“Then call us Fevered or, better, call us by our names. I’m Jimmy; he’s Shane. My family, they all have names, too.” Fierce protectiveness underscored his every word. “You’re Blue.”
She’d grown oddly accustomed to the name he’d given her. Among the People, names came from three sources—parents, shaman or spirits. She’d been called Rabbit as a child, for her inquisitive nature and speed. The eagle stole the rabbit during her naming ceremony, and her grandfather—the shaman—dubbed her Little Eagle. No one save her grandfather called her by the name until the dream shaman addressed her as such. Blue? Blue was Jimmy’s friend and companion.
Little Eagle buried her grandfather and lost her people. Blue found new people, new friends…
“Did I make you angry?” His breath skimmed her cheek again and his forehead brushed against hers gently.
“I was remembering.” Truth, she’d learned over the years, held power as well. “Remembering my people. My family.” The last of her line. The last to remember. As long as she lived, as long as she held their memories close, something of them would survive… “No one is left.”
“I’m sorry, Blue,” he whispered, trailing his fingers down her cheek. Only when he wiped away the dampness did she realize tears slipped from her eyes.
“You did nothing to harm me, Jimmy, or the People. You are trustworthy and honorable. I am glad I met you.”
“That makes two of us, sweetheart.” He traced a finger across her lower lip, then his mouth brushed hers. The connection sizzled through her and she parted her lips to accept the kiss. The many reasons why she should reject his passionate offer danced through her mind. Onsi ignored them all and wrapped her arms around his neck. When his tongue stroked hers, she closed her eyes and arched against him.
She was alive. It was time to remember what living felt like.
Chapter 11
Jimmy, Midnight with Blue
Blue passed out on him as soon as he’d sent her to sit. Shane hadn’t been far behind her. Jimmy saw to the horses, got Shane settled and fed, then made sure Blue was tucked into the blankets. The severe temperature drop worried him, particularly without a fire. He gave Shane the extra blankets, then bunked down next to Blue. Two bodies provided more heat than one. If the temperature dropped much further, he’d have shifted their roll over to Shane’s, and bunked all three of them beneath one set of blankets.
Uncomfortable for all of them, but better discomfort than freezing to death. Fortunately, the temperature hadn’t dropped further. Blue snuggled to him in her sleep, her back to his chest, and he’d draped an arm over her waist. With her so close, sleep seemed impossible, yet he’d still managed a light doze until she’d stiffened in his arms. At first, he’d thought she’d awoken, but when she released the faintest of keening sounds, he realized his mistake.
Waking her from the disturbing dream was his only option. Her curling into him even when she tried to retreat surprised him, but the last thing he expected was her kiss. The tentative touch turned demanding between one heartbeat and the next. The glide of her lips over his, the soft little gasp when she opened to him and let him explore, combined with the invitation of her tongue stroking his shredded all his good intentions.
Desire stiffened his cock and ignited a whole different kind of need. Rolling her over to her back, he kept his to the cold and pulled the blankets tighter around her. With a throaty, low groan, he broke the kiss long enough to scan the area, then checked on Shane. The younger man slept with his back to them, the steady rhythm of his breathing undisturbed. He’d been in a lot of pain when he settled and he’d chewed on the willow bark she’d given him.
Blue’s hand feathered over his cheek, and he glanced down to find her eyes open, seemingly gazing at him. Her pupils were huge, but she couldn’t see him as he could her. Her faintly swollen lips showed the bristle on his cheeks had rasped her skin. Teasing a thumb over her lower lip, he said, “I would be honored to share pleasure with you.”
The corner of her mouth kicked up into a hint of a smile. She did not give those grins freely, stoicism defining her in a way he’d never truly understood before. The transformation from loveliness to breathtaking struck him. If he could learn the secret to making her smile, he would use it all the time.
“To share a bed is to offer a promise, and I have so little to give you.” Guileless truth shone in the darkness of her fathomless gaze. He wanted to know more about her, could spend years simply learning what pleased, enticed and satisfied her. He wanted the time to explore the gift of her appearance in his life.
