Just West of Heaven

by Maureen Child

  Her nipples tightened in anticipation and a low curl of something wickedly exciting unwound in the heart of her.

  “Decide?” she repeated, touching his cheek, his hair.

  “We stop now and I take you home,” he said through gritted teeth, “or we go on and nothing is ever the same between us.”

  Her heartbeat fluttered wildly and her mouth went dry. She didn’t want to think. She wanted only to feel.

  To experience everything she’d always dreamed of.

  But a small, niggling voice in the back of her mind demanded caution. Demanded that she recognize what he was saying.

  He was right, she knew it. If they went on, it would change everything. More than even he was aware of. It was a risk, giving her body, her self, to the one man who could ruin the rest of her life. But it was a risk she knew she had to take. She couldn’t leave now. She couldn’t walk away from what he was offering. So she made the only choice she could.

  “We go on,” she told him after a long moment.

  He nodded slowly, and deliberately shifted his right hand to cover her breast. Even through the fabric of her dress, Sophie felt the heat of his hand brand her skin and instinctively she moved into his touch.

  “We go on,” he said softly, his thumb tracing gently across her nipple.

  She shivered in reaction, riding the crest of the unexpectedly wild series of tremors racing through her. Then she held tightly to him as he cradled her body with his left arm and gathered the reins in his right hand.

  “Hang on to me,” he said and nudged the horse into a trot. “There’s a place up ahead just a bit.”

  She nodded against him, burrowing in closer to his strength, his warmth. His heartbeat thudded beneath her ear and she felt its rhythm, breathed with it. It didn’t matter where he was taking her. Sophie’s body felt liquid, fluid, and she knew if he let go of her now, she’d simply slump to the ground, her muscles too weak to hold her upright.

  Then she remembered something. “My horse—”

  “She’s already started back down the trail.”

  Sophie looked over his shoulder and saw Moonlight ambling back down the mountain just as Toby had said she would. That problem taken care of, she settled back down into the crook of his arm and tried to close her thoughts to anything beyond this moment.

  Overhead, the canopy of tree limbs thinned as Ridge guided his horse along the trail and out of the shadows. Dappled light gave way to a soft, buttery, sunlit glow that crowned a meadow filled with fragile stalks of tall blue flowers and shorter plants with splashes of deep red blooms.

  Sophie sat up straighter on his lap, looked around the tree-edged clearing and sighed at the beauty of it. Her gaze swept across the flowers waving gently in the soft breeze, then shifted to take in the stand of pines that stood sentry around this small, but perfect garden.

  “It’s beautiful,” she whispered, glancing up at Ridge.

  He nodded. “Foster’s meadow. Named for the fella who once built a cabin here. See?” He lifted one hand and pointed to the far right corner of the meadow.

  She hadn’t noticed it before, but now that he’d pointed it out, Sophie saw the remnants of a chimney jutting up drunkenly from the sea of flowers. And before she could comment on it, Ridge urged his horse into a trot, aiming right for it.

  Most of the cabin had long since disappeared, fading back into the ground from which it had sprung. Blue and red blossoms crowded the remaining planks until all that was left of the cabin was the crumbling chimney and a few weathered floorboards.

  Ridge swung down from the horse, then held his arms out to her. Sophie placed her hands on his shoulders, and as he lifted her down, he let her body slide along the length of his. Her breasts ached and somewhere low inside her a throbbing need pulsed, demanding to be acknowledged.

  Standing there, amid the flowers, he bent his head to claim a kiss and Sophie went up on her toes to meet him. A soft wind caressed them, lifting the scent of the flowers and spinning it about them until Sophie’s head swam with the thick sweetness.

  She opened her mouth to his gentle prodding and gasped anew when his tongue swept into her warmth, stealing her breath, vanquishing the last of her doubts. His arms came around her like twin bands of steel, pressing her close, molding her body to his as though, if he tried hard enough, he might make them one.

