“Maverick’s right,” she said quickly, grasping Strawberry’s reins. “I’m going with him. If anyone can make it down through the Panhandle, I think it’s Maverick.”
They rode out, leaving the miserable hovel of adobe behind. They didn’t talk much as they headed straight south down through the stark, hostile Panhandle country.
She wiped at the perspiration soaking her boy’s shirt, glad she’d put her hair back up under her hat so the slight breeze could cool her neck. “I think a horny toad would have a hard time makin’ it out here,” she complained.
He took off his hat and wiped his dark face. “Not much besides mesquite, sagebrush, and rattlesnakes,” he agreed, patting Dust Devil’s lathered neck. “You know what they say about Texas. ’It’s great for men and dogs but hell on women and horses.’ ”
She regarded him coolly. “I believe it was one of your damned Yankee officers who complained that ’if he owned both hell and Texas, he’d rent out Texas and live in hell.’ ”
Maverick smiled sheepishly. “You can’t expect folks from up north to deal with all this vast space and heat until they’ve had a chance to get used to it.”
“I hope those carpetbaggers get out of Texas and let us deal with our own problems!”
Cayenne lost track of sunrises and sunsets as the pair traveled. The days became an endless glare of hot orange suns and purple shadows of evening. Sometimes Maverick seemed lost in thought, struggling with some inner conflict, and once she caught him staring at her with great passion as if he either loved her. . . . or hated her.
She wasn’t sure which because he said little and they rode in silence through the shimmering heat for hours without speaking. Nor did he make any advances toward her. Each slept wrapped in his own blanket at night with only a very small fire because he said he feared a passing war party might spot it. When they camped, he cautioned her about rattlesnakes that might be curled up in the cool recesses of rocks.
Then one day, Maverick saw smoke signals to the north. The next evening, to the south, they crossed the trail of unshod ponies.
Maverick leaned on his saddle horn, staring down at the faint tracks. “Masterson’s right, Cee Cee,” he grumbled as he studied the almost invisible marks. “I shouldn’t risk trying to get a woman through this hostile country. Why don’t I take you over to Fort Griffin and go on alone? If you’d give me the exact location of your family’s ranch, I’d check on your daddy’s health, send a message to you.”
“No,” she said. Why did she have a feeling he was hiding something? If she didn’t go with him, she’d have no way of knowing whether he might give up the whole thing and ride out of the Panhandle, go back to the Triple D. After all, there was no reason for him to get to McBride, Texas, except to accompany her. She. really hadn’t figured out why he had come along unless he felt guilty about taking her innocence without at least trying to help her with her problem. Texas cowboys were gallant like that.
“No,” she said again, shaking her head stubbornly. “You’re not dumping me at the fort. I’m going along with you. After all, it’s my papa who’s sick,” she lied.
“You hardheaded little Rebel,” he swore. “With all this Indian sign, it might be smart of me to masquerade as a Comanche warrior. I did it back in ’64 during the Great Outbreak down in the Hill Country.”
She ran her tongue over her dry lips. “You get some clothing off one of those dead Comanche back at the Walls?”
“Other things, too,” he nodded as he dismounted, digging in his saddlebags. “I took war paint, clothing from one of those dead Comanche braves,” he said, pulling items from the saddlebag. “I think we have a better chance if I cross this country as a Comanche, and you can be a captive I stole from some ranch.”
“My stars! What are you doing?” She was hot, tired, and annoyed as she watched him strip off his shirt and his boots. “Are you going to go around in nothing but beads and a breechcloth?”
He grinned and winked at her as he redressed as a warrior. “I sure am, Reb. I might just talk our way out of a mess if we run across a stray war party.”
She watched him smear the gaudy paint on his dark face. It was amazing how in seconds he was becoming a savage before her eyes. “Suppose we run into soldiers instead?”
He paused, looking at her. “In that case, you’ll have to save my bacon, baby Tell them I’m not really an Injun kidnapping you.”
