Backing away swiftly, she found herself butted against her bedroom door. Her hands gripped the doorframe, her knees shaky under her skirt. If she couldn’t guess it by the huge bulge tenting his trousers, his roving hands, the wicked intent in his eyes was unmistakable. He wasn’t here for coffee.
“We belong together. We both know it. I read it in your eyes the other day. ” His voice was ragged, tense as he stared at her pleadingly.
She swallowed her unease. The truth in his words was a harsh slap to her senses. “What occurred the other day was nice.” She wrapped her arms over her waist as her stomach tightened.
“The weather’s nice, Meg.” His expression was wild, frustrated. “What took place between us was entirely different. We made love.”
“That wasn’t love. That was sex.” Her breathing was coming a little too fast, voice sounded a little too weak as her arousal ebbed away slowly. She tried to regain her composure, To sound convincing and firm in her denial.
“Then allow me to make love to you now,” he whispered, coming dangerously close.
“A wonderful memory.” She held up a staying hand, realizing she was a step away from entering her bedroom—the bed. Caleb was too close. Unable to resist the temptation, the memories, her gaze ran the deliciously long length of his body and settled on the hard, prominent appendage straining against his trousers. She blinked, drew her eyes upward. Her voice came out strangled. “It’s time we move on.”
“I know you want me. That you still love me.” Hurt, sexual frustration, anger, and a host of other emotions blazed in his eyes.
Her heart clenched. She suffered the error of giving into temptation.
“There’s no moving on without you,” he added with conviction.
“That’s nonsense. Devin is going to walk inside any second now.” Her gaze dashed toward the front door, half expecting it to swing open. “You know how surly he can be,” she said with emphasis, fearful Devin would walk in and find them together in a compromised position.
His eyes narrowed, heavy-lidded and dark. “Devin’s not coming.” His voice chilled.
“What?”
“We have an agreement.”
Her eyes widened. “An agreement? What sort of agreement?” she asked quietly, almost too afraid to even ask the question or hear the answer.
“Finding out you don’t know him as well as you thought,” he replied judgmentally. His eyes turned mysteriously dark, disapproving.
“Caleb, you can’t just waltz into my home, grope me, and tell me it’s acceptable because you have an agreement.”
“Think about it, Meg.” He leaned against the opposite counter and crossed his arms over his chest. “Devin ties you up in the woods, and he invites me to fuck you. You were in and out of consciousness, and neither of us wanted to stop. He drove the wagon while I sucked your sweet pussy in the back. It was a long ride home, Megan. There was lots of cream to keep be busy.”
Shocked by his bitterness and nonchalance, she stared at him in disbelief. His gaze lowered to below her waist, and she felt her face flush in embarrassment. His summation consumed her. Her senses were in chaos. The flesh between her thighs ached with need, as if her soaked vagina recalled what she could not.
“You don’t remember, do you?” He paused a moment, as if waiting for a reply. “I come over today, and he agrees not to interrupt us. What sort of agreement do you think it is?”
Her gaze darted out the kitchen window. The barn doors were closed. They were never closed during the day. No sign of Devin. Her heart sank, her body trembled. What agreement could they have possibly made that would keep him away? He had allow Caleb liberties, free reign over her body?
“He knows?” Her voice was a questioning murmur.
“Not only does he know, but the idea was entirely his.”
“It can’t be!” she shrieked, too bewildered to say more. She knew all too well about Devin’s so-called agreements. Her indebtedness to him. His perverse sexual desires. Carnal appetite so insatiable, it required more than one of Jazelle’s soiled doves to satisfy.
“Devin wanted to kill me when he found me talking to you.” His voice softened, turned tender as he crossed the kitchen. “What do you think he would do if he found me making love to you? Think about it, Megan. Why else would I be here, if not for him?” He made a move to reach for her, a gesture of comfort.
She shrank back and buried her face in her hands. Caleb had never been cruel before. What changed? What the hell was happening to her life? She was shaking. Her mind raced with unanswered questions. One truth reigned supreme: Devin would murder anyone who touched her without his permission.
