by Lisa Plumley
She caught a glimpse of Clayton’s chivalrously outstretched hand, ready to help her from the bed, and silently blessed him for being so understanding. So kind. So gallant. So him.
Within a few giddy moments, Adeline was on her feet. Her toes scrunched in the latch-hook rug underfoot. Her belly gave a flip. Drawing in a breath, she raised her face to the lamplight.
“You’re beautiful, Addy.” Clayton breathed those words in an entirely awestruck tone. He stroked her arms as if to assure himself she was real. He stepped nearer. “So beautiful.”
She felt beautiful, just then. No longer was she simply Adeline Wilson, farmer’s daughter. Or Adeline Wilson, dutiful neighbor. Or Adeline Wilson, dependable friend. Tonight, beneath Clayton’s worshipful gaze, she was beautiful Adeline Wilson.
She was desirable Addy, ready to experience everything true love had to offer. Including Clayton’s manhood…and her own overheated feelings of yearning and curiosity and needfulness.
“Clay?” She gazed at him, nearly losing herself in the mesmerizing darkness of his eyes, the intent passion on his face, the unmistakable love in his smile. “What do I do now?”
He caressed her cheek, then kissed her. “Let me love you.”
She scoffed. “Surely that’s not all! My part must be—”
“—to enjoy everything we share. That’s all.” With a sweet murmur, Clayton kissed her again. His tongue met hers in that beguiling way, sweeping all the good sense from her mind. “Aww, Addy.” He pulled her fully into his arms. “You’re everything to me. If I can make you half as happy as you make me—”
“Then we’ll be even.” Audaciously Adeline kissed him, too. She even dared to give her tongue a timid poke toward his.
Groaning, Clayton cradled her head. He kissed her harder.
Then he gave her a puzzled look. “Why are you smiling?”
“Because if your reaction is anything to go by, I think I must be good at this.” She smiled more broadly. “See?”
Tentatively she trailed her hands down his bare chest. Her fingers encountered taut slabs of muscle, then flat, masculine nipples, and—moving lower still—intriguing ridges of abdomen. Beneath her touch, Clayton sucked in his belly. He gasped.
Adeline skittered her hands upward again. She kissed him.
Clayton appeared to be struggling for air. “Yes. I see. You are unreservedly good at this.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “Now let me show you what I can do.”
Eagerly Adeline waited. But all Clayton did, at first, was look at her. Confused, she stared back at him. Then she realized that he wasn’t just looking…he was seeing. He was remembering.
“The first time I came to call on you, I wanted to hold your hand.” Tenderly he took it. “But your papa looked as if he’d wallop me if I tried, so I didn’t. I regretted it later.”
His repentant grin looked so endearing, Adeline sighed.
“When you went with me to the Independence Day town picnic, you undid your top dress button, there beneath our shade tree—”
“It was very hot!” Adeline declared in her own defense.
“—and I wanted to kiss you…right here.”
To demonstrate, Clayton pressed a kiss to her collarbone. Slowly he meandered up to her neck. He kissed her jaw, then her cheek, then her mouth. Slowly. Deeply. Movingly. Caught beneath his irresistible kisses, Adeline tipped back her head. She closed her eyes. Pleasure cascaded all the way down to her toes.
“Remember the Hallowe’en gala?” Clayton went on. “After we danced? Out in the moonlight, you got next to me for warmth—”
“I remember.” That had been a magical night.
“—and you pressed right up to me, and I could feel you—” with exquisite care, Clayton cradled her breasts “—just here, and I wanted so much to touch you, exactly the way I am right now.”
Gasping, Adeline shut her eyes more tightly. All she could feel were Clayton’s hands, slowly caressing her. All she knew were the delicate budding of her nipples against his fingers and the surprisingly intense good feelings that showered through her next. She wanted, wanted…something. She didn’t know what.
“When I saw you at the creek today, so pretty and free—”
“And stocking-less,” she found the breath to remind him.
“—and stocking-less,” Clayton agreed with a smile in his voice, “it was all I could do not to wade in the water and take you in my arms right then.” His hands swept from her breasts to her belly to her hips, tracing steady, somehow maddening circles over her skin. His fingers pressed into her hips, holding her secure for…something. “I wanted to touch you, Adeline. I wanted to know if you would like this. I knew I would like it.”
