by Leah Braemel
“I’m really getting tired of you thinking you know what’s best for me,” Sarah stated from where she stood in the doorway.
Both men turned to face her, Jackson quickly averting his gaze while Nate smiled and held out his hand.
“What is it that you’re worried about, Jackson? That I’m going to run screaming into town? Denounce you for loving your best friend?” She advanced on him, skirting Nate, whose grin broadened. “Do you think I despise you? Because I don’t. I love you, Jackson. I worry about you. Both of you.”
“Then why have you been turning away from me?”
“The last three times we’ve—” Her gaze flitted to Nate. Devil take her, she was not going to blush. They’d been discussing her openly, so why should she act like a wilting violet? “—done our marital duty, I’ve been the one reaching out to you. So I figured it was your turn to take the initiative for once. When you didn’t, well, I figured you thought you’d done your duty to me and were wishing you could go back to the way things were.”
“You turned me down last time I tried.”
“If you’d cared to ask after me, you might have realized I was having my womanly time.” Heat bloomed into her face. Did they really need to discuss such a delicate matter in front of an audience? “But that was five weeks ago, Jackson. What’s your excuse since?”
Nate positioned his crutches. “You two need privacy so I’m gonna get out of your way, but I expect to hear that old bed creakin’ by night’s end with you two doin’ your marital duty, you hear?”
His chuckle faded down the hallway.
Jackson rubbed his forehead the way he did when he had a headache. Between that and the dark circles beneath his eyes, some of Sarah’s anger washed away.
“I’m sorry, Sarah. When you turned away, I figured you were disgusted by the thought of someone like me touching you.”
“I’ve never been disgusted with you. I just…” The heat rose in her face again. “I’m still not used to talking about my monthly with you.”
“And I ain’t used to having to worry about a woman’s time, either.” He released a long slow sigh. “Can we chalk this up to my pride gettin’ in the way as usual? I wouldn’t blame you if you don’t. It ain’t like I’m normal husband material.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Ah, heck, what I’m trying to say is, will you forgive me?”
“If normal husband material is a man like Billy Anderson, whose wife has to hide any money she earns so he can’t gamble it away, or like Missy Taylor’s husband, who beats her black and blue whenever he gets liquored up, then I think I got the better end of the bargain. And yes, I forgive you.”
One side of his mouth quirked up. “I’m not sure that being compared to a deadbeat or a drunk is a compliment.”
Sarah wished she could curse as well as Jackson. “I apologize. They were bad examples. Perhaps Miss Martha’s husband Abner might be a better one.”
“Now there’s a cold fish who’s never given me the time of day.”
She tried to come up with other examples, but for the life of her she knew few other couples as happy as she’d been these last six months. “What I’m trying to say is that you’re a good man, Jackson. You’ve been a good husband and a good friend.” She lowered herself beside him and rested her head on his shoulder. “I’ve never regretted marrying you. And I appreciate how you’ve been faithful to me even though I wouldn’t have been your first choice.”
His sigh came from deep down. “And I’ve never regretted marrying you. I know it’s hard for you to understand, but I am capable of loving a woman. Of loving you.”
She went still. No one had ever said he loved her before. Was Jackson saying it now? She wondered how she could ask without embarrassing either one of them when she realized his breathing had evened out. The man had fallen asleep sitting up.
Chapter Eight
A door slammed downstairs. Jackson opened his eyes and winced at the sunlight streaming across the bed. Sunlight? It had been dusk when he’d come home and made a complete horse’s ass of himself. He’d been talking with Nate…no, Nate had left. He’d been talking to Sarah.
He’d apologized. Hadn’t he? Had she accepted it?
He turned his head to find her side of the bed empty. Damn it. That it was bright meant he must have fallen asleep and slept the whole night through. A quick check beneath the sheet she’d pulled up over him revealed that she’d managed to undress him, no easy feat because he’d not awoken to help her. That he could remember.
