Western Ways

by Tysche Dwai

  He reached up and caught her hand. “Starr—”

  She was the most desirable woman he had ever met—none of the citified pretension of the girls he had met at school. And so vulnerable as she lowered her eyes and bit her lip.

  “Of course I want to kiss you, Starr...but it is generally the man who asks.”

  “I know...but you’re—you—you just smell so damn good,” she blurted out, the words spilling forth in a rush.

  He blinked. “Excuse me?”

  If anything, her blush deepened. “I know. It’s stupid. But most of the men ‘round here smell of stables and sweat. You smell...” Her little nose wrinkled, and he saw her chest heave with a deep breath. “You smell like soap and starch.”

  Jayne laughed. He simply couldn’t help himself. “Thank you. I think.”

  “I’ll be going now.”

  He tugged gently on the hand he held, and drew her onto his lap. “You’re not going anywhere,” he replied firmly, and he gave her the kiss she’d asked for.

  Her lips were soft under his, surprisingly so for a woman who spent so much of her time outdoors. Warm, and tasting of cinnamon and chicory.

  The kiss deepened. He knocked at her closed lips with the tip of his tongue and they parted for him. Tentatively, he explored her mouth, feeling a surge of arousal as her tongue met his and began its own exploration.

  Without conscious thought, his hand slipped to cup her firm breast beneath the rough fabric of her shirt. She felt so good ... warm and alive. He unbuttoned the top button of her shirt, and ran the back of his hand across the smooth skin of her breast.

  Starr moaned, deep in her throat, the sound hungry and full of longing. Her arms tightened around him.

  Jayne eased her back onto the bed. He broke the kiss with a ragged sigh. “Starr—”

  “Just kiss me,” she breathed, pulling him down on top of her. “Teach me something I don’t know...”

  He sat up enough to unbutton the rest of her shirt, laying it open like the leaves of a book. Her breasts were firm, nut-brown on the tops and white as milk where her shirt normally covered the warm skin. He bent and paid homage to the rosebud nipples gracing each. She arched and purred like a kitten, pushing her breast against his face.

  Jayne shed his own shirt, and she reached up, running her fingers through the tufts of golden curls nestling there. The sensation sent a shiver of delight from his scalp to his toes. His cock surged against its confinement.

  “What do you want me to teach you, Starr?” he murmured, eyes searching her face.

  The flush rose once more in her cheeks—she was sure one to show her emotions. “I—I want you to make love to me, Teacher. I ain’t never said that to any one afore. Now, I ain’t saying I ain’t never had sex afore, but that was different.”

  A flash of unaccountable jealousy ran through him. Her past was none of his concern. They had only just met. She was a healthy young woman in a rough and tumble world. What would have been considered loose morals in the straight-laced East were probably normal mores here in the wild, wild West.

  “Well, it weren’t my idea,” she huffed, propping herself up on her elbows. “Pa done married me to the man to keep him in line.”

  Jayne leapt from the bed, ardor dashed. “Married?” There were some lines he wouldn’t cross.

  Starr bit her lip. “It weren’t like a real marriage, and it didn’t last long anyhow.”

  “What happened?”

  She sat up, gathered her shirt together and began to button it, her fingers shaking. “He kilt my Pa. I kilt him back.”

  He sank down on the bed beside her, capturing her fluttering hands in his. “Starr—”

  “I shouldn’t have come here.” Her voice was low and rapid. “This was all a mistake.”

  “Starr...” His hand reached out to touch her copper curls. “You are so beautiful.”

  She looked up at him, and her green eyes were swimming in tears. “You think I’m beautiful?” she whispered.

  “Oh, yes.” He bent and kissed her again. “Can we start over?”

  She looked down at her shirt, half re-buttoned, and then gave it a sharp jerk. Buttons flew in all directions. “Takes too long the other way,” she said with an impish grin.

  In a matter of minutes, the rest of their clothing lay pooled on the floor beside the bed. Jayne looked down at her slim, taut body, lean and hard-muscled from her rigorous lifestyle. The copper fire of her hair was mirrored in the valley of her sex. She was so tiny and perfect...

