by Connie Mason
They dined that night on beans, biscuits, and thick slices of ham Ryan had purchased in Tombstone. The sky was clear, no sign of rain in sight. They spread out their bedrolls beneath a rocky ledge and turned in for the night.
Kitty pulled the blanket over her eyes to shield them from the brilliant moonlight spilling down upon her. But even that did not help. As tired as she was, sleep eluded her. She turned and tossed, trying to seek a comfortable position on the hard ground. The problem, she decided, was that she’d become accustomed to the comforts of a bed. Even the cot on which she’d slept during the years she’d ridden with the Bartons beat the hard ground beneath her tonight.
She turned toward Ryan, envying his ability to find sleep with such ease. In sleep his face was as smooth and flawless as a boy’s, marred only by the stubbly dark growth on his chin and jaw. She watched his chest rise and fall with each breath and felt a tingling sensation deep within her core. Ryan had made no move to renew their intimate relationship, and she tried to convince herself that she was glad. Sharing intimacies with Ryan would complicate her life, and it was already complicated enough. She told herself she’d be better off accepting nothing from Ryan but his friendship. Unfortunately her heart refused to listen, and her body was even more insistent.
She watched Ryan for several minutes. Then she heaved a sigh and closed her eyes, ignoring the thumping of her heart and clamoring of her body. She let out a startled gasp when Ryan’s voice came to her through the moonlit night.
“Are you having as much difficulty sleeping as I am?”
“I… how did you know? I thought you were asleep.”
“How do you expect me to sleep with you near enough to reach out and touch? I want you, Kitty. Every time I look at you, I get so hard I ache,” he said thickly. “I can’t sleep for recalling how it felt to be inside you, how delicious you taste. Only my conscience is keeping me from making love to you.”
“Your conscience?” Kitty asked, incredulous. “I wasn’t aware you had one.”
His lips curved up into a smile. “Occasionally my conscience asserts itself. Mostly when I wish it wouldn’t. I would be making love to you right now if I wasn’t worrying about Bert’s reaction when he learns I’ve bedded his daughter without offering marriage. Which of course I’m unlikely to do. There isn’t a woman alive for whom I’d give up my freedom.”
“What makes you think I’d let you make love to me again?” Kitty asked huffily. “I may be naive in the ways of men and women but I’m smart enough to recognize lust. I made a mistake once, Ryan, but never again. I’m not going to become your whore, then pretend I’m Bert Lowry’s innocent daughter. Besides, there isn’t a man I’d trust enough to marry.”
“Go to sleep,” Ryan said grumpily as he flopped on his side away from her. “I don’t know what we’re going to do about this unholy attraction we have for one another,” he muttered in a voice barely above a whisper.
Kitty heard, and wondered the same thing. She’d been attracted to Ryan from the first, even when posing as a scruffy lad. She’d die before she’d tell him that what she felt for him now went far beyond mere attraction. He had engaged her heart and made her body want his. And now she had to suffer the rest of her life for the single night of bliss she had shared with him.
Sleep finally came, and with it dreams that placed her squarely in Ryan’s arms, exactly where she wanted to be.
* * *
Ryan estimated that the trip to Tucson, barring any kind of mishaps, would take three or four days of steady riding. Kitty dreaded the journey for many reasons. Each day would bring her closer to the man who had left her mother with a babe in her belly and never looked back. Her distrust of men began when her father abandoned her mother, and it had not wavered during her years as Deke Johnson’s stepdaughter. Kitty and her mother had learned to live in fear of his nasty moods and heavy hand.
They stopped early the next night beside the Santa Cruz River. The site was peaceful, with plenty of water nearby in which to bathe. Kitty’s body felt saturated with sand; even her clothing held copious amounts of gritty dust. She couldn’t wait to scrub her whole body and wash her hair, which had grown to nearly shoulder length since she no longer had to hack it off with her knife. She wondered if Ryan had noticed.
“Can I bathe first?” Kitty asked after they had dismounted and taken care of the horses.
