“Santos. The son-of-a-bitch that used me.”
Suddenly Dakota’s fingers were back. Stroking. Teasing. Bringing her closer and closer.
She thrust wildly against him.
Her body tensed.
Quinn settled his lips over hers as she shattered into a thousand pieces, screaming her completion into his mouth.
“Good girl,” he whispered against her cheek as he held her close, the waves of soft spasms slowly ebbing, reality returning. Then he passed her over to Dakota’s waiting arms, swimming away from them then back to the riverbank.
Why was he leaving? Despite the anger rolling off him like heat from an oven, she wanted to call him back. Hated that she felt bereft without his body holding hers. Hated her weakness.
Dakota smoothed her sweat-slicked hair from her face. “Easy, pet,” he crooned. He lowered them into the water, the coolness easing the fire burning inside her. “You’ll be okay.”
“I hate him.”
“Quinn?”
“Yes. No. Santos.”
Dakota held her close, splashing cooling waters over her body. “How did he use you?”
“He lied to me. Please let me go.”
She tried to wiggle out of Dakota’s arms but he held her close, stroking her face and crooning to her once more.
A gunshot sounded in the distance.
Lacy froze in Dakota’s arms. “Relax, pet. No one’s going to hurt you. That’s just Quinn finding something for our dinner.”
“I don’t know why you bother feeding me. He plans to see me hang for the bank robbery killings.”
“We’re marshals. It’s our job to see justice is served.”
“Tormenting me is serving justice? Taking me back as a present to Devil is serving justice?” She pushed against his arms, and this time he let her go. She sloshed through the water a few feet, then turned, planting her hands on her hips. “If you want justice so badly, why don’t you just hang me now?”
“Punishment without truth isn’t justice, kitten.”
A chill ran over her body. Whether from her nakedness or his enigmatic statement, she wasn’t sure. Turning, she stumbled onto the riverbank and scooped up the shirt they’d stripped from her earlier. Tears blinding her, she struggled to slip her arms into the sleeves. Just as she managed to get the buttons fastened, Dakota’s hands landed on her shoulder. She stilled her frantic movements as he kneaded her shoulders.
“Trust us. We’ll find the truth, and protect you too.”
“The truth is, I helped in a robbery, and because of me three people are dead. How are you going to protect me from that?”
* * * * *
“What do you mean you found the horse but not the girl?” Devil Morgan slammed his hands onto the table, sloshing whiskey out of his glass. “She don’t go nowhere without that nag.”
Santos leaned back in his chair, lifting the two front legs in the air, studying his fingernails nonchalantly. “She sold it.”
“Why the hell would she do that?” Devil resisted the urge to draw iron and pump his second-in-command full of lead.
“Apparently she needed money.”
“What the hell for? She took all of that last haul we made when she high-tailed it out of here.” He lifted his glass and threw the last of the cheap whiskey down his throat, feeling it burn all the way to his gut. When he got his hand on that bitch again, he’d enjoy tearing the hide off her, one whip stroke at a time. “Where was it you found the horse?”
“A town on the Colorado side of the border. Her trail disappeared from there. Probably took the stage down to Denver. It’s what I’d do.”
“But she ain’t you. She’s a woman and that means she don’t think right. Her mama never did.” He reached down and adjusted his stiff cock. Thinking how he’d punish the bitch when he got his hands on her always got him hard. “You told me once she was in on the robbery, she’d be easy to handle.”
Santos shrugged. “Like you said, she don’t think right.”
“She should’ve been cowering, afraid the law would get her. Her mama would’ve been. Instead she bolted.” Devil poured more whiskey into his glass. “Took my money and rode out just before the pass froze over. Knew I wouldn’t be able to track her until the thaw.”
“She’s got guts. It was her most seductive quality.” A leer spread over Santos’ lips just beneath the pencil-thin black moustache. “That and her magnificent tits.”
