Rafe's Redemption

by Jennifer Jakes

  Rafe’s heart melted. If she felt that way, surely she would agree to be his wife.

  Snuggling deeper into his arms, she took another sip. “Now, tell me about your Christmases.” He shuddered. “There was always a party. Dozens of guests, food everywhere. Lots of desserts—that part was good.”

  She laughed. “Why am I not surprised the fondest memory you have is of food?”

  He grinned. “Mother had a huge tree put in the ballroom. Then the servants would decorate it with glass ornaments. Right before the ball, they would light tiny candles all over the branches.”

  “It sounds wonderful.” She sighed, then smiled lazily.

  Maybe she’d had enough whiskey. How could she think all that sounded wonderful?

  “It was loud and crowded. A nd Seymour didn’t like having me around his friends. So I stayed upstairs.”

  “I’ve never been to a ball.” Her voice was wistful.

  “Father wouldn’t let me.”

  “Why not?”

  “He said, he would pick the man I married, the man who would get his fortune, it wouldn’t be some money-hungry dandy I met at some party.” She sighed. “I didn’t care about meeting a husband. I just wanted to learn to dance.”

  Well, that was something he could fix.

  Setting her aside, he stood and bowed before her, brushing his lips across her knuckles. “May I have this dance, Miss Monroe?”

  Her eyes widened in fear. “Oh, no. I don’t know how to. Not really. I used to pretend with Nettie, but—” He silenced her with a kiss. “Just follow my lead.” Rafe took her in his arms and hummed a waltz, holding her a proper length away, letting her watch his feet. A s she relaxed into the rhythm, he pulled her close.

  “You’re too far away,” he mumbled into her hair. He wanted her body to move against his.

  “Really?”

  “No. I just wanted to feel you.” He slid his hand down to her bottom. “Not even married couples dance like this in public. A lthough, I did get an eyeful from my bedroom window a few times.” He laughed. “It overlooked the gardens. When Mother threw parties during the summer months, couples would go outside to get some fresh air. Or so they said.” He scoffed low in his throat.

  Maggie pulled back, wide-eyed. “You mean they were…” Her brows raised in question.

  He grinned at her surprise. She was still so innocent.

  “Oh, yes. You wouldn’t believe the things I saw. Quite educational.”

  She stepped back into his embrace and resumed the dance. “Well, I guess I did miss out on something by not going to all those parties.”

  Tracing the edge of her ear with his tongue, he slowed their steps. She shivered, a soft moan rolling in her throat. He imagined her at one of those parties, dressed in silk, her hair falling in ringlets around her smooth shoulders. He would have offered her his arm and escorted her outside to a dark corner. His groin hardened. Her skirts would have been no barrier against his roaming hands.

  He sucked her soft lobe into his mouth, then nipped with his teeth until her breath quickened and her nipples stiffened against his shirt. His cock throbbed in anticipation.

  “Would you have asked me to dance?” she whispered.

  “If you had been in attendance, I would’ve monopolized all your time. A nd I definitely would have taken you outside for some fresh air.”

  She leaned back, her eyes filled with desire. “There’s fresh air over on the bed.” Her voice was husky and inviting.

  He smiled. “Is there?”

  “Mmmhmm,” she moaned, further proof of her growing need.

  He stopped dancing and offered her his arm. “In that case, would you like to get some air with me, Miss Monroe?”

  “God, yes.”

  ****

  Maggie stopped beside the bed and let Rafe lift her shirt. The room felt overly warm. Or maybe it was just her. Sweat trickled between her breasts.

  Was she being too forward? He certainly didn’t seem to mind her suggestion of moving to the bed. In fact, he seemed more eager than she. His hands shook as he pulled off her trousers and dropped them to the floor.

  His ragged breath drifted over her body as he stripped.

  Insistent hands and a hungry mouth claimed her as he moved his hard body between her thighs and fell with her onto the mattress.

  Her insides tingled. That whiskey was quite enjoyable after the first sip or two. It made her feel impulsive, wild.

  She slid her hands down his strong back to his buttocks and squeezed. He grunted his approval against her breast as he laved her nipple into a hard tip.

