Belle Gone Bad

by Sabine Starr

  “No!” He grasped her shoulders and lightly shook her. “That’s not okay. I won’t send you out there alone to confront four outlaws. I don’t know how much help I can be, but I’ll wear that six-gun on my hip and I’ll learn how to shoot it.”

  “I won’t turn down your help. I like to work with a partner. At some point, I might be so tired that I’d miss a track or an important clue in a conversation. I’ll be glad of your backup.”

  “You’ve got it. And you’ve got anything else you want from me.”

  She looked steadily at him. “Is that because you owe me?”

  “No. That’s because I adore you.”

  She glanced down, shaking her head. “You’re embarrassing me again.”

  He put a fingertip under her chin and lifted her face so he could look into her eyes. “I suppose big, tough lawmen don’t say things like that.”

  “They certainly do not.” She chuckled. “But I don’t mind hearing it.”

  “Good. I can guarantee you’re going to hear a whole lot more.”

  “You’re a pretty fine man.”

  “Thanks. I’ll take a compliment any time I can get it.”

  She smiled as she reached up and traced the contours of his face. “Not bad-looking, either.”

  “Keep that up and you’ll turn my head.”

  “I doubt it. Not after all that Free Love.”

  He chuckled, tucking her head against his chest and holding her tight. “Let’s compromise.”

  “How?”

  “I’ll keep watch. ”

  “Are you sure?”

  “You need rest as much as I do.”

  She leaned back and searched his face with serious eyes. “I’d sleep if I knew you kept watch.”

  “That’s what we’ll do.”

  “Okay. But only a couple of hours.”

  “Here.” He smoothed out her blanket. “Lie down beside me and get some rest.”

  “Thanks.” She lay on her side, squirmed to get comfortable, and tucked her hands beneath her cheek.

  He squeezed her shoulder, feeling indulgent. He’d let her sleep for now. She needed to be fresh to resume the hunt for Diana. But later, he expected she might like to experience a bit of Free Love.

  And he’d be right there to entice her.

  Chapter 18

  Belle slowly awoke to the sound of a crackling campfire. When she opened her eyes, she saw a glimmer of grayness in the eastern sky. Dawn wasn’t too far away. She felt rested, even light-hearted. Mercy lay curled around her with a hand possessively or protectively across her stomach.

  At one time she might have been upset that he hadn’t woken her or that he had fallen asleep during his watch or that he had the temerity to hold her. But she felt none of that on this glorious morning. Instead, she felt as if she’d come home. Was it using her Rattler power? Was it being with Mercy? Was it helping another? She wasn’t sure. But after so much emotional pain for so long, she reveled in her feelings of peace and happiness.

  “Belle, are you awake?”

  She felt Mercy’s breath soft against her check, his long fingers gentle across her stomach, and his shaft hard against her bottom. He left no doubt that he wanted her, and she felt an upwelling of longing in return. Perhaps what she needed was Free Love and a man who made her feel like a woman again.

  “We’ve got Mama Lou’s molasses muffins for breakfast. I can make cowboy coffee. I already added fuel to the fire so we’d have light and heat.”

  She rolled onto her back and gazed at him. “I’m not hungry for food.” She reached up and cradled his face in the palms of her hands. “I’m hungry for you.”

  He smiled a smile that spread across his face until it reached his luminous gray eyes.

  She wasn’t normally impulsive, nor did she take chances, but today she dug her fingers into his thick, auburn hair and pulled his face downward until his lips touched hers. A spark leaped between them. All thought fled as he kissed her with an intensity that swept her away on a tide of rising passion.

  Mercy licked, nibbled, nipped her lips, and then he thrust into her mouth with his tongue. She sucked him deeper, twining with him, challenging him, encouraging him even as she rose up to meet him thrust for thrust. She hadn’t realized how hungry she’d been for a man. Yet not just any man. This man. He was the one who had the ability to simultaneously soothe her soul and set her on fire.

  He raised his head as he took a sharp breath. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

  She unbuttoned the first button of his shirt. “Show me.”

