Joe had no doubt that every man there was reversing the process in his mind. His cock surged again against the placket of his trousers, which only made him madder.
When she finished, she flashed a bright smile. “Now, if anyone else has trouble with an aching tooth, you know who to come to.”
There were a lot of heads shaking and low mutters among the men. However reluctant they might be for a visit from her plier-wielding hands, half a dozen men still reached down to pick up her bag.
“Thank you, gentlemen,” she said, reaching for the bag. “I’ll leave you to your business.”
The crowd parted like the Red Sea for Moses, and she sailed right through, brushing past Joe with a ladylike nod.
He clamped his jaw tight and turned to follow her out the doors. On the planked sidewalk, he caught her arm. “Now wait a minute there. You and I are gonna have us a little talk.”
“Oh? Do you need a tooth pulled too?” she said, a smile tugging the corners of her lips.
He narrowed his eyes. She wasn’t wriggling her way out of this with charm. A quick glance behind them, and he realized the swinging doors were open and the men had spilled onto the walkway to watch them.
All he needed now was for a few of the beer-guzzling crowd to decide a rescue was in order. “You’re coming to my office.”
“Anything you say,” she said, her voice soft and a little breathless.
Her feminine tone had his loins tightening again, and he dropped her arm like he’d touched a red-hot poker. Hectic color rose on her cheeks and her gaze widened as she stared up at him. She was starting to look worried, which suited him just fine.
Extending his hand in front of him, he let her precede him down the walkway. She took a deep breath, lifted her chin and glided down the sidewalk like she owned it.
A breeze caught her light rosewater scent and wafted it right under his nose. Without her gaze keeping his appropriately engaged, he was free to look his fill—and he did, sliding his glance down the slim, straight line of her back to the flare of the womanly hips that twitched from side-to-side. It was all he could do not to reach down and adjust the front of his trousers.
They passed the front of Curly Hicks’s store and several interested gazes followed. At the doorway, Mrs. Sessions, the preacher’s wife, gave Honey a wide, beaming smile.
Honey shook her head and murmured, “Not now, Daisy. The sheriff wants a word with me.”
Daisy Sessions’s gaze landed on him and two round spots of color rose on her cheeks. “Later then, my dear.”
Odd, but the woman looked flustered, almost guilty.
Finally, they reached his office and Honey breezed inside and set her bag on his desk. He closed the door behind him and turned to find more faces peering through the window. He cursed under his breath and pointed to the inner room where the jailhouse was.
Her back stiffened, but she didn’t demur and stepped inside. When he had her out of sight and hearing of all the interested folk of Two Mule, he lifted a foot and nudged the door closed behind them.
Honey had her back to him and lifted her slim hand to smooth her hair.
He stayed silent, deciding to let her stew for a minute. When someone got nervous, they tended to talk, and Joe wanted to hear everything the little lady had to say.
At last, she cleared her throat and turned, a small, tight smile pasted on her lips. “Am I under arrest, Sheriff?”
“Should you be?”
Her breath gasped, lifting her gently rounded chest against her staid gray shirtwaist jacket. “You’re angry with me.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, leaned his back against the door and tried not to think too hard about the fact they were completely alone. A tantalizing prospect he’d imagined often the past couple of days.
As he watched her standing in the narrow, darkly lit room with the bars of the cell block behind her, his imaginings became disturbingly carnal. He cleared his throat and forced his mind back to business. “I sold you a license to solicit your medicines,” he said, keeping his voice even although the memory of her straddling Paddy Mulligan still burned hot. “Yet I found you rolling on the floor of a saloon performing surgery.”
She gave a short, strained laugh. “I wasn’t rolling on the floor. Paddy’s a large man and I couldn’t see into his mouth when he was seated. Besides, I only pulled a tooth. I do have some expertise—”
“I’m getting complaints about possible poisonings—”
“Poison?” Her finely arched brows rose. “I don’t deal in poisons, sir.”
“Then explain why all the married men in town have taken to their beds.”
She opened her mouth but quickly clamped it shut. Her back straightened.
“You don’t deny you’re responsible?”
A blush the color of the pink roses his mama used to grow spread quickly across her cheeks and down her neck to disappear beneath her collar. “It’s not what you think, Sheriff.”
He wondered if the blush extended to her breasts, but didn’t dare let his gaze fall below her rounded chin. “Then tell me exactly what it is.”
She lifted that stubborn chin high. “I can’t. That information is privileged. Meant to remain private between me and the persons I sold the medicine to, like a priest receiving confessions or a doctor—”
“You’re no doctor. Those rules don’t apply.”
“Have you talked to these men? Have any of them made complaints against me?”
“No, but you’re up to something, and I don’t want any trouble.” And she was trouble with a capital T. “I’m thinking you should hitch up your wagon and head on down the road.”
She blinked and, for a moment, her expression faltered. “I had hoped to winter here. Mrs. Sessions—”
“Is an innocent lady. She’s not wise to your ways.”
Her stillness cut him, and he felt heat warm the back of his neck and the tips of his ears. He’d crossed the line between being professional and being cruel.