At the realization, she stared at Caleb. As far as she knew, their relationship was based on honesty. Devin? What did she really know about him?
“Caleb, tell me truthfully.” She searched his expression for answers. Anything to end the turmoil. “What agreement binds you and Devin?”
“Ask him.” There was a severity to this voice despite the low, calm tone.
“Very well,” she snapped, pushing away from the door. Fury and confusion pulsed through her veins. She needed answers, not the damned combination to his family’s bank vault. “Seeing how you’re afraid to tell me.”
“The truth should come from him,” he cut her off sharply.
Grabbing an old dishtowel near the sink, she used it to take the coffeepot, now bubbling loudly, off the stove before rushing out the door.
* * * *
The sound of the barn door banging against the outside wall caught Devin’s immediate attention. His head jerked around from where he stood inside Deuce’s stall, brushing the golden coat with long, caring strokes.
His eyes narrowed suspiciously from Megan, who was storming towards him, to Caleb, who followed a few feet behind with a troubled look upon his face.
“Is there a problem, Megan?” he asked in his normal deep, nonchalant tone, brushing Deuce as though he didn’t have a care in the world.
She stood in front of the stall, hands on hips, tapping her foot anxiously. Her almond-shaped eyes were small slits, but the fury raging out of them was full-blown.
“Depends on if what Caleb said is true,” she bit back. Her lips were set in a rigid pink line.
“How am I supposed to know what Caleb said?” He replied, sweeping a brief glance in her direction. “We barely spoke three words to each other this morning.” He ignored her as he continued to brush Deuce.
“You sorry son-of-a-bitch,” she lashed out furiously.
“Whoa, girl.” His head shot up, a brow faintly arched in amusement. “That’s a damn soap word if I ever heard one.” He grinned and strolled toward the exit.
“Did you or did you not send Caleb inside to fuck me?” Her hands fisted in her skirts. She looked about ready to snap his head off. With or without her teeth. Ouch!
He paused momentarily midway as he opened the gate and glanced at Caleb. Locking the gate behind him, he calmly walked past her to a nearby shelf, where the grooming supplies were kept. He tossed the brush in the box that held several other brushes in various sizes and styles of bristles. Finally, he turned and faced her, crossing his arms over his chest and studying her casually.
Her tiny body might have been stiff with anger and her words shockingly heated, but he absorbed the denial she fought to hide shining in her hazel depths. He knew the inner workings of her body, the ease of her passion. Whatever happened in the house, arousal flowed through her system. That was for damn sure. Her small breasts were swollen, lushly constrained in her form-fitted white blouse. The areolas, typically as pale as her breasts, now a rosy pink, clearly visible through the thin cotton material. And any man with eyes could see the pearl ornaments gracing the center of her firm globes, heedless her arousal was so gloriously displayed. It made his mouth water.
“Is that what he said?” He finally spoke.
“Yes,” she snapped, casting a fleeting glance at Caleb, as though expecting him to deny his word
s.
“Does Caleb lie?” he inquired.
“No,” she responded.
“Then I guess it’s true.” As always, his tone remained the quintessential sound of smoothness. She came expecting his denial, a fight. But he refused to give her what she wanted. Not about this. Their safety, hers and the girls’ was at stake, and he plumb refused to back down on the issue. He’d push it and keep pushing it until she finally agreed. Even if that meant tying her down in front of the preacher.
Caleb shook his head as he leaned against one of the larger beams in the center of the barn. Evidently, he could see his marriage disappearing before his eyes. Poor bastard.
“You lying, yellow-livered heathen!” she sneered.
With a slow blink, his eyes rested on hers. “What exactly is it that I’m supposed to have lied about?” he asked curiously. No matter how despicable his actions, he hadn’t lied to her.
“Why you took me to the river. Just so you and Caleb could have your wicked way.” He could see the tears forming, clouding her eyes. She blinked. A futile attempt to hold them back. “You never cared a lick about me.”