Jealous rage flooded Devil. He ought to kill the bastard. Santos had sampled the bitch’s body to convince her to ride with the gang, and he hated him for it. He’d craved taking her himself since she’d started growing those tits. When her voodoo mama died on him, he should’ve just forced her to take her place, but Santos said his plan would work better, and not trigger the curse her mama put on him.
He let out a growl of frustration. “Get the men together. I want everyone scouring the countryside for her. I’ll give five twenty-dollar gold pieces to the man who brings her back.”
“Dead or alive?”
He licked his lips and grinned at Santos. “Alive. Make sure they know I want her very much alive.”
* * * * *
Huddled in her shirt and blanket, Lacy sat on the opposite side of the fire, her hair a riotous mass of curls hanging down her back, still damp from her bath. She hadn’t said much during their meal of quail and cooked beans, and now sat staring into the fire as if it held some magical wisdom in its flames.
Dakota watched shadows play over her golden skin in the dancing firelight. Images of how she’d serviced him and Quinn in the river filled his mind. His shaft hardened in response. The suppleness of her skin beneath his hands as he’d bathed her made his fingers itch to stroke more passion from her. But it was her words that haunted him.
“The truth is, I helped in a robbery, and because of me three people are dead. How are you going to protect me from that?”
He suspected there was so much more to her and her story than he or Quinn knew.
“What’s got your craw?” Quinn asked as he cleaned his pistol.
“Our pet isn’t quite what she seems.”
Quinn’s movements stopped and he stared across the fire at their captive. His eyes narrowed and he tensed, his anger a palpable thing. “Don’t let a pretty face and lusty body fool you. She’s still a bank-robbing murderess.”
“You heard her confess to us that it was her first time to ride with Devil’s gang on a bank job. Do you doubt her?”
“No. Her responses are too deep, too pure. She isn’t capable of lying when she’s near her climax.” Quinn went back to working his weapon. “It doesn’t change the fact that she participated in the robbery that resulted in the death of three people, one being Cap.”
“I know your thirst for vengeance. It gnaws at my soul too. Cap was a father to us both. He taught us everything we know about being marshals.”
“Damn straight. And I intend to see his killers brought to justice.”
Dakota cast him a long look. “Is justice served by hanging someone who simply held the horses along with the men who actually pulled the trigger?”
“Cap always taught us there’s a consequence for every decision. Lacy made a bad decision and now she’s got to face the consequences.”
Sometimes Quinn’s focus on one small detail kept him from seeing beyond it. It made him a determined tracker and lawman, but kept his compassion in check.
Dakota watched Lacy. Despite living among a gang of thieves, she still had a vulnerable quality. Quinn would tell him he was soft in the head, but since coming to live with Anson, he’d been able to see past the external trapping to the soul of the person, even if they tried to hide it from themselves.
Lacy’s unguarded responses made him crave more from her. Her sensuality called to the wild part of him. Would being around her too long—using her—bring out that beast he’d fought to tame?
Wherever they were headed, and he sensed Quinn knew the physical map better than the
mental one, at least one of them was in for a dangerous trip.
“Cap also taught us to look for the truth, even if it’s not what we want to see or hear.” He stood and stretched, then grabbed his rifle. “I’ll take the first watch tonight.”
Quinn squinted up at him. “You never take first watch.”
“You needed to last night,” he said, reminding them both of the state of Quinn’s lust after teasing Lacy. “Tonight it’s my turn.” He stalked off into the woods, listening to Quinn’s deep chuckle behind him.
Quinn watched Dakota’s retreating form disappear into the darkness, walking as if he were uncomfortable, no doubt due to the giant bulge in his pants. His brother had a need for physical release he wouldn’t force on their captive.
With another chuckle he turned his attention back to their camp only to find Lacy watching him intently from her spot across the fire with her copper curls framing her heart-shaped face like dark fire, her green eyes glittering in the firelight.
Interesting.
Lacy had chameleon eyes that changed with her emotions.
