“I think about you, too. All the time. But especially late at night, when I get into bed and shut out the light.”
“Really?” He leaned forward, breathing the word against her cheek. His tongue darted out to tease her earlobe. Emily moaned. Her robe fell open as she pressed against him. Ben sucked in a breath, aroused by the feel of her breasts against his chest. Thoughts of his father quickly faded, and time itself seemed to disappear.
Later, he would think again about the danger, he told himself. In this moment, only he and Emily existed, nothing more, and he could think of nothing but loving her.
* * * *
“Ben?” Lifting her chin slightly, Emily looked up at him, her heart filled with love, with desire, and with all the uncertainties that came from wanting someone too much. To share intimacy before marriage was sinful, but whenever he touched her, her body ached for more. She knew so little about love, only what she’d learned from Miss Brundage—which was to say, nothing at all. “Do you remember that evening…when I first came to work here? When I…walked in…”
“At a rather embarrassing time?” He grinned and nodded. “I was mortified then, but looking back now, I can laugh at it. Yeah, needless to say, I remember it quite well.”
He drew her closer, and she felt his body stir, felt him growing hard against her. Shivers of heat—how was that even possible?—coursed up and down her spine.
“You said you thought of me when you…”
“I think of you all the time.” He pressed tender kisses against her forehead, to the bridge of her nose, at the corners of her lips.
“And it arouses you? It makes you excited?”
“Very.”
“Are you excited now?” No need for her to ask. She only wanted to hear him say it, to admit that she was the reason for his lusts.
“You know I am.”
“Is it true, Ben, that if a man’s lusts are thwarted, it causes discomfort?”
“Did Miss Brundage tell you that?”
She shook her head. “No, Hattie Mae said it. Is it true?”
“Very true.”
Emily sucked in a quick breath. “I’m sorry, Ben. I don’t want to cause you any distress.” Truly she didn’t, yet it surprised her to hear the playful, teasing sound of her own voice, leading him on toward forbidden pathways.
Without hesitation, he followed. “I’m feeling a lot of distress right now.” His voice sounded pained, indeed.
“What would you have to do? To feel better?”
“All those heinous things Miss Brundage warned you about.”
“I see.”
Ben’s grin broadened. “I can handle it myself, or I could pay one of the, uh, professionals at the saloon to do it for me, or...” His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he gazed down at her with those mesmerizing golden eyes. “Maybe you’d be willing to help me out.”
Emily’s heart pounded so hard and so fast, she knew she was about to swoon right into his arms. Ben would catch her, of course, so she didn’t have to worry about falling and hitting the floor, and maybe getting a nasty bump on her head, but she was the one who’d asked the question, after all. She sucked in a very deep breath in hopes of calming her jittery nerves. Her breasts rose as she inhaled, jutting out with obvious desires of their own. Her nipples hardened beneath her flannel sleeping gown.
“What would I have to do?” she squeaked, still barely able to breathe. “I mean, you wouldn’t have to...that is, well...” Emily bit her lip, wanting to be brave and strong and courageous, and above all, she wanted to ease Ben’s pain, but not if it caused her to suffer the agonizing, excruciating pains of which Helen Brundage had warned. She grasped at his sleeves. “Don’t impale me, Ben, please,” she cried out.
“Impale you?” He shook his head. “In the first place, I don’t think it would be quite as bad as you’re making it sound. In the second place, I won’t ever do anything to hurt you. I won’t do anything you don’t like.”
“I don’t know what I like or don’t like.” Thoroughly confused, she peered up at him, wishing she truly knew what lovemaking was all about. “I don’t know what you like, either.”
“This is new to both of us.” He placed his arms around her and drew her closer still. “I’ve given myself pleasure many times, but I’ve never taken a woman to bed. I hope that doesn’t make me any less of a man in your eyes.”
