent him over the top and he too found his peak, crying out his passion as he exploded in a heated release deep inside her.
He sat up, pulling her back against his chest. With his hand wrapped around her chin, he brought her head around, his lips meeting hers. Sparks flew between them as he took her mouth in a searing kiss.
“I think I was adopted,” he murmured into her hair a long time later.
She twisted in his arms, a soft smile gracing her lips. “Impossible. You can’t deny a single one of them. Why would you say that?”
“Because I didn’t get the stern disciplinarian trait, like the other men in the family.”
“My bottom is sufficiently hot and tender to disprove that theory.” She pushed up on an elbow and gaped down at him with incredulity. “Hold up. Are you saying Aaron spanks Janelle?”
“Yep.”
“And Heath does the same with Jenny?”
“Probably not the same, Aaron can be hard as nails, although Heath has his moments.”
“And your parents?”
“Please,” he grimaced. “I prefer not to think of them that way. All I can say is as boys we learned at the feet of a master, or should I say at the end of his strap. He didn’t let us get away with much. Believe me.”
“Henry can be gruff and stern, but I can tell underneath it all he’s really the opposite. And he loves all of you dearly. He’s gentle with Micah and dotes upon him so.”
“I believe he has mellowed in his old age. Besides, he can love and cuddle a grandson, leaving the discipline up to the parents.”
“I can’t imagine Micah ever doing anything that would require a punishment. I won’t consider it.”
“Maybe not today. Wait until he jumps off the high bank into the swift water of Silverbend Creek, or runs your new buggy into a ditch.”
“Who did that? Heath? No, it was Aaron.”
“They had their fair share of misdeeds, but I was the miscreant who pa says gave him gray hair.”
“Oh, no!”
“What’s wrong?”
“My father always said the sins of the father are revisited on the son. That’s it. He’s confined to the house until he’s thirty.”
Chuckling at that, he pulled her down until she rested once more across his chest. “He’s a boy, darlin’, he’ll get into mischief and cause mayhem. It’s up to us to show him right from wrong and rein him in when he gets too wild.”
“A mischief maker, you’ve said the same about me. What if your sins are revisited on Micah? Or mine? We’re doomed.”
“We’ll face it together. He’ll be fine, and so will we.”
“I’m not so sure.”
“I am. Because we both love him and he’ll know it every day of his life.”
Her head tilted back as her hand came to rest on the scruff of his jaw. Her soft voice shook with raw emotion. “Oh, Luke. At first, I thought you might not accept him.”
“He was a surprise, Wisteria, one that almost took me out at the knees, but never would I have denied him as my own. I couldn’t if I tried because the minute I gazed into his big brown eyes, the same ones I see staring back from my shaving mirror every day, I knew I loved him.”
“Thanks be.”
“As I said, darlin’, he’ll be raised with love and will be just fine.”
She snuggled into his arms. “With you as his daddy, honey, I can’t help but believe it.”
Chapter Sixteen
The dog days of summer were upon them, which brought soaring temperatures, though in the high plains of southeastern Wyoming, resting in the foothills of the Medicine Bow mountain range, never did it get so hot as to be truly unbearable. Still, seeking out the breezes that always seemed to zip out off to the west, Wisteria often sought the coolness of the shaded front porch on the hotter days or when she had the coal stove in use. Luke had obtained a second crib, which he set up on the porch so that Micah could nap comfortably within sight of his mama on those days.
Their lives had taken on a predictability of sorts, which suited Wisteria fine, feeling a true sense of contentment for the first time in her life. She and Luke were growing closer, and she hoped one day soon, instead of him simply caring for her, he would admit to stronger emotions. If that didn’t happen, she’d learn to be satisfied with the desire that burned hotly each night and the affection that warmed her by day. Still, she longed for the day that he might say he loved her.
The Jacksons also provided something she’d never had before: a cohesive family. They were good, kind, honest people and had welcomed her into the fold. She enjoyed having women her own age to spend time with and confide in, and having them turn to her for advice as they went through the early months of their pregnancy. Letty was maternal and nurturing, offering motherly guidance and support that she’d never experienced before. She felt surrounded by their warmth and this was extended twofold to her cherished son.
The family was close, the men working together in a spirited camaraderie that never ceased to surprise her. They joked and teased, often rather roughly. It was done in a good-natured way, though it puzzled the women who didn’t consider a bone-jarring slap on the back or a ribald comment as harmonious, but it was their way. On Sundays, the family always gathered at the main house for one of Letty’s belt-loosening meals. Having her growing family at her table always thrilled her to no end too.
