Southern Seduction
Page 17
And how she loved that beast.
Travis crushed her lips in a fevered kiss. He parted his lips, tender and insistent, and stroked hers with his tongue. He molded and shaped them into a perfect fit to his. With a little pressure, she opened her mouth to receive him, and he thrust his tongue into her mouth, kissing her deeply as she clung to him. He was insistent, relentless as he robbed her of every sense she possessed.
Brooke burned with a yearning need that she'd never experienced before. This was so different from all the other times.
She leaned into him as Travis trailed kisses down her throat. She moaned, lost in the intimate, sensual way he made her feel.
"Move your hair for me," he whispered.
Brooke pushed her heavy golden hair aside, exposing her neck, and Travis took advantage, kissing her soft throat. She clung to him to keep from falling. Her knees felt like water.
But Travis still had more in store for her. He hadn’t finished with his exquisite torture.
He bent lower until he reached her breast. He took one of her budded nipples into his mouth and teased her, circling it with his tongue. Then he sucked her nipple until she felt as if she were going to scream out at any moment.
Brooke reached for him, tangling her hands in his blond hair, pulling him closer against her breast. He responded by playfully biting her nipples, then sucking each one until she was moaning with pleasure.
She was on fire.
Brooke gasped, she couldn’t catch her breath, for he reared up and took her mouth with a vengeance. She felt the hard, manly boldness of him resting against her belly, and now more than ever, she wanted to feel that hardness within her. She wanted to ride the magnificent beast until he, too, moaned her name. "Please, Travis."
Hearing his name on her lips started a raging fire within Travis. He needed relief. Since they were already so close to the bed, he bent a leg, kneeling on the mattress, and pulled Brooke with him as he rolled her over and onto her back. That long golden hair fanned across the sheets just as he'd envisioned so many times before.
As Brooke gazed up at him, she was overwhelmed by the intensity of her feelings. She’d thought she'd understood what desire was before. Now, having met Travis, she discovered that she understood nothing about what she felt for him. Could it be something more than lust?
The gentle strength of his embrace was sweet perfection as he held her to him, kissing her with such a tenderness that it made Brooke’s heart swell with gladness.
He wanted her.
Travis was smoldering. The heat within him had built to such a tremendous state that he knew he had to have her now. He moved his hand down between her thighs to the warm wetness that waited for him there.
Good, she was ready, he thought as he enjoyed the warmth of her tongue on his.
He felt as though he were going to burst for want of fulfillment. His yearning to enter the sweet-hot flesh overwhelmed him as never before. It took a lot of restraint to ease himself slowly into her incredible warmth, but he wanted to feel her surrounding him before he began to move, slowly at first. "I want you so much," he said in a choked whisper.
Her hips arched beneath him in response as he plunged deeper. Her legs entwined around his waist. She moved with him as he held back, wanting to give her as much pleasure as she gave him. Her fingers bit into his skin as he felt her shudder. Travis drove deep and hard, shuddering with his own release as she called out his name.
Through the all-consuming heat of their passion, Travis realized that it had ever been like this before. God, she was wonderful, he thought as he tried to catch his breath.
Finally, Brooke began to spin back from the abyss. An unfamiliar feeling of tenderness welled up in her breast as tears threatened to overwhelm her.
She tried to tell herself that she shouldn’t be so emotional. Emotions had never been a part of her. . . until now.
Then realization hit Brooke right between the eyes. Travis meant something to her. How had this happened? She hadn’t wanted him to mean anything at all.
Was this love?
She didn’t know. Nor did she know how to handle it.
What was Travis feeling at this very moment? He certainly wasn’t proclaiming his undying love.
Brooke was wise enough to know that one night of stormy lovemaking wasn't necessarily true love. The one thing she did know -- Travis was her husband, and she had all of him.
At least, for now.
Chapter Fourteen
The next morning, Travis told Brooke that Captain Leathers would give her a tour of the boat while he played cards in the salon. She wondered why Travis himself wasn't going to show her around, but she supposed that he didn't want to be bothered.
It occurred to her that she should possibly be put out that her husband didn't want to spend every little moment with her, especially since this was their honeymoon. However, Brooke reminded herself their marriage wasn't built on undying love; theirs was strictly a business arrangement. So she gave her husband a little smile and told him to enjoy himself. This produced a frown from him as he left the cabin. Brooke was at a lost how to interpret his expression.
Travis couldn't wait to get out of the cabin, and he wasn't sure why. Perhaps it was the fact that Brooke’s every movement reminded him of her sexual attractiveness. Last night had been satisfying. It was damn good sex and something more, and it was the more that disturbed him. He needed time to come to terms with his newfound feelings. As long as they were together he’d never be able to think straight, so he had to get away to clear his mind. Maybe over several games of cards, he could relax long enough to think.
He passed several fetching women who smiled and flirted as they bid him good day. Travis nodded a greeting, but kept going. The women were attractive but they didn’t have golden eyes and hair the color of fresh wheat.
Damn, he needed a drink.