  Starr cocked her head, looking up at him with that come-hither smile. “You just gonna look all night?”

  His member was an iron bar jutting from his groin, and he grinned back. “No. No, I don’t think so.”

  He climbed onto the bed beside her and dropped a light trail of kisses from the crown of her head to the juncture of her thighs. His tongue flicked between the folds of her sex, tasting the exotic nectar of her innermost secrets. The scent of her—that cinnamon and musk aroma, filled his nostrils, and he moaned aloud.

  The sound translated into a burr of movement against her sensitive flesh, and Starr echoed his moan.

  “Take me now, Teacher—please.”

  He eased the tip of his cock between her folds and hissed with pleasure. She fit him like a second skin. He pushed forward slowly, savoring every centimeter of contact. At last, he could not hold back. He buried himself to the hilt in the sheath of her. She bucked beneath him, her hands raking his back.

  He moaned again, unable to stop himself. The sensations surging through every fiber of his being set his nerves on fire. Starr whimpered in pleasure, rising up to meet each thrust. They rode the waves higher and higher until at last they crested together with a mutual cry of delight.

  He rolled to the side, lying on his back and staring at the white-washed ceiling of the little house. “That was spectacular, Starr.”

  She snuggled against him. “I knew you could teach me a thing or two.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “I think the feeling is mutual,” he said with a chuckle. “But I bet there are more lessons you could learn.”

  “Right now, I’m a might interested in history...like, how did you come to be in this here hellhole?”

  “My father died about a month ago, carriage accident. His lawyer called me to the office to give me the news that I was now a pauper, and if I didn’t find work soon, I’d be out on the street.”

  “That’s terrible. Sorry for your loss.”

  Jayne shrugged. “It’s funny...I always thought it would hurt more that he was gone...but it really just was inconvenient. I guess we were never really very close.”

  “So how’d you come to be here?” Starr repeated.

  Jayne thought back to the meeting with the lawyer. The scene re-played in his head.

  “Come in, come in, Jayne,” Burnhardt called jovially, rising from behind his desk like a breaching whale, but not stepping forward. “We have matters of great import to discuss.”

  Jayne stepped into the office and shut the door. “You said you needed to go over Father’s estate...?” The question lingered in the air.

  “Yes...yes, I do. Sit down.”

  Jayne sank down on the client chair, nervously fiddling with the hat that had been Father’s final gift—a graduation token. “What is it you need to say?”

  “I understand you have recently received your teaching degree.”

  “Yes, sir. That is correct.”

  “Excellent. Have you a position lined up?”

  Jayne hesitated briefly, then plunged ahead, “Well, I have applied to Einsbrook Academy. I hope to hear back from them any day now.”

  “I see.” The lawyer frowned and leaned forward on the desk with a sigh, hands clasped across the blotter. “There's no easy way to put this, Jayne... The truth is, you can’t afford to wait for Einsbrook Academy to decide whether or not you have a position. You need work immediately to survive.”

  Jayne sighed. “When I went to s
ee Father’s lawyer, he told me Father died owing money to an amazing number of creditors. His illness ate up any reserves he once possessed, and the house was heavily mortgaged. It had to be sold to pay the remainder of his debts. Apparently, Father didn’t want me worrying about such things, because he was very diligent in keeping me ignorant of these facts.”

  “Must have been some shock,” Starr commented, resting chin in hand as she looked down at him.

  “A bit, I assure you,” Jayne chuckled. The memory had lost its sting now that he was here in Temptation—with its living personification of the name in his bed. “He told me the bank was generously giving me to the end of the week to remove my things from the house, but then I would be on the streets unless I found a position at once.”

  “And this lawyer was the gent who I sent a letter to?”

  “As it happens, he was. He apologized for Temptation being ‘the back of beyond’ but assured me the offer of a house of my own with twenty dollars a month plus meals was too good to turn down.”

