Desert Storm

by Ryan, Nan

  Angie sighed and, shifting slightly, offered him better access to that which he most needed. Her dreamy emerald eyes held his as her fingers traced the long scar curving down his abdomen to the top of his hipbone, its surface white and slick beneath her fingertips.

  When she’d traveled the scar’s length, her hand flattened, her palm warm and soft against his burning skin. Pecos moaned and dipped to part her lips, devouring, tasting, searing. His lean brown hand cupped her full breast. Eagerly she drew his breath into her mouth, making it her own, as his hot lips left hers and moved down to take the place of his kneading hand.

  Angie gasped as wild, surging pleasure shook her, and instinctively her small, caressing hand moved from his scarred hipbone, across his flat stomach, shyly seeking him. While his warm, knowing lips tugged gently on her aching nipple, Angie’s eager fingers closed around him and her eyes closed in delight.

  Her erect nipple was abruptly deserted as the dark, handsome head shot up, gray eyes wide and flashing. “Sweet Jesus,” Pecos murmured through clenched teeth, jerking her exploring hand away. “Honey, I’m only human. I can’t … I …” His face was etched with obvious pain. “I’m holding back for you, darlin’, but I …”

  Angie smiled and pressed two fingers to his open lips. “My love, hold back no longer,” she cooed. “I want you inside me; I want to hold you to me, Pecos. But—” the smile left her lips; her voice lowered to a whisper “—there’s one thing more I want.”

  “What?” he groaned, kissing the fingers on his lips.

  “Let me, Pecos,” she breathed, as once again she lowered her hand to clasp him, “guide you into me.”

  A groan of ecstasy escaped his heated lips as he shifted and gave himself over to the small, coaxing hand so tenderly drawing him to her. He bit his bottom lip and looked into those dazzling emerald eyes staring so brazenly into his while she expertly, seductively twisted her small, warm bottom, lifting it to him as though offering him the sacrifice of her total being to do with as he pleased.

  Angel’s beautiful face was aglow in the firelight. Her alabaster skin was flushed with unbridled desire and her eyes were two green pools of passion. Her lovely flaxen hair was spread out around her on the pillow, and the delicate column of her creamy throat was arched upward, as was her slender, curving back.

  “Pecos,” she breathed as her guiding hand fell away from him and he felt her moist warmth swallow him up.

  “Darlin’,” he moaned and took her with a deep, driving thrust that made them both gasp with shocked pleasure. Pecos began the slow, sensual rotation of his slim hips. She was his once again and she reveled in the almost painful plunging of his powerful male body. Her slender arms snaked up around his neck and she clung to his smooth, muscled shoulders while sighs of praise for his prowess as a lover slipped from her fevered lips, punctuated by tiny cries of rapture.

  His heart pounding in his chest, Pecos moved within her as he quickened the pace and they writhed as one heated unit, hurtling headlong toward shattering release.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  AFTER THE LOVING, Angie was happier than she had ever thought mere mortals could be. She protested when Pecos, lovingly kissing her damp temple, said softly, “I want you to sleep all morning. Promise me you will.” He reluctantly released her and sat up, swinging his legs off the edge of the bed.

  Angie, too, sat up. She moved close behind him, wrapping her arms around his trim middle and clasping her hands together in front of him, pressed her cheek to his back. “I’ll be happy to do just that, but where do you think you’re going?” She kissed his shoulder blade.

  Pecos plucked her small hands from his waist, turned and pulled her across his lap. “Darlin’,” he explained softly, “there’s a hundred things on old Del Sol that need seeing to. I think it’s time I got started, don’t you?” He nuzzled her tousled hair with his nose.

  “But, Pecos, it’s not yet daylight.” Her fingers played in the crisp, dark hair covering his chest.

  “Baby, even as we sit here, there are cattle out there on the far ranges in danger of starving, did you know that?”

  Angie’s eyes widened in shock. “But, I … that’s terrible. What shall we do?”

  Pecos grinned and set her back on the bed. Rising, he cupped her chin in his hand and said, “You, my dear convalescing young lady, will stay in your warm bed where you belong. I will roust out the foreman, find out what has and has not been done and get to work.”

