Wild Dream

by Duncan, Alice

  But Addie. Addie filled up places that had been hollow for so long, Charley’d begun to believe they’d be empty forever. She lit his heart, she lightened his soul, she made him feel young again. Whereas when he’d first met her, he’d thought her a silly romantic, he now found her innocence and purity refreshing to his arid soul. While he’d first believed her to be without a shred of common sense, he now knew her to be a woman of infinite resource and powerful frontier wisdom. The fact that she’d retained her innocence and joy of life in spite of the hardships she endured every day only made her more precious.

  His Addie was a survivor in a world where survival mattered. She was a sweetheart in a world sadly lacking sweetness. She was a dreamer in a world of nightmares. She was soft and pure and lovely in a world filled with hardness, cruelty, and ugliness.

  God, he wanted her.

  “Oh, Charley,” Addie gasped again, and this time he heard the passion in her plea. “Please, please don’t stop today. Please say you won’t stop.”

  With a groan, Charley held her tightly. He looked around almost frantically, knowing he couldn’t stop now, but wondering how to continue. He croaked, “But where, Addie?” and heard the desperation in his voice.

  “The crick, Charley. There’s soft grass by the crick.”

  For the rest of his life Charley wondered how he and Addie got to Calhoun Creek that day. Vague memories of him striding, holding Addie in his embrace, or of the two of them stumbling along wrapped up in one another’s arms, flittered in and out of his brain, but he didn’t really remember. All he could say for sure was that to Calhoun Creek they went. With the milk bucket.

  Tender new grass sprouted along the riverbank, green as emeralds and soft as a goose-down quilt. A couple of cottonwoods shaded the verdant patch, and the noonday sun heated the gentle spring breezes. The desert air, which often felt harsh to Charley, today carried a balminess that went entirely too well with loving.

  Gently, he set Addie’s feet on the swath of green and sank to his knees in front of her. Beyond shame, he wrapped his arms around her legs and pressed his head against her stomach.

  “Aw, sweet heaven, Addie.”

  As Addie floated to the earth next to him, his embrace widened to welcome her. She took his face in her two soft hands and peered into his eyes for a moment. Somewhere along their stumbling path, she’d taken off her sunbonnet, and her hair glinted in the sun. Charley thought her eyes looked particularly beautiful as she stared at him: big, gray, somber, and infinitely giving. Then she closed the gap between them; her lips sought his, and he was lost again, tangled tight in a web of her feminine weaving.

  When he tipped his tongue out, he tasted the dusty essence of the wild frontier on Addie’s lips. He brought his hands up to encircle her waist, then pushed them up further until the swell of her bosom tantalized his fingertips. Her sigh of pleasure shot through him like an arrow. His thumbs could reach her nipples, so he stroked them and felt them ripen under his gentle touch.

  “Oh, Charley!”

  Her cry of pleasure rippled through the air and drizzled like honey over him. Very carefully, he lay on the grass, taking her with him. His eyes widened in shock when Addie forced him onto his back. Then she proceeded to attack him.

  “Ad—” was all he got out before her lips claimed his again.

  As her tongue mated with his, she unbuttoned his shirt. She flung it open with abandon and pressed herself against his chest. Desire pulsed through him when he heard her whimper.

  “Oh, Charley, I’ve dreamed of this,” she panted, sitting up.

  Charley felt forsaken for a moment until he realized she was struggling out of her frock. Not at all like the gentleman Addie believed him to be, he began to help her.

  “So have I, Addie. So have I.”

  “Oh, Charley, I want to feel my skin against yours.”

  Charley found himself unable to respond in words, as Addie flung herself back into his arms and rubbed her breasts against his chest and he nearly disgraced himself then and there. He returned her fervor ten-fold, and decided since he was the one with the experience here, he’d best begin to lead the way.

  Gently, he eased Addie onto her back, kissing her all the while. Then he let his lips roam as his hands did the same. He tongued the pulse at the base of her throat and felt it thrum in response. He plumped her faultless breasts in his large hands and found them an exact fit. When he licked a nipple, her gasp was music to his ears, so he washed the other one as well. He found the perfect opportunity to ease her drawers down and over her ridiculous shoes. And those were the next to go. Although it nearly killed him, Charley sat up.

