Harris Channing

by In Sarah's Shadow

  "Is your silence an invitation or a rejection?" He raised a dark brow and reaching for her, he kissed her lips. She wrapped her arms around him pulled him closer. If she had anything to do with it, it was going to happen and the sooner the better.

  His groan of satisfaction empowered her and her heart strummed heavy against her ribcage. Pressing her hands to his chest, she clutched the fabric of his shirt before slowly unbuttoning it. Scratchy wool met her touch but did not deter. She would feel his skin beneath her fingers. If he was going to memorize her form, she wanted to be able to close her eyes and remember this day, this moment, the feel of him, the masculine smell and taste of him. Every detail of her first time.

  Pushing the fabric from his shoulders, she nudged him back. He truly was a magnificent looking man. All sinew and strength.

  She ran her fingers through the crisp hair at the center of his broad chest. It curled around her hand, but what fascinated was just how rapidly his heart beat.

  "Your turn," he mumbled, tugging at the large black buttons that held the top of her gown together. Pushing the jacket apart, he stared down at her. "You're breasts are glorious," he mumbled, taking hold of one and caressing it through the cotton of her shift.

  Small currents of desire shot through her at his touch. She could feel her nipples grow hard and tight and she trembled at the want for more and more and more from him.

  "Let's get you of this gown," he rasped as he stared at her from beneath hooded lids. "Hurry Bobbie, I want you. I want you with a fierceness that drives me mad."

  She should have heard alarm bells ringing in her head but she didn't for she knew how he felt. She was wet, and hot and trembling with the most pleasant of fevers. With his steady hands at the ready, they removed the layers of clothing until she was naked. Modesty should have had her reaching for the sheet but instead she lay there, looking at him with an expectation that should have had a virgin scrambling. Yet she didn't move, curious to see what would happen next.

  He stood at the bedside. "I don't believe I have ever felt so much," he mumbled. "Wanted so much." He removed what remained of his clothes and for the first time in her life, she knew what power women truly possessed. Standing in the light cast from window, he seemed to glow like some God of old. If possible she grew wetter and more ready. He was unbelievably tall and chiseled and his cock…well, even though she'd never known another, judging by its length and girth, he was a very gifted man.

  Nervous and excited, she lifted her arms to him, and shoved any and all residual concerns aside. Her only thoughts and needs focused on one thing. David.

  A grin tugged the side of his mouth and he slid into her embrace, his warmth and spicy scent swirling around and through her. His weight pleasantly pressed her against the bed. He kissed her, the sensation of his mouth atop hers, the sweet heat from him and the feel of him had her writhing.

  She slid her hands over his shoulders and across the expanse of his back. Smooth skin and tight muscles met her eager touch. He drew away, the kiss leaving her breathless.

  He inched back and rising to his knees, he gathered up her breasts, holding each globe in the cups of his hands. Lowering his head, he buried his face in the tender mounds, taking turns suckling each nipple until it hardened. She threw her head back savoring the pulsing need that spiraled higher and higher within her.

  She dropped her hands and twisted them in the folds of the blanket while he continued to raise the tide of desire that threatened to overflow and drown her. His hot mouth moved further down, until he reached the soft triangle of her sex. Her lower jaw quivered as he slid his fingers in her folds. She closed her eyes, the tremble that started in her jaw traveling through her. Separating her lips with calloused fingers, he pressed his mouth to the small nub, his tongue tantalizing as he gently prodded.

  "W-What are you doing?" she asked, pressing her hips deeper in the mattress.

  "Ruining you," he said gruffly. "Marking you for life as mine."

  His possessive nature should have had her fleeing, yet she found she liked it. He wanted her. He wanted her to be his. Yes. She could live with that.

  He returned to his sensual task, his tongue flicking the button until she let out a frustrated grumble. Something deep within her built, the floodgates threatening to give way, but when? When would they release and end her delicious agony?

  When he pulled away and reclaimed her lips, her ardor had her clutching him, grinding against him. She was no longer human, she had become an animal. An animal that would not be denied. No turning back. No regrets. This was what she wanted. What she had to have.

  When she raised her knee, he slipped his hand between her legs, rubbing her sex into a heated frenzy. "Tell me you want me, Bobbie," he mumbled against her mouth. "Say the words. I need to hear them."

  She swallowed her passion and stared up at him. "I want you David," she said, her tone demanding, her voice foreign in her ears. "So much."

  "Then I'm yours, with all that entails."

  Pushing her knees apart, he gazed at her before settling between her legs. His chest rose and fell as he gasped for air. Pressing the head of his cock at the entrance of her sex, his eyes glazed with passion. Gently, he pushed deeper into her and her mind hummed with the pleasure she expected to follow their foreplay.

  Deeper and deeper he delved into her folds and despite the care he took, the pain of her virginity giving way had her drawing in a sharp breath. Her ardor chilled and tears slipped from the corners of her eyes.

  "I'm sorry love. First time hurts. But it will get better."

  He bent forward and caressed her cheek, his expression one of sympathy.

  Biting her lower lip, she wondered if she should push him off. Wondered when the pain would subside. Wondered what had possessed her to allow this to happen.

