Promises Prevail

by Sarah McCarty

  “Oh heavens.” She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. All she could do was wait and hope.

  He leaned forward, riding the depth of her need, rasping her clit with his chin, sending the wild sensation shrieking outward. Every muscle snapped taut. He soothed the slight pain with his tongue before lashing the arousal back into full force, holding his tongue against her when she needed more, driving her upward when she wanted to rest, never letting her calm, keeping her on the edge until she shoved her hand in her mouth and bit back the welling scream. Only then did he take pity on her, curling his tongue gently around her clit, easing it into his mouth with a gentle suction that increased little by little until breathing became impossible. All she could do was strain toward the fulfillment that he held out before her like a glittering promise. Then with a nip and a scrape of his teeth he sent her hurtling toward it, giving her an extra boost with his clever tongue as she reached the pinnacle, catching her as she came back down to earth. Stroking her thighs and stomach soothingly as she did, he nursed her back to reality with light, easy suctions as his tongue restored her sanity. She relaxed into his caress, needing it, needing the break from the wildness to gather her control. His mouth pressed hard against her as he tugged his hand free. The mattress dipped and then something solid and round pressed against the dripping well of her vagina.

  “Clint?”

  “Just hold still and relax, baby.”

  “What is that?”

  “A very fun toy we’re going to play with today.”

  The pressure against her increased. He was putting it in her. She tried to back up but the headboard prevented her flight. His arms over her thighs kept her from going anywhere. She took a breath as the round object spread her.

  “Easy, Sunshine, just a little more.”

  “Clint, this isn’t right!”

  “I want it.”

  “But…”

  “Are you denying me?” He looked up at her, his expression calm, his eyes burning hot.

  Dare she? She bit her lip and shook her head. It wasn’t her place to deny him anything. And then it was too late. With a pinch, the object slipped inside her. She didn’t know what to do. What to say. She’d never dreamed a man would want to put something other than himself inside of her. Had no idea why he’d want to do that.

  “That’s my girl.” His tongue smoothed over her clit in a lash of rasping heat. That low drawl combined with that soft, rough tongue on her ultra-sensitive flesh sent fire racing to her core. The shiver started at her toes, worked up her torso, and ended with a sporadic twist of her head. Her hair tumbled over her face as his appreciative laugh buffeted her sensitive nub. The shiver started all over again. Before it reached her shoulders, another one of those smooth balls was pressing against her, spreading her. She grabbed Clint’s shoulders. “Just a little bit more, Sunshine, and we’ll be all set.”

  She bit her lip against the instinctive denial. Her nails dug into his shoulders through his shirt. Her breath came in tense pants.

  “How do you do this to me?” she blurted as the second ball seated.

  “Do what?” As if he didn’t know. She glared at him. He patted her throbbing pussy with the flat of his fingers, letting them rest against her wet flesh after the third pat.

  “Make me feel like this.”

  “Just lucky I guess.” He kissed her stomach hard and pulled her nightgown down over her thighs.

  She didn’t believe that for a moment, but she also didn’t want to hear about all the women he’d practiced on before her. She shifted and pulled back, the balls an alien weight inside her.

  “Take them out.”

  “No.” He took her right breast into his mouth through her nightgown, giving it a nip on the tip before letting it go. Her breast felt heavy and swollen in the aftermath. Her hands slid down his shoulders as he rose above her.

  “Please?”

  The smile slipped from his eyes. Years of teachings told her to drop her eyes. The flicker of a frown on Clint’s face changed her mind. Clint didn’t want her that way. He saw her as something different than what she was. Something stronger. She fought the urge and held his gaze. Her reward was a kiss on her nose and a cryptic denial of her request.

  “They’re all part of today’s fun.”

  He came up the side of the bed near her head. She unfastened the buttons of his denims and then licked her lips as he lifted the hard length of his cock free. He was dark, swollen, and throbbing for her. And for this moment in time he was hers. Only hers. She opened her mouth, moistening her lower lip as she pushed forward, kissing the spongy head softly the way he liked, daintily licking his pre-come off as he groaned. His hands sank into her hair before she opened her mouth and took him deep. Completely without reservation. The way that pleased him best.

