Never Say Sever in Deadwood

by Ann Charles

  “Tease!” I tried to pull it back my way, partially sitting up.

  His arm held solid. “I’d be willing to share the rest of this cookie with you in exchange for something else.”

  I quit fighting and fell back onto the mattress, clearly outmuscled, not to mention half-trapped under the covers.

  “Like what?” I purred, batting my eyelashes at him. I licked my lips to up the ante.

  His gaze got stuck on my mouth. “I don’t know, Boots. Get creative.”

  “Let’s see.” I walked my fingers up his arm toward his bare shoulder. “If you let me have another bite of that cookie, I’d be willing to …” I paused and pulled my hand away, giving him the come-hither signal with my index finger.

  He leaned down.

  “Closer. I’ll whisper it to you.”

  He put his ear next to my mouth.

  I turned my head a little and whispered sweet but naughty nothings in his ear.

  He pulled back and stared down at me with a baffled expression. “You’d do what bunnies do?” he repeated my words aloud as if he’d heard me wrong.

  I raised one eyebrow. “Do I need to spell it out for you, Candy Cane?”

  He let out a loud laugh.

  “Shhhh!” I covered his mouth. “You’ll wake Aunt Zoe and the kids.”

  “Your aunt is already awake,” he said from behind my hand, his lips brushing against my skin. “I heard her making coffee.”

  I kept my hand over his mouth, smiling up at him. “Your lips are tickling my palm and making my biscuit tingle.”

  His pupils widened, turning into captivating black holes. Their gravitational pull sucked me into a half-sitting position again, this time propped up by my elbow.

  “Violet,” he said against my palm. “Lower your hand.”

  “Not until you give me back my cookie.”

  He shifted southward, straddling my thighs now, and then leaned over me. One fist dented the mattress next to my elbow as he held the last bite of the cookie above me.

  Lowering my hand, I opened my mouth and he placed it on my tongue.

  I gave him a fake glare while chewing. “I’m telling you, Oracle,” I said after I swallowed. “Burly muscled and rawhide tough don’t matter. Never tangle with a Scharfrichter.”

  His other fist pushed into the mattress, imprisoning me. He dipped down, his mouth moving closer to mine. “You’re bright and sassy this morning, Killer.”

  “It’s Prudence’s fault.” I reached behind me and found my pillow. Lying back, I stared up at him, basking in the heat of his gaze. “You smell minty.” He must have just brushed his teeth. I gave him a flirty smile. “If I kissed you right now after that cookie, I wonder if you’d taste like a chocolate-butterscotch-toffee-peppermint patty.”

  He stretched out and settled on top of me, flanked on both sides by my thighs, while sandwiching the goose-down comforter between us. “I’m game to give it a try if you are.”

  “Okay.” I tipped my chin and closed my eyes. “Ready.” I pursed my lips out as far as they would go.

  His body shook with laughter. “You look like one of those big-lip damselfish on that documentary about coastal reefs we were watching with the kids the other night.”

  “I prefer the label ‘Kissing Damsel,’ please.” I cracked one eye. “What are you waiting for, Candy Cane? Kiss the damsel before she turns back into a frog.”

  His dark eyes gleamed with mirth. “Damsels don’t turn into frogs. Princes do.”

  “Yeah, well I’m not your normal damsel.” I made fish lips again.

  “No, you’re not.” He cupped my chin. “Now close that eye.”

  I did as told.

  “Open your mouth.”

  “Like this?” I opened it as wide as a banshee mid-scream.

  “On second thought, keep it closed.”

  “But how will I—”

  He kissed me.

  “Finally,” I murmured against his lips.

  “Shut up, woman,” he murmured back. “And let me work my magic.” I could feel the smile on his lips.

  I kept my eyes closed and waited for the show to start.

  He didn’t leave me waiting for long, starting with feather-like brushes of his lips over mine while his fingers traced the line of my jaw. His mouth followed his fingers over to my ear and then down the side of my neck.

  I giggled. “Your beard is tickling me clear to my nether regions.”