  “And it is, too. Last teacher only got fifteen a month, but I made them raise it. Hoping to keep the next one longer.” She winked at him.

  “You had no way of knowing who would respond...what made the last teacher leave in a hurry?” Jayne asked suspiciously.

  “Seems she decided this was a little too close to Hell for her tastes and went home to Mama.” Starr’s face twisted into a rueful frown. “I thought I had me a good friend there, but she hasn’t even sent a postcard back.”

  Something in her tone bespoke a hurt that made Jayne want to comfort. He sat up in the bed and reached for her. She came into his arms with a smile.

  This time, their lovemaking was slower. Jayne explored every inch of her body with eyes, lips, hands...feasting on her. Starr reciprocated with an enthusiasm Jayne found strangely compelling. They worked themselves around, head to foot, placing new horizons before hungry eyes. When he found himself gazing admiringly at the fiery curls nestled between her legs, he dipped his head down to taste again. This time, their juices were mixed, and the smell of himself on her was intensely arousing. As he lapped at her cunt, he felt Starr’s hot mouth close on his organ, and drew in a hiss of surprise.

  He shifted a bit to give her better access, moaning as she began to lave the shaft with her tongue. He felt himself stiffening as she worked her magic, and could hear her moans as well.

  When he could feel the tension mounting to the inevitable outcome, he tried to break away from her and reverse their positions, but she pulled harder on his cock. He gave in and redoubled his efforts, nipping gently at the tiny bud of her clit. As his seed roared out of him into the waiting vessel of her throat, he tasted a wash of fresh juices from her inner depths, and felt her spasms of release.

  Spent, he gasped for breath, and crawled to the head of the bed. Starr blinked hooded eyes at him, her hair struggling free of its confinement to frame her face in damp copper curls. He had never met anyone to compare with this Western siren.

  She grinned at him. “Now that was a proper lesson, Teacher.”

  “Are you ever going to call me anything but ‘Teacher’?”

  A delicate flush started on her bosom and worked its way up her throat to her cheeks. “I just can’t bring myself to call so down-right delectably manly a man ‘Jayne.’ I-it’s a girl’s name. How’d you come to be stuck with it anyhow?”

  He threw back his head and laughed. “Jane was my grandmother’s name. My mother had already promised her to name the baby after her, and the mere fact I was a boy wasn’t going to stop her. She added the ‘y’ because she thought it might look more masculine. Still had to do my share of setting people straight over the years though.” He remembered with satisfaction the schoolyard bully whose nose would forever lean a bit to the left after meeting his fist a time or two.

  “What about I call you, Jay? Is that a fitting compromise?”

  He dropped a kiss on her nose. “Suits me fine. I left Jayne in the ivy-covered house back East, I reckon,” he drawled.

  Starr giggled. “Good enough.”

  “What about you? How did you get the name Starr?”

  “Ain’t it obvious? My pa was sheriff, and his pa afore him. Been a Prescott sheriff of this town as long as there has been a Temptation. Ma died afore she could speak up on the matter, so Pa figured he’d name me after the thing that meant the most to him—his badge.”

  Jayne shook his head with a chuckle. “Well, I think it’s entirely appropriate, however it came to be.”

  She sighed, and planted a kiss on his lips. “I should be heading home, Teach—Jay. It’s getting late.”

  He hugged her to him, whispering into her curls, “I know...but I wish you didn’t have to go.”

  She kissed him again and then broke away from the embrace. “I’ll be back. But I’ve got to see to the transport of a prisoner in the morning. Duty before delight, as my pa always said.”

  He frowned. Her work had seemed exotic and adventurous when they were just talking about it—but confronted with the reality, it seemed downright dangerous. “A little thing like you transporting a criminal?”

  She threw back her head with a peal of laughter. “I make sure he gets on the stage—with my six foot four inch three hundred pound deputy watching him.” She winked again. “I may be foolhardy, but I ain’t stupid.”

  Crawling over him, she began to gather up her clothing and slip into it as best she could.