“I ask for nothing more than the delight of your company.” He needed more words. Funny, Quanto didn’t teach him the phrases to court a woman in Cheyenne. “And I will ask for nothing more than you are willing to give.”
She explored his face with her fingers, then slid her hand into his hair. Grateful he’d washed up before settling for the night, he let her dictate what would happen next. His body ached to push up the doeskin dress and explore the softness beneath. He could feel the muscles of her thighs contract where one pressed against his side. She’d parted her legs, allowing him to rest within the cradle of them.
“Jimmy,” she enunciated his name carefully. The way his name rolled off her tongue gave him a ridiculous thrill. He lapped up the intimacy implied within the syllables. Her next words were indistinct, whispered and seemingly layered in affection. If ever there were a time to understand her, it was when she lay beneath him. Had she issued an invitation? Rejected him?
“I didn’t understand the words,” he said, keeping very still because the awareness of her soft form beneath him rapidly escalated to the most blissful kind of torture. He’d enjoyed women, and from time to time, he’d taken a lover. Though those incidences always seemed few and far between. Perhaps some part of his former upbringing kept his actions in check or perhaps he sought something else in his bed partners than mere sex.
All he understood at the moment, however, was Blue fit him in a way he could only define as right.
“I asked for a blessing.” She stroked her fingers through his hair then down to the collar of his coat. When she pushed at the fabric, he loosened his hold long enough to shrug out of the jacket. Folding it, he slid it beneath her head. She played her fingers over his chest, loosening the buttons on his shirt. Her expression fascinated him. A smile hovered on her lips and the too-dark eyes seemed to encompass all of the night sky. If he stared long enough, he expected to see stars.
“You’re here with me,” he told her in a voice so husky he barely recognized it as his own. “I’m already blessed.”
Soft laughter erupted from her, and the sound captivated him. “Then consider my touch a gift and grant me your own in return.” With one last tug, she opened his shirt and the warmth of her fingers spread against his skin. Jimmy closed his eyes, savoring the contact. Need jerked through him, and he closed the distance between them.
Taking her lips in an open-mouthed kiss, he let his hands roam down her sides, exploring the contours and curves he’d admired. The doeskin dress might be soft, but her skin? Softer still. The dress proved easy to tug up and away. He moved swiftly, pulling the blankets over them both to keep her draped and warm. Abandoning her lips, he pressed a trail of kisses along her jaw to her throat. The blanket kept her scent close to him. Sunshine and fresh wheat, she filled his lungs with sunshine and heat.
Her breasts were slight, but full and he curved his hands around their shape. The nipples hardened against his palms. Blue fisted his hair and dragged him upward for a kiss. Her tongue tangled with his as she wrapped a leg around his waist. The denim likely rasped against her, but she arched to meet his hips.
The slow grind shattered his concentration. Breaking the kiss, he toed off his boots and hissed when the icy air slipped into the blankets. The chill beaded her nipples tighter. To free himself of the denim, he’d have to let go of her. Disliking the choice, he made sure his guns stayed out of the way yet within reach if neces
sary, then covered her breasts with his palms again.
Blue made a soft sound, a low groan, then arched her back to press against his touch. He wanted to play with her for hours, but his cock ached and he wanted to explore her elsewhere. Gliding his palm down her abdomen, he grinned at the tautness of her muscles. So solid, and firm everywhere, she’d been hand carved by a skilled creator. He traced the lines of her abdomen, then lower to cup her sex.
Damp and hot, she went still as he slid two fingers lower, teasing through the damp curls to find out if she was ready for him. The first bump of his finger against her clit made her gasp, and he caught her mouth in a kiss to swallow the sound. Like him, she seemed to fight to stay silent, and pleasure washed through him.
Determined to see her control slip again, he eased a finger inside of her. The walls of her sex flexed around him and he ached to be free of his denim and thrusting into the liquid heat coating his finger. When he added a second finger and grazed her clit with his thumb, she dug her fingers into his shoulders and bucked up to meet his hand. The involuntary motion reflected in her tight expression. She pressed her lips together until they went white with the effort.