  Chuckling, he moved to the other breast. “You like that, don’t you?”

  “I like everything you do to me.”

  She wiggled beneath his weight until she could press wet kisses to his face and neck.

  He rolled to his back with a smile. “You want to touch me?”

  She nodded, then climbed up his body, pressing kisses along the way. His skin tasted salty and male. He threaded his fingers through her hair, his hands tightened as her breath fanned over his damp skin. She moved to his shoulders and licked the tender pink flesh of his scar.

  “Don’t.” He tried to pull away. “It’s unsightly.”

  “Not to me. But all right.” She moved over his chest, the muscles quivered when she sucked his nipples.

  His hands slid to her bottom, caressing, teasing the cleft with his fingertips. Warm liquid pooled between her legs as his other hand toyed with her breasts. He plucked and pulled her nipples until a whimper escaped her throat.

  A fine sheen of sweat covered his body, and she marveled at the effect she had on him.

  “You’re an incredibly handsome man.” She smoothed her palms over his stomach.

  His breath hissed when she grazed the head of his erection.

  “Do you like that?” she repeated his question.

  “You know I do,” he growled through gritted teeth.

  He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

  How much more would he allow before he took control of the lovemaking?

  “My patience is about as thin as it gets.”

  “Hang on a little longer.” She stroked his shaft, enthralled by the slit on the dark crown and the bead of moisture that escaped.

  She glanced again at Rafe. He looked ready to burst when she reached toward the tip.

  Gently rubbing the head, she smeared the pre-cum over delicate skin.

  Rafe groaned her name. “Maggie.”

  She rubbed.

  He warned. “Not much more.”

  She caressed.

  He begged. “Please, sweetheart.”

  She flicked.

  He commanded. “Stroke me.”

  Wrapping his hand over hers, he moved in slow, steady strokes. He moaned and pushed himself into her palm.

  “Yes,” he hissed.

  Cum wept from his slit, too tempting to deny. She loved the flavor of him. Swirling the dew with her finger, she took it into her mouth.

  “Jesus,” he groaned as he watched her suck her finger.

  He hardened even more in her hand. The veins pulsed thick and heavy as he squirmed under her attentions.

  “Mmm. You taste good.” She licked the musky taste from her finger, then smiled. Pleasuring him drenched her cunny, making her ache to have his cock deep inside her.

  “Sweetheart, please. I can’t take any more.” His voice was desperate.

  “No?” she teased.

  “No.” With one quick motion, he flipped her onto her back. His hands spread her thighs, his fingers touched her wet center. She sucked in a sharp breath as he rubbed her sensitized nub. His mouth opened hers, and his tongue invaded. She welcomed his desperate lovemaking; urgency pulsed through her.

  He devoured her, swallowed her cries of release as he slid his thick cock where she wanted it most.

  “Rafe. Oh, Rafe.” She shivered, caught up in her own pleasure.

  Then he pulled out. Her inner muscles s
creamed, clenched, needing to be filled again.

  “Roll over.” His hands gripped her hip, pulling her up. “Kneel.” The commands were as ragged as his voice.

  Climbing onto her hands and knees, she stared down at the mattress, letting her face rest against the sheet, her nipples tight against the cotton, her bottom high in the air.

  His finger dipped into her channel, pulling the slick heat back to her anus.

  “Say no now if you don’t want this.” His cock rested against her ring.

  Did she? Yes. Her need for Rafe unraveled any inhibition she once had. There was nothing she didn’t want to experience with him.

  “Do it.” She wiggled. “Please.”

  His breath hissed free. “Let me get you wet.” Using two fingers he probed her drenched pussy, pulling the cream to her ass, smearing the tight hole. “Ready now?” His hold tightened. The broad head of his cock pressed against her, breaching the tight muscle. Hot, sharp pain knifed her ring.

  “Oh, damn.” She couldn’t stop tensing.

  “Still all right?” he panted. “I’ll stop if you want me to.”

  “No. It burns, but I don’t want you to stop.”

  “Maybe you just need some distraction.” Reaching around her, he rolled her nub between finger and thumb.