  He brushed his chin along my collarbone, sending another delicious shiver south as his mouth traveled north.

  I moaned. “Keep it up and my bloomers will catch fire.”

  “It has been up since I returned from the shower and saw you sitting in bed looking soft, sexy, and slightly tousled.”

  “You just wanted my cookie,” I teased, my eyes still closed.

  “Yes, I do. And your biscuit, too.”

  He kissed me again. His mouth was bolder this time. His tongue slid along the outside of my lips, his breath coming faster. I opened my mouth slightly, trying to tempt him to explore further, but he held back. Meanwhile, his body pressed into mine, rubbing in the right places. But not enough.

  I groaned in frustration, wanting to feel skin on skin. I shoved the covers down to my hips, where they bunched up and made matters worse.

  The bed shifted as he lowered himself onto his forearms, enveloping me in his warm bare skin and the subtly sweet notes from the orange and vanilla soap he’d gotten for Christmas. His tongue delved deeper, finally, encouraging mine to play. I reached up and pulled him even closer.

  He tasted good. Like sex in the moonlight on a tropical beach. No, scratch that. Too much sand in tender spots.

  I framed his face with my hands, skimming my tongue over his. He tasted minty sweet. I went back for seconds, nibbling and sucking on his lower lip for good measure.

  “Touch me,” I whispered before going in for thirds.

  I could feel his deep, rumbly groan as well as hear it. His hand wrestled with my camisole, tugging it up enough to slide under and find skin.

  I stopped thinking then and just floated up to the ceiling while he rubbed his thumb all around. When he shoved my camisole up even further and replaced his thumb with his mouth, I arched my back. Or at least I tried to. But the damned covers were holding me prisoner.

  His mouth stopped way too soon. His thumb hovered near my belly button, which was not where I wanted it to be.

  “Well?” he asked, his voice husky with need. “Was it a peppermint patty–flavored kiss?”

  I opened my eyes and lifted my head enough to frown down at where his hand rested on my stomach, willing it to move a little more toward my toes. “I’ll need to do more testing before I can be sure.”

  “You’ll have to wait.” His lips skimmed the side of my neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. “I’m busy now.”

  I scraped my nails along his shoulders. “I should have brought up some of that honey butter.”

  “You taste better than honey. Especially in certain spots.”

  I moved my hips under the covers, needing more contact. “Like where?” I reached down and tried to shove the comforter off even farther.

  “Like here.” He licked the small indent above my collarbone. “And here.” His mouth slid down into the valley between my breasts.

  I tried to arch into him once more while still struggling with the comforter. “Lick me again,” I begged.

  He hesitated, then shook his head and started kissing me again instead of licking.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, stilling.

  “Nothing.”

  “Doc.” I lifted his head so I could look him in the eyes. “What is it?”

  “That prisoner ghost was licking you.”

  I recoiled. “Jeez. Why’d you have to go there right now?”

  “I didn’t mean to. You said the word ‘lick,’ and my mind flashed an image of that scene.”

  I chewed on my lower lip. “Do you want to stop?”
r />   His gaze relocated to my mouth. “Hell no.”

  “Good.” I tried to wrap my legs around him but the freaking covers held me in place. With a growl of frustration, I started thrashing my legs like a mad woman.

  He rolled partway off of me, frowning down at my legs. “What the hell? Do you have a charley horse?”

  “I can’t.”

  Thrash. Curse.

  “Get to.”

  Writhe. Grunt.

  “You.”

  I sighed and went totally still, my breath ragged. “You need to do something about these covers before I turn into a big green monster and start breaking things.”

  He chuckled. “Hold that thought.”

  His feet hit the floor a second later. In record speed, he locked the door, kicked off his pajamas, yanked back the covers, and dove inside, pulling the comforter over our heads.

  We lay there facing each other in the semi-dark for a few seconds, just breathing and listening, enjoying a slice of privacy.

  “Do you hear that clucking coming from the closet?” Doc asked.

  “Yeah, but we’re going to ignore it for now. We have some more testing to do.”