  Angie watched him dress, fascinated with the way his sinewy thighs bunched and hardened when he lifted his legs. He stuffed the long tail of his shirt inside his trousers and sat on the bed to pull on his tall boots. “When will you be back?” Angie couldn’t keep her hands off him. Her small fingers slid up and down the soft fabric of his shirtfront.

  “Not till night,” he said matter-of-factly.

  Angie frowned and raised her hand to his firm jaw, urging him to look at her. “But that’s … Pecos, that sounds like forever to me. I don’t want you away from me all day. Please, darling, come back for lunch and we can—”

  “Sweetheart,” he interrupted, “I don’t like being away from you for a single second, but I can’t continue to be a worthless scamp while there’s so much work to be done.” He again rose from the bed. Angie watched as he strode to the chair, picked up his heavy jacket and shoved his long arms into the sleeves. He stood, a puzzled look on his face, his eyes sweeping the room.

  “What, Pecos? What is it?” Angie rose to her knees on the bed.

  “Honey, I can’t find my hat. How could anybody lose a hat? I don’t …”

  Wild giggles made him stare at Angie. She fell over onto the bed, laughing hysterically. “What the …” Pecos came to the bed. By the time he reached her he, too, was laughing. The vision of the lovely naked Angel, wearing only his, Stetson while she sat astride him tossing her golden hair around, grinding her soft, curvaceous hips in such a sensual, sexy rhythm that he nearly went mad, came back vividly.

  “What do you suppose became of my poor old hat, darlin’?” Pecos couldn’t recall seeing the Stetson after she’d brought him to a superb, fulfilling climax.

  Angie, continuing to laugh, crawled across the bed to its far edge. She fell to her stomach and reached underneath, drawing out the discarded hat. Lifting it proudly, she flipped over onto her back and announced, “I found it.”

  “Good for you, baby. Give it to me, I’ve got to be going.” He stood looking down at the laughing, naked girl clutching his hat.

  “Come and get it,” Angie challenged, teasingly lowering the soiled Stetson down to cover herself while her eyes held his.

  Pecos, enchanted and foolishly in love, crawled across the bed beside her. Looking down into her brilliant, mesmerizing eyes, he lifted his hat from her lower belly, crammed it on his head and kissed her mouth.

  “Listen to me, you little witch,” he murmured softly while his brown hand went to the golden triangle of hair between her creamy thighs. “I want you to get your tempting little body under the covers before I weaken and stay here with you, do you hear me?” His fingertips gently raked through the curly golden hair. “I’m your slave; you know it, I know it.” His fingers tickled and Angie’s breath began to grow shallow. “I’d like nothing better than to spend all day worshiping you.” His hand possessively closed over her, pressing down, cupping her protectively. “Release me just for today, darlin’. I’m in your custody; it’s up to you.” Pecos leaned down and kissed her parted lips. Angie trembled.

  He lifted his head and smiled down at her, his covering hand warm and intimate upon her. Angie smiled nervously, shoved him from her and anxiously scrambled beneath the covers. Pulling them up to her chin, she whispered shakily, “You may go; you have my permission. But know this, my passionate Pecos, when you get back tonight …” She lowered her lashes demurely.

  “You’ve my word, honey,” he assured her, and rising went to the door. Before he opened it he looked back.

  “Oh,
Pecos,” Angie rasped. She threw back the covers, bounded from the bed and flew to him, flinging her arms up around his neck. She stood on tiptoe looking into his eyes. “I … I’m sorry; I just wanted to kiss you goodbye.”

  Touched, Pecos gently cradled her head in one hand, her bare bottom in the other. “You know something; I think perhaps you do love me.”

  “I adore you,” she whispered honestly and pulled his mouth down to hers. “You’re all I ever want, all I live for,” she breathed into his mouth.

  Pecos trembled against her. “I had no idea life could be this sweet.” It was a statement.

  “Nor I,” she agreed and released him.