His admission surprised her. Both her ardor and her adoration for him grew stronger still. “You’ve never been with any of the girls at the Red Mule? I thought all young men sowed wild oats, as they say.”
“I’ve never had any desire for those girls.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he spoke. “You’re the only one who excites me. You’re the only one I think about when I lie awake at night, when I’m alone, and I need…”
She sighed and rested her head against his chest. “I’m glad, Ben.” She drew back and looked up at him again. “Do you need…to think about me now? Would that help ease the pain?”
“What about you?” he asked, studying her face closely. “I know how it is with men, but don’t women feel desire, too?”
“I’m not sure, but I think that’s what I’m feeling now.”
“Describe it for me.” Ben’s breath brushed against the top of her head, sending more of those delicious shivers through her body.
“It feels sort of quivery, if that’s even a word.”
“Quivery,” he whispered, nuzzling against her hair.
“My knees feel weak. I’m not sure I can stand.”
He swept her up into his arms. “Is this better?” he asked, carrying her toward his bunk.
“Yes, much better,” she said in a quiet voice as he placed her atop the bed. Her mind reeled with wild, reckless thoughts. A momentary panic gripped her, but she quickly pushed it aside, recalling his assurances that he would do nothing to hurt her, nothing that she didn’t want him to do.
But exactly what did she want?
She wanted to please Ben.
“Tell me what I’m supposed to do.” She turned onto her side and gestured for him to join her. “Tell me where to touch you, how to make you feel good.”
He stretched out beside her. “Do you really want to make me happy?”
“Yes, more than anything.”
“Let me touch you. Let me feel you. Let me give you pleasure.”
As his hand stroked her cheek then moved slowly down to rest upon her breasts, she sighed and give herself up to the incredible sensations his touch provoked.
* * * *
Ben’s heart pounded. Emily lay beside him, and he gathered her close. Could he truly give her pleasure? He held his breath, unsure how to begin. Despite the desire surging through him, he worried that he might prove inadequate, that his attempts to give her satisfaction might fall far short.
His wish for her happiness spurred him on. His need to touch her was strong. For now, he would trust his instincts, allow his hands to be guided in their careful explorations.
Ben’s hand strayed to the bodice of Emily’s gown, fumbling at the tiny buttons at the neck. He drew in his breath as his clumsy fingers brushed against the bare flesh of her throat. Emily, he realized, had anticipated his moves. She had already unfastened the gown.
With a sense of reverence, he gazed down upon her, sucking in another breath at the sight of her delicate breasts partially exposed to view, inviting his touch. He placed a hand against her shimmering flesh, feeling the hardness of a swollen, pink nipple, and he moaned.
To touch was not enough. He wanted to taste.
“You’re so very lovely,” he whispered, lowering his head. His tongue lapped at her breast, then he boldly drew the rosy bud into his mouth and suckled it with teasing, playful tugs. Emily gasped but made no move to draw away. Instead she pressed herself closer. Her breath came in short, excited bursts.
As he continued his tender ministrations at one breast, his hand came up to stroke the other. He’d never tasted such a delectable morsel
as this tiny succulent nub.
Ben forced his mouth away, knowing he had so much more to explore, so many new delights to discover. Stretching out his long legs, he pressed against her, loving the feel of their bodies together.
“That felt good, Ben.”
“Hmmm…tell me more. Tell me how it felt.” He nuzzled kisses against her neck.
“Hot. Wet.”
He lifted his head, then trailed a finger across her breasts, toying at each nipple, then moving his hand downward. He heard her sharp intake of breath as his fingers slipped across the smoothness of her flat, taut belly.
“Just relax,” he crooned, his voice hardly his own. His words had a raspy, breathy sound. “I only want to make you feel good. If you tell me to stop, I will.”
“I know.” She turned to him with trust in her eyes. “I don’t want you to stop. I want you to touch me…all over.”