  And then he moved within her, slowly drawing back before thrusting forward. With each movement, the pain began to ease, replaced by a warmth and need unlike any other.

  "Better?" he asked, his body trembling.

  "Yes," she admitted, her breathing heavy, as small drops of perspiration coated her skin.

  He set his elbows on either side of her head and kissed her, the emotion in his action so pure, so full of promise that she could barely contain the sigh of passion that whooshed through her. He was hers with all that entailed.

  Still kissing her, he moved in and out of her body, the heated friction warming her and sending ripples of delight coursing through her. Pushing up on his hands, he increased his tempo yet again, his slick cock massaging her from within.

  Dear God, what was he doing? How had he become the master of her flesh? She arched against him, accepting his entire length. What was happening? Her world seemed to tilt. There was so much more to love making than she ever thought possible. She gave and accepted pleasure with a feral sort of magic she wanted to hold onto but would have to be satisfied to recapture. For in her mind, this was no longer a one time occurrence. No, she would be content to make love to him every day of her life, for there was no holding onto the waves of pleasure that now beat against her core. No denying how much her body longed for his.

  Pumping deep into her, he left all caution behind. He pushed in further still, touching her in places she never knew existed but from now on would long for his attention.

  She lifted her knees higher, insisting that he not stop until she was satisfied.

  When he called out her name, she wrapped her legs about him, clutching his back, clinging to him for dear life. Finally, whatever lock held her at bay gave way and what started as delightful ripples washed through her before a tidal wave of passion that had her whimpering.

  At her release, he too, moaned. His body stilled and, his jaw tightened. With a shudder, he came, emptying his seed deep within, the warmth spreading through her with such strength that she reached for him, clung to him with frantic fingers.

  Tangled in her embrace, he lay atop her, his cock still buried inside. Claiming her lips, he kissed
her once more before rolling on to his side.

  Spent, he stared past her as small streams of perspiration trickled from his face. His obvious frown met her searching eyes and she swallowed her shame. What was he doing? Why did he not speak? Where was the passionate man who offered himself to her? Her stomach ached with each question, each concern that filled her mind. Was he sorry for making love to her? Did he feel as though he betrayed Sarah?

  Oh, how she longed to ask the question but fear kept her quiet. No. She'd stay where she was and wonder rather than know. She'd not ask and pretend that what he said in the heat of passion was true. He belonged to her…

  As if struck by lightning, he sat up and reached for his shirt and her heart plummeted.

  "Where are you going?" she asked. Disappointed, she pulled the sheet over her body. Was that all there was? Magnificent sex followed by desertion? Maybe she wasn't as good as Sarah. Maybe she fell short of the woman once again. What began so beautifully ended with the breaking of her heart. How many times would she allow him to hurt her? She bit her lip so hard that she tasted the metal in her own blood. Never again, she vowed.

  He offered a sad sort of smile and touched her cheek. "To the trading post, remember?" He placed a kiss on her forehead. "You stay here and rest. I'll be back before sunset."

  He continued to dress and she watched, all the while biting back her anger and sorrow. Oh, how she wished she could reset the clock. But even more, she wished he would come back and kiss her again, reassure her of his feelings. He didn't. He pulled his stocking cap over his ears and marched out the door, and without so much as a glance in her direction, slammed it closed.

  She curled up into a ball and fought back the salty tears of remorse. He didn't mean what he said, he simply said what she needed to hear…words meant to seduce, not words meant as a commitment. What a fool she had been. And despite the pleasure she experienced, she'd be damned if she ever allowed him access to her again. No. She was meant to be a wife and mother, not the mother of a bastard.

  Gathering up her clothes, she began to dress. She had until sunset to visit her family and she wouldn't waste another moment of her life worrying over David Henderson. She was a free woman, she could spend her time with anyone she chose…and Reg Crocker would do in a pinch. She pushed back the notion that perhaps David's jealousy was just a little more motivation to head up the mountain.

  Chapter 17

  Damnation, had the trading post always been such a run down rat trap? Pushing open the door, David realized that sometimes being a bleary eyed drunk had its advantages.

  He stepped inside and paused, taking a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness that seemed to envelope the entire place. The musty smell, the stink of humanity and the feel of decaying boards beneath his feet had him longing for the warmth and cleanliness of his home with Roberta.

  Roberta, just the thought of her had his cock growing hard. Damnation, how had the little vixen captured his heart so completely? And how had her common sense, her prodding, and her sharp tongue pulled him through a nightmare that he couldn't awaken from? Five years of his life he mourned a woman who couldn't be faithful…and yet he loved without condition. Yes, they argued, yes they fought, but he would have never left her, never left a child that could have been his. And until Bobbie entered his life, he could have never forgiven himself for her death. Now, he knew that sometimes things were beyond a man's control and that maybe it would be all right to move forward.

  Pushing the thoughts of Sarah down, he searched the large, drafty cabin for Henry. The place was filled to capacity. Barrels, boxes, saddles, and jars of food littered the place in a haphazard array that only Henry could successfully maneuver.

