“Your mama was a whore, and you’re gonna be one for me someday.”
Were Devil’s words true? After her response to Quinn and Dakota last night and her body’s reactions to Quinn this morning, the prophecy might be coming true.
“You know, this trip doesn’t have to be an unpleasant one. Just prove we can trust you and you might find you’ll enjoy more freedoms.” Warm breath smelling of chicory coffee fanned across her cheeks and neck. His words suggested he meant more than just riding unbound as a freedom.
She swallowed the shame down hard and fought to keep back her tears. The effort helped cool down her traitorous body. She would not give in to Devil’s words, and she would find a way to fight her two captors.
“I won’t run, if that’s what you mean. But I won’t help you take me back to die at my stepfather’s hands.”
“Why do you think he’ll kill you?”
“No one betrays him and lives to tell about it.” And she’d betrayed him in the one way that mattered most to Devil Morgan.
“Because you left him?”
She nodded. She couldn’t tell these men the awful things she’d done or why Devil meant to finish what he started the night before she left.
He arched a brow and stepped back. Cradling his rifle in one hand and grasping her by the elbow with the other, he led her around the doused campfire toward the trees. “Then we’ll just have to continue to coax the information out of you.”
At a small cropping of bushes near a large evergreen, he stopped and pulled her hands up in front of her, slowly untying the knot in the leather thong. “You have five minutes to do what’s necessary. Don’t think about running. I won’t hesitate to come in after you.”
Not doubting that he meant every word, she stepped behind the bush to take care of her morning needs. Heat filled her face when she knew he was close enough to hear her, but necessity won out over modesty. Lucky for her he hadn’t insisted on watching.
Or had he? It was something Devil’s men would have no shame doing. She finished quickly and popped up like a prairie dog out of its hole, expecting to catch him staring right at her.
Instead he stood several yards away, his rifle cradled in his arms and his back turned to her as if he were protecting her rather than guarding her. Strangely that idea eased some of her embarrassment, but it didn’t fool her for a moment. She knew if she tried to sneak off he or Dakota would run her to ground. No matter how they touched her, she was nothing more than a prisoner to them.
As she stepped out of the bushes, he turned and approached. With a nod he led her farther into the trees, then handed her a pair of her silk drawers. “You’ll need these for today’s ride. There’s a small stream back there, if you want to wash your hands and face.”
“Thank you.” She imagined she must look like a vagabond from her ride and captivity the night before.
Quinn’s thoughtfulness surprised her. Never would Devil or any of his men think to show a small kindness to a prisoner, and never to her. Well, except for Santos, the son-of-a-bitch lothario. But then again, he’d only shown her kindness, and then passion, in order to get what he wanted—her as part of Devil’s gang.
You fool. Isn’t Quinn doing the same thing?
Yes. But he hadn’t lied about their intent or hidden behind pretty words. Despite their tactics, he’d been honest from the moment they’d stepped into her cabin. There was no talk of love, no promises of a future, other than the one at the end of a noose if she didn’t cooperate. And his honesty was at least something she could respect.
At the small stream, she stepped into her undergarments, then lifted her split skirt to the side and tucked the ends behind her knees as she squatted. She leaned in and splashed her hands, the cold water sending shivers through her. Then she scooped up sand and scrubbed them as clean as she could. Once her hands felt clean, she scooped up water and washed her face, lightly rubbing her hands over her cheeks, blinking and trying to rub the water from her eyes.
“Here.”
Quinn’s voice right beside her startled her. She looked up to see him handing her a kerchief.
“To wipe your face,” he said when she didn’t automatically take it.
She reached for it, her fingers brushing his warm firm ones, her nipples puckering at the sensation as if they remembered his touch from last night. His intense blue gaze held her captive for a moment, then she lowered her eyes as she pulled the kerchief free to dry her face.
After washing and drying her neck, she stood, letting her skirt fall back over her legs and handed him back the cloth. “Thank you.”
