Sullivan (The Rock Creek Six Book 2)

by Linda Winstead Jones

  After placing Eden on her feet near the foot of the bed, he lit a lamp. He’d waited too long for this; he wasn’t going to fumble around in the dark. He wanted to see Eden, to see her body revealed as she took off her clothing, to look into her eyes when he sank into her.

  She wasn’t laughing anymore, but her smile was full of joy, the expression on her face seductive, and shy, and inviting. “What now?” she whispered.

  He went to her, towered above her and laid his hands on her shoulders. “I’m not going to tell you this time,” he answered. “I’m going to show you.”

  She shivered as he ran his hands down her arms, lifted her face to ask for a kiss he gladly gave her.

  As much as he wanted to have her, as much as he ached, he wanted to make this last. There would only be one first time, only one.

  He took the pins from her hair and let it down, running his fingers through silky strands that fell halfway down her back. The fair strands were shiny and thick and only slightly wavy. When they’d been traveling he’d watched Eden brush her hair and then twist it back up again, but he’d never seen her like this, with those golden strands down around her shoulders and falling down her back, loose, soft, as she stared up at him and waited.

  The buttons of her blouse slipped through his fingers, and the simple cotton parted for him, revealing inch after inch of perfect flesh. When he’d gone as far as he could, he lifted the blouse from the waistband of her skirt and pulled it over her head. Beneath it she wore a low-cut chemise, lace and a pink silk ribbon decorating the valley between her breasts. Her body was as beautiful as he’d imagined, soft and creamy pale, flawless in every curve. The tempting swell of her breasts rose with every breath she took. He trailed his fingers over the rising flesh before untying the pink ribbon and unbuttoning more buttons to bare her torso.

  He laid his mouth over her coral pink nipple, tasting her gently, barely sucking her flesh into his mouth. Holding her tight, he savored the scent and feel of her, the way she touched his hair and sighed. He suckled her harder, drawing the nipple deep into his mouth, and she shuddered and held on tight, her breath coming fast and hard.

  Her calico skirt followed the chemise, pooling on the floor. Her petticoat dropped next. He rolled her stockings down, resting on his haunches while he took his time with the chore, kissing her bare knees and slipping her shoes off, then tossing them aside.

  All that was left was a pair of loose, flimsy drawers, as lacy and fancy as the chemise. He untied the tapes and let the last remaining garment fall to the floor.

  He’d dreamed of seeing Eden this way since the moment he’d met her. Naked, vulnerable, perfection. His. Her body curved softly, and he reached out to trail his fingers over every curve. To cup her breasts and run his hands over her hips. To trail his fingers up her thighs to her mound.

  She jumped, startled, when he touched her there. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered as he parted her thighs and touched her intimately, stroking her wet flesh.

  She didn’t wait for him to take his own clothes off; she impatiently began the task for him. She unbuttoned his shirt and untucked it, forcing it higher, her hands on his skin, until he grabbed the shirt and shucked it over his head. He kicked off his boots as Eden unbuckled his belt and unfastened his jeans, one button at a time passing slowly through her fingers. She wrapped her arms around him and slipped her fingers into the waistband of his trousers. Those hands boldly moved lower to cup his buttocks and force down the trousers.

  When he’d kicked the denims aside, Eden moved back, a single step, to look him over. “You’re beautiful, too,” she whispered. Her eyes landed and lingered on his arousal, and a new expression was added to the face he knew so well—skepticism. “But really, Sin, are you sure this is going to work? I mean... It’s bigger than I thought.”

  “Trust me,” he said, taking her into his arms and lowering her to the bed.

  She placed her arms around his neck. “I do. Trust you, that is. And love you,” she added with a smile. “And I want you,” she whispered, laying her mouth over his and kissing him with soft, slightly parted lips.

  It pained him to wait, but he wanted to give Eden all he had promised in the tub. He kissed her breasts, taking a nipple into his mouth and suckling until she moaned, then moving his attention to the other breast. He kissed the tender flesh of her inner elbow, flicking his tongue there when she sighed deeply and buried the fingers of her other hand in his hair. He kissed her flat belly and felt her quiver.

