Molly in the Middle

by Stobie Piel

  She clasped her lower lip between her teeth to keep herself still. She knew what he would do, tease her and torment her until she writhed. She knew it, but his touch still came like a fiery shock. He delved beneath her woman's fold, inward, then back to the small peak that crowned her desire. The small peak came wantonly to life, commanding all her being as it rose against his finger.

  His eyes never left her face. He seemed to cherish her reactions, and she could hide nothing from his sight. His finger moved in slow, torturous circles, one way, then the other. It slipped up and down, barely grazing, then with increased pressure. She twisted beneath him, her back arched of its own accord.

  He moved closer, then wrapped her legs around his waist. He held his staff in his hand and positioned it over her woman's mound. Its heat caressed her, smooth and hard, as he angled his hips against her. His staff rubbed against her small peak, and she cried out with fierce pleasure.

  It pleased him, too. His hips moved in greater abandon. He sank down over her, bracing his arms on either side of her body. His new position afforded better contact, and the friction between their bodies increased.

  Miren's legs tightened around him. She arched and squirmed, seeking. He seemed to understand, because he moved harder against her. Still not within. She wanted him within. She felt sure of it now. He would fit. She would make him fit.

  ''Nathan . . . More, please."

  He chuckled, probably because she was politely asking, rather than issuing a fierce demand. He rested his forehead on hers, then sat up. Miren puffed an exasperated breath. "Don't you dare!"

  He smiled. He gripped his length and moved it purposefully against her. Dizzying waves of pleasure coursed through her. "You can play, Miren. This is for you."

  She wasn't sure what he meant, but she decided the matterherself. She seized his staff and held it against her entrance, then pleasured herself as she saw fit. He allowed her control, he even clasped her hips in his hands to support her activity. It proved such wanton delight, Miren couldn't stop. Her pace quickened. Her hips twisted and circled and sought mindless release. Her senses spiraled, congealing and aiming toward greater heights.

  Her control fragmented. He wrapped his hand over hers and positioned himself at her entrance. She cried out his name, she arched beneath him, and his swollen tip delved inside her. He filled her entrance, and it triggered a shattering response. Waves and waves of rapture coursed through her, sparkling through her loins, surging even into her toes. Her legs clamped tight around him as her ecstasy shuddered through her body, around his.

  He should be deep within her. Instead he withdrew suddenly, even as she arched to draw him inside. A hot, liquid pulse met her sensitive flesh, spilling against her thighs as he groaned and murmured her name.

  Miren watched his face. His eyes were closed, his whole face strained as his body quivered above her. His rapture lingered, then abated, and he lowered above her, his breath so swift and shallow that Miren thought he might faint.

  She trembled violently beneath him, shocked by the suddenness of her release, of its power to surround her, and own her, and send her to some limitless plain she didn't know existed until now. Nathan seemed shocked, too. Miren softened his hair and drew him down to her. She kissed his face, and held him against her body. She wanted his full weight, but he braced himself on his elbows instead.

  They lay together, silent, breath mingling as their hearts pounded an even descent. He rolled off her and gathered her into his arms. Miren kissed his shoulder, but she didn't know what to say. Her whole body tingled in the aftermath. She felt weak, but satisfied. Almost satisfied. A tiny frown crept to her lips.

  "There is a place deep inside me that you missed."

  Strange, how practical she sounded even now. Nathan twisted his head to look at her. He looked . . . amazed. "Is there?"

  She nodded. "I believe so."

  "I didn't 'miss.' Despite what we've just done here, you remain a virgin. There's little chance you bear my child. I protected you, woman."

  Miren eyed him doubtfully. "I don't recall asking for your protection."

  "You were well past issuing requests."

  Miren fell silent a moment, pondering his restraint. She didn't want him to have restraint. She'd abandoned hers, after all. "The satisfaction is not complete."

  "You are a demanding wench. You look satisfied to me."

  "I am pleased, that is true. I am tingling in all parts of myself. My toes even feel the sensation. But there is somewhere, as I said, quite deep"

  "Quiet, woman. I protected you. Sexual release covers your whole body."

  "Yes. Yes, so it does. I shall be content. For a while. I can't help thinking, though, that deeper penetration on your part might be enjoyable."