With a groan, Clayton moved his hands lower, to her thighs. He stroked her there, then moved inexorably higher. Helpless to resist, incredibly curious, emboldened by love, Adeline waited.
“Do you, Addy? Do you like it if I do this?” With a whisper-soft touch, Clayton brushed his fingers over the dark curls at her thighs. He did it again, even more affectingly. “Do you?”
All Adeline could do was whimper. She nodded, quivering in Clayton’s strong arms. It was fortunate he was a burly mill worker, she thought dazedly. Otherwise, she might have—
Fallen. Suddenly she was falling. But in the next instant, her own rumpled bedclothes and comfortable mattress cushioned her descent—and a moment after that, Clayton landed on top of her, propping himself up on his elbows and knees, kissing her as though he simply could not get enough, and somehow his hand was still between her thighs, and no matter what, Adeline could not squirm away, because then the amazing, trembling, necessary sensations he was calling forth from her body might stop. And Adeline simply couldn’t bear that thought. She needed this.
She needed him. She needed Clayton, for tonight and always.
“Oh, please! Please!” she begged, not knowing what she was asking for but needing it all the same. “Clay, I feel so…oh!”
His fingers whisked over her again, exploring all her most delicate and feminine places, and Adeline realized with a start that she was damp and slick and somehow pulsating there.
“You feel perfect,” he said in a husky tone. “Perfect.”
“I feel…” She gasped. Arching herself against Clayton, Adeline grabbed hold of his hard-muscled shoulder. She panted, wriggling with irrepressible motions. “Wanton. Oh, Clayton!”
Digging her heels in the blankets, Adeline arched higher. Her movements brought her hip tightly against Clayton’s groin. She felt him, in all his immense masculinity, pressed against her skin. She could not have moved away, not for any inducement. His manhood felt hot and hard and silkily smooth. It felt insistent and impressive and a tiny bit frightening.
Adeline opened her eyes.
My. She and Clay were twined as tightly as could be. His skin was against her skin; his sweat mingled with hers; his breath panted over her as closely as hers did him. Beneath them, her bed gave a meager creak. The clock ticked, reminding her that this was real, not a dream. This was her and Clay together.
“Can I touch you?” she breathed. “I’ll be careful.”
Clayton’s gaze met hers. He looked bedazzled and intent and besotted. Most likely, it occurred to Adeline, he looked exactly the same way she did, whenever she dared to open her eyes.
He gave a muttered oath. “Yes. Anywhere. Yes, touch me.”
At his suggestion, Adeline prepared herself. Stealthily she slid her palm lower. Lower. With a sense of anticipation, she watched as her hand got nearer…nearer. Holding her breath, she stroked his manhood. It grew bigger, startling her.
“Oh! I’m sorry!” Worried, she glanced at him. His jaw was set, his brow firm, and she knew she’d hurt him. “Please, Clay—”
“Don’t stop,” he ground out breathlessly.
Hmmm. With a combined sense of inquisitiveness and care, Adeline touched him again. He felt hot and smooth and hard and good.
Seeing Clayton close his eyes
and moan beneath her ministrations, Adeline felt wonderful.
“I can’t—” he panted, reaching for her. “I need…you.”
“I’m quite satisfied here,” she told him with cheeky wickedness. “It might be quite a while before I’m done, so—”
“Ah. You’re killing me, Addy.”
Instantly she raised her hand. “I am?”
He rolled them both sideways, face-to-face with their legs intertwined, then delivered her a smile. “Only in the nicest way possible. I’ve dreamed of this. Dreamed of you. And now…”
His hand moved to the junction of her thighs again. Where once she’d felt warm there, now she felt blazing hot. Where once she’d felt wet, now she felt liquefied with passion and need. Feeling on the brink of…something, Adeline gave in to Clay’s wordless urging to open her thighs. She did, and felt the most remarkable, teasing pressure.
Breathlessly she went still. Gently Clayton stroked her. Gladly her body allowed him inside. His fingertip pressed a little further, ever so gently, and Adeline trembled.