  When Addie whimpered her regret, he murmured, “Let me get these shoes off you, Addie.”

  She mewed her consent, and Charley untied her shoes, sloughed off her stockings, then sat back on his haunches and partook of the loveliest sight he’d ever seen in all his days: Miss Adelaide Evangeline Blewitt spread before him, naked as the day she’d graced the earth with her charming presence.

  Her eyes looked slightly dazed when she caught his gaze. Her hands rested beside her head, palms up, and her hair had tumbled away from its pins and shimmered in the light filtering through the cottonwood leaves. One of her knees was slightly bent.

  Charley could only take a second or two of looking before he had to feel her, too. As he’d wanted to do the evening of his very first full day on her farm, he encircled her pretty ankle with his fingers and smoothed his hand up her calf. His tanned skin looked stark against her pale leg; the contrast made the breath catch somewhere in his chest.

  “Addie,” he whispered when he couldn’t take any more and lay beside her. Her skin felt like satin under his callused palm; he worried about hurting her. When he reached the damp triangle of golden curls between her thighs, he shut his eyes tight and may have prayed; he didn’t know.

  “Charley!” she squeaked. “Oh, Charley!”

  She was ready for him; he felt her moist readiness on his fingers when he explored. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons on his fly and he knew the time had come.

  “Here, let me.” With the speed of lightning, he ripped his trousers off, shucked his shoes and stockings, and pressed his arousal against her. She rubbed against him like a kitten.

  Groaning, wondering how much more of this torture he could take, but needing Addie to feel her pleasure first, he began to stroke her with his fingers. She arced like a bow under him. Watching her the whole time, Charley caressed her dampness, loving her whimpers of passion. Her head whipped back and forth, and she gripped his arm.

  “Oh, Charley. Oh, my land, Charley.”

  “Feel it, Addie. Feel it for me, sweetheart.”

  He felt her coming closer and closer to completion and captured her mouth again. When he felt her body stiffen and her velvety warmth tighten around his finger, he lifted his lips from hers and watched again.

  Just before she convulsed under him, her eyes flew open. “Charley! Oh, my land!”

  “Yes, Addie. Yes, sweetheart. That’s the way.”

  Before she’d stopped shuddering, he knelt between her knees and thrust home, almost desperate by this time. He caught her startled cry in his mouth and kissed her deeply. Sweet heaven, she felt good. Her tightness closed around him, calling him, squeezing him until, with a roar like a lion claiming his mate, he pulsed into her, giving her everything he’d ever been and everything he’d ever be. He’d never felt anything so perfect in his life.

  # # #

  Well, mercy sakes.

  Addie’s breath came back very slowly, but even before she’d stopped panting, she knew she’d experienced something incredibly wonderful today.

  She’d had no idea.

  Her limbs felt wilted, her face—fiddlesticks, her whole body—hot. Charley sprawled on top of her, motionless, as though he’d died there. She’d never been happier in her life, and a big sigh escaped her. Maybe she was the one who’d died. Maybe she’d died and gone to heaven. This felt l
ike heaven, all right.

  Lifting one lead-heavy arm, she pressed her hand against Charley’s back. He was slick with sweat—perspiration, she guessed a lady would call it. She felt the thundering hammer of his heart against hers and sighed again. Two hearts beating as one. It sounded quite poetic.

  He still filled her; the sensation was odd but not at all unpleasant. She’d heard this hurt the first time, and guessed it had, but not much. Not as much as she’d been led to believe. Mostly, it had been thrilling. Utterly thrilling.

  Letting her hand slide, Addie felt the hard swells of Charley’s buttocks and paused to marvel at the differences between men and women. He was so hard; she was so soft. A little smile quivered on her lips. She loved him so much.

  “Charley?”

  Charley heard her, but he didn’t want to move. Wasn’t sure he could. Her whisper didn’t so much break the silence as fill it, along with the fragrance from the nearby apple orchard. Addie had a pretty voice when it wasn’t raised to screech at the sheriff or her aunt.