He nodded, then stepped back for her to precede him back through the trees to their horses. She noticed there were only two. Dakota’s red roan was missing.
“Where is Dakota?”
A chuckle sounded behind her. “He always wakes up hungrier than a bear in spring. Said if you were going to sleep half the day away, he might as well go to the next town for more supplies.”
“Half the day? The sun is barely over the horizon. And Red Lodge is half a day’s ride from here. That must be some powerful hunger he had.”
“You’d be surprised what Dakota would do for buttermilk biscuits.” Quinn chuckled harder as he stopped her in front of the horses. After he sheathed his rifle in the leather strap on his saddle, he reached for her hands, bringing them together as he had the day before.
“Please don’t.” She tried to pull them away but he gripped them firmly in one hand and wrapped the leather thong around them once more. Not quite as tight as the day before.
“Sweetheart, I might trust you on your feet, but after yesterday’s wild ride, I’m not about to let you go unbound on your horse.” Finished, he leaned in close. “You are an excellent rider.”
The deep, soft rasp of his words suggested he was complimenting more than her horsemanship. Her body reacted with a coiling tension deep in her womb that spread down to her nether lips. She squeezed her thighs together to ease the sudden ache.
How was she ever to survive this trip with them, if simple words and touches had her sex swelling like a flower ripe for the plucking?
“Ready to mount?”
He couldn’t mean what she thought, could he? She blinked to see him cupping his hands to assist her onto her horse, a smug smile on his lips as if he’d known the direction her thoughts had taken.
Grinding her teeth in frustration, she looped her hands over the pommel and stepped into his hands. Her split skirt fell to the side, revealing her naked leg. As she swung her other leg over the saddle she was hotly aware his face was mere inches from her sex. Even with the thin barrier of her silk drawers covering her from his gaze, memories of him stroking her there the night before flashed in her mind.
Once she was settled, he slid his hand up her leg to her knee, leaving a trail of awareness on her skin, his deep blue gaze holding hers. “We’ll meet Dakota outside of Red Lodge.” His grip tightened on her knee. “Don’t try to escape into town. You won’t find many who’d cross two marshals, even to help a woman.”
“I learned that lesson a long time ago, Marshal.” She focused her attention on the trees, not wanting Quinn to realize how alone she truly was in this world.
To her left she heard Quinn mounting his horse. He leaned over and grabbed her reins. “Good. Let’s go.”
Without further comment, he headed toward Red Lodge. About two hours later and a mile southwest of the town, Dakota sat waiting for them, seated on his mount. He was so still he seemed to be part of the landscape, yet aware of everything around him.
Once again she was struck by how uniquely different both her captors were. Quinn reminded her of a stick of dynamite the miners used to clear holes in the earth—strong, lean and dangerous. Dakota, on the other hand, made her think of a wild cougar she saw once just before it attacked its prey—powerful, raw and seductive.
What romantic nonsense. Damn, she sounded like one of her students. Falling into infatuation with the first men who
paid attention to her. Hadn’t she learned her lesson with Santos? These men might not be as cruel or base as Devil and his men, but they were no less ruthless. It was in her best interest to keep that in mind.
“Did you get everything we’ll need?” Quinn asked as they stopped to rest a moment.
Dakota nodded, opening the bundle on his lap and handing Quinn a biscuit loaded with thick slabs of cooked bacon. “The local boardinghouse owner was quite happy to sell me something hot for breakfast. The storekeeper wasn’t happy about getting out of bed early on a Sunday to get our supplies. At least not until he heard the coins in my hand.”
He pulled out a second biscuit and held it out to Lacy. “Can you handle this, pet? Or should I feed you again?”
His deep voice stirred the memories of the night before. Tension coiled inside her at the suggestion, both nipples drawing taut and pressing against the thin material of the camisole. Get hold of yourself! Lacy pulled her hands free of the pommel. “I can handle it.”