  * * * * *

  She was not having fun. Those balls that had seemed so innocuous at first were, in reality, instruments of torture. With every step she took, they shifted and struck against inner nerves that flowered open, eager for the contact. Her pussy ached and her nerves were stretched taut. She needed relief, but Clint was nowhere in sight.

  Jenna wiped the last cake tin and put it on the stack. Her arm brushed her nipple. She clenched the counter with her fingers, bracing herself against the surge of sinful desire. As she turned she bumped the tins. She caught them and quickly silenced the clatter. She did not need Bri up yet. She still needed to frost the cakes so they’d be set to go when Jackson had time to take them into town for sale. A quick glance revealed the baby was still sleeping in her makeshift bed on the kitchen table.

  Jenna rubbed the condensation on the window over the basin. The sun was bright, sparking here and there off patches of ice. In the corral, two horses stood hip-shot, soaking up what warmth there was from the late morning sunshine. Chickens pecked around the henhouse.

  She leaned forward to look toward the front of the house. All she could see was the support holding up the roof and the edge of the porch. No Clint. A flicker of black caught her eye. It repeated and she sighed. It was nothing more than Danny’s tail ruffling in the breeze. The knob of the cabinet door brushed her privates as she settled back to her feet. She jumped back, horrified by her body’s reaction.

  She’d never suspected a human being could hunger so. Never known another human being could be so cruel as to leave a woman in this much need. She gripped the towel tightly, took a breath, and counted to ten. She curled her fingers into fists. Clint had forbidden her to touch herself. She’d readily agreed, such actions being against God’s teaching and never having suffered the inclination. But now…now she understood why preachers ranted against the temptations of the flesh, because her flesh was tormenting her so badly that she wanted to scream.

  The horses in the corral whinnied a greeting. Danny barked. Someone was here. Her pussy throbbed and her nipples perked as every nerve leapt to attention in an all-out hope that it was Clint.

  She rubbed at the window again. Two riders cantered into the yard. One of the hands immediately came out of the barn, rifle cradled in his arm. She couldn’t see his face for the angle of the sun, but she knew who he was from the way he held himself. Jackson. Lorie’s brother. They had similar, even features, though Jackson’s hair was darker, but whereas Lorie impressed first with her kind heart and then her abilities, Jackson impressed with an aura of lethal competence. It was only when she saw how he treated his sister and the way he smiled at Mara and Elizabeth that she realized he was a very nice man. Still, as he nodded and smiled at the two riders, she was glad he was keeping an eye on things. She’d be scared witless to have to face down two men on her own.

  The two strangers swung down off of their horses. They didn’t get any smaller for dismounting. The one on the left turned. She sucked in a breath as long hair flew about his silhouette. Oh Lord, Cougar. Which had to mean that the other man was Asa, based on his size and the fact that where there was one, there was usually the other. They turned and headed for the house.
Jackson didn’t come with them. And no matter where she looked, there was no Clint. Panic snapped at arousal, beating it back. It was going to be just them and her!

  She ran to the small chest in the hall, ignoring the near crippling sensation skidding out of her pussy with the rapid motion. Pressing her hand against her spasming womb, she pulled open the drawer. The heavy tread of boots on the porch steps made her fumble. She grabbed the gun hidden inside and shoved the muzzle into the back of her skirt. It was a heavy, comforting weight as it dug into her spine and buttocks. Two short raps on the wooden door made her jump. She took a calming breath. No need to panic. She wasn’t married to Jack and these weren’t his drunken friends. Cougar and Asa were probably just here to see Clint. She’d tell them he wasn’t here and send them on their way. The gun was just to make her feel better. She wasn’t going to need it.

  She straightened her apron and tucked all the wayward strands of hair behind her ears. The rap came again, harder as she made sure her dress was buttoned up under her chin. She was reaching for the knob when the door swung open.

  “Anybody home?”

