An Inescapable Attraction

by Sydney Jane Baily

  For an answer, Ellie turned her face into his palm and kissed it, as he had done hers. The sensation of her lips on his skin made him catch his breath. Then she released him.

  He slipped both of his hands beneath his coat, which she still wore, and circled his fingers at her waist, pulling her against him, then lifting her high against his body until he had to look up at her.

  She stared down at him with bright, expectant eyes and a small smile on her lips.

  Deliberately, slowly, he slid her down his front, letting her feel his hard physique against her pliant one, his erect manhood against her softness. She rested her hands on his shoulders as he brought her face even with his, then he claimed her mouth again.

  When at last, he set her down so her feet touched the ground, he deepened the kiss and felt her hands slide from his shoulders to his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

  Intoxicated by her, he groaned, pulling back enough so he could look down into her eyes.

  "Yes," Ellie whispered, in case he was still in any doubt.

  And just like that, a weight lifted from his shoulders. Riley was long out of the picture and though Ellie legally had a husband, she didn't love him. In that moment, they had only each other to worry about or to please. And he intended to please her. He started by slipping his coat off her shoulders and sending it flying across the room.

  Before he could pull Ellie close again, however, she danced out of his reach, grasping her purple skirt between her fingers and looking down at herself. His gaze followed. The dress was too big, gaping at the neckline and dragging over her feet.

  However, it was the diaphanous quality of the material that made it outrageous, unless it was meant for wearing solely in the bedroom. Then he deemed it extremely suitable. Thaddeus quite liked the tempting glimpses of soft curves that vanished again as she moved.

  "Let me get out of this dress," Ellie said. "I've felt like a strumpet all day."

  "You look like a princess in whatever you wear," he avowed, "but later, I'll find you something else to travel in."

  He trailed off as she untied the silken sash at her waist and slipped the scandalously transparent gown off her shoulders. It hung a moment on her hips and then fell to the floor, along with the diamond ring, which made a clinking sound as it dropped, rolled, and came to rest by his feet.

  He expelled his breath in a rush and couldn't seem to draw in another. She was naked. Stark naked in front of him. Then perhaps out of shyness, perhaps out of eagerness, she stepped from the pile of clothing and moved right up against him, circling her arms around his neck. It was the most sinfully arousing experience he'd ever had—her, absolutely bare, and him, fully clothed.

  He ran his hands over her shoulders, down her arms, across her back, and then came to a stop by cupping her buttocks and pulling her snugly onto his rigid shaft.

  For long minutes, they did nothing but kiss. Then he set her back and looked down at her.

  "You are so perfect," he whispered, rubbing his thumbs across her nipples, which pearled in response.

  "I always thought you were, too," she said matter-of-factly, giving him the cutest of crooked smiles, and her hands went to his shirt, unbuttoning and sliding it open. He pulled it from his waistband and shrugged out of it, then reached for her warm, silky skin.

  "I love your calloused hands," she said visibly shivering as he skimmed his palms over her hips and up her body.

  "I love your soft ones," he countered, and she ran them across his chest though he could think of other places he'd like her to touch.

  As if reading his mind, Ellie slipped her fingers down over his taut stomach to his gun belt and unbuckled it. He caught it before it hit the floor and lowered it down, nudging it out of the way with the toe of his boot. Then he wished he'd done as she'd asked earlier and removed his boots, for now he had to stop and do so, hopping around as he pulled them off before tossing them aside.

  As soon as he stood before her again, she began unfastening his fly.

  Her unpracticed hands trembled, but he was helpless to do anything more than watch, fascinated at seeing her slender fingers stripping him. He had dreamed of this a hundred times.

  He sprung free, proudly standing out like a single-barreled shotgun, and she hesitated. At that point, he tugged his pants the rest of the way down and stepped out of them. Pressing the length of his body against hers, he dropped his head to the satin skin of her neck and nuzzled it.

  "I want to feel you inside of me again," she said, "like in the barn."