The two men exchanged looks, then Dakota settled the biscuit in her cupped hands. “I’m sure you can.”
Heat flushed her cheeks and neck.
Carefully, she took a bite of the precious food. Heaven. Each bite more delicious than the last.
When she’d completely finished, Dakota held his canteen to her lips while she drank. As he pulled it away, a small drop fell from her lips to land on the exposed skin leading to the valley between her breasts. “Thank you.”
He raised his eyes from watching the path of the water. “It’s my pleasure.”
“If you two are finished, we’re burning daylight,” Quinn interrupted, giving a tug on the reins to Lacy’s horse. She grabbed the pommel at the sudden movement to keep from falling off.
Occasionally talking or looking back to check on her, the men rode tandem while leading her horse as if it were a pack mule carrying supplies. And yet she knew they were very aware of her presence at all times. The hours passed with nothing more than a soaring hawk or two crossing their path. As the sun rose higher, the morning chill left her body. Between the rocking motion and the sun’s warmth Lacy’s mind wandered back to the night before.
Even as her body tingled from the memories, something puzzled her. They’d lavished her with every word, touch, deed until she’d exploded and yet neither had used her body for their own pleasure. Was that next on their list of special tortures? Or did they plan to keep her wondering what it would be like to have them claim her body completely? And why did the idea make her want to find out the answer? No woman wanted two men, at least no self-respecting woman. Maybe she was her mother’s daughter after all.
* * * * *
Several hours after stopping for a meal, then riding farther south toward the mountains, Dakota glanced over his shoulder at Lacy. She seemed lost in her own thoughts, letting her horse follow Quinn’s lead without a fight. “How’s she doing today?”
“Confused. Feisty as hell,” Quinn replied with a glance back at her. “Said she wasn’t going to help us take her back to Devil. She says he’ll kill her.”
“You don’t believe her?”
Quinn shrugged. “Who knows? We’ve both seen women who will say anything to save their own hide. A woman bank robber probably lies worse than the others.”
He had a point. Over the years, they’d seen every kind of woman—from tight-lipped spinsters to saloon girls—try to manipulate them to get their way, usually meaning a fun time in their beds. But something in the way Lacy had begged him to free her yesterday, then tried to resist their sweet torture last night, rang true to him. “I think she believes Devil Morgan will kill her if we hand her over.”
“That’s a chance we’ll have to take. She’s the key to finding Devil’s hangout and getting us close enough to take him.”
“You’d use her, even if it meant her death?”
Quinn shot him a hard look. “You’d put her life over avenging the Captain’s death? After what he did for us? For you?”
Dakota narrowed his eyes at his blood brother. “Dammit. You know I want his killer as much as you. But the Cap wouldn’t want us to put an innocent’s life at risk for vengeance.”
“And I’m telling you, she’s not innocent. She’s up to her pretty little neck in this. A woman doesn’t live among a nest of vipers as long as she did without getting bit or turning into one.”
The death of their surrogate father had hit Quinn—hell, both of them—hard. The need to reach out and squash the life from the vermin that had stolen a good man from the earth gnawed at both of them. Despite his callous words about their prisoner’s life, he knew inside Quinn’s heart, honor wouldn’t let him hand her over to their enemy. At least not to be killed.
“If you say so,” he replied, giving Quinn a doubting look, the kind that always made his blood brother think.
Quinn shook his head. “We have a long trip ahead of us. Plenty of time to discover just how innocent or not she is.”
“You think she’ll still try to run?”
“She said she wouldn’t.”
“So why bind her again?”
“It reinforces to her that she’s our prisoner.” Quinn smiled. “Besides, I liked it last night.”
“Evil bastard.”
“And you didn’t?”
“Hell yes.”
They laughed.
Quinn sobered first. “She grew up living with Devil and his men. Loyalty is keeping her from giving us the exact location of the camp.”
“Or true fear,” Dakota suggested.
