by Heidi Betts
People didn't have to marry to make love. Lily and the other working girls at the Painted Lady were prime examples of that sweeping truth.
And though Callie had always been a good girl, she'd also been unaccountably curious about the more intimate goings-on between men and women.
Now was her chance, without jeopardizing her reputation with the town. After all, no one even knew Wade was here, so they never need know just how tempted she'd been or how many liberties she'd allowed him. She could use Wade's presence to answer all her scandalous questions and still. . .
Goodness.
Just then, driving all rational thought from her head, Wade's fingers dipped farther inside her, stretching her inner muscles and making her moan at the sheer pleasure of the burgeoning fullness he created.
Oh, yes, she would let him make love to her—beg him, if necessary. And it didn't matter what came after that, because she already had the best part of him right here in her bed.
Wade stared down into Callie's eyes, watching as she returned from wherever she'd gone just a moment before. He'd seen her fading off, letting her mind take her somewhere far away from where they should both be going together.
Which didn't say much for his seductive abilities, he thought wryly. But he'd increased his efforts and shocked her back to the here and now. It was the thrust of his two fingers that did it, the mimicry of what he would soon be doing with his body.
At his intimate touch, her eyes went wide, her hips shot a good inch off the mattress, and she once again focused totally on him. Just the way he wanted her to.
"Feel that?” he demanded, turning his fingers half a circle, making sure she knew exactly what he was talking about.
He waited until she nodded in acknowledgment, her front teeth biting down on her lower lip—to keep from screaming in ecstasy, he hoped.
"That's what it will feel like when I'm inside you, Callie girl. Since you've never been with a man before, there may also be some pain, though. When your maidenhead is broken. Understand, sweetheart?"
One chestnut brow winged upward and her nails dug into the hard sinew of his back. “I'm not completely ignorant, Wade. I do know the rudiments of the situation, if nothing else."
He grinned at the acid sharpness of her words.
If she was tearing a strip from his hide, then she was definitely awake and aware. No more drifting off to places unknown, when he wanted her right here in the same county—the same room—with him.
"Good. Then it won't surprise you if I do this.” He let his fingers slide out of her narrow channel and replaced them with his throbbing length. Her mouth fell open as she gasped for air, and he smiled in triumph.
He didn't go all the way in, afraid of causing her pain. He would hurt her, of course; there was no help for that. But he would ease her into it, do his best to make everything else so enjoyable that she almost wouldn't notice the exact moment he stole her virginity.
"It's all right,” he murmured gently, “that's as far as I'll go.” For now, even though it was killing him.
He ran his hands over her hair, letting the fine strands sift through his fingers. “Does it hurt?"
She shook her head. “I feel . . . filled. Good."
He grunted in pure male satisfaction. “Pretty soon, you'll feel even better. Do you think you can take more of me?"
Callie shifted and wiggled beneath him, finding a better position. Her legs widened, and without trying, he slipped even farther inside.
His breath hissed out of his lungs, and this time he was the one struggling to accommodate to her.
When he could again speak without sounding like a strangled cow, he pressed his forehead to hers and said, “Hey, who's in charge here?"
He didn't have to lift his head to see her expression; he could feel the corners of her mouth curling upward.
"I am,” she responded without a hint of trepidation.
And then she flexed her inner muscles around his hardness and the top nearly shot off his head. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, woman! Are you trying to kill me?"
He didn't wait for an answer, instead rolling them across the bed until he was lying on his back and she was perched above him.
His sudden flip and the surprise of this new position rounded her mouth into a startled O. “What are you doing?"
"Putting you in charge.” His grin was wicked and he knew it. But he wanted to see just how brave she was, what she would be willing to do to please both herself and him.
She shook her head, that glorious mane of mahogany hair spilling around her face and trickling down her back. “I can't. I don't know what to do."
"Do whatever you want, whatever feels right. You'll know."
Her straight white teeth gnawed on her lower lip, her nails curling into his chest in uncertainty.
"It's all right, sweetheart. There's nothing to be scared of or embarrassed about. It's just the two of us, and I think you're darn near perfect. There's nothing you can do that I would consider wrong."
After another minute of watching the skepticism play across her face, he began to run his hands up and down her waist, over her arms and thighs.
"What do you want, Callie girl? Do you want to kiss me? Run your hands over my chest? How about seating yourself a bit more firmly and letting me fill you again?"
Still biting her lip, she nodded.
He gave a strained chuckle. “Which is it?” he asked, trying to coax her into doing something, anything, before this desperate balancing of desire sent him over the edge.
Her lashes fluttered as she whispered, “All of it."
"Jesus,” he muttered again. She really would be the death of him. “Go ahead, then,” he rasped out. “Don't let me stop you."
Shifting from side to side, she found a better position straddling his hips. Wade had to grit down hard to keep from shouting out while she wiggled around, but it was well worth it once she settled and leaned forward to put her hands on his shoulders.
Her wet heat surrounded him, but still he wasn't inside her to the hilt. She held herself a little away from him, just beyond the point where he would puncture her hymen.