He entered the salon with its inviting red interior and many windows positioned to allow plenty of light. Over in the right corner was what he was looking for -- diversion -- something to get his mind off his new wife. Four men sat playing cards and a fifth chair sat open and inviting, waiting for him.
Brooke dressed in a warm, walking dress of purple cashmere, trimmed with cream-colored lace. It had a high bodice with draping folds from the shoulders, down the back. She selected a cream-colored shawl to ward off the fall air, then left her cabin.
The weather was pleasant, typically fall-like with a chill in the air, accented by a light breeze. The sky was a clear crystal blue. Stationing herself by the rail, Brooke looked out over the vast expanse of the Mississippi River which stretched as far as she could see. Apparently the rest of the passengers had boarded earlier that morning, and she and Travis had slept through the commotion. Brooke smiled, thinking how tired they had been after a night of making love. She wondered how she compared to Travis’s other conquest? Hopefully he had the same sense of fulfillment that she did.
The water was as smooth as silk and the sun shimmered across the translucent, olive-green surface. Behind her loomed two tall, fancy-topped chimneys, belching black smoke that drifted behind them in the wind. The splashing of the trundling paddle wheel was slow and rhythmic as it slowly turned, almost relaxing, she thought.
The pilothouse sat in front of the two smokestacks. The white-gingerbread work that adorned the cabin promenades suggested an opulent hotel set afloat. Glass windows fronted all four sides of the rectangular cabin, providing the captain with a panoramic view of the river. A big, wooden steering wheel stood regally in front of the windows. Brooke raised her hand to shade her eyes so she could get a better view of the impressive structure.
The captain saw her and waved in cheerful greeting. He motioned for Brooke to stay where she was, then he exited the pilothouse, coming quickly to join her.
"Good Morning, ma'am," Captain Leathers said as he strode purposefully but gracefully along the hurricane deck. He was tall and massive, looking like an advancing storm front in his c
oat of gray. His blue eyes were large and full of fight; his lips stern, a dense fringe of dark red beard ringing his jaw. There was such an air of confidence about the man that Brooke automatically liked him.
"I see you are enjoying my river," he said.
"Your river?” Brooke said, arching an eyebrow. “Yes, I am," she agreed. "I’ve never seen anything so large."
"You bet it is! It's the longest river in the world -- four thousand three hundred miles,” Leathers boasted. “It discharges three hundred and thirty-eight times as much water as the Thames."
"Really," Brooke commented, "I'm impressed. I always thought of the Thames as quite a large river. Tell me, how long have you been on this river?"
"Long time. Started as a deckhand when I was a boy,” he answered proudly as he nodded to a knot of passengers strolling past them.
The women were dressed in deck-sweeping skirts and flounced jackets, and their hair was coiffed into elaborate whorls and fringes. Some wore hats with veils that protected them from the brilliant sun. The men were dressed just as fancy with coats, high hats and varnished boots.
Brooke asked many questions as the captain showed her around the boat. She'd always enjoyed learning new things, and the captain and his ship were quite fascinating. Talking to him also kept her mind off of Travis and the wonderful way he had made her feel last night.
They leisurely walked along a promenade that stretched outside the staterooms on either side. Next they climbed a set of stairs that led to the passenger’s cabins, then on to the hurricane deck where the officers' quarters were grouped in the Texas house. The pilothouse was located on top of the Texas deck, three decks above the boiler deck.
When they reached the pilothouse, Leathers said, "This is where the pilot guides my ship. This river might look like it is easy to navigate, but there are sandbars everywhere, and if we hit one, we're stuck. Or worse, it could tear a hole in the underside of the boat. There are also reefs and islands and snags that are constantly changing, not to mention the abrupt ox-bow turn."
Leathers placed a hand on the shoulder of the pilot who was watching the river. "This is Edwards. The job of keeping us safe is on his shoulders."
"It sounds like you have a very important job, Mr. Edwards," Brooke commented.
Edwards turned and smiled at her, then glanced back to the captain. "Just like I've been trying to tell you, Capt’n. I'm very important to this paddleboat."
Leathers chuckled. "Let’s go. My pilot already was a big head to go with the big price I have to pay him."
The boiler room was the life of the boat, the captain explained. It’s very noisy, Brooke thought. There were five boilers lying horizontally side by side. Stacks of fuel lay opposite the furnace. The heavy iron doors were open, and sweating firemen fed the furnaces with pitch pine. As she watched, one man even threw in some rancid bacon.
Brooke looked to Captain Leathers for an answer.
Leathers chuckled. “Believe it or not, the grease is good for the fire. Makes it burn hotter.”
Brooke wasn’t sure it needed to be any hotter. It was so stuffy and dry she could hardly breathe. She wanted no part of this room. "If you don't mind, Captain, I'd like to go back up."
"The boiler room is no place for a lady, I agree," Captain Leathers said once they were on top, "but I thought you’d like to see what makes this boat run."
"It was extremely interesting," Brooke admitted. “But, it was too hot and steamy in there. It almost felt like the depths of hell.
“I do appreciate the tour, however, I think I’ll go and see what my husband is doing with his time. Travis said he was going to play cards. Do you know where that would be?"
"The salon. Of course, I'll show you how to get there."