Satisfaction vied with possessiveness as he teased further reaction from her. Her tears earlier cut him, more so for their silent commentary about her loss. If he could not erase the source of her pain, he wanted to abolish the pain itself. Pleasure proved a powerful tonic.
Her panting breaths turned ragged, her movements more uncontrolled, as she rode his fingers. Mirroring the thrusting he wanted to do, he continued applying pressure then dropped his mouth to savor her beaded nipple. First with his lips, the tease more for himself than her, then he closed his mouth on the tip and sucked it against his teeth.
A muffled groan thrummed in his system. She gripped at his hair, pulling him closer. Happy to oblige, he teased the nipple with tiny nips and hard sucks then laved at her with his tongue. When her squirming increased, he flicked her clit and matched the pulse with his tongue. Blue gave a soft shout, the whispers of it stroking over his senses, and she came around his fingers.
Aching and damn near blue-balled, he eased his fingers from her while she continued to quake. He peeled open his denim, unwilling to expose her hot flesh to more cold air. Once he freed his cock, he surged up to cover her. She closed a fist around him and the pressure added to the tightness pulling his balls up.
Though trembling, she guided him to her entrance. Rather than ease him inside, she began to stroke his tip along her slit from her entrance to her clit and back again. Flushed, her teeth dug into her lower lip and her muscles stood out in stark relief against her throat. The action tensed him further, driving his sanity right to the edge. Once. Twice. Three times. When he thought he would lose his mind, she nudged him home and arched her hips.
Obeying the wild need within him, he thrust forward and sank into the velvet clasp of her sex. His breath whooshed out of him and he went still, worried about the level of force in his entry. His body didn’t give a damn, but the man refused to hurt her. Ever.
Blue pulled at him then wrapped her legs around his hips, and he seemed to ease deeper into her. The connection sizzled along his spine, ravaging the threads of control he fought to hold onto. The urge to shout burned in his chest, but he stayed silent and so did she. Her eyes opened and, though he knew she couldn’t see him as he saw her, he locked gazes with her. No pain reflected in the twin dark pools, only desire, and she angled her body upward while dragging at his shoulders.
Obeying the unspoken command, he took her mouth in another tongue twining kiss and let go of his control. With quick thrusts, he found a rhythm and she matched him motion for motion. Every movement pushed him closer to the edge. She nipped his lower lip, the sucked at the spot as though in apology. The sound of their flesh coming together joined the harshness of their breathing, wrapping them in a cocoon of pleasure. Her fingers dug into his back and he felt his balls drag up tight. Another thrust, and he was flying. The pleasure raced over his muscles, streaming over his flesh like hot breaths of air and, had she not been so firmly wrapped around him, he could imagine himself soaring above the clouds.
Not prone to indulgences or flights of fancy, Jimmy savored the sensation of her quivering around him as he drifted to earth still locked in her arms. After nuzzling her cheek, he buried his face against her neck. He never wanted to move again.
How long they lay together, he couldn’t say. Blue stroked his back in lazy motions and his ear pressed to her shoulder, savoring the steady thump of her heart. Not wanting to crush her, he finally eased from the comfort of her body and switched positions, careful to keep her covered lest the cold get to her. Back to the hard ground, he gathered her to his chest. She fit him damn-near perfectly. She slid a leg between his, and he wrapped his arm around her waist, spreading his fingers against her hip.
The night remained quiet and their time undisturbed, which he counted as a gift. At some point, her breathing evened and her heart slowed. True sleep took her. He stared at night’s canopy overhead and sighed. Each day they’d lost more time from his hunt. Come dawn, the doppelganger would be too far ahead of him to track.
Did he continue his futile pursuit in the vain hope of picking back up his trail? Or should he take Shane and Blue home to the ranch?
The ranch. Home was where his family awaited, so it made sense. Blue’s breath warmed his skin. So did the thought of taking her with him. One question remained—would she go with him? Worry for his family shouldered the question of Blue’s choices aside. He couldn’t let the doppelganger escape.