He dropped his arms to his side and his entire body stiffened.
“That’s a lie, Megan,” he protested. “What I told you was the truth. I wanted him to…” he paused, unsure how to explain what he was truly feeling. His intentions were honorable, at least to him. Darting a brief glance at Caleb, then back to her, he stared at the solitary tear running down her cheek. “I asked Caleb to marry you.” Another tear fell, and he swallowed tightly. “I had to be certain you’d accept.” Then another. He took a deep breath, then blew out slowly. “I wanted to accustom you to the idea of being with him.” The tears flowed now, and for the first time in his life, he felt the nastiness of remorse seep into his unscrupulous soul.
* * * *
Speechless, Megan gaped at Devin for what seemed like an eternity.
The tension in the barn escalated, oxygen vanishing.
His response was not even close to what she expected. She didn’t really know what she’d expected—definitely not this.
After Rosalinda, she vowed never to shed tears over Devin Spawn. She felt her face turn ten shades of red as the fury swelled to intolerable levels. She clenched her fists at her sides. Damn him. She wished she was a man. She’d show him a thing or two.
Turning to Caleb, she glared at him. Was no one immune to the devil’s temptation?
Wiping the tears from her eyes, she took a deep, steadying breath. “And you agreed to this?” Her voice sounded like a pitiful murmur.
“I’ve always wanted to marry you. I asked you to wait for me, but you married Reed, instead. It was the only way I could ever have you.”
“Was that the agreement? For us to get married, and you take me and the girls away from here? Out of the way, so we would no longer trouble the notorious Mr. Spawn?”
* * * *
Casting his gaze downward, Caleb couldn’t bring himself to admit the final part of their agreement. Suddenly felt guilty for his part in betraying Megan’s trust.
When Devin first asked him to marry Megan, he was shocked and suspicious. He believed the man had lost his mind. After his persistence, Caleb decided to hear him out. Megan and the girls’ safety was a major concern. For whatever peculiar reason, Devin trusted him.
Caleb wanted Megan. For ten years, there wasn’t a day that passed when he didn’t want her. He was willing to take her on any terms. If Megan loved Devin, then by God, she loved Devin. She was the type of woman who loved deeply, wholly, with all her heart. It broke his heart to hear she loved another. It made him realize he had lost her forever. Devin’s carnal idea gave him a flicker of hope, though it was too incredible, too wicked, too debased to even consider.
Nevertheless, he and Devin did the unthinkable, the unforgivable. They took that first step and redirected the love she had grown to feel for Devin toward him. They’d rekindled the flame they started long ago.
Truth be told, he wanted her to agree. He was willing to marry her under any terms. If that meant sharing her occasionally with another man, so be it. He had seen the heated look in her eyes, heard her feminine cries of bliss as her arousal endlessly flowed from her body, saw her reach out to them, seeking and begging for them to satisfy her, the immense pleasure they both brought her. He would do anything to bring her that much happiness every day if he could.
Now, here he was with nothing to lose but the only woman he would ever love.
From across the wide expanse of the barn, Caleb eyed Devin. His expression remained unruffled, his manner easy, truth seen only in his eyes. Each of them accepted blame inwardly. Though Caleb could not outwardly admit to such deception, he knew it showed in every tense muscle, in his despair. Devin, a master of dissembling, appeared at ease, whereas Caleb’s gut wrenched.
He lowered his gaze to the fine layer of dust on the front of his black shoes. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her, to see the hurt and anger he caused, aware she just scratched the surface.
* * * *
“What else, Caleb?” Judging from the look on Caleb’s face, Megan was certain more stipulations applied.
“What constitutes this so-called agreement?” Megan shouted, turning toward Devin after waiting a moment for the response that was not forthcoming. Caleb put it all on Devin’s shoulders. Why not? They were broad enough.
“I’ll support you if need be. However, Caleb is to remain on the ranch with you and the girls.”
“With blood money. No thank you. And why would you care where we lived? You won’t be here.”