She jutted her chin higher and fisted her hands on her hips. “You’re implying I’m not…innocent?”
His gaze swept over her, from the tip of her red-haired head to her toes. Another insult. He couldn’t seem to help himself where she was concerned. Something about her had him firing with both barrels blazing. “You travel alone—without a chaperone. What’s a man supposed to think about that?”
She took a step closer, drawing her eyebrows together in a fierce scowl. “Being alone in the world means I’m a whore?” she said, her voice rising.
“A decent woman,” he bit out, “would set roots in a community—seek help and protection from a husband or her neighbor.”
“I don’t need any man to protect me or my virtue, sir.”
“I’ll grant you had me and most of the town fooled. But your charm’s a little too practiced, and you’ve got a slick tongue.”
Her mouth gaped and her cheeks went from pink to a dark red that clashed with her bright hair. “A slick tongue?”
Her anger goaded him on like a burr under a saddle. “You’re a snake-oil salesman, a charlatan—”
She stepped so close her chest nearly touched his, and she glared up into his face. “Now you look here, buster,” she said, pointing a finger at his chest and giving him a nudge. “I’m a business woman. I sell cures people need. I haven’t broken any laws, and I sure as hell haven’t poisoned one damn person in this town.” She paused to catch her breath…and that’s when it happened.
Her breasts brushed his chest, and he felt a spark arc between their bodies, igniting a fire as fierce as lightning striking dry prairie grass. It filled his loins with a heavy, pulsating heat and drew his balls tight and close to his groin. He shot out his hands and grasped her shoulders to pull her flush against his body, but he halted, holding her an inch away. What he wanted of her wasn’t very
civilized. Best not cross that line.
“Sheriff?” Her plump, pink lips gasped, but she tilted her head back.
Invitation enough. He slammed his mouth down onto hers even while he damned himself for being a fool.
Chapter Two
Honey clung to Sheriff Tanner’s broad shoulders, afraid her knees would buckle if she let go. His kiss shocked her to her toes. His mouth devoured hers—hungry, openmouthed, drawing a deeply carnal response from her that had her trembling like a leaf in a breeze.
Ever since that first day when she’d entered his office to purchase her license, she’d imagined what his kiss would be like. When he’d looked up from the rough, deeply scratched desk with the latest telegraph messages and wanted posters spread across the surface, he’d taken her breath away.
Even seated, she could tell he was a big man. Her gaze had followed his thickly muscled shoulders and neck to his large hands with their long, thick fingers, and she’d shivered at the thought of those hands gliding intimately over her flesh. Flustered by how quickly her thoughts had turned sexual in nature, she’d raised her glance.
The harsh, blunt angles of his jaw and nose had been strangely beautiful, well suited to his body. His dark eyes had glinted with interest for the barest moment, before he’d shuttered his expression and raised one dark brow in a challenge that found an answer deep inside her core.
When she’d opened her mouth to speak, his gaze had dipped, and so had hers, until one side of his full lips had curved upward. He’d liked what he’d seen of her, and she’d thought…just maybe, she’d like to explore this attraction—to feel the pressure of his expressive mouth on hers.
In her romantic fantasies, she’d thought he’d gently mold her lips, slowly coaxing her to open for him before dipping inside to touch his tongue to hers. A gentleman’s sweet kiss.
Never would she have imagined the depth of passion he’d unleash. He’d appeared a self-possessed man, not one prone to losing his control.
But then again, she’d never dreamed she’d enter into a shouting match with him. Never mind that his voice had remained even and his words clipped, and she’d done most of the shouting.
No wonder he’d lost his temper. It was all her fault. She’d driven the man to resort to kissing her to shut her up. Only once he’d accomplished his goal, he seemed in no hurry to stop.
Neither was she. She opened her mouth and accepted the thrust of his tongue, shivering as he invaded, moaning softly when he rimmed her teeth and the roof of her mouth and then stroked the length of her tongue in long, scorching laps as though he had to brand her, mark this territory as his own.
Lord, she wished he’d show the same possessive heat where the rest of her body was concerned. She strained against the strong hands that kept her from snuggling close. Her nipples grew tight, hard and irritated by the soft cotton of her chemise, and the oddest quivering pulse began between her legs, swelling her outer feminine folds, moistening the thin inner lips, until she was squeezing her thighs together to relieve the ache.
She broke the kiss and opened her eyes.
His dark brown gaze was smoking-hot, searing. Did he think she’d draw away like a frightened virgin?
Well, she almost was, but that fact didn’t stop her from wanting more of his kisses and to press her body flush against his. If he was half as aroused as she was, she’d know the strength of his desire in the hardness of his cock and the fine tremors that would rack his body when she moved against him.
Could she tempt a man like this? Her pride had been wounded when he’d implied she was a whore. Had he meant it? Or was he just protecting himself from his own attraction? She wanted to know.
Not to throw his attraction back in his face because of her dented pride, but because he was the embodiment of her fantasies. Just once, she wanted to taste the desire of a decent man.