  He wished he were dead.

  Of all the vicious, callous, mean-hearted sons of bitches in this lousy territory, he reckoned he’d just proven himself to be the most vicious, callous and mean-hearted. To take Addie Blewitt’s virginity this way proved it beyond a doubt. His heart hurt. He wasn’t used to behaving like an animal.

  His head felt as though it were filled with wet sand when he lifted it. “Yes, Addie?”

  He tried not to wince when he peered into her eyes. If they’d shone with adoration before, they now throbbed with love. He felt like such a miserable cad.

  “That—” The soft word choked off and she cleared her throat. “That was really wonderful, Charley.”

  Searching her face for any hint of mendacity and finding none, Charley cleared his throat, too. “Yes. Yes, it sure was.”

  He heaved himself off her body and onto his back next to her. It pained him to do it, but he knew how much bigger he was than she and he didn’t want to hurt her. Any more than he’d already hurt her. Her little sigh of sadness when he left her tore through him, leaving him raw inside. What had possessed him? He flinched when he felt her little hand on his biceps, rubbing him gently. She was such a gentle thing.

  “I didn’t know it would feel so good, Charley,” she whispered shyly.

  “Neither did I, Addie.” And if he’d never uttered another single truth in his whole worthless life, he did just then. It had felt better than anything he could remember.

  Oh, Lord, what had he done? This woman had taken him in and doctored him, fed him, given him work and worth, helped him revive his band, cared for him—dare he say loved him? And how did he repay her? By deflowering her. By stealing her jewels and running away.

  He couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t stand himself.

  It took an enormous effort on his part because he felt completely drained, but he turned to his side and looked at her. Then he wished he hadn’t. He’d never seen a more appealing picture in his life.

  Her hair used to be pinned up in a knot on her head. Now it floated around her face like a halo, the brown-gold strands catching the sunlight and winking at him. Her cheeks were flushed, her full mouth swollen with his kisses. Her body glistened with moisture from their love-making. Charley couldn’t stop his hand from reaching out to press the indentation between her waist and her full hips. She was built for babies, Charley saw with an enormous pang. Her perfect breasts still retained their nubby points, as if they hadn’t recovered from the glory of fulfillment quite yet. The smell of their love-making blended elusively with the fragrance of apple blossoms. The combination was heady, indeed.

  He wanted to stay here with her.

  No. What he wanted to do was run away.

  No. He wanted to stay.

  Oh, hell. Charley didn’t know what he wanted to do right then except smooth his hand softly over Addie’s silken skin and drink in the sight of her.

  “You’re so pretty, Addie,” he murmured, watching his hand glide over her belly and wishing he were somebody else; somebody with hope and a future. And morals.

  Her smile ripped his heart open a little wider. “Thank you, Charley. I think you’re about the most handsome fellow I ever saw.”

  Her hand closed over his and he sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, wishing—just wishing. “Thank you, Miss Adelaide.”

  Charley traced a path up her tummy and over her ribs, and brought his hand to rest just beneath her breasts. He wanted to cover one of them, but fear held him back. He didn’t trust himself with this much liberty. Her siren’s body sang to him, even now, right after the most delightful release of his life.

  Inhaling deeply, he braced himself for what he had to say next. “I’m sorry, Miss Adelaide. I had no business to do this with you. It was a brutish thing to do.” He couldn’t quite meet her gaze when he admitted unhappily, “I reckon I’m no better than those fellows the sheriff dragged off.”

  Her laughter swelled in the apple-blossom air and drifted over the two of them like a dainty butterfly.

  “Oh, Charley, don’t be silly. I wanted you to do what you did, and you know it.”

  Opening his eyes, Charley said, “That doesn’t make it right, Addie.”

  She shook her head, making the pillow of her hair shimmer like satin. “Oh, Charley, that’s just what you would say, you old silly.”

  He frowned, not liking the drift the conversation was taking. “Now, Addie, don’t start in on that ‘gentleman’ stuff again. A gentleman wouldn’t have—have had so little control over his impulses.”