The Grand Salon was a large room with crystal chandeliers providing enough light to read by. Rich, opulent furniture was scattered around in clusters so that men and women could lounge and talk. In one corner, however, there was a table where five men sat hunched over their cards. One of them was her husband.
Brooke waited a few moments to see if Travis would look up and notice her, but she might as well have been holding her breath. When he didn’t glance her way, she strolled closer to the table.
She stood back, fascinated by their concentration, while the men played. Captain Leathers stood beside her and watched as well.
They were playing poker, and she could see the cards in Travis’s hand. He had a full house, but was betting conservatively as he watched the pot grow. Finally, there was a call and Travis laid down the full house, much to one of the other gentlemen's disgust. He had three of a kind. Travis raked in the pot and began sorting his money.
"That was excellent strategy," Brooke said.
Travis turned around, his arm on the chair. "And you know something about the game?"
"I played a little back in England. It was all the rage in the salons in London."
One of the taller men stood. "I've had enough for today. Why don't you take my place, little lady?"
"I don't want to intrude," Brooke demurred.
"Gentlemen, this is my wife, Brooke,” Travis introduced her. “Do you mind if she plays a few hands? I'm sure she will bore quickly," he added.
The men laughed but nodded their approval.
Brooke thought that her husband really didn't know her well enough to make such a statement, but that was all right with her. She could very easily show him. She moved around the table and took the recently vacated seat.
"Gentlemen," Captain Leathers said. "I see that Miss Brooke is in good hands. However, I will hope that you’ll be gentle.
“And you might want to save some of your money to make wagers on the boat race,” he added. “I received word that the Annie Johnston is waiting at Baton Rouge and would like to race us to St. Louis."
"Good news," the gentleman to her left said. "It’s been a long while since I've seen a good race. I assume you will still support your passengers?"
"Of course," Leathers said with a smile.
"What does that mean?" Brooke asked.
"Most boats take few passengers when they race, but our good captain still makes his regular stops, albeit a little quicker. And he still wins the race," Travis explained.
“Don’t believe in tossing passengers off just to lighten the boat,” Leathers told him, then tipped his hat and bade then bid them good day.
Playing a card game was a good diversion for Brooke, especially since she found herself winning many of the hands. She also liked the fact that occasionally Travis would have a good hand, but hers would be just a little better. Nothing like good competition. As her winning grew, his scowl became fiercer.
An hour and a half later, after Travis had finally won a respectable hand, he announced to the table, "Gentlemen, I believe that we've had enough for today. Are you ready to go, my dear?"
Brooke smiled, knowing that Travis’s reasons for quitting had more to do with her winning than his boredom. "Of course,” she said, gathering her money. “Thank you, gentlemen, for allowing me to play with you," she said graciously, then took her husband’s arm.
Once outside on the promenade, they strolled down the deck. It was now late in the day, and the Natchez was just docking at Baton Rouge where a horde of people stood on the dock.
Brooke and Travis kept their place by the rail so they could watch as the roustabouts unloaded cargo and new passengers were taken aboard.
"How did you learn to play poker so well?" Travis finally asked. Evidently he’d been thinking about the game since they’d left the salon.
"I told you, I played in England. When I was in boarding school, we would sneak into a back room and play cards.” She peered around at him. “You're not upset because I took a few hands from you, are you?"
"Of course not," Travis protested. "But I usually win."
Brooke looked at her husband dressed in a dark blue coat and buff-skinned breeches then searched his ruggedly handsome face trying to see how he really f
elt. "You’re sulking," she told him.
"I am not."
Yes, he was, and Brooke knew it. Whenever Travis was around, the air seemed to vibrate with his presence. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "I'm sorry I bested you at cards."
Travis realized he sounded childish. "Is that your best apology?"
She gave him a surprised look.
"Come now, I'm sure you can do better than that," he teased.
She couldn’t miss the gleam in his eyes as she stepped into his arms. She slowly slid her hands up the front of his shirt, her fingers sliding into the nape of his hair.
"So you'd like a better apology," she whispered, waiting for his nod of agreement. "How's this?" she asked, kissing him first on the chin and then moving to his mouth, where she placed another soft kiss.
Travis groaned and tightened his hold on her, parting her lips so he could taste her mouth. He really didn't give a damn that they were in public. Where this woman was concerned, passion exploded every time he touched her. He moved his mouth urgently over hers.
"Must be love," a woman passenger said as she passed them.
Somewhere a bell rang thrice, reminding Travis what he wanted to do to his wife couldn't be done out here on the deck, so he forced himself to pull away.
"You’re not going to believe this," Brooke said in a husky voice as she laid her head on his shoulder. "But your kisses are so wonderful that I thought I heard bells."
Travis chuckled. "What you heard, my love, was Captain Leathers warning the passengers to find their accommodations and for the visitors to go ashore. It's time to shove off. Turn around and watch, and then we'll go to our room," he whispered in her ear.
Brooke turned in his arms, which he kept snuggly around her. She felt bubbly inside when he held her, and the feeling was addictive. From the moment they had married, Travis had changed so much that Brooke wondered if he might truly feel something for her.