He required no further invitation. His own needs and desires could wait. All that mattered now was giving Emily the pleasure her body craved. Ben was aware of every move she made. Her thighs parted slightly as his hand slipped lower still, and her body swayed, pulsing and throbbing rhythmically beneath his touch. The small bed squeaked and groaned beneath them.
He touched her breasts again in a slow, lingering caress, then moved his hand downward, slowly and tenderly exploring her soft skin. His own passions flared, threatening to send him spiraling out of control as his hand ventured lower still. He teased at the wetness between her legs, then his middle finger slipped inside of her. Emily gasped as her body rocked with pleasure.
Bold now, Ben withdrew then thrust again, plunging deeper with each stroke. He pulled away from her, letting his fingers glide over her most private parts. He’d heard men talk about a sweet spot, as they called it. A place of utmost pleasure for a woman, they said.
Searching now, Ben’s fingers circled around a swollen nub of flesh, thrilled when Emily moaned and her body bucked upward. Loving every moment, he dipped, he teased, he circled, building her passion to a raging fire of desire.
Emily wriggled and moved her hand, closing it over his erection. “Ben, please, let me…”
His body jerked, his hard shaft pulsating against the coarse, denim fabric.
“I want to touch you,” she rasped.
“No, not yet.” It took every bit of willpower he possessed to gently reach down and move her hand away. “I’m not finished pleasing you.” His desires stronger than ever, he slid down her body. His mouth reclaimed her breasts, his tongue swirled around each nipple, then kissed a pathway downward, past the hollow of her navel, downward to the blonde tufts of hair between her legs.
* * * *
When Ben’s tongue slipped deep inside her folds, Emily cried out, fearing she might die from the pleasure, and knowing she surely would perish if he stopped. She writhed beneath him, lifting her hips from the bed, and pressing her flesh to his fiery mouth.
Ben caught hold of her hips and held her still, lapping slowly at her center. He licked, he nipped, he plunged his tongue in again and again. When his lips closed around the throbbing bud he’d touched earlier, spasms rocked her body from head to toe. She fought to muffle her ecstatic screams of pleasure as he nibbled and sucked. Wild from the mindless pleasure, Emily gave in to the delight as her body exploded into a thousand pieces.
Ben held her close, nibbling and sucking until the waves of pleasure gradually ebbed, leaving her weak, sated, and utterly satisfied.
He moved up to stretch out beside her, still kissing her gently, lovingly, almost reverently.
“What about your pleasure, Ben?”
He held her close. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”
“But I didn’t get to touch you. I didn’t get to do anything to—”
“Touching you was all I needed. Trust me, Em, I enjoyed it as much as you did.”
She heard a slight hesitation in his voice. “You’re not in pain now?” she asked.
“No, I’m not in pain.” He got up, and lowered his gaze. “I’m afraid I’m not much of a man, Emily. I can’t seem to control myself.”
At the sight of the huge wet spot on his trousers, her eyes widened. Her tongue darted out and she grinned up at him.
“Maybe we need to do this more often, Ben. Practice makes perfect, or so they say.”
“Yeah, maybe so.” Ben turned away.
“I think you need to take those off.”
“Yeah, guess so.” His head jerked around. “Are you disappointed in me?”
“Don’t talk crazy, Ben. Come back to bed, please.”
He yanked off his clothes then, naked, he slipped beside her. At once, she reached for him, eager to explore that odd-looking part of his anatomy. Her hand closed around it, marveling at how different it felt now than when she’d pressed against it earlier. Now, it lay against her palm, limp, soft, yet heavy. Her fingers moved downward to explore the strange sac at the base.
Ben groaned slightly.
“Did I do something wrong?”
He shook his head.
She stroked. She lifted his flaccid shaft, then let it fall. “It’s actually rather fun to play with, isn’t it?”
Ben reached for her hand. “If you keep playing like that…” He brought her palm to his lips and breathed hot kisses across it. Emily giggled. Never had she been more certain of Ben’s love. Never had she been more confident of the future awaiting them.
