“Your pussy is so sweet, your cream so rich and luscious. I could go on forever,” he whispered in her ear, his hands caressing her breasts. With his voice low and deep, he told her she was beautiful, praised her body and how she brought him so much pleasure. Went on and on whispering ways he’d bestow pleasure beyond her wildest dreams, do wicked, naughty things to her, used explicit words that heated her blood.
Okay, maybe she wouldn’t shoot him, but she could still smack him.
* * * *
“So you tried to kill me by giving yourself to me the night we met?” Devin asked minutes later, after sensing the solidity of her body and breathing return to normal. His tone held no hint of emotion or judgment.
He detected a faint shudder race through her body. Her wariness and hesitation were apparent when she glanced up at him, as though she dreaded answering his question.
By her lack of response and guilty look, he guessed her answer was yes. Of all the ways for someone to take his life, that was the one way he would want to go if the choice was his.
“Unfortunately for you, your attempt at death by seduction failed.”
He held her close, to at least give some sort of confirmation he wasn’t about to toss her out the door—at least, not yet.
“There could be one of two reasons.” Biting her lip, she paused briefly and averted his gaze. “Most likely, because I lack feelings toward you.”
“You loved him?” His body tensed. Fortunately, seemly entrenched in her own web of trepidation, she failed to notice his apprehension.
Her breath caught in her throat. Eyelashes fluttering, she cast him a quick sideways glance, as if surprised he would ask such a question. Especially while they were lying naked in Reed’s bed, and after what just transpired.
“Reed?”
“Who else?”
“I…of course…I loved him.”
“What’s the second reason?”
“You and I didn’t really…complete the act,” she responded sheepishly. Her eyes flittered toward his cock, dark in contrast as it lay across the pale skin of her abdomen. Its thick length reached from one sharp hip bone just beyond the next on the other side.
“I came inside you,” he said. Looking up at him, she turned beet-red at his reminder of her behavior that evening. “What more is there?”
He studied her cavalierly, waited to hear if she dared mention his ineptness at fully consummating the act, only able to bury the head of his cock in her hot, wet channel. Even he was disappointed with the outcome. He had never come so fast. In frustrated agony the next day, he’d run into the waiting arms of three seasoned whores.
She shrugged her shoulders, causing her swollen breasts to rise and fall, brushing her peaked nipples against his bare arm, drawing his attention and making his cock twitch upon her belly.
“To test at least part of your theory, we’ll try again.” His lips curled into a lazy smirk, gliding his hand lower over her narrow hipbone, along her slender thigh.
She gasped, “What?”
Drawing her leg over his hip, he shifted her body gently until her back cradled against his abdomen, her buttocks pressed into his groin. The length of his cock tucked into her labia lips, the slick juices readily coating his flesh. He lowered her leg, the head and several inches of the shaft extended past the dark blond nest between her thighs.
He knew she couldn’t take her eyes away from the erotic sight. Hell, it was hard for him not to stare, not to give in to temptation and bury himself deep in the hot, wet heat he’d just tasted. A small sound from deep in his throat drifted past his gritted teeth as he felt her thighs clench around his hardness. Her pussy lips drench him with sweet, hot liquid. He was certain the carnal temptation was mutual when she bore down on the thick erection, as though aching to have him touch that spot, to give her that wonderful pleasure once more—only this time, with his cock.
He wanted nothing more than to give her what he sensed she desperately needed. It took all his determination, his last drop of control, and every bit of his willpower to hold off.
“Not tonight,” he hissed through gritted teeth, grasping her hand fisted in the sheets and bringing it to his cock. He drew her tiny palm around the solid stump throbbing between her clenched thighs. It jerked, and he groaned. He shifted his free hand underneath her torso, curled his arms around her and cupped her breasts, claiming ownership. He shut his eyes and burrowed her head under his chin, murmuring wearily, “I need my rest. And I fully get you’re not in love with me any more than I’m in love with you. However, we most certainly will complete the act when I return, and if I’m still alive afterwards, who knows? We may do it again.”