Outside a horse whinnied—Bandit calling to one of the mares, from the sounds of it. Soft footsteps down the hall warned him of Sarah’s approach. He frowned when the footsteps went past the bedroom. “Sarah?”
The footsteps stopped and returned. The door creaked open and Sarah, with a basket of folded laundry in her arms, smiled at him. “Good morning. Sleep well?”
“I did. What time is it?” Her soft smile told him she’d accepted his apology. At least something had gone well last night. If he could have just stayed awake and proven how sorry he was.
“It’s almost noon.”
“Noon!” He shot up, the sheet falling over his hips. “I slept almost sixteen hours?”
“You were exhausted.” She set the basket down on the chair and stood in front of him. “Nate and I talked this morning and decided to let you sleep as long as you needed. Nate’s asked Bobby Lee to look after things today.”
The practical side of him wanted to complain about how she should have gotten him up, but he felt better than he had in a long time. Besides, she looked so pretty standing there. She’d pulled her hair into a bun earlier but it had loosened, and tendrils curled down her neck. The sleep had definitely left his body raring to go.
He rested his hands on Sarah’s hips and pulled her between his thighs. He needed her, but he needed to make sure they’d squared things between them. Last thing he could take right now was her walking away.
“I don’t quite remember what I said to you last night, but if I didn’t apologize, I’m sayin’ it now. I’m sorry if I was ignoring you. And…” He swallowed again. “We’ve not been using your skirts to hide behind, Sarah. Don’t get us wrong about that. I love you. I don’t ever want you thinking otherwise.”
“I love you too.” She stroked her fingers down his cheek and over his jaw. “I’ll try to not be embarrassed telling you it’s my monthly next time.”
“You’re not having your monthly now, are you?”
A flush rose up her neck and into her cheeks, accentuating her golden skin, especially in the bright sunlight that spilled over her. Her chin tucked against her chest, and her eyelids dropped as she shook her head.
“Is Martha here?”
“No.” He barely heard her whispered answer.
“Where’s Nate?” Not that he particularly cared at the moment. After all, Nate himself had said he wanted to hear the bed creaking. He planned to oblige.
Her gaze shot to the still open door. “He’s in his study.”
“You got anything on the stove downstairs you need to check on?”
Another tiny shake of her head. Her flush deepened, telling him she knew where his questioning was headed.
“Good.” He reached up and undid the top button of her bodice. Then the next. Repeating that she wore too many clothes, he peeled off the layers of bodice and skirt, and all the underlayers she’d donned that morning. Once she stood in front of him without a stitch covering her, he threw back the sheet and stood. His cock jumped as it brushed her belly, reminding him it had been far too long since he’d taken advantage of his husbandly rights.
Jackson pulled the chair in front of the cheval mirror. “Sit down.”
She started to head toward the door, but he caught her by the arm. “Where you going?”
“To close the door.”
“Leave it. Nate knows where you are and where I am. If he wanders up here, it’s his own damned fault.”
“But he’ll see me…” She ge
stured down her naked torso. “All of me.”
“Yeah, he would.” He leaned down and whispered in her ear. “That’s part of the excitement. The danger of being caught in the act. Now sit your ass down in the chair.”
Sarah gave him a bemused look but sat. He grinned at how demure she appeared, her hands folded in her lap with her feet crossed at the ankles. While completely naked. He bent to brush a kiss on the top of her head then plucked the pins holding her braids in the bun. Once he’d released her hair from its bonds and it flowed over her shoulders and down her back, he picked up her brush and began to brush the long black strands. “I sure do love your hair.”
She sighed but leaned her head into the brush. “I’ve always wished I had curly blond hair like Missy Barnett’s.”
He’d not met a woman yet who was happy with their hair—if it was straight they wanted it curly, if it was curly they wished it was straight. But he knew for Sarah, it was more than that. If she’d been blonde, McLeod would have accepted her. Hell, society would have accepted her. More than one man had judged him by the shape of his nose and the color of his hair.