  “Do you think I’ll remember how?” He smiled with a teasing twist of his lips.

  “I’m willing to take a chance that you do.”

  “If I forget anything important, remind me.”

  “If I remember.”

  He nuzzled her neck, tracing the long length with the tip of his tongue. “You smell good. Like lavender.”

  She chuckled. “You smell like muffins.”

  “What?”

  “I believe you’re wearing crumbs from last night.”

  “Forget them and taste me.”

  She was happy to do it. She unbuttoned the next two buttons of his shirt and pulled it wide to bare the hard muscles of his chest, sculpted into perfection when he’d carved wood with his strong hands. She dusted off a few crumbs, saw they’d stuck to her fingertips, and sucked them into her mouth.

  “Taste good?”

  “Yes, but I bet you taste better.”

  “Why don’t you find out?”

  A light sprinkling of dark hair covered his tawny skin. She couldn’t resist running her fingers through it. She moved lower beneath his shirt to scrape a nail across his nipple and felt it harden under her touch.

  He groaned. “What happened to tasting me?”

  “Give me time. I’m exploring.”

  Abruptly, he sat up, jerked off his vest, flung it aside, and then reached for the buttons of his shirt.

  “Let me.” She unbuttoned his shirt down to the waistband of his trousers, then stopped. “I’ve run into trouble.”

  “More than you realize.” He quickly pulled out his shirttail.

  She freed the last buttons and then watched as he shucked his shirt and cast it aside. Naked from the waist up, he was a tantalizing sight. Belle licked her lower lip, anticipating tasting him, touching his broad chest, moving lower to his shaft. With just that thought, she felt a deep, hot ache blossom and spread outward to engulf her entire body.

  He straddled her hips before he leaned over and put his forearms on either side of her face. “Is this good for you?”

  “Perfect.” She placed the palms of her hands over his nipples and squeezed the muscles of his chest. She was satisfied to hear him groan in response. She rubbed each nipple to a hard peak, feeling her breasts swell and her own nipples harden in response to his reaction. She felt desperate to taste him. She caressed the hard muscles of his shoulders as she pulled him close. She licked the tip of each nipple before sucking and nipping to her heart’s content as she stroked down his back to clasp the taut muscles of his butt. This time his groan was louder. She gripped harder and moaned her own escalating desire.

  “If you taste me much more, I’m going to melt,” Mercy said in a rough, raspy voice.

  “Please melt.”

  She stroked up his back to his shoulders, feeling the light sheen of sweat that now coated his sleek, warm skin. She licked his chest, reveling in the salty, tangy taste of him. Everything about him was winding her tighter and driving her toward a desperate need for release. She glanced up at his face.

  He looked at her with gray eyes gone dark with passion, and then he lowered his face and planted a heated kiss on her lips.

  She wanted more, so much more. She bit his lower lip, sucked it into her mouth, and nibbled until she heard him groan. Only then did she let him go.

  He pushed up on his knees, smiling lazily at her.

  She pressed both hands against the
bulge in his trousers, shivering with excitement. She grasped the long, hard length of him through fabric. She toyed with him, feeling him grow harder under her touch just as she ached and burned and grew wet for him in her most intimate of places.

  “Shall I taste-test,” she panted, “to make sure you’re heated to perfection?”

  “Much longer and I’ll burn to a cinder.” He grasped her hands, shaking his head as if to clear it. “Wait. Are you sure you want to carry this further?”

  Surprised at the seriousness of his voice, she glanced up. Pale light cast him in a golden glow. He appeared devastatingly handsome, but also sincerely concerned for her. Memories flooded back that revealed another man’s lack of concern. Of all she’d thought to experience with Mercy, she’d never anticipated that he could be better at love than Hackett. Tears stung her eyes as she felt a double loss at what had been and what had never been.

  “Belle?”

  She shook her head, unable to speak. She mourned at the worst possible moment and felt her passion spiral inward, cooling as it went.

  Mercy abruptly sat down, lifted her, and set her on his lap. “Too much too soon?”