They’d been a warm jade before when she was in the throes of her passion. Wary and curious now, they’d become like emeralds.
The dark cleft between her luscious breasts drew his thoughts to the feel and taste of them, she looked like a wanton sex goddess ready for a sacrifice.
His cock filled with blood and strained against the buttons holding his pants shut. Any harder and those buttons would pop and fly like champagne corks.
Damn. What the hell was wrong with him? He hadn’t been this randy over a woman since Betsy Tulliver let him diddle her pussy in the loft of her father’s livery when he was thirteen. Of course his lust had been doused when she’d refused the same privilege to Dakota, calling him a dirty half-breed.
But Lacy hadn’t refused either of them. Yes, they’d used her own submissiveness to coax her to cooperate, never really given her a chance to refuse, but when she’d gone down on her knees in the river today, she’d been equally happy to suck on him and Dakota. Perhaps it was her own mixed heritage that made her more accepting? Maybe it was having two men using her?
Last night she’d been so responsive, he’d wanted to sink his cock deep inside her, claim her as his. He’d recognized the animal inside him. That’s why he’d taken first watch. He’d needed time to get his lust under control. Today had been the same.
It was one thing to tease her body for her own pleasure and reward her cooperation with her climaxes. Using her to slake his own lust? That seemed wrong.
She reached up and tucked a loose curl behind her ear, her focus on the flames once more.
If she was willing and he didn’t ask her anything about Devil, would it still be wrong? Could he coax her into fucking him willingly? How much of his guard would he have to let down?
Anger shot through him.
Why was he worrying about right or wrong when it came to her? She’d been with the men who’d killed Cap.
He didn’t owe her any compassion. None. He could just force her to obey him. God knew it wouldn’t take much. She was a hot bitch once her defenses were breached.
“Women and horses should be handled with a firm but gentle hand, boy.”
Anson’s deep voice rumbled in his mind’s ear. He’d been all of thirteen when Cap had given him this lesson. They’d just brought in a herd of wild mustangs to break for the local cavalry unit. “A man who’d abuse either should be horsewhipped.”
“What if they don’t obey you? How else you supposed to get them to do what you want?” he’d asked, trying to learn from the man he respected above all others.
“It takes a real man to protect his woman and his horse, provide for them. Always put their needs first.” Anson reached up to rub a horse’s neck and ears. “There’s always a way to coax a horse or a woman into trusting you. Once they do, you’ll have less trouble with either one.”
How did he coax Lacy when his anger ate at him like maggots on a rotting corpse? Somehow he needed to leash his need to punish her and find a way to have her bed him willingly. Before he forced the issue or he died from perpetual lust.
He stood and slid his gun into its holster. Not taking his eyes off his prey, he slowly circled the campfire.
* * * * *
How could she have done those things today? Sucking on a man’s cock? Not just one man. Two men? Even her mother, when she was living with Devil, had never done something so shameful.
Somehow she had to find a way to escape her captors before she no longer had the desire or strength to do so.
Lacy swallowed hard and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, staring into the fire. What was it about these two men that made her want to obey them, to please them? None of Devil’s men had affected her in this way. Even Santos, with his smooth words and beautiful looks, had taken months to worm his way past her barriers.
There was nothing beautiful or smooth about Quinn. All hard angles and anger that went deeper than his need for justice. He was in charge. He’d suffer no defiance. And he intended to see her pay for her crimes, whether at Devil’s hands or the hangman’s, it didn’t matter to him.
A shudder shot through her.
Without thinking she reached up to stroke the gold collar at her neck. As always it soothed her nerves. She must be touched in the head to find herself drawn to Quinn, yet she was. Without question or refusal, whenever he awoke her sensual nature she could do nothing more than obey him.
A shadow fell over her.
Startled, she glanced up at Quinn, noticed the bulge in his pants and edged away. When had he moved so silently around the fire?
He squatted beside her. “That’s a magnificent necklace. Where did you get it?”
“It was my mother’s. She gave it to me the day she died.”