  He lifted his head at her and raised an eyebrow.

  "No, I mean the first time—in your barn. Not in the recent barn, when we only touched."

  "Maybe we should give up on barns and vow to make love in beds from now on."

  Was there going to be a "from now on"? For his part, he assumed there would be and welcomed the assumption.

  She turned pink and smiled sweetly. "I don't know. Let's see if I like it first."

  Growling at her playful words, Thaddeus swept her off her feet and laid her gently in the middle of the bed. Straddling her hips, he looked down at her body and grinned.

  "What?" she asked.

  "Better than looking down at Lucky."

  She started to struggle in outrage.

  "I'm only jesting, Ellie. Lie still. We're making up for lost time, remember?"

  She quietened, eyes big, staring, watching, waiting.

  At last, Ellie lay completely exposed beneath him. He almost didn't know where to start. Almost. His instincts took over.

  After allowing himself the indulgence of gazing uninterrupted on her upturned breasts and dusky pink nipples, which had been playing peekaboo all day at the top of Jo's shocking gown, he reached out to touch her with his fingertips. From the hollow at her throat, down between her breasts, he traced feathery touches over her silken skin.

  She arched off the bed as he slid his hands lower, across the flat of her stomach to her small navel that begged to be kissed. Why not? Right now, she was his.

  Moving down her heated body, he slipped his arm under her back, splaying his fingers across her spine to hold her in position. Then wickedly, he flicked his tongue into her navel, feeling his groin tighten as she murmured some indiscernible sounds.

  Licking a trail from her navel, down to her silken thatch, he halted when suddenly her hands fisted in his hair, tugging him upward, at the same time as her body stiffened.

  Hm, she wasn't yet ready for such a pleasurable intimacy. He'd give in this time, but eventually, she'd let him feast on her; he just had to take it more slowly.

  Still, he needed to have his mouth on her skin. Working his way upward, he kissed her flat stomach and the underswell of each breast, before nuzzling the valley between them.

  She fairly purred and stretched her arms up over her head.

  He took advantage of her breasts thrusting up at him. Her nipples, already puckered from his regard alone, now turned to pebbles as he lowered his mouth. He circled one pink bud, flicking it with his tongue, making her breath catch before he teased her with his teeth.

  This time, he felt her pelvis trying to arch under him, and he suckled in earnest at the stiffening peak.

  "Thaddeus," she murmured his name. "Don't stop."

  He had no intention of doing anything so idiotic. He simply moved his sensual ministrations to her other nipple, relishing her throaty sounds of appreciation.

  She wrapped her fingers in his hair once again, this time to anchor him there, making him chuckle against her skin.

  "I've wanted to kiss your breasts like this forever," he said, nuzzling her shoulder.

  She giggled—giving him the invitation he needed to lower his head once more and lick the shadowed valley between her mounds.

  Unhurriedly, dropping his hand to the smooth skin of her stomach, he moved his fingers down between their bodies. He placed his palm over her womanly core, and instantly, she pressed back. Feeling her heat and dampness, he
couldn't refrain from stroking her.

  Are you sure you want to do this? he nearly asked, but managed to stop himself from uttering such a stupid question. Her breath came in hard draws, and the lightest sheen of moisture graced her upper lip; her pupils looked bigger and darker to him than they ever had, and she bit her lower lip. If ever a woman looked like she wanted him, she did.

  He eased himself between her parted thighs, feeling her soft curls against his lower belly as he placed open-mouthed kisses down her throat. He wanted to take it slowly and do it right—especially if she had a memory that she'd carried, as she said, for years of some terribly quick grappling that probably in no way came close to satisfying her own desires. It was a wonder she wanted to do it again at all. Ever.

  He intended to do much better this time.

  She moaned as his finger dipped into the slickness at the juncture of her thighs and his lips grazed the sensitive skin of her neck. Her head bowed gracefully back, her eyes closed.

  He smiled. Definitely doing better. And he was burning every moment of this seduction into his brain so he'd never forget a second of it.