He knew.
Precisely why he was willing to put up with purple balls the size of coconuts, use the pent-up frustration to his advantage to heighten the awareness of every sense, use the savage hunger to kill every last member of the Laredo Gang.
When he was done, he’d return and release every ounce of raging testosterone inside her.
It may take hours, days to satisfy his voracious appetite, but he was going to have her anywhere, any time, any way he chose.
“Be forewarned. Now that I know you’re a picked-over wildflower, I’ll not make allowances like I did that night out by the river.”
Chapter 13
The following morning, Megan awoke as the rush of dawn flowed through the sheer lace curtains. She was weary, ravenous, naked and still trembling from the unbelievable memory. Who knew what they did could be such a workout? It drained her energy more so than the hard labor she performed daily on the ranch and for an entirely different reason.
She turned on her side, inhaled the lingering male scent and warmth in the indentation beside her. She was disappointed his presence would soon be another faded memory. There wasn’t a note, no goodbye, nothing. That was to be expected. Their relationship, if she could call it that, wasn’t based on respect, courtship, or even friendship, just sex.
The racy thought sent a shiver of forbidden excitement pulsing over her skin and arousal slamming into her pussy.
If the pleasure she’d experienced last night was any indication, their depraved arrangement wouldn’t be half-bad. She’d gain her freedom in a most delightfully wicked way, take the girls and move away after they parted ways. If she avoided pregnancy, no one would be the wiser. After all, she was a widow—no one expected her to be an innocent virgin, or would ever suspect she was sharing a bed with her deceased husband’s outlaw son. Very few people even knew he was at the ranch.
Nor did Devin ever need know that when she touched him, took his thick cock in her mouth and drank his liquid essence, she loved every magnificent, rigid, luscious inch of it. Aside from her fears and wariness, she couldn’t wait to part her legs and surrender her docile body to his complete control.
She felt giddy, her flesh tingling. Aware it was just a matter of time before she no longer had to deny herself, her body. The needs and desires burned hotter and brighter wherever he touched.
* * * *
After the bank draft cleared the following day, things soon went back to normal. Rumor had it Leroy Hardin got wind of Devin’s return and decided for health reasons it was best not to risk going against the notorious gunslinger.
Money made things easier as the weeks slowly dragged along. The girls gradually adjusted to life without their father. The first week was the hardest. With Devin absent, they felt doubly abandoned. At least Shelby did. Emma remained to herself, no matter how hard Megan tried to reach her.
Devin had offered no details or expected return. He’d only admitted there was a job to do. Nonetheless, if the army was involved, it couldn’t have been good. Troops spent their time fighting Indians. She was well aware how vicious an opponent they could be. In truth, she could offer no worthy reply to their inquiries if their brother would ever come back.
Megan submerged herself in the daily duties of running the farm. She kept herself and the girls busy and tried not to thin
k about him. Shelby and Emma were each sewn new outfits and had new shoes. Additional animals and supplies were purchased. Workers were hired to fix the leaky barn roof and the loose stones in the main chimneystack and other odd jobs that slipped to the wayside during Reed’s illness.
She even bought enough material to sew two black dresses to wear during her mourning period and started a third. She couldn’t help but wonder what the proper mourning period was for a widow who was eagerly waiting to be fucked by her deceased husband’s son. Each time she closed her eyes, the heated memory of taking his fiery erection in her mouth evoked a warm gush of liquid that soaked her pantalets.
The cold, lonely nights were spent dreaming hotly of Devin’s return. She awoke each morning alone, lustful, and with her fingers buried in her seeping wetness. Devin had introduced her body to unknown pleasure and awakened forgotten desires. Desires that needed relief, needed to be assuaged with his touch, his mouth, his tongue. Her fingers were a poor substitute as she tried to ease the burning ache that increased with each passing day and discomfiting night, but it wasn’t the same. She needed the man.