Despite his comfort, sleep proved elusive, so he contented himself with holding the woman in his arms while he tried to work out a solution. He must protect his family, and he needed to protect his two charges.
How could he accomplish both?
Onsi, East of the Tempest Trail
From the moment she woke in his arms until he reluctantly released her to retrieve her dress and bathe in the icy pool, Onsi acknowledged a shift in the world. Neither she nor Jimmy commented on their lovemaking the night before, though she felt his gaze follow her as they prepared a meal and readied the horses to ride again. Her right wrist ached, the ring of bruises clearly detailing the imprint of Shane’s grip. The younger man spotted it during breakfast and the sheer self-loathing in his eyes disturbed her.
“The injury will heal,” she said in halting English. Though she’d grasped several words, not all of them made sense. She needed no language to understand the younger man’s upset. Cursed or—Fevered or not, he had not intended injury and he’d saved her life. Both acts worthy of mentioning.
“I shouldn’t have done it,” he said, his voice low and dark. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“This one knows.” She frowned, searching her limited English for the right words to ease his disquiet. Finally, she lifted two small sticks and held them up. “See?” She tossed one into the fire. Flames licked over it, crackling the twig until it blackened until the fire consumed it entirely. She bent the second twig. The soft sap within the twigs made them flexible, allowing her to distort their shape. “See?”
Shane frowned and glanced at Jimmy. “I don’t understand her.”
“You took the hit for her—” Jimmy gestured to the twig in the fire, then covered the bent twig in her hand with his. The stroke of his thumb against the side of her finger sent a quiver of awareness zinging through her system. “Had she taken it, she would be like the twig in the fire. A bruise she can heal. In other words, she’s not angry with you.”
“I’m angry with me,” Shane said, thumping his chest. The torture in his gaze hurt her more than the ache in her wrist.
“You’re not your father, Shane. You were in pain, a lot of it, and you lashed out. Even then, you only held her, preventing her from touching you. You didn’t go any further. You never tried to strike her and, when I told you to put her down, you listened.” Though she only understood some of his words, Jimmy’s eve
n tone carried the weight of authority. He continued to hold her hand throughout his speech, stroking the bruise on her wrist with a light touch.
The contact helped in its own way, offering comfort and soothing. “If the young one would feel better, he can owe me a debt.” Not that she intended to ever collect on it.
Raising his brows, Jimmy considered her. His gaze dipped to her mouth briefly then returned to her eyes. Reading his interest in his gaze, she felt her lips curve.
“Not that kind of debt.”
“Good.” He nodded. “You’re definitely not for him.”
“No,” she agreed. “You are more than enough.”
Satisfaction gleamed in his eyes, and he glanced at Shane. He spoke so rapidly she had a hard time following all the words. After a long moment, the younger man nodded.
“Done.”
“What did you tell him?” she asked when Jimmy grinned.
“To do your chores whenever you ask until he feels the debt is settled.”
A reasonable request and, since she never planned to ask…
“You will have to ask him,” Jimmy interrupted her thoughts. “He needs to feel as though he made amends.”
“The act is important to him?” Weighing the hell she’d seen in the younger man’s eyes against her personal independence, she could concede to a point.
“Yes.” A simple answer. A definitive one.
Agreeing cost her nothing. “For as long as I travel with you, then.”
He didn’t repeat her answer. Instead, his eyes narrowed and his lips compressed into a thin line. Tugging her hand away, she rose. Better to check the horses, then decide the direction of the journey. Jimmy believed the ones who slaughtered her village hunted her. Nine men died so far—was that all of them? She hadn’t interrogated the spirits after the ambush at the camp, as the living needed her more.
Perhaps she could locate a defensive position then wait for those coming for her. An itch between her shoulder blades reminded her Jimmy observed her every movement. No matter where he was or what activity he engaged in, his awareness of her was a blanket against her skin. Sharing his bed may not have been the wisest decision, yet she found no trace of regret for the act. She had the right to take a lover, more—she enjoyed his company and his touch.
The Quick and the Fevered Page 17