Kitty could have sworn she heard Ryan groan. “You can bathe while I hunt for our supper. Don’t stray too far from the campsite.”
Kitty gathered soap, towel, and a change of clothing while Ryan walked off toward a forest of mesquite and tall cactus. “Watch out for snakes,” he called over his shoulder.
Kitty shuddered. She’d camped out often enough in her life to respect all manner of slithery creatures. And that included lizards and scorpions.
She walked down to the river and wandered a short distance along the shore until she found the perfect spot to bathe. She sat down on a rock, removed her boots and dirty clothing, and waded out into the water, clutching a bar of soap. The river wasn’t deep this time of year, and she was able to wade nearly to the middle, where the water lapped at her hips. Then she knelt on the sandy bottom and dipped her head back to wet it. As she applied soap to her sopping head, she heard two gunshots and smiled, her mouth already watering for the roasted game.
She was blissfully rinsing soap from her hair after the first scrubbing when she heard a noise. She dashed the soap from her eyes and glanced behind her, seeing nothing but cactus and mesquite. Feeling foolish, she continued her bath. Moments later she heard the noise again. Whipping around, she nearly fainted when she saw a group of Indians standing several yards away on the riverbank.
While Kitty might have been knowledgeable about snakes and crawling creatures, she knew nothing good about, and thus feared, Indians. The Bartons had come across Indians a few times and had successfully chased them off. But she and Lex had almost lost their lives to Indians once, and she’d never forgotten it. This time she was alone and helpless to defend herself against armed warriors.
Kitty followed her first inclination, which was to scream.
Ryan returned to camp with two fat rabbits. Since Kitty hadn’t returned yet, he skinned and cleaned them, started a fire, and threaded them on green limbs to roast. Then he walked down to the river to wash. He didn’t see Kitty and assumed she had walked out of sight of camp to bathe. He smiled to himself, thinking she was smart to remove herself from his sight. He felt himself harden just thinking about a nude Kitty frolicking in the water.
Tugging off his soiled shirt, he used it to wipe his hands and face. Then he headed back to camp, intending to bathe later. Suddenly a scream rent the air. Ryan felt the hair rise on the back of his neck as he recognized Kitty’s voice. He dropped his shirt and willed his legs into motion, his heart thumping wildly. The fear he felt was indescribable. Should something happen to Kitty he’d never forgive himself.
He ran along the riverbank in the direction from which the scream had come, calling her name. She didn’t answer. He was beyond frantic when he saw her standing in the middle of the river, her arms crossed protectively over her breasts. He couldn’t determine whether she was hurt or merely frightened as he unbuckled his gunbelt, flung it to the ground, and splashed into the water.
She was shaking uncontrollably when he reached her. He pulled her into his arms, trying to make sense out of her words.
“In … In … Indians,” she stammered. She was nearly hysterical with fear, and Ryan tightened his hold on her.
“Indians?” Ryan asked, finally understanding. “Where?”
She pointed to where the Indians stood among the mesquite. “There.”
He saw them and grimaced. “Damn! I left my guns on the riverbank. Can you walk?”
Kitty nodded, and Ryan hurried her through the water toward shore. Suddenly Ryan heard one of the Indians shout something at them, and he stopped. “Look,” he cried, relief shuddering through him. “They�
��re giving us the peace sign. They’re friendly Indians. My brother Chad learned something about Indians when they held his wife Sarah and her son Abner hostage. They’re probably out hunting and couldn’t resist watching a beautiful woman bathe.”
He remained watchful as they turned and disappeared as silently as they had appeared. He felt Kitty tremble, and his arms tightened around her. There had been at least a dozen warriors; he and Kitty would have had virtually no chance of escaping had they decided to attack. But he didn’t tell Kitty that. She was still shaking, still pale and frightened when they reached the riverbank.
Ryan placed the towel around her bare shoulders, then bent to retrieve his guns. “I’ll gather your clothing,” Ryan said as he buckled on his gunbelt.
“No!” she cried, clinging to him. “I don’t trust them. Take me back to camp, please. You can get my clothes later.”