Her fingers traced eight narrow trails over his chest, stopping to explore the protrusion of his collarbone, the darker circles of his nipples with their budded centers. Over his rib cage and the sunken contours of his stomach as his diaphragm constricted with his indrawn breath.
Not to be the only one driven to the brink of madness, he reached up to cup her breasts. He weighed the heavy globes in his palms, thumbed the aroused peaks, then levered himself off the mattress to swipe at them with his tongue.
At that, Callie sat back, staring at him with wide eyes. “I didn't know we could do that,” she said warily.
"I told you, you can do whatever you like. Touch me, taste me, ride me,” he said, rotating his hips slightly in an imitation of what he desperately wanted her to do to him.
Her eyes darted away and that bottom lip disappeared between her teeth again. “I don't want it to hurt,” she admitted.
"Oh, darlin'.” He reached up to tuck a strand of long hair behind one ear. “It will hurt; I won't lie to you about that. There's no help for it. But it doesn't have to hurt for long. It can be fast, and I'll do everything I can to make it pass quickly."
Her head bobbed slowly up and down, but she still didn't look convinced.
"Tell you what,” he went on. “Let's get this out of the way so we can get on to the real pleasure, all right? Close your eyes.” He ran two fingers from her brows to her cheekbones, forcing her to comply. “Now relax, and don't think about anything but how wonderful you feel. How soft my fingers are on your skin. How warm you're getting. How much you want me to move inside you."
Gently, so as not to startle her or push any further inside her than he already was, he wrapped his arms around her waist and rolled them back to the other side of the mattress until he hovered over her once more.
Her fingers curled more firmly into his upper arm
s, but she kept her eyes closed as he'd asked.
Covering her mouth with his own, he proceeded to kiss her as his hand slipped down to that spot just above where their bodies were locked together. He found the bud of her desire and began to leisurely stroke.
At the first touch to that spot, Callie's mouth opened wider beneath his own. He kept them connected, kept her distracted, and continued a slow building of tension until she was bucking beneath him.
When he knew she was on the verge of her very first climax, he braced her hips with one hand, increased the pressure of his finger, and thrust forward as far as he could go.
Callie gasped, her head jerking back to break their kiss, her eyes snapping open.
"Shh, it's all right. It's over.” He waited a moment, watching the disillusionment fade from her pain-shrouded eyes. “How does it feel? Does it still hurt?"
For the briefest of seconds, she didn't reply. Then she shook her head. “No. It doesn't. It did, but it doesn't anymore."
Wade smiled, unaccountably relieved. “Good."
He lowered his head until their brows met. “You're mine now, Callie girl. All mine."
Pressing a light kiss to the corner of her mouth, he asked, “Are you ready for the rest?"
Chapter Seventeen
Oh, yes, she was ready. Now that the painful and fearful parts were past, she was more than ready for Wade to show her what it meant for a man and woman to come together. All of it. There were times already when he'd made her feel so wonderful, she knew the rest must be truly spectacular.
He was spectacular. His smooth shoulders. The rippling muscles of his arms that held her so solicitously. The firm planes of his chest and abdomen pressed close to the softness of her own.
A thin sprinkling of dark hair covered his chest, leading in a line down to his belly and lower, all the way to where their bodies joined. Those same short, springy hairs tickled everywhere they touched, further stimulating her already highly sensitized nipples and making her want to rub against him, to build on the heightened energy vibrating through her body.
But there was more. She knew it not only from Wade's words, but from the swirling sensation in her belly, the increased pulsing in her veins, the urge to move beneath him and slide along that long, rigid part of him embedded so deeply inside her. She raised her hips a fraction in encouragement, and he wasted no time pulling out a little, then pushing back in.
"You're still in charge, sweetheart,” he murmured close to her ear. “Do you want to stay like this, or do you want to be on top again?"
She worked her bottom lip, considering. She had liked towering over him for a change, bracing herself on his wide, muscular chest. But she liked it this way, too. “Let's just . . . keep going. We can try the other later, can't we?"
Wade made a sound that seemed to be half chuckle, half groan. “Oh, yeah. We sure can, Cal-lie girl. We sure can."
And he began to move, wrapping her legs more firmly about his waist, sliding a hand around to caress the line of her spine. Instinctively, she linked her ankles behind his back and relinquished herself to the feel of having every inch of her naked body flush with every inch of his own.
Wade's motions increased until he was pounding into her, and Callie met each of his thrusts willingly, wanting harder, wanting faster, wanting more.
"Yes,” she breathed. The word passed her lips without thought, but her whole body was humming it.
She felt glorious, as though she was flying. Sensations were building in her almost more rapidly than Wade was moving above her, and she wanted nothing more than for him to send her sailing, careening over the edge of this passion that, before tonight, she hadn't even known existed.
"God, Callie,” Wade bit out, and lifted her just a fraction more, thrust into her just a mite faster.
And then everything froze. Her mouth opened in a great inhalation of breath that filled her lungs to overflowing, and Wade took the opportunity to kiss her as his tall frame rocked into her. A second later, he gave a great groan of pleasure and spasmed, sending a wave of liquid warmth all the way to her womb.