  PECOS, HIS BREATH VISIBLE in the chill air, sang happily as he walked across the snow-covered grounds of the hacienda toward the stables. Half an hour later, a dozen mounted cowboys rode out into the snow. Carts loaded with hay for the hungry cattle followed behind them. They headed due south.

  To the man, none grumbled or complained at being asked to ride out at dawn into the cold. Pecos McClain was back and the men were delighted. Pecos McClain didn’t mind the cold or the early hour, why should they? Pecos McClain had natural powers of leadership; the men rallied behind him. Smiling cheerily at one another, the cowboys shook their heads and assured each other that things at Del Sol would be better. Pecos McClain was back.

  Working alongside the men, Pecos pushed the bay he rode, urging him through the deep snow, his alert gray eyes scanning the dim horizon for the hungry steers. Whirling a lariat over his head and whistling loudly, Pecos rounded the cold, weak cattle into herds to be moved toward holding pens where shelter, food and water awaited them.

  More than once he dismounted to dig a frightened calf from a snowdrift. Pecos and his men worked the long, cold day through, stopping at noon to eat cold food from their saddlebags, their dining room a frigid lean-to meant to shade cattle on scorching summer days. Long pulls from a whiskey bottle helped to warm the freezing cowhands, and after a brief rest they were back at their task.

  In the mansion, Angie slept the morning away and spent the lonely afternoon listening for the sound of Pecos’s footsteps and the welcome sight of him. Insisting that she would wait for Pecos, Angie skipped the evening meal, refusing to eat a bite until his return.

  “Dear,” Miss Emily explained patiently, “you’re not yet accustomed to ranch life, I’m afraid. Pecos and the men are far out on the range. It could be quite late before he comes in, if at all. There are line shacks out there on distant sections of the land, and he might sleep in one of them.”

  Angie bit the inside of her cheek. “You mean you’re not worried, Aunt Emily?” Angie couldn’t help being uneasy.

  “No, Angie, I’m not, and you shouldn’t be, either. My gracious, the two of you stayed out all night and nothing happened. Pecos knows how to take care of himself and he’s not alone.”

  “You’re right, of course, I’m behaving like … like …”

  “Like a woman in love.” Miss Emily smiled understandingly.

  Angie reddened. “Yes, exactly. Auntie, don’t tell Pecos how silly I am.”

  Miss Emily patted Angie’s hand. “You’re not one bit silly. You love my nephew very much and I couldn’t be more approving. Everything is going to work out after all.”

  “Yes, it is,” Angie said with a nod, thinking silently that within the next few days, she’d ride into Marfa and see the attorney.

  Shortly after 9:00 p.m., Angie sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the fireplace in the library, a book in her lap. She looked up from the pages at Miss Emily, dozing on the settee, and Miss Emily’s eyes opened. Both women listened expectantly, smiling at each other.

  Wild as the west Texas wind, Pecos McClain blew into the big, warm room, his blue-black hair disheveled and the start of a dark beard covering his cold, handsome face. Angie, speechless, looked up at him, her stomach knotting with excitement at his bright warm smile. He tossed his battered hat expertly onto the top peg of the coat tree, winked at Angie and went to the settee. Bending, he dropped a quick kiss on his aunt’s happy cheek, straightened and headed toward Angie, a devilish gleam in his smoky eyes.

  “You’ll forgive me, Aunt Em, but bad girls must be punished.” He crouched in front of Angie, took the book from her lap and set it aside. A cold hand went into her hair at the side of her head. “You, my disobedient darlin’, are in for it.”

  “Now, Pecos, dear,” Miss Emily said, looking on and smiling, “you be careful with her.”

  Angie was looking fixedly up at the darkly handsome man whose cold fingers were raking through her hair. She had no idea what he intended, but she imagined any playful punishment he was considering would be some form of love-making and she wholly approved of the planned penance. Eager to feel his hands on her again, she taunted, “I’m a grown woman and I do as I please, sir.”

  “Perhaps while your master is away, you do.” Pecos brushed his lips to hers. “But I’m back now.” He lifted her in his arms, rising lithely. “You were to remain in your bed,” he chided, clicking his tongue.

  Aunt Emily took his side. “I tried to get her to, Pecos,” she said as she rose from the settee. “Worse yet, she hasn’t eaten any dinner.”