  Addie eyed him lovingly. “Oh, Charley. Don’t you understand yet? A gentleman is just a special kind of man. And any man is helpless in the face of certain things.”

  “He is?”

  “He certainly is. Why, the knights of old used to just go all over weak with their ladies. They never waited until they were married or anything. Their passions were simply too strong.”

  Charley searched her face for a moment, then murmured, “I’d never heard that before, Addie.”

  “Well, it’s the truth.”

  Silence settled between them as Charley tried to digest Addie’s declaration. It was too big and much too sweet, though, and his stomach rebelled.

  “Addie, I think you’re just trying to make me feel better. I know I was wrong to have made love to you.” Honesty made him add, “No matter how wonderful it was.”

  Her giggle tickled his ears and made him smile in spite of himself. He was totally unprepared when she threw her arms around him and flopped him over onto his back. He stared up at her, startled.

  “Oh, Charley, if you aren’t the sweetest thing in the whole wide world, I just don’t know who is!”

  When she kissed him again, Charley guessed it was his lot in life to be a blackguard, because his reaction was instant and indelicate. Her softness was too appealing, her generosity too tempting for his hungry body and starving soul to deny. Bending one hairy leg, he cradled her across his torso, his hard male flesh pinned beneath her velvety thigh.

  “Shoot, Addie,” he gasped.

  “Charley, I do declare, this is the most fun I’ve ever had in all my born days.” Addie rubbed her thigh against him and almost made him burst.

  He could do no more than moan as passion mastered him again. He and Addie made sweet love one more time on the grass beside Calhoun Creek, which laughed at them merrily as it gamboled past. Charley lasted a little longer this time, but not much, although he made absolutely sure Addie reached her pinnacle before he achieved his own release. If he possessed no honor, he could at least give her pleasure.

  That glum thought kept him company him as he lay on his back and tried to catch his breath. This time it was Addie who sprawled on top of him. He held her close and wished he never had to let her go. Her body felt like heaven, and he found himself nuzzling her hair as it tumbled over his face. She smelled like roses. She always smelled like roses. Roses and love.

  Her sigh of gr
atification grabbed Charley’s heart and squeezed it. A world of confused emotions spewed out to torment him. Lord, how he’d love to just chuck his responsibilities and stay here.

  He looked up at the enormous heavens revealed through the lacing of cottonwood leaves and thought he could be happy here in this rough territory. With Addie at his side to make him remember life’s joyful side, he knew he could forget the unhappy past and create a future. A future. One filled with hope and love. The only future he’d seen on his horizon for years now had been one built upon past bleakness and despair and which looked as forlorn as the present. But with Addie . . .

  Images of his band members’ faces rose up in his conscience and made him flinch with guilt. Lester: ever loyal, ever true, ever needing a hand to guide him. Maybe Lester’d found another hand, a softer one, here in this remote territorial backwater. The thought gave Charley a moment’s hope until four more faces supplanted Lester’s. They all stared gravely into his mind’s eye, as if asking him what they were supposed to do if their leader deserted them.

  But they’d all found jobs, his base nature told him, and he brightened for a split-second.

  Temporary jobs, Honor answered back, and gloom descended again.

  Besides, there was that shopkeeper—Addie’s very own Aunt Pansy—who probably wouldn’t look kindly upon her niece marrying the man who’d tried to rob her. The man she’d shot.

  And there was also Fermin Small, always lurking, always searching, ready to snap Charley up like one of the ‘gators back home.

  Oh, my.

  “Oh, my.”

  Addie’s repetition of his gloomy thought startled Charley. He tore his gaze away from the sky and looked at her. She sure appeared satisfied. In spite of his misgivings, Charley was proud of himself for that.

  Well, shoot. He might be a scoundrel—he knew he was, in fact—but at least he could still make a woman glad she was a woman. Immediately his better nature slapped him upside the head and told him Addie was not merely any woman to be considered in such a sly and condescending way. He acknowledged the validity of his conscience’s reproach with a pang of remorse.