  "It might." Nathan cleared his throat. "Miren, nothing has changed. We lost control. Maybe it had to happen. We've been headed for this since we met. But I won't put you at further risk. Your virginity remains intact. I haven't really damaged you."

  Nathan's proclamation grated, but Miren restrained her annoyance. "No, you haven't. If I have a husband in the future, he will be the first to attain that deep portion which you successfully avoided."

  Nathan's jaw set hard, but he didn't comment.

  "I can present myself as a virgin." Miren paused. "I won't, of course, because that would be dishonest. I shall tell him what you and I did here, before he marries me. That isonly fair." She peeked up. Nathan glowered, his lips looked tight. "Do you think it will bother him, despite the fact I remain a virgin?"

  "I don't know."

  "You sound sullen. It was your idea."

  "I cannot believe that you are planning your wedding only moments after we made love."

  "Almost made love."

  Nathan twisted in bed to face her. "Making love isn't determined by whether or not there was deep penetration, woman."

  "I stand corrected."

  "You are a torment."

  Her eyelids lowered. "It pleases me. Almost as much as you do."

  Nathan sank back in the bed and exhaled a long, shuddering breath. He folded his hands on his chest and sighed again. "You please me, too."

  Miren woke with a start and sat up in bed. "Nathan!"

  He sat up, too. Ready to fight and defend her. He fumbled with the sheets. "What is it? Did you hear something? Is someone outside?" His words slurred as he fought against sleep. Miren patted his shoulder.

  "Calm yourself, Indian. There's no one out there."

  "Then why"he paused to control himself"why did you wake me as if the cottage was on fire?"

  "Molly. I forgot all about her."

  Nathan flopped back down in bed. "What of it?"

  "I've never forgotten her before. I left her outside. She must be so hurt." Tears started in Miren's eyes.

  Nathan yawned and closed his eyes. "Give her an extra cookie in the morning."

  "You have to check on her."

  Nathan opened one eye. "I have to check on her?"

  "I'm naked."

  "So am I."

  "Yes, but you're a man."

  "What does that have to do with anything?"

  Miren wasn't entirely sure. Also, the room was cold. A light patter on the thatched roof indicated rain had begun again. "Men can be naked. Women can't."

  He looked as if he wanted to argue but suspected he might lose. Miren kept her expression straight, as if her request was perfectly normal. Nathan sighed heavily, fueled by self-pity, then rose with undue labor. He groaned as he left the bed, hissed when he opened the door and rainy wind blew in, then stuck his head out the door.

  "Molly! Get in here."

  No response. Miren tensed with worry. "Where's Flip? He always sleeps by the door."

  "It's pouring, woman. They're probably in the byre."

  "You'd better check."

  He closed the door, stumbled over something and swore. A chair. He set it right, then seized Miren's lantern. He went to the byre and looked in. Miren waited impati
ently. "Well? Are they in there?"

  He returned, closed the door, and crawled back in bed. "They're in there."

  "You should have let her in."

  "I don't think she's interested tonight, Miren. They're . . . occupied."

  "What do you mean, 'occupied'?"

  "I mean you can probably expect a litter of half-slackabout, half-sheepdog in the near future."

  Miren beamed and clasped her hands like a grandmother. "Truly? Puppies! Nathan, are you sure?"

  "Some things, my sweet, are mistakable. This isn't one."

  Miren nodded and lay back down beside him. "How romantic!"

  Nathan rolled his eyes. "Go to sleep."

  His arm flopped over her, and he kissed her forehead.

  Miren snuggled closer against him. She felt safe, cared for. She wondered if his gentle treatment was typical of a man's actions toward his mistress. Miren listened to his slow, even heartbeat as he drifted back to sleep. The rain fell in gentle tandem, and for this night, she abandoned all doubt. She might not have him forever, but tonight, to lie safe in his arms was enough.

  "Trouble's brewing, lad! Get yourself out here!"

  Nathan woke and swore. "He can't stand to let me rest . . ."

  Miren rolled over and snuggled close to him. "Tell him to go away." She pressed a soft, leisurely kiss on his shoulder. Nathan's pulse quickened.