  A dark brow shot up menacingly. “Unforgivable,” said the stern-faced Pecos McClain. His expression softened when he looked down at his aunt. “Aunt Em, you run on to bed; I’ll reprimand this foolish child properly.”

  “Pecos, dear, there’s plenty of food left from dinner. Why don’t you and Angie …”

  “We’ll eat,” Pecos assured his worrying aunt. “Stop your fretting. We’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Yes, dear.” The understanding little woman reached the stairs, picked up her skirts and smiled at them. “Good night, children.”

  “Night,” they said in unison, as Pecos headed for Angie’s bedroom, holding her firmly against his chest.

  The kissing began before they reached their destination. “I missed you,” Angie murmured and pressed her.happy mouth to his.

  “Same here,” he whispered into her hair and throat. “I love you. You’re my woman.”

  They reached the heavy carved door, and Pecos leaned over so she could turn the doorknob. “What kind of punishment do you have in mind, master?” Angie teased, tingles of anticipation starting in her stomach.

  “The proper kind,” he assured her gruffly. The door swung open; Pecos stepped inside and kicked it shut behind them. “I am going to bare your lovely little bottom and give you a good sound spanking.” He looked into her eyes.

  Angie paled. “Put me down!” Her eyes grew cold; her expression became one of terror. Her small hands left Pecos’s neck and started pushing violently at his chest.

  “What the hell’s bothering you?” He held her tighter, laughing nervously.

  “I’ll not let you spank me, Pecos McClain.” Her emerald eyes flashed fire and hatred and she was struggling to get away from him. Her sweet voice had grown desperate. “No one will ever whip me again.”

  The laughter died on Pecos’s lips. Stunned, he immediately set her on her feet and watched in confusion as she flew across the room and flung herself facedown on the bed. He stood staring at her, the sounds of her strangled sobs filling the quiet, firelit room. His eyes never leaving her, Pecos shrugged out of his heavy coat and ran a hand through his unruly hair as he started to her, his heart skipping in his chest.

  Her slender shoulders shook as she cried heartbrokenly, her face buried in the mattress. “I’m not bad, I’m not. I’m a good girl, a good girl. Don’t spank me again, Papa, please.… Please, Papa, don’t …” her muffled, hysterical voice pleaded pitifully. “I’ll do anything you say.… I … please, don’t spank me, don’t.…”

  Pecos stood above the bed, looking down at her, fear turning his blood cold and compassion in his shocked eyes. She was so vulnerable, so helpless. What had happened to this poor young girl to make her so afraid at the mere mention of a spanking? What horrors had she
lived through in her hard, fast life? Had some man in her past beaten her? Her father? A lover? The bouncer in some whorehouse? Pecos shuddered. Pity mixed with love as he sat down on the bed, and putting a gentle hand on her shaking shoulder, he whispered softly, “Darlin’, it’s Pecos. It’s your Pecos, honey. I would never, ever hurt you. Don’t you know that? I was teasing you, Angel. I’m so sorry I frightened you. I never meant to.” His hand stroked her reassuringly. “I’ll never say such foolish things again, honey. Never.”

  Her sobs subsiding, Angie said tremulously, “I’m … so … sorry, my papa used to … he …”

  Pecos groaned and reached for her. She put up no resistance. Tenderly he pulled the sobbing girl across his lap, wrapping his arms around her and pressing her close to his chest. He lightly kissed her temple and murmured, “Shoo, darlin’, it’s all right now, it’s okay. I’ve got you, no one will ever hurt you again. I promise.” His protective hands patted her trembling back and his deep, kind voice consoled her. “I’ll never raise a hand to you, my precious love, never. No one will hurt you as long as there’s breath in my body.”

  “Pecos, Pecos,” she cried quietly, hugging him, her face pressed to his shirtfront, “you don’t know the truth about …”

  “Don’t, darlin’,” he said, stopping her. “We’ve the rest of our lives to sort it all out. For now, you’re not going to worry about anything. Anything at all.” His embrace tightened. “Know what we’re going to do, sweet baby?”