A few days ago, Caleb had paid a welcomed visit. Not one for frequenting Jazelle’s whorehouse or the Silver Nugget saloon, he failed to realize she worked there. No man in town doing business with his family’s bank or concerned one day they may be in need of his medical services, dared mention that his enamored was a harlot.
It was her own fault, really, she surmised. The night they took her away, she’d asked him earlier that day to leave and graciously suggested he not stop by so frequently. Concerned for his reputation, respectable gentlemen that he was, his presence at her house would cause gossip and only add fuel to the fiery disposition his mother already harbored toward her.
They sat on the front porch, talking and laughing over coffee one afternoon while the girls played in the yard, like old times with Reed, as though they were a family. From the corner of her eye, she stole glances at Caleb. No longer was he a lanky, unfledged boy of fourteen. He’d filled out nicely, tall, muscular with broad shoulders and looked distinguished in his tailored suit and tie. The perfect spring sky was no match for his deep blue eyes. Undeniably, Caleb was a very handsome man. Downright gorgeous. She was flattered that his interest in her never faltered. The sexual attraction still was there, simmering now, waiting to rekindle, but not blazing out of control, like it did for Devin. Nevertheless, it was there.
When the intense blue depths of his amorous gaze caught hers, she felt the lusty awareness burn deep inside her womb. Incredibly, she wished he would never stop looking at her that way, never stop wanting her. Never stop loving her. She wanted to take him in her mouth as she did Devin. Suckle Caleb’s flesh until he spilled over her tongue. That was something they never did in the past, anxious to share her new skills with him and more, to make up for the past and look toward an impossible future.
For both their sakes, it was up to her to stem the forbidden desires and carnal lust that had torn them apart in the first place and was predestined to keep them apart.
If only circumstances were different, they would have married, moved away, and started their own family. There was no doubt in her mind they could have been extremely happy together.
This ranch, Shelby and Emma, along with Devin, were her life now, and she was going to make the best of it.
Regretfully, when the memory of Caleb’s warm, tender kisses upon her lips, soft caresses kneading her breasts, and gentle touches probing her virginal pussy became unbearable, she sent him away. She hid from him what kept them apart, a dark past his parents were part of and she couldn’t forget.
* * * *
“Ya think he’s a coming back?” Morrow asked, looking over at Sergeant Major sitting gloomily on a log next to their campfire.
The scowl on Sergeant Major’s face deepened. He poked the embers, stirring the flames with a long twig in his hand. “Why wouldn’t he?” he grumbled, trying to sound convincing though he wasn’t certain.
“Can’t trust a man like that.” Webster joined in.
“He’s got more to lose than the rest of us.”
“Hell, we’re the one’s sittin’ here like ducks wait’n for the firing squad. I don’t see his neck nowhere’s round.” Morrow balked, spitting a wad of snuff into the fire.
Sergeant Major glared at him. “He’s tracking ‘em.”
“What we gonna do iffin he don’t show?” Webster’s expression didn’t hide the fact he was worried. Sergeant Major sympathized. Four men facing nearly thirty gunslingers at once wasn’t an everyday event. Even though he and Webster were sure shots, even he couldn’t stomach the odds.
“Sure as hell ain’t gonna run. We got orders.” Sergeant Major growled a long moment later, adding the twig to the flames as he sat up and eyed the rest of the men.
“Keeping the bastard in our sight wuz part of them orders. You’s the one let ‘em go off by himself,” Webster huffed.
“One of us shoulda gone with him.” Morrow shook his head soberly.
“I don’t recall you’s volunteering to tag along,” Sergeant Major reminded him, pissed off his men were second-guessing him. “Remember, two trackers can be spotted easier than one.”
“Yup, I’ll remember once the lead starts flying.”
“Tarnation, what the hell you yellowbellies worked up ‘bout?” Toledo hollered, lifting his hat of his face as he raised his head from the saddle where he slept, not far from the fire. “A guy can’t sleep with ya’ll gums yapping like ol’ bitties.”
“Go back to sleep. Toledo. Ain’t no one talkin’ to ya,” replied Webster.