  "Can't it wait, Simon?"

  "No, it can't wait." Simon's voice mocked Nathan's. "Get out here!"

  Nathan forced himself from Miren's side. She lay on her back, arms casually over her head, smiling. Her light brown hair spread out across the pillow. He wanted her. He had to restrain himself, as much for her sake as his own. Another night of passion might see his control shattered beyond recall.

  Nathan dressed, then went to the door. He stood on the threshold, barring Simon entrance. "Miren isn't ready for visitors."

  "Ain't a visitor, lad." Simon turned and gestured to another man. Nathan recognized the cutlery merchant from Inveraray Market. The merchant nodded, and Nathan offered a weak smile.

  "Good morning, sir. Thank you for agreeing to assist us."

  "Pleased to oblige, laird. 'Specially if we're sticking trouble to an Englishman."

  "That remains to be seen."

  The merchant looked around, seeming eager. "Where's this fellow? I'll be needing a good look at him."

  Miren emerged from the cottage, doing up her long hair ina loose bun. The merchant doffed his cap, although Simon eyed her suspiciously. "You're looking spry this morning, lass."

  Miren sighed. "I had a good sleep."

  Nathan's face felt warm. He cleared his throat and eased her to his side. "We're going up to the manor to pay a call on Brent. Join us."

  He couldn't leave her alone, but this meeting required both himself and Simon. Nathan held out his arm, and she took it. "Proceed."

  Lady MacCallum was breakfasting alone. "Dear Brent left early this morning on another of his hunting trips. He won't be back for at least a week, although he has promised to meet us at the Highland Games in Oban. He encouraged me to stay here, but of course, that is impossible. Her Majesty will be expecting my presence. I shall travel with the duke and his wife, however. You may use the coach."

  Nathan sighed. Brent Edgington remained one step ahead. Nathan invented an excuse for the merchant's presence as Lady MacCallum set aside her tea. She fixed her gaze on the merchant, who looked uncomfortable. "Have we guests?"

  "Mr. Shaw is here to view our collection of dirks and swords. And he's brought some wares of his own."

  Irene angled her thin brow. "Indeed."

  The merchant bowed, twice. "That I am, Your Ladyship. Figuring I might make an offer on a few pieces."

  "Nothing in our collection is for sale."

  Nathan placed his hand on the merchant's back. "Actually, I'm considering a purchase myself. I understood each MacCallum laird has added something to the collection."

  The merchant brightened and clapped his hands. "I have just the thing!"

  Nathan spent enough on one small sgian-dhu to purchase a race horse. He stood at the manor entrance, glaring as the merchant departed. Miren stood beside him, chuckling.

  "You're quite a haggler. Perhaps you should go into business."

  "The man is a pirate."

  Miren hummed. "You should know."

  Lady MacCallum stood on the bottom step with Muffin, awaiting the coach. "I shall be spending the day at Inveraray Castle, as a special guest at a private tea hosted by the duke." She cast a cold glance Miren's way. "I'm sorry they didn't think to invite you, Miren."

  Miren nodded. "I shall endure the disgrace." She seemed pert. Happy. Lady MacCallum fumed. Nathan chuckled.

  Grainger brought the coach around, then assisted Lady MacCallum to her seat. She clutched Muffin on her lap, but her eyes were still fixed on Miren. The vengeful look seemed unwarranted by the situation. Nathan found himself taking Miren's hand and squeezing reassurance.

  Miren didn't appear troubled. She angled her head as the coach departed and issued a derisive snort. "What a crone! If she were just a speck bigger, I'd be sure she's the one who attacked me."

  Simon joined them on the steps and raised a crowbar. "Since the old hag's on her way, we'll check on this trunk you found. Lass, you come with us, and we'll see what young Brent is hiding."

  "It's gone!" Miren stomped around through the woods. "It was here. Nathan, you saw it. Wasn't it here?"

  Nathan looked around, gauging the distance from the meadow. He'd been so frantic, terrified that something had happened to her, he hadn't noticed their exact position. He'd seen her kick the trunk, he'd heard her curse as she struggled to open it. And his heart had beat with such fury and relief that his knees had threatened to give way.

  "My memory isn't exact."