  Pleasure ricocheted through her belly, her cunny.

  “More.” She teetered on the edge of insane pleasure.

  “Help me.” He tugged her hand, placing her fingers on her pussy, beneath his fingers. “Now rub. Use your finger to fuck yourself. Help me make you come. I want to feel your ass milking me when you explode.” The naughty words combined with the feel of their fingers sliding in and out of her cunny sent a hot thrill racing through her blood.

  He pulled her back, shoved forward, and slid deep inside. His cock twitched, pulsed. It wasn’t enough.

  “More.”

  He pulled back, then slammed into her again. His fingers worked her nub, pinching, teasing. Each thrust wrenched a grunt from him.

  “Oh, God. Hurry, sweetheart. Come with me.” Balls slapped her cheeks as he pumped faster, faster, their fingers rubbing and probing, deeper, deeper…

  “A hh.” The scream ripped through the cabin, her body shattering into a million pieces.

  Rafe clutched her hips, driving himself into her ass one last time. Shudders racked his body as he poured his seed into her channel.

  She collapsed onto the mattress, his dick still swollen and throbbing inside her. Sweaty hair clung to her face and neck, his lips brushing aside the strands as he kissed her. He groaned. “God, how I love you.”

  She knew that. A nd she loved him. He was everything she thought she’d never have. Then tell him you’ll marry him. Spend your life with him. Trust him.

  Trust yourself.

  Maybe. Maybe.

  “I’m sorry. It was too fast.”

  “I think you showed remarkable restraint.” She turned and smoothed her palms over his sweaty chest.

  “A fter all, I teased you unmercifully.”

  “Yes, you did.” He didn’t sound at all upset about the fact.

  “I love you.” She draped her legs over his. “I hope you had a Merry Christmas.”

  He nuzzled against the top of her head. “I did. The best I can remember.”

  She took a deep breath and gripped his hand. “I have another present for you.”

  He glanced into her eyes. “What? I didn’t see anything else under the tree.”

  “It’s not something you can see. It’s a word, an answer.” She swallowed hard. “Yes.”

  Confusion gave way to disbelief. “Yes?”

  She nodded.

  “Yes!” He squeezed her until she couldn’t breathe.

  “You won’t be sorry, sweetheart, I swear. We’ll be the happiest two people on earth.” Moist kisses peppered her face. “This time next year we’ll have a big house on our ranch.” He yawned “With a big Christmas tree…and Nettie will be with us…Everything will work out fine. You’ll see, you’ll see.”

  He held her close, stroking her hair as his body relaxed and he drifted to sleep. But Maggie lay awake. He acted as if nothing was wrong with his idea of going after a madman like Simon. She shuddered. There was no guarantee Rafe would even be alive next Christmas.

  That was unacceptable.

  There had to be a way to make sure Simon never found Rafe. Maybe she couldn’t drag him to France, but she would think of something. She had to.

  Chapter Thirteen

  A new year. Just the thought filled Maggie with hope.

  She had managed to come up with a plan to keep Rafe away from Simon. Not a plan she was particularly proud of, but if she had to stoop to blackmail to save Rafe, she would.

  Mr. Bouse’s future as a reputable St. Louis attorney rested within her satchel. If she used that as leverage, getting him to find Simon—then make him disappear—

  shouldn’t be too difficult to achieve.

  It’s not just blackmail. It’s murder. Damn, her conscience. Bouse didn’t have to have the man killed.

  One carefully planned trap, and Simon could be on a paddleboat headed down the Mississippi. A nd from there…well, he just would never return.

  She swallowed hard and steeled her resolve.

  A ll she knew was if she didn’t do something, Rafe would be murdered. She just wasn’t sure he could pull the trigger when it came to another brother. A nd she damn sure wasn’t about to take that chance.

  Rafe leaned against the table beside her, and frowned. “What are you thinking about? Your lip is almost raw.” He smoothed the flesh with his finger.

  “Nothing.”

  “You haven’t changed your mind about marrying me, have you?” He looked worried.