  Out of habit, his gaze traveled to the far corner where Henry stored his overflowing stash of alcohol. His mouth watered at the thought of whiskey sliding down his parched throat. He took a step forward but stopped. What was he thinking? Curling his hands at his sides, he marched deeper into the shop determined not to let that demon back into his body. Never again did he want to lose track of just who he was.

  "Henry!" he shouted, and at the sound of feet hitting the floor above him, he knew the man had been napping in the loft. And who could blame him? There was little else for him to do…save clean up his store.

  Henry scrambled down the ladder and raced toward him. His round face flush, his white-gray curls smashed beneath a felt cap. Rushing up to David, he shoved his hand out, and smiled.

  "David Henderson, while I live and breathe."

  Taking Henry's hand, he grinned. It was good to see the old man. "How's business?"

  "Not so good, but it ain't never great and this damned weather has surely messed me over." He withdrew his hand and set it on the back of his neck, his gaze scanning David's form. "But look at you! All sobered up." He drew a deep breath in through his nose. "And clean!"

  David let out an embarrassed chuckle. "Yeah, women will do that for you…you're a bit on the ripe side yourself."

  "Ahhh," Henry's mouth opened wide and he nodded his head. "I've heard tell that there was a lady at your place. Shame about her family though."

  His stomach knotted. No doubt Reg had been here spouting off his gossip. Damn the man for existing. "A real shame, if the daughter is an indicator of the rest of her kin, the world is worse off without them."

  There was glint in the old fellow's eye and a smile on his lips. "Aye son, but you're better off for having her."

  David swallowed hard as emotion crept into his heart and what was probably a stupid grin crossed his mouth. Memories of her body beneath his as she gave him her virginity filled him with a restlessness that had him wanting to fall at her feet and confess all his feelings. The feel, smell, and taste of her still lingered on him. When she gave herself, she gave herself completely and damnation he liked it that way. Liked that he was the first man to have her. Loved the notion of being the only man to ever share her bed.

  He pulled off his cap and ran his fingers through his hair, the dream of growing old with her saturated his thoughts, the pleasure of witnessing their children grow into men and women something that had him taking a step back. He knew before he'd left her bed that he would marry her…and he would do it today!

  "What's the matter?" Henry asked, his gray eyes alive with obvious concern. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

  "No Henry, just a flash of what I pray will be my future."

  "And just what might that be?" Henry asked, fishing out a plug of tobacco from his coat pocket and pressing it into his mouth.

  "I'm going to marry that girl."

  Henry let out a holler of approval. "Ah, now that is serious."

  "Do you have any rings…oh and I'll be needing a haircut and a few other things. Do you think you can set me up?"

  Henry laughed and clapped his hands. He looked as though he were about to start dancing a jig. Hell, in the mood he was in, he may very well join him!

  With a sharp pat to the back, Henry led him to the back of the store. "Welcome back David," he said with a tobacco stained grin. "I sure have missed you."

  ***

  Bobbie's anger hadn't subsided. No, if anything it had grown more vitriolic. How dare he just up and leave her lying their in her own blood! No compassion. No gentle pulling away. Just a sharp slap to her pride…

  Walking up the narrow path toward Reg's place, she determined that perhaps if things didn't change, she'd live with the man David hated. That would show him! But even as she contemplated her vengeance, she couldn't deny how wonderful their love making had been. It was as if he opened a door to a world of pleasure she didn't want to close. No. She wanted to walk through and discover more and more with him.

  And even though her thoughts on the matter began with a one time experience, he had promised her things…things she had denied she wanted when in fact, they were all she wanted. How was she supposed to get past his passionate words of promise?

  Her stomach twisted into a painful knot and she cros
sed her arms over her chest to stifle the sob that threatened to pop from her lips. "You're better off," she mumbled. "He probably killed Sarah in a fit of rage."

  She spewed the bitter bile all the while realizing that she'd never truly believed that or she wouldn't have allowed what happened to happen, nor would she have stayed as long as she had. If she had thought for a moment he was capable of murder, she would have run from him instead of staring at him over dinner, or worrying over him when he became restless. Would a woman in fear fall asleep listening to a villain breathe?

  With the snow crunching beneath her boots, Bobbie looked toward the sky. Bright yellow sun glinted off ice coated tree limbs. Birds sang in the distance and despite the wind that pushed at her back, she felt nothing but aggrieved disappointment.

  When Reg's cabin came into view, she dropped her hands to her sides and inhaled a chilled, cleansing breath. What was she doing here? She had come under the guise of visiting her parents and she would. But did she really want to lay eyes on Reg Crocker? The answer to that was simple. No.

  For just as she had tried to unsuccessfully convince herself that David was a scoundrel, there was no way she could convince herself that Reg was anything but rotten to the core. Still, she had come this far and she wouldn't go until she sat beside her mother and talked to her about David. God help her, she needed her mother now more than ever. Just to have someone to tell her she wasn't a fool, just a simple touch from someone lacking an agenda.

  At the sound of the cabin door squeaking open, Roberta's heart grew heavier. There he stood in all his fine clothes, a bright blue scarf in contrast to his black frock coat.