Toledo drew up on his elbows, a quirky smile on his boyish, freckled face. “When you go on disturbin’ a man dreaming of romance, he got’s a right to speak his piece.”
Sergeant Major rolled his eyes to the night sky and sighed. Wasn’t there anything else on the hormone-driven young buck’s mind?
“I reckon we take aim and shoot up the motherfuckers so’s I can get back to that cherry in Tejas.” Toledo sat up, leaned on the tree butted against his saddle.
Sergeant Major straightened, thrown by Toledo’s remark. The nineteen-year-old was a fine horseman and a damn good shot, but hadn’t the sense of a sick mule if he was talking about the Spawn woman.
“You know the one. The shoestring hellion. I figger she’d be a fireball in bed. With an ass that small, fancy how tight her twat—Ouch!” he barked, rubbing his shoulder precisely where Sergeant Major had aimed the blunt-edged rock. “What the hell you do that fer?” He grimaced, still rubbing his shoulder.
“Best quit your figuring. Find another snatch to poke your dick into. That one’s taken,” Sergeant Major warned.
“By who? She’s newly widowed.”
“You’re young, and if ya got a hankering on growing old, you best take my advice and figure on another gal.” Sergeant Major snapped, gritting his teeth. The lad was his responsibility. A worried furrow creased his brow.
“You gonna interfere with a man and his love life, Sarge?” Morrow asked jokingly.
He bit back at Morrow, with a dismissive gesture directed at Toledo. “We ain’t here for romance. And I ain’t gonna take up for him when he’s faced with the wrath of a double-barreled, gun-toting lunatic seeking vengeance.”
“You ain’t talking ‘bout that Spawn fellow? That’s her stepson.” Toledo gave him a questioning glance.
“I love my ma, but I don’t pine after her like that,” Webster admitted, grinning ear to ear. Morrow, seated beside him, chuckled.
“Ah, I ain’t scared of him. Never believed nine-tenths of them stories ‘bout him no way. He didn’t even shoot that boozehound back at the saloon.”
“Wouldn’t have been a fair fight. The man stood a foot in front of him and still would’ve missed ‘em with the way his six-iron was a waving.”
“Well, I would have shot the scalawag jest fer pointin’ it at me.”
“Takes more guts to go against a pointe
d pistol with just your fist,” offered Morrow pointedly.
“Doesn’t make you more of a man if you ain’t fighting fair. ‘Sides, his hands were full of your woman,” Webster said just before he and Morrow busted out laughing.
Toledo fumed.
Some time later, when the four of them sat around the fire chatting, Devin stepped out of the darkness without a sound.
“Everything done?” The deep voice caught them off guard. Sergeant Major stopped breathing as he and Morrow instinctively reached for the pistols strapped to their hips. Webster leaned toward his rifle, slanted on the log.
Toledo, across from Morrow and Webster, gaped at Devin. Appeared frozen in his seat.
Devin moved closer to the fire.
Sergeant Major breathed a sigh of relief. Dropped his hands between his spread legs, away from his gun, and was elated he didn’t have to use it. He felt damned lucky Devin was on their side. If not, they’d all be goners.
“Yes. I’ve set the gun powder, and the guys built and buried the trap like you suggested.” Sergeant Major replied, glancing over at Morrow and Webster, who oddly continued to look nervous.
“Good. Then we’re ready.”
“Did you locate them?”
“Their camp’s not far from here. They’ll be here round mid-afternoon.”
“How many?”
“Just over thirty. I counted five wagons, not four.”
Major, Webster, and Morrow exchanged knowing glances at one another.
Sergeant Major calmly stated, “Colonel must have been misinformed.”
It was too dark to see his eyes, but the Sergeant Major felt the heat of Devin’s piercing gaze studying him intently.
“You sure they’re coming this way?” Sergeant Major quickly asked as a means to distract Devin’s attention from the extra wagon.
“What’s the best way to get where you want to go?” Devin replied, his brows drawn into a tight knit.
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