He met her gaze in the mirror. “You’re a beautiful woman, Sarah. I’m guessin’ anyone who says otherwise is a woman, not a man.”
Breaking his gaze, she shook her head. “Not always.”
“Then they’ve got nothing beneath their hats but hair.” He set down the brush and cupped her chin with his fingers, lifting it until she met his gaze in the mirror once more. “People who judge you don’t know you. And their opinion ain’t worth squat. You’re a good woman, Sarah. You’re a good wife and a good friend.”
“You’re a good man too, Jackson.” She rested her cheek against his belly, her hair whispering over his cock in a silken caress. When she squirmed, he frowned. The room was far from chilly, but he didn’t want her to come down with a fever either. “What’s the matter? Are you cold?”
“No, sitting here like this. It’s…wanton.”
Wanton. Good word. And precisely what he needed to ease his tensions.
“There ain’t nothing wrong with being wanton with your husband. I like knowin’ you’re naked just for me.” He trickled her hair through his fingers so it curled over her breast. Her nipple beaded into a tight bud with the silken caress. Damn, she was responsive. “Do you know how it excites a man to know his woman will respond to his touch?”
He cupped her other breast and brushed his thumb over the nipple that immediately tightened to match its twin. He didn’t miss how her lips parted or her breath hitched. “You’re made for a man’s pleasure.”
Her eyes half-closed, she pushed her breast into his hand and rubbed. She made a soft sound like a cat purring. “Maybe you’re made for my pleasure.”
Minx. Just when he figured she was shy, she surprised him. “You may be right.”
Her hand covered his, pushing his fingers to pinch her nipple. Chuckling, he obliged. “Like that, do you?”
“Mmm.” Her eyes closed as she leaned her head against his belly. “I love how strong you are.”
She liked him strong. He pulled her nipple and tweaked it harder than she had before. As he’d expected, she groaned in pleasure.
He captured her hand and slid it over her belly until it rested on her mound. “Touch yourself, Sarah. Show me what you like.”
It was a game they’d played before. At first she’d been hesitant, but under his tutelage she’d grown confident in pleasuring herself for him. He enjoyed watching her part her folds so he could see her oval opening. Her fingers glistened with her juices, juices that let them slide easier through her dark pink flesh.
“Watch yourself in the mirror while you’re doin’ it. See what I see.”
He paid less attention to what she was doing down there than he did to her reactions, to the way her breath quickened and back arched, to the soft moans signaling she was coming close to release.
“Jackson, please.” Her eyes found his in their reflection. “I want you inside me this time.”
This time. Which meant she’d been forced to find her own pleasure without him. Nate was right. He’d ignored her for too long.
“How do you want me, darlin’? Do you want to ride me, or do you want me coming from behind?” It hadn’t taken him long to discover those were her favorite positions.
“I don’t care. I just want you inside me. Filling me. Please.”
He lifted her from the chair and arranged the cheval mirror so she’d still be able to watch them. He took her place, then pulled her down to straddle him. “Ride me.”
Her glance darted between the image in the mirror and his cock as she positioned her entrance over him. Her head fell back, exposing the long length of neck as she lowered herself onto his length in a slow, torturous slide.
Holy hell, she was so hot, so ready for him. Why the hell had he denied himself this pleasure for so long? He was a damned fool.
They worked together, her undulating over him, taking him deep into her body then lifting until only the sensitive head of his cock remained inside, then engulfing him once more. He played with her breasts, watching her reactions, feeling them in the play of her muscles surrounding his cock.
As she approached her release, he let go of one breast and slipped his hand between her folds and found that sensitive spot. Her body shuddered, so close to release. He pinched her clit, flicked it with his thumb. At first he’d worried that he might hurt her. Other women had objected when he’d touched them like this, but not his Sarah.
“Harder!”
Her half-shouted demand resounded right down to his balls. They drew up tight to his body. She wanted harder, he’d give her harder. He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her. He slipped out of her when he stood, so he wasted no time in turning her around and depositing her on her back on the bed.