  She wrapped her arms around his waist and tucked her face against his bare chest, drawing in the scent of him, driving out the memory of Hackett.

  “As much as I want you, we’re not taking another step forward until I know that you’re fine with this . . . with me.”

  She looked into his gray eyes, blinking back tears. He wasn’t upset with her. He was simply concerned for her. She wasn’t used to tenderness. Not anymore. It made her feel weak when she had to be strong. She needed passion, simple and straightforward. Nothing more.

  “I broke one of my own rules.” He spoke quietly while he gently stroked her long hair.

  “Rule?”

  “Never make love to a woman on an empty stomach.”

  Chapter 19

  When Belle laughed at his words, Mercy joined her. Fortunately, it hadn’t taken much to cajole her out of her sad memories. She must have been thinking about Hackett. The last thing either of them needed was the ghost of her perfect lover between them. Still, he wasn’t without a haunting of his own. He kept expecting Victoria to return and lay him low.

  The best thing he could do was to keep their minds here and now as well as train their focus on each other. Food was a good way to close channels and erect barriers to the portals of the unseen.

  He grabbed the bag of Mama Lou’s goodies and tossed it into Belle’s lap.

  “Careful!” She protectively clutched the food. “We don’t want smashed muffins and fritters.”

  “They’ll taste just as good no matter what their shape.” He quickly set cheese and jerky on the napkins. “Ready to eat?”

  She nodded, smiled, and then faced the east. She raised her left hand and held her palm toward the brightening sky. “I give thanks for our bountiful food.” She cast Mercy a sly glance. “And ask for success in our partnership.”

  “I also give thanks to the Sun, the Moon, the Earth, and our Creator.” He immediately felt a change in the air as if energy gathered around them. He hoped the power didn’t awaken Victoria’s interest, or she might decide to take on Belle again.

  “I can’t think of anything better to fill my stomach.” Belle selected a muffin and handed it to him.

  “Thanks.” When he started to take a bite, she tapped his hand. He glanced at her in surprise.

  “Aren’t you going to feed me first?”

  He looked from her to the muffin and back again.

  She leaned forward and opened her mouth.

  “Where are my manners?” He chuckled as he pinched off a piece and put it in her mouth.

  She held his gaze as she slowly chewed, swallowed, and pursed her lips.

  He had to admit, she knew a thing or two about exciting a man. He felt so hot and hard that nothing would satisfy him except her luscious body.

  When she opened her mouth again, he leaned closer and slowly slipped a piece of muffin into her mouth. She smiled as she closed her lips around his finger and sucked till he felt the pressure all the way to his aching cock. She was teasing him, drawing him into her game, but two could play.

  He withdrew his finger, pinched off another piece of muffin, and placed it in her hand. He leaned toward her. She smiled with a coquettish gleam in her eyes as she put the muffin in his mouth, but she quickly withdrew her hand.

  He frowned in mock anger that she’d eluded him, but he’d learned to be a patient man. While he waited to entice her again, he decided to stoke up his own fuel. He picked up a piece of jerky, took a bite, and realized he was hungry. He ate cheese and a delicious fritter. Only then did he feel sated, but only with food. Not with Belle.

  As he drank water from his canteen, he watched her. He needed to take it slower with her, if he could. She’d only intimately known one man. After Hackett’s untimely death, she’d built him up as a paragon of virtue. Mercy didn’t know any man, living or dead, whose deeds could stand up to that type of adulation. For now, Belle appeared to have let go of Hackett’s memory. He was glad.

  “I’m ready for my dessert.” He gave her a long perusal from head to toe so she’d get the idea of where he wanted to go.

  “More muffin?” She finished off a fritter and dusted her palms together.

  “More you.”

  “Me?”

  “Not even Mama Lou’s famous muffins compare to your sweet taste.”

  “Can you be sure?”

  “Now that you mention it, probably not. I’d better compare.”

  “Where do you want to start?” She toyed with the buttons of her blouse.