  A smile played at his lips. “So, you’re going to need more kissing?”

  “And that thing you do with your tongue that shall not be named.”

  “Right. That thing, too.”

  He reached up and ran his thumb along my cheekbone. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

  A liquid warmth filled me from top to bottom, leaving me glowing hot. “Nope. Tell me more.”

  His thumb traced up to my temple. “I hate it when you go into the dark without me.”

  “Me, too. It scares the hell out of me thinking I might get lost one of these times and not be able to find my way back to you.”

  “I would never stop looking for you.” He leaned forward and kissed my nose. “Never ever.”

  I lifted my hand between us, holding out my pinkie. “Pinkie promise?”

  He linked his with mine, pulling my hand up to his lips so he could kiss my finger. “Promise.”

  I tugged free so I could slide my hand around the back of his neck and pull him and his mouth closer. I spent the next several minutes tasting, touching, rubbing while appreciating his magic hands casting spells on my skin.

  When we came up for air next, I was under him again. His body was wedged between my thighs, his hips moving against me in a rhythm that had me aching for more.

  Finally, there were no covers mummifying me. But my underwear had to go. I’d wriggled partway out of them when a muscle started to cramp in my hip. That would have to do for now. I’d have to practice my under-the-covers yoga later.

  I gasped when he sucked on the tender skin under my breast, giving me a love mark that would stick around for a few days. “Doc?”

  He lifted his head. His eyes glittered in the shadows.

  I shifted my hips, lining up with his body. “Are we going to consummate this relationship or what?”

  He grunted, reverting to caveman vernacular, and slid slowly along my tender flesh, sending a wave of delight rippling over my skin.

  I wrapped one leg around him. “Hurry before the kids wake and come knocking for you to cook them breakfast.”

  He didn’t dawdle any longer, filling me in one hard thrust. He paused with his forehead pressed against mine, his eyes closed as a low rumble came from his throat. “Christ, you feel good.”

  “More, cara mio,” I ordered, moving under him. “Now.”

  He went up on one knee, angling deeper as he stared down at me, loving me with his eyes as well as his body. The pads of his fingers inched down over my stomach and kept going.

  “You first, querida,” he said in between breath-stealing kisses and then he touched me.

  A zing of pleasure jolted a gasp from me. “Doc!” I closed my eyes and reached down, pressing my hand over his to help. “More.” My breaths turned choppy, full of cries, pants, and moans.

  “Violet,” Doc rasped, nuzzling my neck. “I love how tight you feel around me.”

  Apparently, that was all I needed to hear to freefall into bliss. He kissed me as I bowed into him, muffling the sounds of my delight.

  As soon as my body finished its fireworks display, he grasped my hips. “My turn.” He drove into me hard, pushing me up the mattress with each growl, until he groaned low and long, fully spent. Then he collapsed on top of me.

  It took him a few seconds to catch his breath. “Damn, woman,” he said against my neck. “It’s never enough.” Then he rolled onto his back, pulling me along, too. “Come here.” He settled me on top of him.

  Tugging the covers back up over our heads, I shielded us from the world again and rested my cheek on his shoulder. “I can feel your heart,” I whispered, tracing a heart shape on his arm with my fingernail.

  “You should be able to. It beats for you.”

  I smiled. “If you’re trying to woo me, it’s working.”

  “Sexcellent.”

  I raised my head. “Did you just say ‘sexcellent’?”

  “Willis was teaching us new words at our last poker night. Although he might have stolen that one from Natalie.”

  “Dear Lord. You’d better not compare me to a barnyard animal during sex or I might bite you.”

  “Kinky. That could be fun.” He played with my hair, soothing me back down onto his shoulder.

  We lay there in silence, listening to the soft clucking sound coming from my closet.

  I sighed in defeat. “That fricken chicken.”

  He chuckled and rolled to the side, scooting down the mattress until we were eye to eye. His dark gaze searched mine as his fingers traveled over my hip. “I have an idea.”

  I wiggled my eyebrows. “Will I be on top or bottom this time?”