  He stroked her again, one finger delving lightly between her soft petals, until she began to shudder. So sensual, so ardent, she was close to climaxing, as she'd done in the hayloft. This time, he intended to be deep inside her when she did. He raised himself up and seated the head of his shaft at her opening.

  "Open your eyes," he commanded. She did so, her blue gaze locking with his green one. "Just while I enter you, darlin'."

  It wasn't that he thought she would forget who was making love to her, but he wanted to see inside her at that precise moment when they joined, the same moment he'd squandered so carelessly years earlier. He intended to imprint this memory more forcefully than whatever he'd done with her before.

  Pressing his hips forward, he eased into her snug passage, still unsure that he could have been there before, so restricted was she.

  "Are you sure we did this?" he managed to grind out, scarcely making any progress, as above all, he didn't want to hurt her.

  "Thaddeus," she said, "Shut. Up."

  He didn't smile, though he wanted to. He continued to enter her gradually, though her grasp on his arms urged him to move faster. At last, he was seated in her so deeply, their hips were pressed together. Trying hard not to put all his weight on her, he rolled slightly onto his left shoulder so he could get his hands under her rear end and tilt her, adjusting the angle so they were even more closely melded. As he did so, she sighed.

  "That's good," she murmured.

  "We're not done yet," he said into the crook of her neck, beginning to pull slowly out of her.

  "Thaddeus?"

  Oh, God, was she going to start giving him orders?

  "Hm," he said, against her neck.

  She ruffled his hair. "We can't look into each other's eyes unless you lift your head up."

  She was still directing him. He grinned. That was Ellie. He licked the skin at her throat, making her gasp again. Then he raised himself up to rest on his forearms.

  "All right, woman," he said, ducking to kiss her lips before lifting his head and looking her squarely in the eye. "You can look right at my face, while I make love to you."

  He pulled out unhurriedly, watching the spark flare in her eyes. She was so tight, it seemed her passage was tugging him back. It was exquisite. When he was nearly crowning, he reversed direction and slid back along her sensitive tunnel.

  She bit her lip and spoke no more. But she panted and then she moaned, and when he used one hand to stroke her swollen nubbin, she cried out with pleasure. He was thrusting steadily by this time, feeling a sheen of sweat on his back.

  All the years slipped away, and he and Ellie were right where he'd always wanted them to be. He quickened his pace, gliding in and out of her, feeling her body respond, watching her breasts dance tantalizingly with each of his thrusts.

  Her body tensed and her eyes darkened, or so it seemed, and she parted her lips, sucking her lower one into her mouth, biting it.

  He was captivated by each tiny movement and every sound she made, by everything her body was doing. Compelled to kiss her again, he realized he'd never made love to a woman while kissing her, never felt her climax around him while his lips were sealed to hers.

  All at once, her eyes fluttered closed and he felt her stiffen, then her female muscles clenched around his shaft, squeezing and clasping, until he saw glorious stars. He wanted her to be totally gratified before he let himself go, though it was getting harder by the second to maintain control.

  At last, as the trembling in her body peaked and began to subside, he surged into her again, sheathing himself in her close-fitting heat for a few seconds longer. Then he pulled out of her warmth and spilled his seed in an arc beside them on the bed. When his body was spent, he slumped beside her and gathered her in his arms.

  For a moment, he could pretend they weren't in some strange hotel room. They could be in his barn in Spring City, and this could be their first time. It had been as damn near perfect as he'd ever had.

  "You OK?" he asked.

  She had a satisfied honeyed smile on her face, and her fair hair spread around her. Angel and vixen.

  "You were right," she murmured against his chest. "This was nothing like the first time."

  He smiled against her hair. He would take that as a yes.

  Chapter 9

  Thaddeus desperately needed to stretch his arm, which was pinned under Ellie, but he waited another excruciating ten minutes before he pulled free. He sat up. Their bed enveloped him in coziness, but he was getting too comfortable. He felt drugged by the heady sensations of sleeping next to Ellie's naked body. He needed to remember they were in danger and she was in reality another man's wife—an angry, powerful man, at that.