She bit her lip and watched, fascinated, as his gaze dropped to her mouth. She flicked out her tongue and wet her lips, and his breath caught—she knew because his chest rose and lightly grazed hers. The sensation shocked her.
Slowly, she lifted on tiptoe to better align their faces, encouraged when he didn’t draw away. Yet he didn’t press closer either. How could she break his iron hold? She drew a ragged breath, felt the heat creep slowly over her cheeks, and trailed her fingertips up his inner thigh.
His breath gusted and he gripped her shoulders hard enough to bruise, but he didn’t thrust her away.
Where the courage came from, she didn’t want to know. She’d never acted this outrageously before, but when she scraped against the swell of his cock, she knew she was on the right track.
His thick cock jumped. Then his nostrils flared and a ruddy color filled his cheeks. His chest rose and fell more quickly and then stilled again when she cupped him fully with her palm.
Lord, he was hard and hung like a bull. She smoothed her hand up his length and back down just to make sure.
He cleared his throat. “Know what you’re doing there?” he asked, his voice sounding deliciously rusty.
She pouted her lips and raised one eyebrow, trying her best to hide her nervousness. “I think I’m just feeling my way.”
“We probably have an office filled with people with their ears pressed to the door.”
Her lips stretched into a wicked grin. “Then you’d better not shout,” she whispered.
His lips twitched. “Why, am I going to get that urge?”
Wetting her lips again, this time in anticipation, she murmured, “Because I have this damnable curiosity that has to be fed.”
“Do you always follow your…curiosity?”
Her hand followed the hard outline of his cock, and she gave him a squeeze. “What do you think?”
He cursed under his breath and let go of her shoulders. Before she could voice her disappointment, one hand grabbed hers and pushed it away from the front of his trousers and the other reached around her and grabbed her bottom to draw her body close, at last snuggling his sex against her body. “I think we’ve only got about a minute before your admirers come to the rescue.”
“Who?” she asked, her mind already jumping ahead to imagine long, hot thrusts and a powerful release—something she knew about but had never experienced for herself. “What admirers?”
After an adjustment that lifted her on tiptoe, he flexed his hips forward, rubbing his clothed erection where she needed the friction the most. “Do I need to bring out the town census?”
How could he think? Her mind was shattering, one thought after another exploding in multicolored flames. She wound her hands around the back of his neck and pressed her heavy breasts against his chest, rubbing against him like a kitten. “Why aren’t you among them?” she asked, just shy of breathless.
“Who says I’m not?” he growled.
The intimate rumble of his voice did the darndest things to her body. Moisture dampened the crotch of her pantalets. “But you want me gone.”
His cheek rubbed against hers, and he thrust his hips against her, grinding through her petticoats. “I want my life…simple.”
Unwilling to let any impediment halt their momentum, she gathered up the front of her skirt in one hand, holding it at her waist. “I’m not simple, Sheriff.”
“No, you’re not.” A large hand cupped the back of her neck and he tipped up her chin with his thumb. He slid his lips down the column of her throat. “You’re delicious.” Another hand slipped between her legs and found the slitted opening of her underwear. Two fingers traced the moist furrow then thrust inside. “Hot. You’re so damn hot,” he murmured against her hair as he lowered the hand from her neck to tighten on her behind.
Honey’s mouth opened, but she found she didn’t have the breath to speak. Her gasp was ragged, quickly edging toward a howl. Her inner muscles clamped around his fingers and she rolled her hips, trying to bring him deeper.
“Jesus, you’re tight,” he groaned. He stroked his fingers just inside, swirling in her juices. “We don’t have time to take off all these layers, sweetheart.”
Honey hooked a thigh over his hips and leaned back. “What do we have time to accomplish?”
He speared his fingers deeper into her, giving her a twinge of discomfort. “Just this, I think.”
“What about you?”
His jaw tightened, but one side of his mouth rose in a whimsical smile. “No time to put my clothing to rights. Let me give you this.”
A man who gave without expecting his own reward? “Doesn’t seem fair,” she moaned as he twisted his fingers and rubbed knuckles against the ripening nub at the top of her sex.
“Think I won’t enjoy watching you unravel?”
“Does it make you feel manly?” she quipped, trying to keep the conversation light, but damn she needed to move.
Sheriff Tanner let go of her arse and cupped her breast through her jacket. “Makes me harder than a fencepost, but that’s my problem. This will give us both pleasure.” When she arched her back, he glided his mouth along the bottom of her jaw.
Honey circled her hips and groaned softly at the exquisite feeling as her sex dragged away and then swallowed his fingers with each little swirl. “Ummm…I’d like to feel that…fencepost.”
“Bet you would,” he said, a smile in his voice.
“My breasts ache.”
“Wish I had time to see them,” he said, giving her a squeeze through her clothing.
“Mmmm…what would you do? Tell me.”
His mouth found hers and glanced over her lips before moving away to nibble on her ear. “I’d suck ’em ’til the tips spiked and your nipples got all rosy,” he whispered. “Are your nipples pink?”
His fingers surged inside and withdrew, then came back, thrusting deeper. “Yes,” she whimpered. “Um…pink. Then what?”
Sweeter Than Honey Page 2