  When he parted her legs and touched her intimately, she tensed, and then almost immediately she relaxed, her eyes drifting peacefully shut. She truly did trust him, with her body and her heart. She literally placed herself in his hands and trusted him to take care of her. He stroked her wetness gently, slipped a finger inside her, and felt her quiver.

  He hovered above her, and her legs spread wider for him. The tip of his arousal touched her, and she rocked gently up. Against him, into him.

  With slow deliberation, he entered her. She was so tight, so small, he was afraid he might hurt her if he moved any faster. But she didn’t seem to be in pain as he gradually stretched her, rocking gently back and forth until he met and broke through her maidenhead.

  Her only response was a small uttered “oh” and a mild twitch. She opened her eyes and looked at him, licked her lips and clasped her hands behind his neck. She lifted her hips again, rocking against him, urging him deeper. She cocked one leg and rested it over his.

  With a moan and a push he filled her completely. Without hesitation she met his thrust, lifting her other leg over his, holding him tight. She kissed him deeply, her tongue mimicking the pace and motion of his length within her as they fell into a rhythmic, intimate dance.

  She gasped, and still she did not take her mouth from his. Her body shuddered, and he felt the milking caress of her inner muscles around his shaft as she quickly climaxed.

  He drove deep within her one more time, finding his own completion as her body tightened around him. Losing control, well beyond all control, he pumped his seed into her and groaned against her hungry mouth.

  And then he collapsed against her, cradled her, spent and breathless.

  “Oh, my,” Eden breathed a few minutes later.

  Sullivan could only murmur a response. He was drained.

  He rolled onto his back and she came with him, resting her arms against his chest and gazing down at him with a satisfied smile on her face. “I was right to trust you,” she whispered. “I was right to marry you.”

  Married. He’d almost forgotten about the wedding. God, she’d had him half out of his mind in that damn tub! He would have done anything to get her into his bed, would have done anything at all to make her his at last. Married.

  But now that it was done, he couldn’t be sorry. He could think of worse ways to spend his nights than in bed with Eden Rourke.

  Eden Sullivan.

  Chapter 12

  Eden rose and dressed, and hurried downstairs to wake the children for school. She got them fed and out the door just in time. She didn’t tell Millie and Teddy about the marriage, deciding that Sin should be with her when she shared the happy news. Sin was going to be their papa, just as they wanted him to be.

  Apparently the rest of the hotel’s residents had been out late last night. No one was roaming about, looking for breakfast or wondering where she was. She very quietly returned to Sin’s room, closed the door behind her, and began to unbutton her blouse. She wasn’t ready to give up this time in bed with her new husband. Not yet.

  She stripped, tossed her clothes on the floor, and slipped beneath the covers. Smiling, happy beyond words, she scooted close to Sin, loving the feel of his skin, his heat, so much, that she couldn’t bear to stay on her side of the bed.

  “Where have you been?” he whispered, rolling over to face her.

  She grinned widely. “I had to get the children off to school,” she said, pushing back a long strand of dark hair that fell across h
is cheek.

  “How are you this morning?” he asked, his fingers in her hair and settling comfortably on her waist. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m much more than all right,” she confessed. “I feel wonderful. A little sore, perhaps, but... not very.” She’d never forget her wedding night, not as long as she lived. What extraordinary feelings Sin had introduced her to, what amazingly unexpected pleasures.

  He kissed her good morning, a gentle kiss that didn’t remain gentle long. His arms wrapped possessively around her, so that he cradled her gently and completely. There was something so right about being here, in this place, with this man, that she was as swept away by the rightness of the moment as she was by her physical response. She pressed herself to him, crushing her breasts against his hard chest, lifting one leg over his hip to bring them closer together. No matter how she moved, she couldn’t get close enough.

  Deep sensations of longing rushed through her, and her body began to throb. Everything she was, from her head to her toes, pulsated and yearned.