“Sweet Addy.” Clayton lowered his head to her breast. His lips brushed across her nipple, arousing it to another peak. His tongue traced its outline, then gave a gentle lick. “My Addy.
Beneath him, Adeline tossed her head. Her heartbeat seemed to fill her ears; her thighs shook with tension. Her body urged itself nearer to Clayton, seeking some completion to this incredible wanting. Clayton flexed his wrist, pressing his palm to her femininity as though to hold her steady, even as he went on stroking her, bit by exciting bit, and although Adeline knew he must need her to be still, it was suddenly all she could do not to scream with enjoyment.
Higher and higher she spiraled, and if not for Clayton’s strong arms to hold her, Adeline knew she would have sailed clear up into the dark summertime sky and flown away. But Clayton kept her grounded. With his arms and his sweet words and his skillful hands, he kept her grounded with him on her cozy, pillow-tossed bed, and he held her there until Adeline thought she might well be coming undone. Her limbs stiffened. Sparks shattered behind her closed eyelids. She heard a hoarse voice—her voice—calling out Clayton’s name. Then tremors shook her.
Never had she felt anything more powerful. More moving. More earth-shattering. Overcome, Adeline felt her ears ringing. Her body pulsed all over, even in places she’d been mostly unaware of until right this minute. Abashed and enthralled, she opened her eyes to see Clayton—and then things got even better.
“I’m going to love you, Addy.” Clayton stroked her face, his expression full of caring and wonder. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.” If what was to come would be anything like what she’d just experienced… Avidly Adeline nodded. “I’m ready.”
“Good.” After a lingering kiss—and a heartfelt smile—Clayton settled himself between her thighs. “Hold on to me.”
Adeline could do nothing else. Because when Clayton entered her—slowly, gently and tremblingly—she felt as though nothing else in the whole world existed except him…except the two of them, together. Inch by inch, Clayton changed her. With every thrust, every kiss, every deeper sensation of fullness, he made her more and more his own. He taught her exactly what it meant to be united. She’d never experienced anything more remarkable.
Holding still, Adeline gazed into Clayton’s face, enthralled by the changes she saw there. Amazement passed over his features; so did pleasure and desire. But most transformative of all was love. As Clay brought himself fully inside her—as she arched helplessly to meet him—he genuinely loved her. His feelings were there in his kiss and in his caress. They were there in his moans.
They were there in his movements, which grew ever faster and more deliberate. Thrilled by the realization that she was giving such pleasure to him, Adeline daringly lowered her hands to his backside. She squeezed him there, wordlessly letting him know that she wanted him closer…closer. Murmuring sweetly to her, Clayton did come closer. And somehow, Adeline did, too.
That sensation she’d experienced before returned, leaving her quivery and panting. Heart racing, Adeline arched higher. Her thighs quaked. Her body pulsed. This time, when she went still beneath a compelling wave of pleasure, Clayton did, too.
Holding her in his arms, he stiffened. Eyes wide, he shouted his joy at being with her. Feeling suffused with a sort of hazy gladness, Adeline smiled. Clay smiled. They both sighed.
Still wearing his smile—and sinfully, nothing else—Clayton stroked her hair, arranging those long brown strands prettily on her pillow. He kissed her. “You make me so happy, Addy.” Clearly besotted, he gave all the rest of her a giddy glance. “Are you all right? Are you hurt anyplace? Do you need anything?”
“I’m fine. Better than fine.” It was true. She’d feared there would be pain. But if there had been, Adeline had been too preoccupied with all those other new sensations to notice. With a lifetime’s worth of caring in her heart, she smiled. She drew in a deep breath. “I love you, Clayton. With all my heart.”
He smiled at her. “I love you, too, Addy. Never doubt it.”
“I won’t. I have faith in you.” She always had, despite his overdue marriage proposal. But if there was ever an opportune time for such a thing, it occurred to her, this was it! After all, they were alone and very, very close. “I always have.”
Smiling, Clayton rolled over. He cradled her against him. For a long while, they lay intertwined among the bedclothes, peacefully savoring everything that had occurred between them. Adeline couldn’t help imagining more nights like this one—nights they would share once Clayton had proposed, and she’d accepted.