On one of those Sundays, Letty got a break when they headed into town to Janelle and Aaron’s place for what their hostess called a Mexican fiesta. When the invitation was extended, she claimed to have a hankering for tacos and guacamole for some time. Neither fare was familiar, but according to Janelle was ‘to die for.’ She’d also been excited about trying out some of the herbs and peppers she’d grown from seeds Doc Morgan had brought back from his travels to Mexico. Having heard Henry and the brothers go on about Janelle’s epicurean adventures, when Luke saddled Track and Shasta, and with Micah settled snugly on his daddy’s lap as they all rode into town, Wisteria was excited to taste the new fare for
herself.
A mouthwatering aroma of beef and spices greeted them as they walked into Aaron and Janelle’s east end home in late afternoon. Janelle popped her head out of the kitchen door. When she saw them, she began barking orders like an army general.
“Excellent, new recruits. Everyone else is here. Men in the parlor on baby detail. Women in the kitchen on the double. I need all hands on deck if I’m going to get this dinner on the table by the end of this century.”
Wisteria and Luke glanced at each other and grinned. They’d discussed on the ride into town that Aaron’s wife possessed a unique mixture of intelligence, an adventurous spirit, and a nurturing soul. Underscoring it all was a wicked sense of humor. Something that kept her straight-laced, often stern lawman husband on his toes. She used odd words, did even odder things, and made some of the most bizarre dishes that any of them had ever consumed. This was Wisteria’s initiation and Luke had told her to be prepared for anything.
“She’s not joking.” Aaron said from the doorway leading to the parlor. “Be warned. You’ve entered a madhouse. If you’re smart, you’ll run.”
“Aaron!” Janelle’s cry of protest echoed down the hall from the kitchen. “Don’t tell them that.”
He grinned while shaking his head. “The woman has astounding hearing.” He waved Wisteria down the hall, while taking his nephew into the safety of the parlor with the other men. On his way, he paused once to toss him up in the air, as all the Jackson men did. From the sound of Micah’s laughing, it was obvious that Jackson babies didn’t mind in the least.
As Wisteria started toward the noisy kitchen, Luke grabbed her by the bustle and towed her back.
“Is something wrong?” she asked as she turned back.
“I need a kiss before you go off on your dangerous mission.”
Giggling, she rose on her tiptoes and wound her arms around his neck. “Better make it a good one, there’s no telling what perils I’ll face once I venture into the madwoman’s kitchen.” Savoring the strength of his arms as they came around her, she leaned into him and angled her face up to his. Although close enough for their breath to mingle, she was still shy of her goal. Impatient for him to bend and join their lips, she urged in a hushed whisper, “Kiss me, Luke, it’s not often one of us doesn’t have a baby in our arms and I’m happy to take advantage of it.”
Not one to pass up an opportunity either, he dipped his head and traced the full softness of her lips with his tongue. His hand cupped the back of her head and tilted it just so when a sharp exclamation had them jumping apart.
“Kissing! There’s no time for kissing,” Janelle declared from behind them. “We have chips to fry, veggies to dice, and avocados to mash. Chop, chop, Wisteria, and I mean that quite literally. You two can suck face on your own time.” She then disappeared back in the kitchen.
They both stared after her dumbfounded, despite Aaron’s warning. “I better go. She seems a bit frazzled.”
“Psychotic was the word I had in mind,” Luke replied, with a shake of his head.
“I heard that, Luke Jackson.”
Wisteria huffed a little laugh. “Aaron was right; her hearing is uncanny.”
“We’ll suck face after dinner. I’m guessing at the meaning of that and want to explore the technique in detail.” He touched his lips to hers once more, which led to another series of deep, shivery kisses. Reluctantly, he pulled away. “You better go,” he whispered, “before my nutty sister-in-law comes looking for you.”
He released her and went to join his son, brothers, and father in the front room.
She stood looking after him for a moment, thoroughly dazed and extremely conscious of his virile appeal and the state of her jolting heart pounding rapidly in the wake of his ardent kisses. On rubbery legs, she walked dreamily into the kitchen.
The three women’s smiling faces tipped up to greet her.
“Uh oh,” Jenny declared. “I recognize that look. She’s been barraged by Jackson kisses. Don’t give her a knife, Janelle. In her befuddled state, she’ll chop off a fingertip and you’ll spend the rest of the afternoon doctoring, not cooking.”
Letty smiled indulgently as she resumed her chopping.
Janelle walked forward with a fork and a bowl full of peeled green orbs. “Your job is to mash the avocados without jabbing yourself with the tines. Have you enough wits left to do that or did Luke suck them out of you with that epic French kiss in the foyer?”
“French kiss?”
“Also known as sucking face,” Jenny informed, a pretty blush tinting her cheeks pink. “You know, when he sticks his tongue down your throat.”