“They’re gone, love, they’re not coming back,” Ryan comforted. “Had they meant us harm we would both be dead by now.”
He felt her shuddering against him, felt the stiffness in her limbs, and he swept her up into his arms. “I didn’t think anything could frighten you,” he teased. “You single-handedly laid low a drunken cowboy, what makes you think you can’t defeat a few Indians?”
“This is no joking matter, Ryan,” Kitty scolded. “Lex and I had a close call once and I’ve never forgotten it. We barely escaped with our lives.”
Her arms tightened around his neck, and Ryan savored the arousing sensation of her bare breasts plastered against his naked chest. If she knew how much he enjoyed it she’d probably jump out of his arms.
“They won’t come back,” he vowed. “You can relax now.”
They reached the campsite, and he let her slide down his body to the ground. The sensation was pure torture. The towel hid little of her naked beauty, and Ryan felt his staff harden and push upward against his belly. He groaned, wishing she’d either put on some clothes or let him love her. But to his surprise she didn’t move. Her eyes were locked with his. He read blatant desire in them and felt his control slipping. If she didn’t move now, he wouldn’t be responsible for his actions.
“Kitty, if you don’t stop looking at me like that I’m going to give you what we obviously both want.”
Kitty couldn’t look away, couldn’t move, didn’t even want to. She was drawn into his heated gaze like a moth to flame. His eyes glowed with desire, and she felt the hard ridge of his sex pushing against the material of his denims. Knowing he desired her made her own need spiral out of control. She strained toward him, feeling dampness gathering in her core as her body prepared itself for love. Her breasts felt heavy; her nipples were pebbled and swollen into taut nubs.
Embarrassed by her need, she turned away from him. It wouldn’t do to let him see how very much she wanted him. She had promised herself this wouldn’t happen again, but here she was, all but begging Ryan to make love to her. Did he know? Did he have any idea how much she desired him?
Then she felt his hands on her shoulders, turning her roughly. “I seriously doubt either of us have the strength to fight this, Kitten,” he whispered against her ear. “This attraction is bigger than both of us. I want you. You want me. In a couple of days we’ll reach our destination. Strange surroundings and new experiences will leave us both with little time or inclination to indulge our mutual attraction. As you embark upon a new life with your father you’ll doubtlessly look back on this as a pleasant memory. What I’m saying, love, is that we shouldn’t deny ourselves now. Let’s take what we can, while we can, and savor the pleasure.”
A pleasant memory? Kitty thought bleakly. Is that all she’d ever be to Ryan? A brief interlude of shared passion and lust? Could she live with that? Did she have the strength to deny him, when she wanted him as desperately as he wanted her?
She was still pondering the answer when Ryan lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bedroll he had laid out earlier. He placed her on the blanket and covered her with his body. She felt the pressure of his hard sex against her softness and couldn’t stop the tiny moan that worked its way past her throat.
His mouth covered hers, stealing her breath and replacing it with his own. Her mouth opened to his probing tongue, cherishing the masculine taste and scent of him. She kissed him back, slid her fingers in his dark, silky hair. Were she to kiss a thousand men she would always know Ryan by his unique taste. He sucked her tongue into his mouth, and she shivered in response. She moaned out a protest when his mouth left hers, trailing warm, moist kisses along her jaw, down her throat, pausing to lick the rapid pulse beating out her pleasure.
He shifted his body, his mouth sliding down to her chest, lavishing careful attention to her throbbing breasts and swollen nipples, making them ache and distend. But he did not linger however much Kitty writhed against him and gasped out her pleasure. She caught her breath as the liquid fire of his mouth continued its downward path over her stomach. She felt her muscles jump as his tongue traced patterns on her belly, ringed her navel, then claimed the hot, quivering center of her core.
She screamed. “Ryan, what are you doing? I want you inside me.”
“Not yet,” he murmured, raising his head and smiling at her. “There are many ways to make love. I want to show you all of them in the short time we have together. Don’t stop me, Kitten. I won’t hurt you. Trust me.”