With a lifted brow, Quinn shook his head. “You think with your heart too much.”
“And you with your temper.” He knew his blood brother’s cynicism came from old emotions he’d buried deep inside, as well as fresh pain over the Captain’s death. “You know we’re going to have to strip her of what’s holding her back, loyalty or fear, or she’ll never help us.”
“You’re wrong. She has motivation. She doesn’t want to hang. That should be motivation enough.”
“You’re the one that has it wrong. Either way, she’s got to trust us completely before we find Devil’s lair or none of us are getting out of there alive.”
“We’ll see.” Quinn just stared ahead at the trail.
Dakota let the subject drop. In all the years he’d known Quinn, he’d never seen him this stubborn on a matter.
Another hour and several miles up the trail, Dakota glanced back to check on Lacy once more. Despite the chill in the air, the late-afternoon sun had lulled her into dozing, startling awake every few moments. Her hair shone like dark copper in the sun. He remembered how soft it felt in his hands last night. All those soft curls made him want to grip his hands in them as he thrust deep into her mouth. Then he thought about the dark coppery curls between her thighs, and how she’d tasted as he coaxed the climax from her.
They needed her to confide in them with the information to bring Devil down. Despite his conversation with Quinn earlier, he knew the only way they could bring that about was to take her over the brink, until she trusted them with the very core of her being. One step at a time they’d draw her closer to them. After her responses to their first lesson in submission last night, how would she respond tonight?
Need slammed hard into his cock. He wanted to sink deep inside her. Bury to the hilt, feel her hot, soft folds clench tight around him as he drove in and out until he came. But that wouldn’t happen until he and Quinn decided she was ready to accept their total control over her. And that would take time.
Lacy’s head bobbed and she started to slide sideways in the saddle, only to startle awake and grab at the pommel.
“She needs to rest,” he said to Quinn.
“If memory serves me right, there’s an area up this next ridge where the river widens. We could make camp there.” He turned in his saddle and saw her fighting to stay mounted. “You want to lead her and I’ll go set up camp?”
As much as Dakota wanted to let Quinn hunt for their dinne
r tonight, he didn’t trust himself to be alone with their sultry prisoner. At least not while the throbbing hunger continued between his thighs.
“No, I’ll take the lead. You’ll just end up burning the food.” He moved his horse in front of Quinn’s. “Besides, a cold bath in the river will feel good after riding the past few days.”
Quinn chuckled as Dakota rode up the ridge. His friend didn’t fool him. He knew exactly why a cold bath sounded good, and the bulge in his pants thought it did too.
Stopping a moment to give Dakota a head start, he watched Lacy, eyes closed, swaying slightly in her saddle. The gold chains of her necklace glittered against her bronze skin in the sun. The shirt she wore was open to the point that the swells of her breasts were very pronounced. Riotous copper curls hung down her back and shoulders.
Dakota’s warning to go slow resonated in him. He might not like it, but his brother was right. They had to reduce her to her basest needs, meet them, then build her trust in them before they reached Devil’s lair. None of them would survive if they didn’t.
Memories of holding her soft body during the night sent even more blood racing to his cock. She was built for a man’s lust, but right now she also looked in need of refreshing.
Like a cool bath in a mountain stream.
The corner of his mouth lifted as a plan formed. He gave a tug to her horse’s lead and started up the path behind Dakota.
It was time for Lacy to have her second lesson.
* * * * *
The swaying came to a stop. Lacy tried to open her eyes, but it was just too much effort. Something tugged at her foot. Her boot came loose, then the other one.
“Time to wake up, sweetheart.”
The deep voice rumbled across her skin like thunder over the mountains before a storm. She shivered. Warm hands lifted her bound hands from the pommel, then gripped her around the middle and pulled her downward. Her legs hardly held her and she slumped into Quinn’s hard body. Finally she was able to open her eyes, finding herself staring up into his intense blue ones.
The Surrender of Lacy Morgan Page 5