“I’m surprised Devil let you keep it.”
“I haven’t taken it off since the day Mama fastened it around my neck. Devil tried to take it once. I threatened to shoot him. He knew I meant it, so he backed off.”
“I bet he didn’t take kindly to you standing up to him.”
She shrugged. “He knew I hated him for how he treated Mama. But I also knew that after she died it was only a matter of time before he forced me to take her place. I would rather kill myself.”
She turned to stare into the fire once more. A quiet silence settled between them. After a few minutes he stood and stared down at her.
“It’s time for bed.” His hands grasped hers like warm, firm manacles. Slowly he pulled her from the blanket.
She fought his efforts, twisting her arms, only to have him grip her tighter. “I’m not going to let you use me anymore.”
“Sweetness, you’ve received quite a bit of pleasure from us.”
“Not because I wanted to help you.” She dug her heels into the dirt and tried to pull loose.
“Stop that before you get hurt.” He slipped his arm around her waist and hauled her up tight against him.
She bared her teeth and tried to bite him.
He twisted his shoulder away and grabbed her by the chin, stilling her efforts. “Careful. I bite back.”
The look in his eyes told her he meant the threat.
She narrowed her eyes, hating him for being stronger. If only she could get her hands on a weapon.
“Going to behave?” He tightened his hold on her jaw.
Given his strength, she couldn’t manhandle him. Maybe she’d have to outthink him. She banked her own anger and fear, nodding slowly.
“Good girl.” He loosened his hold on her face, letting his fingers caress her jawline before lowering his hand. Then, before she knew what he was about, he looped the leather bindings over her wrists and bound them once more.
Firelight cast his face in shadows, his eyes like two blue orbs shining in the darkness. Her heartbeat quickened like the wings of a hummingbird trapped inside her chest. “Please. No more. I…I promise not to run.”
He held her bound
hands between them with one hand and with the other smoothed her curls from around her face. “Shh, kitten. It’s time for sleeping. That’s all.”
Before she could protest, he leaned in and kissed her. A soft, simple tasting of his lips on hers. Not demanding. Almost comforting. And yet it stole her breath with its sweetness.
He slid his free hand down her shoulder and arm to her back. He pulled her closer but didn’t press anymore. He held her as if she might break, repeating the soft kiss over and over until she melted up against him.
“That’s it, kitten. Relax,” he murmured against her lips while his hand massaged her upper back. He delved in again, his tongue sliding through her parted lips to taste her as if she were some rich dessert to be savored over time.
He tasted just as delicious. She wanted more, to indulge until her stomach ached from him and the need clawing its way from her sex to her chest. Just as she decided to surrender, he pulled away, their lips clinging a moment longer, breath mixing as they parted.
Still flushed from his kiss, she lifted her gaze to his and opened her mouth to beg for more. He settled a finger on her lips, stilling her plea. “Sleep.”
With a gentleness that shocked her, he eased her down onto his bedroll, which he’d spread out near the fire. He sat beside her and pulled off his boots, then his gun. He laid them on the far side out of her reach.
She curled on her side away from him.
What game was he playing now? He said they were only going to sleep. Why would he kiss her like that if he didn’t mean to use her body? Could she trust him? Or was this a trick? He’d wait until she was relaxed, then pounce?
Beside her, he shifted, spooning in behind her. She jumped as he pulled the blanket up over them both, his hand resting just under her breasts.
“I can see the questions filling your head. Stop thinking. Nothing is going to happen tonight.” He let out a yawn. “Just sleep.”
Lying perfectly still, she waited for his hand to move or his body to press closer. Then his breathing became rhythmic and he started to snore just above her ear, the soft sound of someone sleeping.
A movement across the camp caught her attention. Dakota stepped out of the trees. He circled the horses, checking their tethers, his hands brushing against their hides. Stopping at each one’s head, he leaned in and whispered something to them.
The Surrender of Lacy Morgan Page 7