“Suppose I don’t?” she asked pointedly, trying not to stare at his almost naked body. Maverick really looked like an authentic savage. Without her, he’d have a time convincing any white stranger that he wasn’t what he looked like—a half-naked, fierce Comanche brave bent on rape, pillage, and murder.
Maverick smiled thinly. “I guess I just have to trust that you’ll protect me from the soldiers, although it’s not likely we’ll run across a patrol in this isolated country. It’s too hot to ride through the heat of the afternoon. I see a few scattered willows off to the south; maybe we can camp and ride out again tonight.”
They found the small spring and the shade of the trees, and while Maverick slept, she sneaked off to strip down and wash the dust from her perspiring skin. She enjoyed herself so much, splashing in the water, that she forgot about where they were, the danger, until she had the sudden feeling she was being watched. She almost screamed in terror as she whirled around and saw the war-painted, half-naked Comanche brave leaning against a tree watching her. Just as she started to scream, she realized the savage had gray eyes.
“Maverick! You scared me to death!” she scolded, sinking down into the little pool to cover her nakedness. “You look enough like Quanah Parker in that outfit; you could be mistaken for him!”
“If I’d been a scout for a war party, you’d been dead by now,” he said grimly, but he kept staring at her, “or lying spread-eagled while a half dozen of them got their fill of that white skin.”
She blushed furiously at the image that came to her mind, an image of herself lying under a certain warrior and she wasn’t fighting him; she was digging her nails into his broad back, clinging to him, kissing the white scar down his left cheek.
“My stars!” she said. “As you’ve pointed out so ungallantly before, you’ve seen everything I’ve got. Come on in.”
“I intend to,” he said easily, stripping off the beads and breechcloth. He stood there naked a long moment, obviously wanting her to see him.
Cayenne tried to look away but she couldn’t keep her gaze off his maleness. He was a stallion of a man. Then he waded out waist-deep into the shallow pool toward her.
She ought to get out, leave him here to swim. But she didn’t. The tepid water washed against her bare skin as his movements sent ripples through the small pool. He reached out, pulling her up against his naked body in the water. She could feel the hard heat off him all the way from her breasts down her thighs.
“No, Maverick,” she protested.
Immediately, he let go of her, stepped back, and chastened. “Okay, baby, whatever you want. Reckon I misunderstood. If I ever touch you again, believe me, you’ll have to beg for it!”
“Why, you conceited—!” She stepped away, even though in her heart, she didn’t want to. Her traitor body wanted to cling to his hot, wet one, make love to him right there in the shallows. “It’ll be a cold day in hell! ” she vowed, striding toward shore. If only he’d overwhelmed her, taken her by sheer force where she didn’t have to think, couldn’t stop him . . .
She heard him laugh behind her as she grabbed up her clothes, flounced over to the shade of a willow tree, and sat down naked on the blanket he had spread. The heat would dry her skin in minutes, and besides, she had no towel.
Maverick came out of the shallow pool and fell down beside her, lying on his back.
“You’re getting the blanket wet.”
“So I am.” He crossed his long legs at the ankles and put his hands behind his head.
She looked away, furious with herself that her gaze kept going to
his wide chest, narrow hips, and virile manhood. “Have you no shame? No modesty?”
He turned his head, raised one eyebrow at her. “You’re sitting there naked as the day you were born and say that to me, Reb?”
She shook her hair back in annoyance. “Put your pants on, Maverick.” Cayenne grabbed her shirt, slipped it on, and pulled it closed.
“Why? Don’t like what you see?” His tone was almost defiant and he didn’t move.
“Oh, you!” She sighed loudly, lay flat on her back, and pulled her shirt down primly to cover herself. “I’m scared to drop off to sleep, afraid I’ll wake up with you on me!”
“Remember what I told you in the water, baby,” he reminded her softly, insolently.
She turned her head and looked into the gray eyes. Steel-gray. They drew her like a magnet draws iron. She had to stifle an urge to reach out and run her hand through the black hair. “You don’t mean that!”