  The sun poured against her closed eyes, dazzling her mind with flashes of brightness. She clutched at his shoulders, digging her fingers into the soft, worn cloth of his shirt. She wanted more. Needed more. And as if he heard her silent plea, he broke the kiss, set her back from him, and half turned to his horse.

  She staggered slightly and reached out one hand to him. He gave it a squeeze, then quickly untied the blanket roll he kept behind his saddle. Tucking it under his left arm, he grabbed her hand-and said softly, “Come with me.”

  He stepped into the center of the fallen cabin, swept the area with a careful but quick gaze, then released her long enough to open the blanket roll and spread it onto the ground.

  Sophie’s throat closed and she wasn’t entirely sure if it was caused by fear or excitement. And at the moment, she didn’t really care. She’d waited her whole life for this—had actually given up hope that she would ever know a man’s touch—and now that the time was here, she didn’t want to miss a minute of it.

  “I need you, Sophie,” he murmured, stepping closer. “I didn’t want to, but I do.”

  She sucked in a gulp of air and held it in on the off chance she’d be unable to draw another. “I know,” she whispered, as if she were in church. “I feel the same way.”

  He lifted his hands to the buttons at the neck of her dress and as his knuckles brushed against her throat she felt her heart hammer wildly in her chest. One button, then two, slid free and his fingers continued on down the long line of pearl buttons that swept from her throat to the hem of her pale green dress.

  Her gaze locked with his as the cool wind dusted across her bare chest. Goose bumps ran up and down her spine and she tossed her windblown hair back from her face with a quick shake of her head. Her stomach churning, she felt his fingers slip into the valley between her breasts. She gasped aloud, briefly closing her eyes in anticipation of more to come.

  “You’re beautiful, Sophie,” he whispered, and let his fingertips trail across the tops of her breasts.

  She swallowed hard, swayed a bit, then locked her knees in an effort to stay upright. She watched him look at her and for the first time in her life Sophie felt beautiful. His hands moved quicker now, his deft fingers undoing the buttons until he’d freed enough that the dress slid down off her shoulders and over her hips to lay pooled at her feet. He looked at the corset, clucked his tongue, then turned her around. In seconds, he’d loosened the ties binding her, allowing her to draw her first easy breath, and then he was tossing the corset aside and turning her back in his arms to face him.

  Now all that stood between them were the clothes he was wearing and her chemise and petticoat.

  “Is it my turn?” she asked and, before he could answer, reached up with trembling hands and opened the first button of his shirt. The backs of her fingers brushed across his throat and she felt the pulse beat there quicken. She smiled to herself as she realized that he was as affected by her touch as she was by his. A thrill of power swept through her, and setting the last of her shyness aside, she quickly unbuttoned his shirt, eager now to touch him, to feel the soft strength of his skin. She laid her palms flat against his chest and she heard a dark, low groan slide from the back of his throat.

  Catching her hands with his, he held her still and she felt his heart thundering wildly beneath her palms.

  “Jesus,” he muttered, his gaze moving over her with a hunger that she’d never thought to see directed at her. “What you do to me. One touch,” he said, “and I’m like some kid out on his first Satur
day night.”

  “Is that good?” she asked.

  “Hell yes, it’s good,” he said, reaching for her, “and it’s about to get better.”

  He pulled at the pink ribbon holding her shimmy tightly closed until the fabric lay open, her breasts exposed to his gaze. Gently, he cupped her breasts in his palms and Sophie sucked in air like a drowning woman.

  She clutched at his shoulders, her short, trim nails digging into his skin. “Oh, my goodness,” she whispered as his thumbs teased the tight, erect buds of her nipples. She groaned aloud, surprising herself at the husky need rippling from deep within her.

  Then he stunned her by bending his head and taking first one hard, pink nipple into his mouth and then the other. Over and over again, he nipped at her tender flesh with teeth and tongue. She fought to stay upright, clutching at his shoulders and swaying against him. Tendrils of pure, undiluted pleasure snaked through her with abandon, and she let her head fall back on her neck as she concentrated solely on the magic of what he was doing to her.

  “Don’t stop,” she said softly and heard the plea in her voice. “Don’t ever stop.”