  "Well, mine is." She stood with her hands on her hips, a tight frown knitting her small, lovely face. She kicked at astump, then waved her arms. Something caught her eye, and she marched through the trees. "There! It was right here."

  Miren pointed to a flat, square spot on the ground where leaves had been crushed beneath a heavy weight. Nathan knelt to study the surface. "It was here."

  "Damn! He moved it!"

  Simon clucked his tongue. "Language, lass. Don't be for-getting, they're keeping tabs up in the Beyond."

  Miren rolled her eyes. "I hope they're 'keeping tabs' on Brent Edgington. We'll never know what he's keeping in that trunk. It's my fault. He must have seen me, after all, and guessed we were on to him."

  Simon nodded. "Took off in a hurry, didn't he? And he's not coming back 'til after the Games. That boy ain't no more off hunting than I am a sparrow."

  Nathan looked toward the meadow. "Brent had this trip planned before Miren found his trunk." Nathan ran his fingers along the crushed earth. "Does Brent Edgington strike either of you as a powerful man?"

  Simon grimaced and snorted. Miren looked thoughtful, then sympathetic. "I wouldn't describe him as powerful, no. Why do you mention it?"

  "Whoever moved this trunk was strong enough to lift it and carry it out of here. See . . ." Nathan pointed around the vicinity. "No signs of dragging. That trunk wasn't small. It had iron trim. For one man to move it at all"

  Miren brightened. "Two men!"

  Nathan stood up. "That seems reasonable."

  Simon kicked at the flattened dirt and dried leaves. "Fellow like young Brent's likely to have an accomplice. Someone he's paying to do the dirty work. Just as he paid Patterson to do in the old laird."

  Miren's face twisted to one side as she considered this. "Dr. Patterson was fond of money, it's true. He liked the prestige and power. What I find odd is that he'd make a mistake, such as dying in the fire."

  "Smoke catches up to a man, lass. Probably thought he'd get out easier."

  "If he escaped, why didn't Laird MacCallum or Nathan's brother?"

  Simon hesitated. "That's a fair question, lass, and one I asked myself at the
time. Looked to me like two of the dead men hadn't put up a fight nor tried to escape at all."

  "Could he have shot them first?"

  "Didn't find no sign of it. Bullets, they'd last through the blaze and show up in the aftermath. What I'm thinking is he poisoned them. He was a doctor, maybe he put them into a sleep first."

  "Then how did he get caught in the fire himself?"

  Nathan resisted the memory, but he had returned to the site with Simon. "There were three bodies. One lay beneath a charred door. It appears that the door caved in when Patterson tried to leave."

  "Odd that he'd wait that long."

  Nathan sighed. "No other explanation seemed likely. If you have one, I'd be happy to hear it."

  Miren turned to Simon. She looked like a detective, eyes narrow, practical brain at work. "Was there anyone else around?"

  Simon puffed an impatient, perturbed breath. "No, there weren't, lass. Had a young fellow guide us into David's farm, but he took off the first day."

  "Then you're right. It had to be Patterson."

  Simon snorted. "Thank you for telling us what we already knew."

  "It still seems strange." Miren considered the matter a while. "How do you know it was Dr. Patterson who instigated their deaths?"

  "Two of the charred bodies were piled together in a heap with kindling. That fire were started a'purpose, and on men who were already dead, or near to it."

  Miren grimaced. ''I don't require the full details, Simon. Was there anything else?"

  "I found a campsite tucked back in the woods, where he'd hidden all sorts of gear, kerosene, tools. That's where I found the MacCallum badge pinched in his fingers. Figuring he stole it to prove to his accomplice back here that he'd gotten the job done."

  "I see. Disgusting, but plausible." Miren eyed Nathan. "And you think Brent was behind this?"

  Nathan ran over the evidence in his mind. He'd heard the story from Simon, but basing his investigation on the high-strung Scotsman's word still seemed tenuous. But David was dead, and the most likely reason was that his inheritance proved a threat to someone. "It points to Brent Edgington, yes."

  Miren's lip curled at one side. "Why would he want to kidnap me?"

  Nathan frowned. "We have no idea what he, or anyone, wanted that night, Miren."