Their harsh breathing filled the room as he collapsed atop her. His weight felt wonderful, and she wrapped her arms around him to hold him near, even as the strength went out of her legs and she let them slip to the mattress on either side of his narrow hips.
Tucking her into his shoulder, he rolled to his back and cradled her against his long, sturdy body. “Have I told you lately that you're an extraordinary hostess? I'm enjoying your hospitality a whole hell of a lot."
Callie laughed. A flush climbed her neck and face, but she wasn't embarrassed enough by either his comment or their complete nudity to turn away or cover herself. Wade had done things to her, shown her things she'd never even imagined before. She was forever changed, and she rather liked it.
"Why, thank you, kind sir. Please don't hesitate to speak up if there's anything else I can do to make your stay more pleasurable."
That statement alone was bolder than she'd ever been in her life, but on top of that, she canted a leg until her knee rested barely a fraction below his now flaccid manhood. She didn't dare look at it, of course; she wasn't nearly that brave after only a single bout of intimacy.
His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her waist as he squeezed her tight. “Give me a couple of hours, darlin', and I might just take you up on that."
She nodded languidly and snuggled farther into the crook of his arm. While the rough pads of his fingers splayed over her left buttock, she drew lazy circles on his chest.
"Mmm,” he moaned, eyes closed, breathing even.
"Wade?"
"Hmm?"
"What we just did. . .” she began tentatively.
The long lashes of one eye parted and he fixed her with a dark brown half-gaze. “Yes?"
"It was . . . nice. More than nice."
"Damn right it was,” he muttered, sounding cocky and self-assured.
Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to ask what was on her mind. “Was it that nice with Lily?"
At that, his body jerked beneath hers and both coffee-colored eyes popped open. “What? Why would you ask something like that?” he growled.
"Because I want to know,” she told him, sticking to her guns.
His arm around her now was tense, fingers digging rather than caressing her naked flesh. The fingers of his other hand raked roughly through his hair and he struggled to look anywhere but in her direction.
"Why?” he demanded harshly. “What does it matter?"
"It doesn't matter, except that . . . well, maybe it does. I want to know if a man experiences the same thing with every woman he takes to bed."
"Jesus,” he muttered, sitting up and letting her fall back to the mattress alone.
She watched the stretch and pull of his muscles as he sat on the edge of the bed, leaning forward to scavenge for his clothes in the pile on the floor. She'd never seen him bare from this angle before; he had a broad, smooth back that led down to a very nice behind. Firm and well-rounded, and when he stood to pull on his jeans, she noticed two tiny, attractive indentations on either side.
Funny, he didn't have dimples on his other cheeks, she thought with a grin.
But when he turned back around, fastening the top button of his trousers, she wiped any sign of amusement from her expression.
With Wade now half-dressed, she felt suddenly exposed and pulled a corner of the quilted coverlet loose to drape over her hips and breasts.
"You don't have to get upset,” she said. “I'm not jealous of your time with Lily. You were together even before Matthew was conceived; I understand that. It doesn't bother me.” Well, perhaps a little, but he needn't know that. “I'm just curious about why it's all right for men to visit with any number of women at establishments like the Painted Lady, but women—decent women, at any rate—are expected to keep themselves chaste until marriage and then remain with that one man for the rest of their lives. Even though their husbands may
still go into town upon occasion for the same thing they paid for before they wed."
Digging his hands deep into his pockets, Wade hunched his shoulders and rolled his eyes. “For
God's sake, Callie, you'll have to go all the way back to Adam and Eve if you want answers to questions like that."
"Then tell me why you do it.” Her brow crinkled as she frowned. “Nathan has visited the Painted Lady a time or two himself, I'm aware. I can't say I approve, but then, that's the way of the world, I suppose. Which is what I want to know: Why is that the way of the world?"
"How the hell am I supposed to know?” he snapped. “It just is."
She shook her head, far from satisfied. “No, I think there must be a reason. Bread dough rises because you add yeast. Cows give milk because they're carrying a calf. Matthew cries because he's either wet or hungry. Men visit loose women because . . . why?"
"Because men have needs, Callie.” He threw his hands up and set to pacing. “That's all I can tell you."
She considered that. “Needs of a sexual nature. All right,” she agreed, “but don't women have needs, as well? I quite enjoyed what we did together, and I imagine if I was given the choice, I'd like to enjoy it again. Are you saying that men need that, but women don't? That you'll get the urge to . . . do what we did and not be able to control yourself, but that I'll merely find the act pleasurable once you've started?"
Wade's head dropped forward and he covered his face with his hands. Then he let his arms fall and looked heavenward. “God, if you're listening, I'd appreciate a nice lightning bolt to strike me dead right about now. Or a tornado to rip the roof off and take me with it."
Callie's lips pursed as she struggled not to laugh. “That doesn't answer my question,” she replied primly, refusing to let him off the hook. “Does that mean we'll only make love again if you get a hankering, and not if I do? Or is it assured that I won't get any inklings along those lines?"
Which couldn't be right, she thought with confusion. Wade stood a scant few feet away, in stocking feet and no shirt, and already she was beginning to feel tingles in her breasts and lower belly region.