“You know,” she ventured to hint, “I’ve been thinking…”
“Me, too.” Cheerfully Clayton kissed her. “And you know what? I reckon we’re probably thinking exactly the same thing.”
Could they be? Breath held, Adeline stared at him.
Propose, she willed him. Please propose. Just do it!
“We should share a bath!” Clayton announced. “I saw the tub when I was stripping off my clothes. I’ll go pump some water.”
Full of eager chivalry, he stepped out of bed. It was plain he couldn’t wait to please her—and thought they were united in their desire for a bubbly wash-up. Distraught, Adeline sighed.
Clayton heard. Instantly he stilled. “Are you all right?”
Given the concern in his voice, she couldn’t say no. And given the fact that her complaints about his tardy proposal had led to Violet’s scheme, she definitely couldn’t tell the truth—not entirely, at least. Plus, Adeline wasn’t that forward.
It wasn’t as though she could do the proposing herself!
She settled on, “I’m just a little sad. You know…now that things are all over with between us, here in the bedroom.”
“‘All over with’?” Again, that devilish gleam entered Clay’s gaze. Fully and superbly naked, he smiled at her. “Oh, Addy. I promise, it’s not all over with. Not by a long shot. As soon as I make sure you’re all right—possibly by giving you a nice thorough inspection and a good hot soaping up—there’ll be more between us.” His gaze promised it. “Much more. All right?”
Mutely Adeline nodded. She wanted that proposal, to be sure. She definitely did. But given Clayton’s description of the evening’s imminent events… Well, now she wanted those things, too! Shyly she peeked at him. “Can I soap up you, too?”
Another grin. “I’d be powerfully disappointed if you didn’t.” Clayton extended his hand to her. “Come with me, love.”
So Adeline did. It wasn’t a proposal. Not yet. But if she had her way—and she fully intended to—it would be. Very soon.
“Besides,” Clayton added with a scandalous wink, “these things don’t always have to happen in the bedroom, you know.”
They didn’t? Aflutter with the possibilities, Adeline took his proffered hand. “No, I didn’t know that. But now that I do, you’d better watch out, Mr. Davis. Because I’m mighty intrigued!”
The mo
rning after his splendid night with Adeline, Clayton sat at her farmhouse’s kitchen table, near the place’s sunniest window, with—very possibly—the most avidly used manly parts of anyone in the whole territory. Achy but elated, he listened to Addy humming at the stove as she cooked flapjacks for breakfast.
She had a lovely voice. Hell, everything about her was lovely! Her smile, her face and her warm brown eyes. Her voice, her belly and her long, shapely legs. Her laughter, her generosity, and her ready-to-hug-him arms. Even Adeline’s toes were attractive, Clayton thought. A man who could be as besotted as he was… Well, that man was pretty far gone. Fully in love.
For the umpteenth time, Clayton reached into his pocket. He withdrew a crumpled pink ribbon. He smoothed it over his rough fingers, then looped it over his knuckles. He raised it to his cheek. It felt soft and good, like Addy. Helplessly he smiled.
Seeing Adeline with this ribbon in her hair last night had changed him. Loving her last night had changed him. Never again would he simply be ordinary Clayton Davis, brawny millworker. Or Clayton Davis, affable neighbor. Or Clayton Davis, dart-throwing champion at Jack Murphy’s saloon. Now he was Clayton Davis—Adeline’s Clayton Davis—who had found the woman of his dreams and then learned to his delight that she truly loved him back.
With a sigh, Clayton rubbed his thumb over his keepsake ribbon. Without a doubt, Adeline was the woman he wanted. Now all that remained was to offer her a proposal and make her his.
The only trouble was, he couldn’t do that. Not yet. He couldn’t offer Adeline a name that was tainted by rumors of thievery! Before anything else, he had to clear his name. Last night, he hadn’t been thinking clearly. But today…
“I’ve decided to go into town.” Steepling his hands, Clayton gave Adeline a serious look. “To see Sheriff Caffey.”
“Oh.” With her back to him, she paused. “Whatever for?”
“You know what for. I have to clear my name. Especially now.” Especially now that we’ve been together…intimately. His conscience wouldn’t allow him to do anything less. For Addy.