Her legs fell to either side of his legs, her body open to him, her pussy glistening and swollen as she tilted her hips toward him in invitation.
“Are you sure you want this?” Damn, his voice sounded rough, like he’d been sucking in smoke from a campfire all night.
“Yes.” Her breathy response twined with her musky scent, driving his body plumb crazy with need.
“Reach up and grab the headboard, and whatever you do, don’t let go.”
Her eyes sparkled. “What will happen if I do?”
She thought he was joking? “I’ll turn you over and spank your ass until it’s rosy red, then I’ll fuck it. Hard.”
Damned if her whole body didn’t shudder in arousal. Dear Lord in heaven, she liked the idea. “Do what I tell you, Sarah.”
Still she hesitated. “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to hold on, Jackson. I want to touch you too.”
“If you do, I’ll lose control and this will be over too fast.” Because she’d be too sore from him fucking her the way he wanted.
The moment her hands clenched around the wrought iron struts, he widened her thighs with a grip that would probably leave a mark, then slammed his cock into her pussy. They both groaned once he was buried so deep within her his balls hit her ass.
He looked down at the spot where they joined, her so open to him, so vulnerable.
“Jackson.” Her hips lifted, pressing him deeper than he thought possible. The hellcat wasn’t making a plea, she was making a demand.
Any hesitation he had that she might object vanished. He gave into his wilder side and pistoned his hips. He pounded into her. Again and again and again.
When she thought he couldn’t get any deeper, he pressed her knees over her chest, stretching her tender skin over her mound. The crisp hair on his groin rasped across her clit with a wickedly delicious friction.
The bedframe bounced off the walls, and his grunts as he crashed into her faded into the distance. She’d never seen him lose such control, forget to treat her like a china doll. He was all man, hard planes and dark desires. Any doubts she’d had in the past few weeks about his desire for her disappeared like wisps
of smoke in a spring twister.
Her body heated, softened, as the head of his cock slid over some part inside her. Her muscles clamped around him, increasing the pressure, her body jerking in time with his pumping. Then his hand snaked between them and touched that special spot between her folds and set off an explosion inside.
When the spasms finally quieted, she let go of the headboard. With a gentle touch, she stroked Jackson’s shoulders as he held himself rigid, his cock still firm and pulsing as he spent the last of his seed. His eyes were scrunched closed, a fierce look on his face as if he was in pain. Then all of a sudden he relaxed and slumped on top of her.
“You let go,” he choked out. “Bad girl.”
Instead of spanking her as he’d promised, he buried his face in the crook of her shoulder and slid his arms beneath her, holding her in a grasp so tight she almost couldn’t breathe.
She nuzzled her mouth against his neck, her tongue darting out to taste his salt-tinged skin. Her fingers trailed patterns over his shoulders and down his spine until they reached his behind. She couldn’t resist cupping it, squeezing it.
“I’m sorry if I hurt you.” He rolled her until she lay spread on top of him.
Her arms planted on either side of his chest, she lifted off of him to shake her head. “No, you didn’t hurt me. I enjoyed it. I made you realize that I’m not a china doll.”
Maybe that’s also partly why he’d not touched her for the past month. Maybe he was afraid he’d hurt her the last time they’d made love?
He dragged the back of one knuckle down her jaw. “Is that what I’ve been doin’?”
She nodded. “I liked that I can make you lose control like that. It makes me feel…powerful.”
“Me telling you to hold on or I’ll fuck your ass makes you feel powerful?” He squinted at her, doubt filling his voice.
Put that way, perhaps not, but still she grinned and nodded. “I can’t explain why, but yes.”
He made a noise in the back of the throat that told her he didn’t believe her. Yet he cupped her breast and tweaked the nipple harder than he usually did, sending a streak of heat straight down to her pussy. “You do like it when I’m rougher, don’t you?”