  Sin rolled her onto her back and spread her thighs, and moving slowly, he entered her. He stretched her, stroked her, pushed so deep inside he stole her very breath away. She held on tight and rocked her hips against him, as he made love to her. She ceased to think, to breathe, as he loved her.

  She shattered in his arms, lost in an intense pleasure that washed over her. At the same time, she felt Sin’s own pleasure, his release deep in her body, the shudder that ripped through him. She cried out softly, unable to remain silent as the culmination of the act vibrated through her.

  Sin toppled, descending gently over her body, cradling her in his arms.

  “I love you so much,” she whispered in his ear. “I never thought I could love anyone this way.”

  Sin had not yet told her that he loved her, too, but she was not concerned. She’d seen love in his eyes, felt it in the way he touched her. One day he’d tell her how he felt. Until then, she’d be perfectly happy to let him show her. Every day.

  * * *

  Sullivan was strangely content. Serenity was an entirely new feeling for him, and he didn’t expect the strange contentment to last. Still, while it did last he was going to enjoy it.

  It was midmorning before he and Eden left the bed. They dressed each other, taking their time and laughing and kissing. If he didn’t think it would be too much for her he’d take her again, slow and easy this time.

  Tonight would be soon enough.

  They walked down the stairs, his arm over her shoulder, her arm around his waist. Eden thought she loved him; she thought the rush in her blood was love, not lust. Sullivan knew better, but he didn’t waste his time telling her so. If she wanted to call it love that was fine with him. Right now he figured lust was as good a reason as any for getting married, and as long as they were both content... what difference did it make?

  At the foot of the stairs he took her in his arms for a long kiss. No one was around, and he couldn’t seem to get rid of the urge to touch her, not even after last night and this morning. He knew, with a sudden twinge of uneasiness, that he wouldn’t ever get enough of her. Eden Rourke—Eden Sullivan—was his one weakness, a chink in his armor, his Achilles’ heel. At the moment he didn’t care.

  “You were right,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Last night was better than anything.”

  “Tonight will be better,” he promised.

  She gave him a fleeting kiss. “Better? My goodness, is that possible?”

  “I don’t know, but I think we should try.” He pulled Eden against him, cupping his hands on her buttocks and holding her tight as he kissed her properly. She responded by immediately parting her soft lips and flicking her tongue inside his mouth. He couldn’t stop the groan that rose from his throat. “I want you again, right now,” he said. “Right here.”

  “Hell, Sullivan,” a familiar gruff and friendly voice rumbled from much too nearby, “looks like you and your lady friend came downstairs too soon. If I was you I’d...”

  Eden’s head snapped up and she looked toward the door just as Sullivan did.

  Jedidiah Rourke, covered with trail dust and carrying his saddlebags and his rifle, quickly lost his friendly smile. “Eden? What the hell are you...” His eyes landed on Sullivan. “You bastard.”

  There was no telling how much Jed had heard. Enough, apparently, as he dropped his saddlebags but not his rifle. “Get your goddamned filthy hands off of my sister.”

  “Jedidiah,” Eden said primly, “watch your language.”

  Jed shook a finger in her direction. “I’ll see to you next, young lady. First I’ve got to take care of this no-good backstabbing lily-livered mongrel.”

  Eden tried to place herself between them, but neither man would allow it. She was gently but firmly shoved aside.

  Jedidiah Rourke was a good six-foot-three and built like a tree trunk. Dark blond untamed curls hung almost to his shoulders, and a few weeks’ beard growth covered the lower half of his face. Sullivan figured he could take the bigger man in a fist fight, if he had to, but he didn’t think a brawl in the lobby of Eden’s hotel was the way to start this marriage.

  “Listen to me, Jed,” Sullivan said calmly as he and the big man danced around each other. “There’s a lot going on here you don’t know about.”

  “Tell me about it,” Jed seethed. He leaned his rifle against the green sofa and flexed his fists.