Dimly Kitty wondered how many women Ryan had asked to trust him. More than she could count, she’d wager. But she hadn’t the strength or the will to stop him. She wanted … everything.
Ryan must have sensed her acquiescence, for he lowered his head and continued his erotic torment. When his tongue parted the golden curls protecting her mound, Kitty arched sharply upward, shocked by what he intended and thinking she must be wrong to even think that he’d consider such a sinful thing. Then he shoved her legs wide, parted her tender folds with his fingers, and placed his mouth on a place so intensely sensitive that she jerked violently and cried out.
“Ryan! No! You can’t!”
He showed her by action rather than words that he could do precisely what he intended as he held her thighs firmly apart and plundered her slick flesh with his mouth and tongue. Her breathing grew erratic, her heart pounded, and those places he was tonguing with sweet dexterity throbbed. Fire leaped through her veins, pooling in her tender parts. When Ryan thrust a finger inside her, the tension burst in wave after wave of undulating pleasure.
Still immersed in her climax, she didn’t realize he’d stripped off his denims until she felt his hair-roughened skin glide upward along her own smooth flesh. Strong contractions were still vibrating through her when she felt the blunt point of his sex probe her entrance. She opened her trembling legs, and he slid forward, hissing a sigh into her ear as he pierced her deeply. He began to move, and all rational thought vanished. Kitty had no idea her body could quicken again so swiftly. Her first climax had been so satisfying she would never have believed it possible to reach another. But Ryan was proving how wrong she had been.
Having him inside her was pure bliss. With his mouth and hands arousing her and his sex bringing her closer and closer to an explosive ending, Kitty knew she would never love another. She reached down to clutch his buttocks, felt him tauten as he thrust into her, again and again. Her second climax hit her, scattering her senses as she grew brittle and shattered into a million brilliant shards. She heard Ryan’s harsh breathing, felt him go rigid, felt the wet splash of his hot seed inside her as he called out her name.
Kitty welcomed his weight as he collapsed against her. She wished they could lie like this forever, but she knew better than to wish for impossible things. Ryan wasn’t a forever kind of man. She would have to look elsewhere for a man to love. Unfortunately Ryan was the only man she wanted. She had given her heart to a man who would trample it beneath his feet if she failed to protect it properly.
Ryan shifted to Kitty’s side and pulled a blanket over them. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the r
abbits are too tough to eat,” he remarked. “Don’t move, I’ll see to them,” he said when she started to rise. “I’ve pushed you pretty hard the last two days. You must be exhausted.”
“I’ve ridden harder,” Kitty said, reminding him of her life outside the law.
He gave her a wry smile. “Have you made love after a hard day’s ride?”
“You know I haven’t.”
“Then rest. I’ll start the coffee, open a can of beans and call you when everything is ready.”
Ryan pulled on his denims and went to see about the rabbits. He needed a few minutes alone to think. He was bothered by the speed with which Kitty was becoming important to him and relieved that the mission he had undertaken was drawing to a close. Quite successfully, he reflected, proud of his accomplishment. Intuition told him that remaining in Kitty’s company longer than absolutely necessary would be unwise. In fact, it would be downright dangerous. Kitty had a way of getting to him on a personal level. The more times he made love to her, the more he wanted her. His response to her was unusual and completely out of character for him.
Despite the warning bells ringing in his head, Ryan knew he’d throw caution to the wind and make love to Kitty as often as she allowed it. “Consequences be damned,” he muttered to himself. He’d had plenty of experience distancing himself from relationships grown stale. Why should Kitty be any different? Why shouldn’t he tire of her like he did the others? When the time came, he would simply walk away and not look back. It was what Rogue Ryan did best. But right now all he could think about was Kitty’s sweet body and the pleasure she’d given him. There was plenty of time left before he had to walk away.
Chapter 8
They had found a perfect place beneath a ledge to camp that night. There was water nearby, but when Kitty went to bathe she found that it went no deeper than her ankles, forcing her to sit in the narrow stream and splash water on herself. But it felt refreshing nonetheless. Much to Kitty’s relief, the Indians did not reappear.