  His breath caught in his throat as she quickly unbuttoned her blouse, pulled it off, tossed it aside, and gave him a come-hither look.

  He forgot everything except the sight of her breasts the size of ripe melons straining against a white lace chemise that revealed more than it covered. A crimson ribbon threaded through the lace emphasized the darkness of large nipples. He couldn’t decide which he wanted to do first, paint her or love her. At the painful surge in his shaft, he decided there was no doubt.

  But she wasn’t done enticing him. She slipped a lacy strap off one shoulder and then the other, smiling at him all the while. Without the support, her chemise sagged lower, slipping down her creamy flesh to stop just above the shadow of her nipples. He licked his lips with mounting anticipation.

  “Are you still hungry?” She cupped her hands beneath her breasts and raised the mounds to strain against sheer fabric.

  He lost the power of speech. He was hanging on to control by willpower alone. It’d been so long. She looked so luscious. He felt so needy.

  “Perhaps you’re not yet hungry enough.” On her knees, she leaned toward him and her breasts tumbled forward, escaping the confines of her chemise.

  Creamy orbs. Rosy tips. And a few freckles. He slipped every trace that had held him back and grabbed her shoulders. He wrapped his arms around her, pressing her soft, bare breasts to his chest. He ran his hands down her back and grasped her hips so he could push his aching cock against her triangle. It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough. He was on fire.

  Holding her rounded bottom with one hand, he grasped her head with the other so he could taste her sweet depths again. He pressed kisses down her throat, across her shoulders, bending her back over his arm so that he could finally feast on her voluptuous breasts.

  He kissed the tip of each one, then licked, nibbled, and sucked until they stood up in taut peaks. He squeezed her breasts as he kissed up her throat to linger on her lips again. They were now as plump and darkened as her nipples from his kisses. And still it wasn’t enough.

  “I’m hungry,” he growled.

  He grasped the waistband of her skirt, undoing the buttons, stripping it downward to reveal her lacy drawers. Sheer white lawn and lace threaded with a crimson ribbon did more to entice than to conceal. At the apex of her thighs, he could see the burnt sienna t
hat matched the thick hair of her head.

  He was past the point of no return, past specters of other people, past consideration. But to make sure he wasn’t the only one caught in the grip of passion, he pressed his fingers between her legs. She was as hot and wet and needy as he was hot and hard and desperate.

  He unbuttoned her drawers, pushed them down, along with her skirt, and stopped in amazement. She had a sprinkling of freckles across her belly to match those across her breasts and nose. If he’d known that when he’d first met her, he’d have been unable to think of anything else.

  He glanced at her face. She’d leaned back on her elbows, worrying her lower lip with her bottom teeth as if not sure of his reaction. He glanced back down. Her ankles were trapped in her clothes, so he spread her knees and knelt before her.

  “I’m ready to feast,” he said.

  “I’m not sure what you mean, but I’m not likely to deny you anything.”

  Inwardly, he cursed Hackett for not giving Belle this pleasure, but he also blessed the man for leaving Mercy the opportunity to initiate her this way. So as not to startle her, he set his hands on her knees, then slowly inched his palms up her silky inner thighs. She shivered beneath his touch but made not a sound. He held back his own need to groan. When he reached the heart of her, he hesitated before he reverently touched a fingertip to the nub of her desire. She shivered harder as he increased the pressure, sliding downward, pressing into her slick entrance, and then moving back up to fondle her nub again.

  She was so hot and wet that it wouldn’t take much to bring her to satisfaction. Afterward, maybe she would return the favor. Yet his cock ached for a different type of completion. Until he was buried deep inside her, feeling slick with her juices, he wouldn’t be satiated. But he could wait. A woman like Belle was worth a year’s hiatus. And when they came together, the wait would be well rewarded.

  He lowered his head and set his tongue to Belle’s hard nub. As he stroked up and down, delving deeper, harder, faster between her hot, slick folds, she writhed up against him, clutching the thickness of his hair as she shivered with building passion. She tasted of everything that could satisfy a man’s hunger and everything that could ease his thirst.