  Sullivan relaxed. At least he didn’t have to worry about getting shot. Yet. “Last night Eden and I...”

  Jed, not wanting to hear any more, roared and lunged forward, swinging wildly. “Damn it, I don’t want to hear about it!” he bellowed as he let his fist fly.

  Sullivan stepped aside, dancing safely under the wild swing of a massive fist. “Don’t make me hit you.”

  Jed spun to face Sullivan and poised to throw another punch. “I come in here and find you with your hands on my little sister’s ass and your tongue down her throat, and you want to explain to me what happened last night? I don’t want to hear it, you bastard. I’ve heard enough already.” Jed prepared to lash out again, and Sullivan got ready to move out of his way or to fight back, if he had to.

  Eden bravely stepped between them. “Jedidiah Rourke,” she said primly, “I will not have you threatening my husband this way. Do you hear me?”

  Jed didn’t lower his fists, but he did become very still as he looked down at his sister and narrowed his eyes. “Husband?” he whispered in a gravelly voice.

  “That’s what Sin has been trying to tell you,” she said with a smile.”We were married last night.”

  Jed’s fists loosened; his fingers flexed. “Sin?” He cast a quick, suspicious glance at Sullivan as Eden stepped up and gave her brother a big hug.

  “I’m so glad you’re finally here,” she said, going up on her toes to place her arms around his neck.

  “Married?” Jed said again, his hard blue eyes on Sullivan as he hugged his little sister.

  “That’s what I was trying to tell you,” Sullivan said. The mongrel comment still stung, but he let it go. For now.

  “Nate performed the ceremony right here in this lobby,” Eden said with a smile as Jed set her aside.

  Jed’s eyebrows arched in amazement. “Nate? Hell, Nate can’t marry anybody!” He was ready to fight again, and this time Sullivan wasn’t going to back off. “What did you do, rig up some fake wedding ceremony to get my little sister into bed?”

  Eden cast a suspicious glance of her own at Sullivan, a split second before Jed moved in and swung. Sullivan stepped aside and delivered a swing of his own. A solid punch landed on a hard and sizable midsection. He also put out his foot to trip Jed. The big man lost his footing and landed on the floor with a thud that shook the whole hotel.

  “What is all the noise about?” an almost aristocratic, coarse voice called from the stairway. Nate stood there, wearing the same clothes he’d worn last night, raking a hand over his head. “Can’t
a man sleep in this hotel anymore?”

  Jed rose quickly from the floor. “Did you perform some kind of half-ass fake wedding ceremony so Sullivan could... could”—the man actually blushed—“so he could take advantage of my sister?”

  “Of course not,” Nate assured Jed in a calm voice.

  Jed grinned at Sullivan, a wicked grin that said You’re dead.

  Nate continued. “The ceremony was quite real, not half-assed or fake at all, I can assure you. I am still an ordained minister, after all.”

  “Were you drunk?” Jed asked.

  Nate flashed a twisted smile. “Of course I was. But not so drunk I don’t remember that Sullivan looked like he was about to explode, or that Eden had a wide grin on her face and clung to her bridegroom’s arm like she would fall through the floor without him. I was not so drunk that I don’t remember that they both very willingly said I do before I pronounced them man and wife.”

  Jed groaned and placed his head in his hands, muttering an obscene word that had Eden blushing and stammering.

  Sullivan backed up a single step. Why the hell was he surprised by this development? He wasn’t good enough for Jed’s sister. He was good enough to fight with, to drink with, to trust with another man’s life. But to marry his sister? Of course not. No mongrel would be good enough for Jedidiah Rourke’s baby sister.

  Jed lifted his head and glared at Eden.”I thought you were going to marry Seymour Mayfield,” he said tiredly. “In your last letter you said...”

  “I said he asked,” she interrupted. “After giving his proposal some serious thought, I declined.”

  Jed shook his head. “You should be in Spring Hill, living in a nice house, married to a nice man, knitting or sewing or doing some kind of female thing. You don’t belong here.”

  “I do now,” Eden said calmly.