“Don’t push me, baby,” he said coldly.
Cayenne reached out and ran her finger thoughtfully down the jagged scar on his cheek. “I don’t think you ever really told me how you got that.”
“You don’t need to know.” He caught her hand and held it in a strong grip. “Don’t toy with me, Cayenne. I don’t like women who flirt and tease.”
She pulled out of his grasp, shaking her head so that her hair fell down around her shoulders like spun fire. “That’s not teasing. This is teasing.” Before he seemed to realize what she was up to, she leaned over and kissed him.
He gasped and started, but he put his hands back under his head. Somehow, she had expected him to grab her in a passionate embrace, make love to her with wild abandon.
She kissed him again, very gently, touching his lips with the tip of her tongue.
He didn’t move. “I told you not to tease me, Reb. I won’t force myself on you.”
She leaned on one elbow and looked down at him, annoyed now that he made no move toward her. “I’m not that appealing?”
She noticed his hand lying on his flat belly trembled a little. “I didn’t say that. I said you’d have to beg for it.”
She threw her head back and laughed. “You are an arrogant devil, aren’t you? You think I’d ever want your body that bad? That I’d beg for it?”
“I didn’t say that either.” He closed his eyes and she realized he had long lashes. “Go to sleep, Cee Cee. We’ll be leaving about sundown and you need the rest.”
With his eyes closed, she could study his naked body without feeling embarrassed. The brown, ropy muscles were almost hairless, but there was a scar here and there. She had aroused him, even though he’d denied it. His erect manhood pulsated and she stared at it, remembering how it had felt inside her, wondering that her body could have accepted a sword that big.
“Like what you see?”
When she jerked around, his eyes were open and he smiled impishly at her.
“Damn you, Maverick!” She felt the blood rush to her face.
“That’s mighty strong language for a preacher’s daughter,” he admonished.
“Well, you could cover yourself!” She was furious both with him and herself.
His voice was a whisper. “Why don’t you admit it, baby; you want me. Tell me you want me.”
“You’ve got a lot of nerve ! That’s the furthest thing from my mind!” She felt both anger and guilt at the lie. All she’d thought of for days was how it would feel to have him take her in his arms, make love to her again. And when she’d seen him in the water naked just now and to have him lying here on the blanket in the afternoon heat . . .
“Kiss me and tell me that, Cayenne, that you don’t want me like I want you,” he commanded. His hand reached out, caught her chin, and turned her face so he could look into her eyes.
“You’re wrong!” she said furiously, trying to avoid his gaze. “I could kiss you all day long and not want you! That doesn’t affect me a bit! See?” She bent over and kissed him again, expecting his arms to come around her, pull her hard against him, overpower her with his strength and passion.
He gasped for breath but didn’t embrace her as she kissed him. She would make him lose control! Cayenne slipped the tip of her tongue between his lips, caressed the roof of his mouth. His big body quivered under hers and she felt him moan low in his throat.
She’d make him want her like he never wanted a woman before! She lay against his chest as she kissed him, and both her hands came up to tease his dark nipples, which grew hard beneath her fingers. Her unbuttoned shirt came open as she pressed against him, and she could feel the heat of his dark, bare skin against her naked breasts.
A sudden wetness smeared her thighs as her body reacted eagerly, but Maverick didn’t move to take her in his arms. She ran her tongue deep in his throat and her hand went down to touch his turgid manhood. And suddenly, it didn’t matter anymore who did the begging; not to her. “Maverick,” she gasped against his lips, “I—I want you.”
“Are you asking?” He caught her face between his two hands and looked up at her as her hair fell like a halo around them both.
“I’m asking,” she said softly, and her lips caressed his. “I’m asking.”
His big hands came up then as he pulled her down on his chest with a groan. “You were driving me loco, baby; no woman ever drove me that crazy before!” He held her face and kissed the edges of her mouth. “Now I’ll show you what it’s like to be driven over the edge!”