  She smiled. “No. I can’t wait to marry you. It’s just…” It couldn’t hurt to try just once more. “I just wish you’d change your mind about finding Simon.”

  Rafe sighed, then smoothed his palm down her cheek. “We’ve talked about this. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

  “But—”

  “Maggie? McBride?” A woman’s voice cut through the trees.

  “That’s Little Owl!” Maggie flung open the door and scurried down the snow-covered path.

  Cecil’s lanky frame appeared, pulling a homemade sled. Little Owl sat perched among blankets and furs, waving happily when she spotted Maggie.

  They clasped hands as Maggie walked alongside the sled. Little Owl’s belly was huge beneath the covers.

  “No baby yet?”

  “Not yet. Soon.” She rubbed her swollen skin. “Not soon enough though.”

  “But she still insisted on a visit,” Cecil added with a frown at his wife.

  The men shook hands once the sled stopped in front of the cabin.

  “She hasn’t stopped pestering me for a week,” Cecil grumped to Rafe. “Figured it was easier to just give in.”

  “Stop that. You make me sound like a—” Her eyes narrowed in thought. “A nag.”

  Cecil grinned, love obvious in his eyes. “Never.” The whispered words wafted to Maggie’s ears. Cecil looked to Rafe. “Hiding in the cave has been hard on both us.”

  “But did the soldiers come through?” Rafe asked, as he helped Cecil lift Owl from the sled.

  Cecil shrugged. “No. There’s been so much snow, I wonder if they decided to hole up in Lesterville.”

  “Could be,” Rafe answered. “Might be best to stay away from there for awhile.”

  “I didn’t plan on going anywhere. Not even here.” He frowned at Little Owl again.

  “Hush and go on to the barn.” Owl shooed them with the blankets. “We have woman things to talk about.”

  “That means they’re going to talk about us.” Cecil winked.

  Maggie felt Rafe’s gaze roll over her. “I’m not worried. I’ve been good,” he bragged. Heat flushed her face as he smiled, then followed Cecil to the barn.

  “I’ve wondered about you these weeks,” Little O
wl said as they prepared the noon meal.

  “A s I have you.” Maggie sat at the table beside her friend and reached for a potato. “I’ve thought about the baby, too. I wondered if I’d get to see it.” Little Owl looked up quickly. “McBride still not insist on make you leave?” Her voice was indignant. “It is clear to the eye how much he love you.”

  “Oh, no. I know he loves me.” Maggie smiled. “We’re going to be married down at the fort.”

  Little Owl beamed as the women hugged awkwardly across the table.

  “I am glad. I knew he had feelings the first night I see him with you.”

  “Well, you were right about him. A nd I’ve never been happier.”

  “But…” The temptation to share her worries was nearly overwhelming. Owl would understand. But it wasn’t Maggie’s place to tell anyone Rafe’s past. If he wanted people to know, he would have to do the telling.

  “I’m just thinking I’ll miss you while we’re in St. Louis,” she said instead.

  “You will be back by the end of summer,” Little Owl insisted. “McBride will want to place his traps for the winter.”

  “Yes. I hope so.” She yawned loudly. “I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to be rude.”

  Little Owl smiled. “You just tired. I was too, at first.” A flush burned Maggie’s face. Was Owl talking about overindulgence of sex? How embarrassing. How could the girl tell? Was there something obvious that said Rafe loved Maggie into exhaustion every night?

  “It will pass,” her friend offered.

  Maggie didn’t think so. She couldn’t imagine a time when just one look at Rafe wouldn’t make her hunger for him.

  “You have not been sick?” Owl crooked her neck, looking much like Wolf when he tried to figure something out.

  “Why would I be sick?” There was nothing sickening about Rafe.

  Little Owl shrugged. “Some women be very sick at first.”

  Maggie’s heart thumped as the words swirled in her mind. “The first of what?”

  Little Owl giggled then looked up from the potatoes.

  Her expression turned solemn, then surprised. “My friend, you carry McBride’s baby.”

  “What?” Maggie stood, then sat back down. “No, I’m not. I can’t be.” She didn’t have a plan for a baby. She wasn’t even sure if her plan to save Rafe would work.