“Whenever I return, I want you here with me.” His voice was surprisingly calm, sincere. As if what he asked was common circumstance.
Her jaw dropped. She felt the blood rush from her face as the air left her lungs. She glanced over her shoulder at Caleb. He looked guilty as sin.
She titled her head around to Devin. “Do I understand you correctly? You want to marry me off to Caleb, and you want me here waiting for you whenever you decide to return?”
“It’s the only way I’ll be assured of your safety.” There was no emotion, no warmth in his voice or expression. No ‘I love you.’ Not even a ‘I’m sorta fond of you.’ Nothing. He was inhuman.
Megan felt her temperature rise, the well of rage bottomless.
Devin wanted to turn her into a whore, at his constant disposal. Continue to use her after she took a solemn vow before God, pledged her love and fidelity to another. All under the disguise of a preconceived deception for her well-being. He was insane.
“No wonder they call you the Devil’s Spawn. You’re nothing but a heartless bastard, lower than a snake’s belly. You’re not concerned for my safety, just your own twisted perversions. Why pay for a two-bit whore, when you can gallop into town whenever you damn well please and fuck another man’s wife?”
She turned her vengeance on Caleb, stormed to within a few feet in front of him. “As for you, Caleb Walker, have you no conscience? What would your priggish mother say? Maybe the three of us can fuck in your bedroom while your mother and the pastor’s wife have tea downstairs after church services on Sunday. Seeing how you agreed to this pact with the devil, how’s this Sunday? She can pray for our redemption afterwards.”
“Megan—” Caleb bellowed, discernibly shocked by the depth of her anger. Caleb knew she disliked his mother, but not nearly as much Mrs. Walker disapproved of her. Even so, she’d never spoken cruelly of the woman until now.
“Damn you both to hell,” she shouted, cutting Caleb off before he could get another word in.
In a swirl, she swung around and headed for the door. Mindful Caleb moved toward her in an effort to calm her down, always the considerate gentlemen. The epithet negated the circumstance. Before he could reach her, she noted Devin’s saddlebags hanging from a hook on the wall near the door, his rifle resting underneath.
Lost in the heat of madness surging up in her, she grabbed the rifle. The clicking
sound of it engaging was cold and deadly, as she swung it around and aimed it directly at Caleb.
“Take off your clothes,” she demanded.
“Megan, let’s talk about this. Put the rifle down.” Caleb froze in his tracks, hands in the air in supplication. His eyes wide, alarmed.
“Too late for talking. Now take off your clothes.” She glared at Caleb, waiting as her lips tightened, and she felt her teeth grinding. She frowned when he didn’t make a move. Decidedly, he required convincing.
“Someone once told me if you pull a gun, pull the trigger. Don’t think I’ll do it? Try me.”
“Megan,” Devin shouted, stepping toward her. She shot him a quick glance, warning him she had taken his advice to heart.
Raising the rifle, she pulled the trigger. The roar ripped through the roof, leaving a hole the size of a watermelon in its wake. With one hand, she cocked the second barrel. Devin’s dark brows rose faintly, moved by her adeptness.
“You only have one shot left,” Devin pointed out smugly.
“One’s all I need for the bastard who doesn’t do as I say.” Aiming the rifle directly in the middle of Devin’s chest, her eyes narrowed on his.
“Which one of you is that going to be?” Her eyes darted to Caleb, then back toward Devin. “Keep your hands up,” she warned Devin. “Now strip.”
With a smirk on his face, Devin made a move to unbutton his shirt.
“Not you.” She ordered, wiping the smirk right off Devin’s face just as if she slapped him.
Silver eyes burned fiercely as he looked at Caleb, who shrugged his shoulders and slipped off his jacket.
“I should have shot the both of you when I had the chance. You, Caleb, for making a pact with devil. As it is, I’m going to let you make love to me nice and slow. Just like in your little agreement. You get to watch.” The last heated words aimed at Devin.
“It’s kinda hard getting hard with a rifle pointed at you. If you know what I mean,” Caleb said.
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