  She quickly stepped back as Asa’s broad shoulders blocked the light. Cool air swirled around her as he removed his hat, his dark gray eyes inspecting her from head to toe. “Ma’am.”

  “Move it on in Ace. It’s dammed cold out here.”

  The door hit Asa in the shoulder as Cougar pushed forward. Asa caught it in his hand and stepped aside. He shot a glare at the door. “I apologize for the language.”

  Cougar froze. His strange golden eyes lighted on her for an instant and then swept the foyer and the adjoining rooms before coming back to her again, and sticking. “Sorry about that.”

  He didn’t remove his hat. Jenna bit her lip, and clasped her hands in front of her to hide her nerves while she wrestled to find her voice.

  Cougar cocked his eyebrow at her and exchanged a look with Asa before stepping into the foyer. He narrowed her escape route with a push of his hand to a small glimmer of sunlight, and then to nothing. The foyer filled with the scent of leather and horse.

  She took another step back, and fire shot up through her womb, throwing off her balance. She bumped the table. She steadied it, feeling the flush start.

  “No harm done.” The door clicked shut and then it was just her and the two giants standing in the foyer.

  “Clint’s not here.”

  Cougar shrugged out of his coat. “I expect he’ll be around shortly.”

  “You do?” She didn’t like the gleam in his dark gold eyes. She couldn’t hold his gaze. He wasn’t like Clint. There wasn’t any kindness visible beneath the intensity, just a wildness that terrified her.

  “Seeing as how he invited us over to play,” Asa cut in, “I think it’s a safe bet.” He tossed his coat to Cougar who caught it deftly and hung it on the hat tree with his own.

  Time stood still for a horrifying second as the words sank past Jenna’s naive hopes and foolish trust—sank until it hit square on the reality that she kept trying to forget. Her vision darkened at the edges, and the room swayed as the past pushed forward into the present.

  It’s damn fun playing with you. Oh God, Not again. She couldn’t survive it again. The table teetered under her weight.

  “Jesus Christ.” The curse came from her right while Cougar’s growled, “Catch her,” came from her left.

  Danny whined from behind the door as the edges of her vision went black and her lungs refused to work.

  Oh God! She couldn’t let them catch her. She felt more than heard the men move toward her. She lurched back, reaching for the gun with her free hand. The table tipped. She tripped on the clawed foot and came down on her bad leg. It buckled. A grip of iron closed over her upper arm, pulling her up short.

  “Gotcha.”

  “Let me go!” The butt of the revolver settled into her palm. She swung it around, tightening her grip as the heavy muzzle threatened to tip it out of her grasp.

  Asa did immediately, holding one hand up as he stepped back. The look he exchanged with Cougar put the hairs on the back of her neck on alert.

  “Easy, Jenna.” Cougar’s easy drawl did little to settle them down.

  She wasn’t stupid. The only thing between her and them was the gun, and her willingness to use it.

  “Get away from me.” Instead of a shout, it came out in a whisper as shaky as her arms. Both men just stood there, not more than three feet way from her. Not by a twitch of a muscle did they indicate an awareness of how close she was to pulling the trigger.

  Asa motioned with his hand. “Jenna, darling, is that one of Clint’s guns?”

  “I’m not your darling.” Her voice was still pathetically weak.

  “Sure enough you’re not, but that doesn’t answer my question.”

  “You need to leave.” She didn’t want to answer questions. She wanted them to go.

  The muscles in her arms were beginning to ache and her courage was fast dwindling to zero. All she had left was desperation.

  “Answer his question, Jenna.” Cougar’s deep voice rapped out the order so hard and fast that she obeyed instinctively.

  “Yes.”

  “Damn.” Asa took a step forward.

  She raised the muzzle higher. “Get back!”

  He didn’t move, just held out his hand. “Very carefully, Jenna, give me the gun.”

  His voice was smooth as silk, his drawl an invitation to trust.

  She tightened her grip on the gun. Both men tensed. She didn’t lower the muzzle and didn’t hand over the gun.

  “The gun has a hair trigger, Jenna,” Asa offered as if that meant something to her.