If she had thought she knew what desire was before, he taught her a whole new dimension now. His hot mouth moved over every inch of her skin as he rolled her over on her back and opened her shirt. She arched up, wanting to feel his mouth on her nipples, but he only stroked them with a sound of awe.
“By damn, Cayenne, you have the most beautiful breasts, such white skin!” And then his mouth came down on them, sucking like a greedy baby.
She whimpered and struggled. “Take me! I can’t stand any more of this!”
His tongue caressed the inner part of her ear. “I told you I’d make you beg, Reb. I don’t make promises I can’t keep!”
“I—I can’t want you any more than I do now!” She writhed under him, trying to pull him down on top of her impatiently.
“Yes you can, baby. Yes, you can.” She felt him slide down the length of her body, felt the warm, wet touch of his kiss on her bare thigh as his fingers stroked and teased between her legs.
Surely he wouldn’t? . . .
But even as she thought that, his big hands were spreading her thighs. “You don’t know what begging is, baby,” he whispered, and his breath was hot on her womanhood. “I’m going to give you the Ultimate Kiss, something I’ve never done to a woman before.”
She felt a sense of shock at the idea but her body wanted what he was offering too badly to stop him. Very slowly, she stopped resisting, let his big hands spread her thighs and then gasped when his hot mouth kissed her there. The sensation drove her nearly wild and she caught his dark head in her hands, pressing his mouth against the forbidden place. “Oh, Maverick! Oh, please! Don’t stop now! Ahhh!”
She shuddered as she felt the hot blade of his tongue probe deep within her, his hard hands grasping her thighs, pulling her against his seeking mouth. She turned her body so that her lips could kiss and caress his forbidden place, too. He was big and hard and the slight salt taste of his seed excited her as much as the musky scent of him.
With a moan, she tilted her head back, surrendering to his thrusting in the soft velvet of her mouth while his own kisses probed her womanhood.
Eagles, she thought, clinging to his hips as he clung to hers. Eagles falling to the earth. And with that thought, she surrendered to his lips teasing the very depths of her, sucking him deep within herself so that she might drink his seed. She couldn’t get enough of him, had never wanted him so badly. And as she fell into blackness, surrendering to her desire, to the warm probing of his tongue, she drank deeply of him. She felt him surge and shudder as he gave up
the very essence of his maleness to her eager mouth.
They both gave themselves to that ecstasy, and when it was over, they were both almost weeping. Then he turned and took her in his arms, kissed his seed off her lips. “Baby, baby! I don’t know. . . . What am I going to do about you?”
He sounded sad and despairing as he cradled her in his arms, kissing her again. “Why, after all these years, did I have to find you, fall for you?”
She felt both guilty and puzzled. What was he hinting at? She thought of the possible trap she might be leading him into if her worst suspicions proved correct. She cared about him too much not to play fair with him. “There’s . . . something I should tell you, Maverick,” she began.
“I don’t want to hear it,” he shook his head stubbornly. “Let’s forget about all the problems and complications just for today, imagine what it would be like to be together forever, making love like this the rest of our lives.”
She was only too eager to forget about everything but him, the way she felt fulfillment in his powerful arms. They made love again very leisurely with great gentleness, and it was fulfilling in a peaceful, different sort of way. After that, they lay on the blanket locked in each other’s arms and slept away the afternoon.
It was almost sundown when she finally stirred and sat up, yawning. Maverick sat on a nearby rock, smoking and watching her quietly. She couldn’t read his troubled expression. “What are you doing awake?”
“Protecting you,” he said simply, patting the holstered Colt in his lap. “If both of us slept that soundly, we’d be easy to sneak up on.” His face was gentle, his eyes soft as he looked at her. “You’ve complicated the hell out of my life, Reb. Always before, I could drift, go anywhere, do anything I pleased.”
Comanche Cowboy (The Durango Family) Page 21