* * * *
“I have to go.” Near dawn, Emily shook Ben awake. They had not made love, but they’d thoroughly explored—and enjoyed—one another’s bodies, and had finally fallen asleep in each other’s arms.
She wrapped her robe tight around herself, still flummoxed at the thought of all the pleasures and passions her body had been capable of experiencing. Who would have ever thought! After all those fearsome lectures, all those frightening illustrations, and the dire warnings that accompanied them, Emily would never have guessed intimacy to feel so wondrous. She giggled now. Manly parts were actually rather…well, interesting.
Lifting up on tiptoes, she gave Ben a quick kiss then hurried through the door. Already the skies showed signs of light. When daybreak came, she must be tucked securely in her own bed. She wondered how she would hide the huge smile on her face.
She’d been so unhappy for such a long time. Now all the doubts were gone. There were no more uncertainties about her life and her love. All her questions had been answered. Ben loved her. He didn’t have to speak the words. Her heart knew the truth.
Her heart knew, too, that Ben wouldn’t be asking her to leave the Henderson farm now. Not after what they’d shared. No talk of danger or threat of trouble could ever drive them apart. Their love was stronger than any peril they might face.
* * * *
So much for getting rid of Emily Sue.
Ben stood at the doorway watching as she raced toward the house. Damn it, but the little wench had used her charms against him. Like some sorceress, she’d cast a spell over him and made him forget his duties and his responsibility to protect her.
He doubted he could be strong enough now to send her away. With one sweet word from her lips, one tender kiss, or even the slightest touch of her hand, he would succumb again to desire. Instead of asking her to leave, he would be begging her to stay.
Silently cursing himself and his uncontrollable lusts, he set about his work for the day. Maybe by nightfall, his missing common sense would have come back to him. Maybe he would have regained the strength he would need to deal with Emily Sue.
Ben worked hard throughout the morning and long into the afternoon, hoping that exerting his energy on his chores would clear his mind and help him become more focused. Little by little, logic returned, as did his determination to put a stop to the troubles and see his father back behind bars where he belonged.
When evening came, he saddled up and rode into Sunset, heading straight for the Red Mule. He took a table toward the back and sat facing the doorway where he c
ould watch patrons come and go. A quick glance around confirmed that his father was not among the Saturday night crowd.
After he’d swallowed down a couple of drinks, Ben got to his feet and approached a tow-headed young man seated at the bar.
“Evening, Hank.”
“Glad you didn’t call it a good one.” The man threw back a shot of whiskey. “Damned women. Can’t trust a one of them.”
Ben nodded and mumbled a sympathetic response. For years, deputy Hank Goddard had been chasing after Molly Munro, but the fickle Miss Munro couldn’t seem to make up her mind if she wanted him or Sheriff Bryant. She’d led both men on a merry chase.
“Probably a sore subject, but is Bryant around? I need to have a word with him.”
“Haven’t seen him, but if you find him, tell him to go to hell for me.”
From the doorway came a long, low whistle. Ben knew it well. He spun around as his father bore down on him.
John Brooks jerked his head toward his son. “Get your ass over here, boy.” He glared at Ben then turned, motioning for him to follow. With heavy steps, he strode back through the door into the frigid winter night.
Glancing around, Ben saw no one nearby. With a reluctant shrug, he dogged his father’s heels, tailing close behind him as he stepped around the corner into a narrow alleyway. In a swift movement, his father grabbed him, slammed him against the side of the building, and pinned his shoulders down.
“What the hell are you doing, boy? You thinking to double-cross me?”
“No, of course not.” He choked out the words.
“You just happened to come into town to jaw with that officer of the law. That what you’re telling me?”
“We were talking about women.”
“Yeah, and I’ve been invited to tea at the governor’s mansion.” He turned his head and spat out a wad of tobacco. “Not likely. Don’t think you can lie to me.”
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