  He chuckled against her, his breath puffing across her skin like a caress. “Don’t plan to, ma’am.” Then he suckled her and Sophie’s knees gave out.

  She collapsed in his arms and he instantly caught her and laid her down on the blanket he’d prepared for them.

  “You stopped,” she accused as she struggled for air.

  “Not for long,” he assured her and quickly stripped out of his clothes.

  Sophie stared up at him, boldly curious, and wasn’t disappointed. His body was just as she’d imagined it. Hard, strong, with muscles carved into his broad chest by a God who’d taken the time to do it right. Her gaze strayed lower and a small spark of doubt flared up inside her as she wondered for just a moment how on earth their two bodies could possibly fit together. Then she gave up the worry, leaving it in his hands, so to speak.

  He lay down beside her on the blanket and pulled her into his arms. She pressed herself close to him, brushing her breasts against his chest, loving the feel of his skin touching hers.

  Ridge couldn’t touch her enough. He swept his palms along her body, learning her curves, her valleys, her secrets. He pushed himself up onto one elbow and looked down at her as he touched her, loving the flash of eagerness that lit her eyes. He brushed his thumb across one of her hardened pink nipples and smiled to himself when her body jumped.

  “Pleased with yourself, are you?” she asked, one red eyebrow lifting into a high arch.

  “’Damn right,” he said, repeating the touch, just to watch her eyes darken again. Bending his head, he kissed the corner of her mouth and whispered, “I think I finally found a way to keep you quiet, Red.”

  Her lips twitched as she returned his teasing. “Quiet? In the books I’ve read, the heroines are usually shouting the hero’s name. Are you saying you can’t make me shout?”

  “Is that a challenge?” he asked, letting the tips of his fingers circle her nipple until she was twisting beneath him.

  “Mmmmm,” she said, “yes, I believe it was.”

  “You’re on,” Ridge told her and bent his head to let his tongue trace a path around the tip of her nipple.

  “Oh my,” she said on a sigh and arched her back, offering herself to him.

  And he took her. He lavished attention on the fair, milky-white skin he’d dreamed of for too long. He found the few golden freckles dusting her body and kissed each one of them until Sophie was twisting and moving beneath him. Every touch stoked the fire within. Every caress fed the flames. Every breath pushed him nearer the edge.

  “You’re mine, Red,” he whispered against her throat. “No matter what, you belong with me.”

  She caught his face in her hands, looked at him for a heartbeat of time, then brought his mouth to hers. She kissed him, long and slow and deep, driving his need into a fever pitch that threatened to consume him. And when he couldn’t breathe, she broke the kiss to move her mouth along his neck. The tip of her tongue drew a damp, warm line that arrowed straight into his heart. And Ridge knew he was done for. He felt the hunger in her blossom and grow and knew this was the woman he wanted for the rest of his life. He didn’t care what lay in her past. He only cared about her future. Their future.

  Sophie felt him sweep her petticoat down and off, freeing her legs to the sun’s warmth and the gentle kiss of the wind. The scent of the wildflowers surrounded them, drowning them in a rich perfume that staggered the senses. Ridge took her mouth, staking a claim on her mind and heart, his tongue mating with hers in a silent dance of advance and retreat.

  Her hands slid up and down his naked back, and she relished the feel of his skin beneath her palms. The hard strength of him, the cool softness of his flesh.

  Then he tore his mouth from hers and laid down a trail of damp, warm kisses along the line of her throat, across her chest, to the tips of her nipples again. Once more, he suckled her breasts, each in turn. With the earth beneath her, steadying her, she gave herself up to the sensations clamoring within. She arched into him, silently offering him more—silently demanding he take it

  And he did. His lips and teeth tormented her while his right hand swept down, along her rib cage, over the curve of her hip and back up, to trail across her abdomen with light, tender strokes. Sophie stared up into the cloud-tossed sky and stared at heaven while Ridge showed her a different heaven, here on earth.