  “And a kick like a mule,” Cougar added. It sounded distinctly like a warning.

  “If you leave, none of that will matter.”

  Asa shrugged and said almost apologetically. “Clint won’t be happy if you get hurt.”

  “If you leave now, he’ll never know.”

  Her shoulders ached and her forearms burned like fire. She needed to put the gun down, but if she did, she’d be defenseless, and she was never going through that again. Never.

  Tears blurred her vision and the shaking in her arms spread out through her body. Dear God, she couldn’t survive another rape, but she didn’t think she could kill a man either.

  Courage. She needed courage.

  “Clint’s going to blister your butt for sure, Jenna McKinnely,” Cougar said, his eyes narrowing as he took in her expression and the tension there.

  Asa shot him a sharp glance. “Shut up, Cougar.”

  In contrast to Cougar’s growl, Asa’s drawl was easy and gentle. Deceptively so, but she’d seen his eyes, and no one looking into his cold gray eyes could ever imagine him as anything but deadly.

  “No one’s going to hurt anyone, Jenna, but you’re going to have to make a decision soon. Either shoot or drop the gun.” He shrugged. “A little bit of a thing like you can’t hold out much longer.”

  He was right. That just made it more imperative that they go.

  “Please leave,” she ordered. There wasn’t a prayer that either man would see her as brave. All she had to threaten them with was her desperation. And that she had plenty of. Fractured memories of male voices, lust, pain, gauged her grasp on reality. Past mixed with present, old faces blurred over new. Her screams, her constant pointless screams echoed in her ears until she wasn’t sure what was real and what was memory. The only thing she knew for sure was that Clint had betrayed her. The pain of that overrode everything else, feeding her panic, draining her hope and reason.

  “Mind if I get my coat?” Cougar shifted his weight. His moccasins made no sound on the plank floor as he took a step to the right.

  She just wanted him gone. The muscles in his forearms flexed as he reached for his coat. She took a step back. She couldn’t let him touch her. He was too strong. Too unpredictable.

  “Just take it and leave.”

  His hair fell over his broad shoulders
as he reached for his coat. The gun weighed heavily in her hand. A bead of sweat trickled down her spine as he slowly, slowly took the coat off the hook.

  To his right, Asa stood, no less lethal for all that he smiled easily. She’d heard stories. She knew what he was capable of. But Cougar was closer and the bigger threat. She kept the gun trained on him, forcing herself to meet his gaze in case he gave a split second of warning.

  He didn’t hide from her, but he did frown, his eyes searching hers before saying, “Your demons can’t win here, Jenna.”

  She was clinging to sanity by a thread, but even this close to the edge she wasn’t fooled by the gentleness in Cougar’s voice. She’d fallen for that kindness trick one too many times to tumble again.

  “I don’t have demons.” Just men who hurt.

  “I’m not leaving until I get the gun,” Asa interrupted in his easygoing tone. The floorboards creaked and for a second time Jenna didn’t know who to train the gun on. She bit her lip and re-centered it on Cougar’s chest.

  “You trying to get me shot?” Cougar asked with an arch of his dark brow.

  “You know how touchy Clint’s guns are. Just setting them down wrong can set them off. It’s a wonder she hasn’t shot herself already.”

  “Right now I’m the one in danger of getting shot,” Cougar pointed out dryly.

  “Won’t be the first time.” Asa shrugged and settled his hat forward on his head, hiding his expression in the shadow of the brim. The floorboard creaked under his foot as he took another step forward.

  Jenna’s muscles burned with agony. She couldn’t hold the gun much longer. She turned the gun on Asa. “Don’t make me do this.”

  He kept coming.

  “Mrs. McKinnely, I’ve survived this long by knowing when someone’s going to pull the trigger.” He reached forward. “And when they’re not.”

  He was right. She couldn’t kill him. She couldn’t avoid this that way. It didn’t make her any less determined to avoid it. She turned the muzzle toward her chest and closed her eyes.

  Asa’s “Son of a bitch!” coincided with Cougar’s succinct “Fuck!”