“Girls!” Letty protested. “You’ll recall I’m his mother.”
Jenny blanched. “Oh, dear, Letty. Sometimes my mouth simply forgets.”
Janelle grinned, handing over the bowl and fork. “Mind the pit,” she warned. “I can’t wait. I haven’t had guacamole in over two years. You are all going to go crazy for it.”
Sitting beside Jenny, who was dicing tomatoes, they both peered into the bowl, grimacing as the fork mashed the funny green vegetable into a thick, disgusting paste.
“Uh, we’ll take your word for it,” Wisteria said skeptically.
Janelle was holding a butcher knife as she spun around, her gaze falling to the unappetizing green mess in the bowl. She simply shrugged. “Mexican food might look like the dog’s dinner, but when the spicy guac and salsa hit your taste buds, you’ll be begging me to make this a regular event. Mark my words.”
Jenny nudged her with an elbow. “Don’t argue with the scary woman wielding the big knife, Wisteria. It’s better to go along with her.”
“And safer,” Letty chimed in.
“Hey! How did I get such a bad rep?”
“You can be a bit bossy, dear,” Letty offered gently.
“Or it could be the way you say ‘chop, chop’ like an army sergeant,” Jenny giggled.
“I think it may have something to do with your strange phrasing, like ‘sucking face,’ and ‘radar,’ and ‘bad rep.’ You have us all so confused we’re afraid not to comply.” Wisteria said this in such a deadpan manner, they both looked at her blankly. “Then again, it could be the immense knife in your hand.”
Jenny giggled and Letty snorted, bursting into great gales of laughter when Janelle replied, “Well, shave my tongue and call me a smooth talker, I had no idea I was such a hardass.”
“See! That’s exactly what I mean.” Wisteria accused while raising her fork in the air for emphasis. Unfortunately, a plop of green gunk flew off the end and landed square in the middle of Janelle’s apron.
Janelle stared down at her chest in stupefied amazement before she burst out into a deep belly laugh. The other three women lost their composure and joined her, until they were all gasping for breath and holding their middles while tears rolled unchecked down their cheeks. And none of it could be blamed on the onions.
* * *
Luke settled onto the long settee beside his two brothers, watching as Micah, who had recently started pulling up, teetered around the room from one spot to the next by holding onto furniture, drapes, adults’ legs, or whatever he could find that seemed stable enough to move from point A to point B. If he let go, his chubby little legs would wobble for a moment and soon give way, sending him plopping almost immediately to the floor on his diaper-clad behind. With the renowned Jackson stubbornness already, he didn’t give up and would be up immediately resuming his unending explorations.
His pa, who had been watching him too, predicted sagely, “He’ll be taking his first steps any day now and your lives will change forever.”
“That’s what Wisteria and I are afraid of.”
Micah, who had fallen on his butt by his grandpa’s chair, crawled to the far end of the couch where Heath was seated. With his chubby hands on the big man’s knees, he cocked his head to the side, studying his eldest and currently beard-wearing uncle as if finding him familiar. Then he babbled nonsensically and mov
ed on. This brought him to Aaron. At first, he stared at him and squealed excitedly, slapping his little hands on his uncle’s boot where it was crossed over his other knee. He bounced up and down on his little legs, balancing precariously as he repeated, “Ba-ba-da-da.”
“Did you hear that?” Luke demanded, sitting forward, which caught the baby’s attention. His brow wrinkled in a ponderous frown. It switched back to his uncle Aaron as he spoke.
“I heard. It sounded like blah, blah, blah to me.”
The baby’s lower lip stuck out in a cute, confused little pout. He squealed loudly, making everyone jump, as he smacked his hands down almost angrily on Aaron’s leather boot.
“I distinctly heard him say da-da,” Luke insisted.
His boy turned his way, staring up at his father in confusion as if trying to figure something out. Luke perused his two brothers who sat next to him on the couch and clued into the problem. Leaning forward, he asked softly, “What is it, son? Can’t tell which Jackson brother is which?”
Instant recognition lit up Micah’s face. With a delighted grin, he laughed, waving his arms jerkily until he promptly lost his balance and fell with a thump on his padded behind. This time, he let out a cry of outrage. Laughing, his daddy lifted him, supporting him in a standing position on his thighs. Micah’s high-pitched shriek had them all rearing back as he launched himself into his father’s face, giving him an opened-mouth kiss on the jaw.
“Ba-ba, da-da!” the baby jabbered decisively.
“See?” Luke’s scrutiny passed over them all. Each man looked at him either with amusement, or as though he’d cracked his nut.
“I heard it, son.” Henry said at last with an indulgent nod. “That time he definitely said ‘blah, blah, blah, blah.’”
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