  “I don’t care as long as I’m inside of you.”

  “Good answer.”

  His expression sobered. “Seriously, though, I meant I have an idea about our Nachzehrer problem.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “You want to talk about those creepy bastards right now? Here?”

  He nodded. “I’ve been so busy with work that I keep forgetting to tell you about it.”

  Before he could get another word out, three light knocks on the door interrupted him.

  “Damn,” I whispered. “There’s the bell. Recess is over.”

  Doc hopped out of bed.

  I sat up and tussled with my camisole, trying to untwist it enough to find the shoulder straps.

  Another round of knocking rang out, harder this time.

  “Mom?” Addy called through the wood.

  Camisole in place, I glanced over at Doc. He was already tugging his jeans over his boxer-briefs. Holy underwear, he was fast!

  “What do you need, Addy?” I called back, wrestling my own unmentionables back onto my hips.

  “Is Doc in there with you?”

  He nodded at my questioning look.

  “Yeah, he’s here.”

  “Will you ask him if I should wear jeans or sweatpants today?”

  Since when did my daughter consult with Doc on clothing choices?

  “Either will work,” Doc answered for himself, walking over to the closet. “Hey, Addy?” He pulled open the doors, bending down. When he popped back up, he was holding a chicken.

  “Yeah?” Her voice sounded closer. Lower.

  I could see her shadow under the door. She had to be peeking through the crack.

  Doc crossed the room and unlocked the door, drawing it open quickly.

  Addy squeaked in surprise and scrambled to her feet.

  “Take Elvis, would you?” He handed the chicken to her. “I’ll be down in two shakes to make breakfast.”

  Her smile lit her sleep-puffy face. “French toast?”

  He nodded once. “And scrambled eggs.”

  “With lots of cheese?”

  “That’s a given.”

  Addy jumped up and down, ruffling Elvis�
�s feathers and earning a loud squawk in the process. Then she raced toward the stairs.

  Doc closed the door as Addy’s footfalls pounded down the steps, leaning back against it.

  “Arrrrgh.” I flopped back onto my pillow. “I’m not ready to face this day.” After the last two, any hopes I might’ve harbored of having a normal day had disappeared at the first cluck of Addy’s chicken in my closet.

  “Come on, Killer. You can do this. After all, I gave you one hell of a jump start.”

  “Yes, you did, Mr. Cock-a-doodle-doo. You should open the window and crow about it to the neighborhood.”

  He chuckled. “I’d give Mr. Stinkleskine and his little dog a heart attack.” Doc returned to the closet and grabbed a dark blue flannel shirt. He looked at me as he slid his arms into the sleeves. “About the Nachzehrer,” he started.

  “Wait!” I yanked up the bottom of my camisole, flashing my girls at him before pulling the hem back down.

  He paused while buttoning his shirt, a wry grin on his face. “What was that for?”

  “I’m trying to distract you from those parasitic creeps.”

  “It didn’t work. Try again.”

  I gave him a come-hither look. “Hey, big boy,” I said in a smokey, pin-up girl voice. “You want to come pet my cat?” I purred at him, although it sounded more like a gargle.

  He burst out laughing.

  “That was supposed to be a hot invitation to have sex,” I explained. At least it was in Jeff Wymonds’s porno dreams.

  He shook his head, still laughing, and kept buttoning. “Sorry, Killer, but the Scharfrichter gets to tangle with the Oracle only once this morning. Now it’s time for him to make breakfast for her kids.”

  I leaned on my elbow and watched him finish buttoning. While sex with Doc was wonderful and his kisses made my delicates smolder, it was moments like this that I loved the best—lying in bed with his scent all over my skin while he dressed in front of me. If only he didn’t want to talk about a gangly, sharp-toothed, human-like monstrosity that pined for my blood the same way I craved peanut butter fudge ice cream.

  I sat up and wrapped my arms around my knees. “Okay, Oracle. Tell me your idea.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  I wasn’t a fan of Doc’s idea.

  For one thing, it put his neck on the line.