  Suckling her, he dipped his hand down, past the soft curls at the apex of her thighs, to the dewy warmth of her center. When he touched her, her body jumped in his arms at the shock of the gentle invasion, but he didn’t give her a chance to withdraw, instead he pushed her on, further, higher than she would have thought possible.

  He touched her intimately, his fingertips stroking, soothing, teasing. Sophie sighed and moved against his hand, lifting her hips, twisting into his touch. She felt something inside her tighten, like a spring wound too tight. His mouth worked her breasts and she held his head to her, tried to keep him there even as he left her to trail his lips and tongue down the length of her body until at last he shifted, moving to kneel between her thighs. His hands stroked up and down the inside of her legs, gently, softly, the merest of touches, designed to drive her wild, to push her to the edge of insanity. Her fingers curled into the blanket beneath her, holding on tightly, fisting the rough material as though her grip on it would determine if she lived or died.

  She lifted her head and watched him scoop his hands beneath her bottom. Felt him lift her high off the blanket until her legs hung free on either side of him and her body lay open to his gaze. Warmth stole through her, a rushing heat that filled her cheeks and swamped her soul. Caught in the grip of his strong hands, she moaned softly as his fingers kneaded the soft flesh of her behind, then he lifted her higher still and as she watched him he lowered his mouth and took her.

  “Ridge!” Her shout broke the stillness of the air and he lifted his head long enough to grin wickedly at her.

  He’d won their bet. She nodded, breathless, and said, “If you keep doing that, I’ll shout your name until I’m hoarse.”

  “Deal,” he whispered.

  His wonderful mouth did things to her she’d never dreamed of. His tongue traced wild, delicate patterns over sensitive flesh until she writhed and twisted in his grasp, eagerly chasing the delight she felt lying just out of her reach. His strong hands supported her as he tasted and explored her secrets. Sophie looked at him—forced herself to watch him—and felt the excitement inside her quicken to a blistering pace.

  And the spring within her tightened further. She felt it. Harder, tighter, stronger. Always growing, expanding, tightening. She hurtled toward something she’d never known and fought to reach it. Her hips rocked in his hands. Her hands fisted, opened, and fisted again in the blanket beneath her. Tossing he
r head from side to side on the hard earth, she struggled forward, reaching, striving, and suddenly she felt that spring snap and, with one last gasp of stunned surprise, called out his name and dissolved.

  And while her body still rocked with gratification, Ridge laid her back down and gently pushed his body into her tight, damp heat with one swift, sure thrust.

  Ridge stopped dead, stunned. Seconds ticked past and he held himself perfectly still as he waited for the tension in her face to drain away.

  Then she moved beneath him, setting off a delicious friction between their bodies. She dusted her fingertips along his chest and instantly a greater need asserted itself. Ridge rocked his hips against hers and she moaned softly, lifting her legs to encircle them around his hips, pulling him closer, deeper.

  And his thoughts ended. He’d think later. Try to figure this all out, later. Right now, all he wanted... needed... was to join with her. Be a part of her. Be taken so deeply within her that he’d never be alone again.

  Bending his head, he kissed her as he advanced and retreated, leading her in an age-old dance that felt as new as a fresh morning. He gave himself up to the wildness he’d felt since the moment he’d touched her. The control he’d maintained while he had pleasured her disappeared in the rush to find the peace he knew was waiting for him.

  In a few fast, sure strokes, his body erupted, and as he gave her all that he was, he claimed a kiss to seal the unspoken bargain they’d just made.

  ●

  “Looks good,” Tall said as he took the tray from Mercy’s hands.

  “Fresh apple pie, venison stew, and hot coffee,” she said, wishing he’d look at her with the same kind of appetite he reserved for her cooking. Then sighing, she told herself that one of these days, she’d have to take things into her own hands if she expected to ever leave the maidenly life behind. Some lawman he was, she thought, with a shake of her head. Couldn’t see what was right in front of his face.

  “Thanks for bringin’ it over,” he said as he carried the tray with him to Ridge’s desk. “With the sheriff gone, I didn’t figure I ought to get too far away from the office.”