  He wanted a breath of air and a bracing drink. As quietly as possible, he slipped on his clothing, but as he placed his hand on the doorknob, she spoke.

  "Where're you going?"

  He sighed. "Go back to sleep, darlin'. I'm just going for a walk."

  "Wait, I'll get dressed and come with you."

  No, he needed to be alone. Didn't he? A part of him, maybe too big a part, wanted to slip back into the bed and hold her warm, pliant body against his and never let go. But that wasn't realistic. He had to think and have a drink and maybe a smoke.

  Turning around and sounding harsher than he felt, he said, "Good God, woman, let a man have some freedom."

  Her eyes widened, but she didn't meekly settle back into the bed, chastised.

  "Freedom is it?" She sat up, gathering the sheets and clutching them around herself. "Why doesn't that surprise me? You've taken my virginity—twice," she added with a hiss, "and now you need some freedom. Where was that freedom a few hours ago when you were all over me like a snake's skin?"

  "You can't lose your virginity twice!" he corrected. As soon as he did, seeing her start to seethe, he knew it was a stupid mistake.

  He sighed. Why hadn't he pretended that he hadn't heard her speak and simply walked out?

  "Oh!" She tossed a pillow at him with as much force as she could muster.

  He laughed. That was wrong, too. She looked so beautiful with her hair mussed and her eyes blazing angry at him. But no way was he going to wait while she dressed and fixed her hair and asked him a million questions.

  And he didn't really want to take a walk. He wanted a drink.

  "Ellie, I am going out this door. Alone."

  "Good. Why don't you just stay out! Don't bother coming back."

  He rolled his eyes. "I'll be back. Don't you worry."

  Closing the door on her still furiously muttering to herself, he felt uneasy. Women were delicate creatures and he'd handled that badly, but he had no idea how he could've made that any better and still got out by myself. He'd noticed The Wagon Wheel saloon on the next block when they'd entered town, so now he made a beeline for it. So much for fresh air.

  Rejuven
ated by his first sip of whisky, Thaddeus wondered at his need to escape the hotel room. If he'd stayed even another moment, with her fizzing at him like an angry bumblebee, he'd have leaped back in bed and rolled her under him—she looked so unbelievably appealing. Why did that scare him?

  He took another sip. He had to fight the hold she had on him. But why fight? Because the alternative was surrender, giving in to her power to control him and to hurt him. Yup, that was a lot scarier than taking a bullet.

  Two stools down, hunched over the bar, sat a man in a dark hat, an old cowboy maybe, who looked like he'd been bending his elbow at the bar for hours. Thaddeus had never been like him, except for the first time he'd gone for a drink after leaving Spring City and Ellie and Riley behind. Then he'd sat in a saloon in Denver, getting all roostered up with whisky and trying to forget his dreams.

  When he'd awakened in an alley with no recollection of having got there and with all his money gone, he knew that wasn't the right path for him. Since then, he drank in moderation, never in excess, and usually in good company while playing cards.

  Tonight, however, he enjoyed being by himself and he didn't feel like gambling. He knew he'd be no good at poker, not with his head full of one ornery woman.

  Ellie was everything he'd always believed her to be: smart, witty, sometimes crabby, mostly good company, and as sexy and passionate as any woman he'd ever had the privilege of knowing. Only more so. He almost groaned out loud thinking of how it had been to finally take her as his own.

  Except she wasn't his. The constant companionship and the pretense of being married had made him think of her that way, but she wasn't. More to the point, he didn't want her to be his, did he? His worry, his responsibility, his to look after. Did he want her as his own? Did that mean spending every waking hour stuck together?

  True, being on Lucky was abnormally close quarters indeed, and a normal relationship wouldn't be like that. He didn't think so, anyway. But he didn't know for sure, never having had anything other than brief encounters with women who were not the type you married.