  “Darn fool thing to do, scattering the buttons like that,” she admonished herself, looking down at the unfastened shirt. “Good thing it is dark out.”

  He sat up and snaked his own shirt off the floor, tossing it to her. “Here, take mine. Roll up the sleeves, and it won’t look too bad in the dark. I have plenty—or will when my trunk gets here.”

  “That ain’t come yet? I told them no-account idjits at the stage depot to make sure it got over here afore dark.”

  “I’m sure they’ll deliver it soon,” he soothed, rising to his feet and stretching.

  “You keep doing that and I may just have to pop back into bed.” Starr buttoned the shirt and tucked it into the waistband of her skirt. “There. At least I’m a mite more respectable.”

  He pulled on his pants and picked up the lantern from the table. “I’ll show you out.”

  “Ain’t like I can’t see the door,” she said with a smile.

  “A gentleman doesn’t let a lady leave unescorted.”

  “I don’t know how gentleman-like you are, but I sure ain’t no lady.”

  But she made no further protest as he went to open the door for her. The trunk was propped against the side of the house.

  “Oh, Lord,” moaned Starr, shaking her head. “That weren’t here when I drove up. Now everyone in town will know I was visiting the teacher of an evening.”

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  “Guess we’ll soon see,” she replied with a shrug. She heaved herself up onto the seat of the wagon. “Have a nice night, Teacher.”

  Clicking her tongue at the patient horse, she turned the wagon and headed into the night. Jayne watched her go until the wagon was completely swallowed by the darkness.

  With a sigh, he slung the trunk up to his shoulder and carried it into the tiny house. He would need some way to hang his clothes, or he’d be a poor example to his students in wrinkled trousers.

  For tonight, he contented himself with arranging the books in the bookcase and setting out the few trinkets he had salvaged from the house—a pair of silver candlesticks that had been in his Mother’s dowry; his Father’s magnifying glass and the stereopticon with its prized box of slides. He shook out the clothes in the trunk and refolded what could be stored flat, using the lower shelf of the bookcase for temporary storage. The clothes that should hang, he draped on the back of his chair for the night. Tomorrow, he’d see about that lumber order.

  Suddenly, there was a pounding on his front door. Startled, he moved to open it, and a breathless Starr fel
l into his arms. “Go ring the bell!” she gasped. “My house is afire.”

  He sat her down in the chair and sprinted up the hill toward the school. Hoping he didn’t trip and break an ankle in the dark, he squinted ahead of him through the gloom. There was the white frame building, glowing softly in the starlight.

  The bell hung motionless from its supports. Jayne stumbled the last few yards to it, out of breath from the dash, and grabbed the bell-rope. He hauled on it with all his strength, setting the heavy clapper dancing.

  He could hear voices in the night as people left their houses to see what the noise was about. “Fire at the sheriff’s house!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. “Fire!”

  He heard the clang of the fire wagon as it began its journey, and realized he didn’t even know where Starr’s house was. Would the crew get there in time? Had he delayed things by his unfamiliarity with the terrain? Was there a quicker path to take to the critical bell?

  He jerked the rope harder, mindlessly ringing the bell. Until a hand on his arm made him start.

  “That’s done it, Jay. Whole town is on their way over to the house. If anything can be saved, it will.”

  “What happened, Starr?” he asked, taking her in his arms and hugging her tight. “My God—if you had been caught inside...”

  “I think that's just what someone wanted to have happen,” she replied grimly. “It was already blazing when I drove up. I smelt kerosene clear to the barn, and I saw a bar across the door. Good thing I was at your place, or I would probably been burnt alive. Unless the no-good varmint shot me first trying to get out a window or something.”

  “Who would do a thing like this?”

  “Could be any one of a dozen folk. Sheriff is never a popular person with the elements who like this sort of thing...and a lady sheriff is twice as bad.”

  “Should we go help with the fire?”

  She shook her head, the motion barely visible in the dim starlight. “No call to. I could tell the house would be a total loss. I do hope they can keep it from spreading to the barn though. More worried about the neighbors. A fire in this heat can be devastating.”