It took all of the strength in Jubal’s body to keep himself from plunging into Maggie’s sweet, ready femininity. But he was sure that he’d explode immediately if he did. He wanted to know that Maggie’s pleasure was complete first. The best and quickest way he knew of to assure that complete pleasure was one that was chancy, because Maggie was a proper lady. But Jubal was about to bust, so he decided it was worth the risk.
Whispering sweet endearments the entire time, he kissed his way from her breasts to her belly to her thighs, and then to her precious womanhood. Very carefully, he risked a brief kiss. When he glanced up from between her thighs, Maggie’s eyes had opened in astonishment.
“It’s all right, Maggie,” he whispered, praying that she wouldn’t rebel.
His gratitude was impossible to measure when she sighed a soft, “Oh, yes,” closed her eyes, and he felt her hips arch under his lips. He dipped his tongue into her honeyed depths once more, heard her gasp a low moan of pleasure, and was momentarily afraid that he would burst even before he was inside her.
Maggie hadn’t realized it was possible to feel the sensations that shot through her body as Jubal’s lips and tongue pleasured her. Her skin was on fire and she had never felt so alive. Liquid heat coursed through her body. And the pressure was building and building until she thought for sure she was going to shatter into a million pieces.
And then she did. Suddenly, in one gasping, shimmering, wave of pleasure, she exploded in a burst of light. She was sure the scattered fragments of herself would never float to earth again.
For some time Maggie had been dimly aware that the tiny, gasping, mewing noises she was hearing were coming from her own throat. With the incredible surge of energy that Jubal sent coursing through her body, she nearly screamed. A ragged cry of pleasure tore from her throat and ended in a gasping sob.
She was still feeling the rippling spasms of her orgasm when Jubal, with a harsh moan of anticipation, lifted his body over hers, and thrust his aching sex into her dripping treasure.
Maggie received him with something close to reverence. She had never experienced such ecstasy in her life, hadn’t known it even existed on earth.
“Oh, God, Maggie, you feel so damned good,” Jubal groaned in her ear. Her sheath was still contracting with residual spasms of fulfillment, and Jubal felt as though his very life’s essence were being sucked out of him.
It had been so long, and he was so hot, and Maggie felt so good, that four or five deep, exquisite thrusts sent him hurtling after Maggie into the most amazing bliss he’d ever experienced. His seed shot from him in frantic bursts of pleasure.
When he eventually came back down to mortal soil, he wasn’t sure he’d ever recover. He didn’t want to. Maggie’s body felt like sleek satin underneath his. His face pressed into the hollow of her throat and he wanted to drink of her forever. His shuddering spasms of pleasure subsided only slowly.
When he became aware of his surroundings, he was surprised to find himself murmuring sweet words into Maggie’s satiny skin.
“Oh, God, Maggie, I didn’t know it could be so good.”
Maggie herself was sobbing. Jubal became aware of that fact only gradually and, when he did, he was aghast.
He lifted his head and stared at her with terrible concern. “Maggie, are you all right?” He stroked her hair back from her damp face, and peered at her. “Did I hurt you?”
Maggie took a deep breath and sobbed, “Oh, my Lord, Jubal Green, I didn’t know anything on earth could feel that good.”
She didn’t even try to stop crying. Rather, she flung her arms around Jubal’s sweat-soaked shoulders and hugged him to her so hard that Jubal was afraid he’d crush her.
Still, he was a happy man. He had been afraid his own needs were so overwhelming that he hadn’t given Maggie the full measure of the pleasure she deserved. Apparently, he needn’t have worried.
When Maggie finally quit sobbing, she rained ecstatic kisses over Jubal’s face. She traced his high, chiseled cheekbones and his beautiful, sensual mouth with her fingers.
“My Lord, Mr. Green, I know this is a sin, but I don’t even care right now. And I know a real lady would never say such a thing, but thank you. I didn’t know anything could feel that good.”
“It’s not a sin, Maggie. And you are a real lady. You’re the finest lady I ever met. And I wanted you to feel it. God knows, I wanted you to feel it.”
Jubal kissed her again, so hard and so thoroughly that his manhood began to stir once more. He figured he’d better stop that right now, or Maggie would probably get scared. He didn’t know very many women who wanted it more than once a month or so, much less twice in one night. He hoped Maggie would be different in that regard as she was in so many others.
It wasn’t only concern for Maggie, however, that stopped him. His healing wounds were beginning to seriously object to this strenuous exercise. His shoulder in particular was throbbing from holding up his weight, and he rolled off of Maggie with a groan of regret.
Maggie sighed when he left her. But then Jubal wrapped his strong arms around her and hugged her close to his body, and she smiled and cuddled up next to him. Jubal decided this was an all-right sort of way to end a perfect evening.
He did, however, wake up once during the night. Delighted to find himself entangled with sweet Maggie Bright and since his muscles no longer throbbed from their earlier exercise, he decided it would be worth experimenting with a few kisses. Maggie responded immediately, and they made slow, sleepy, languorous love together. He made absolutely certain his own needs didn’t overpower his goal, which was to take Maggie to deeper depths and higher heights of pleasure than he had the first time.
Maggie cried even harder the second time.
Jubal wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to that reaction to her pleasure at his touch, but he planned to try very, very hard and practice as often as he could in the endeavor.
Chapter Fourteen
Prometheus Mulrooney was livid with rage when he arrived in Santa Fe only to discover that it was no mean trick to get from there to Lincoln County. His heart was set on personally watching Maggie Bright’s farm burn down.
“What do you mean there are no rail tracks to Lincoln?” he screeched at Ferrett, who cowered before him, flinching miserably as each word flayed his tender sensibilities.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Ferrett stuttered. “They haven’t laid any tracks yet, sir. In order to get there, you have to take a ‘jerky’ through Apache Territory.”
“Apaches?”
“Yes, sir.”
“There can’t be a place that uncivilized still left in the United States,” roared Mulrooney, who had lived in New York all his life.
“Well, sir,” stammered Ferrett, “Technically this is a United States Territory, sir. I—I guess different rules apply.”
Mulrooney skewered Ferrett with a malignant scowl and then stood stock still and quivered in impotent fury for a full two minutes. It looked as though he were having a terrible time comprehending the fact that he, Prometheus Mulrooney, a man wealthy beyond measure, could actually be thwarted in his evil scheme by the realities peculiar to New Mexico Territory. By something as trivial as transportation, for heaven’s sake! His face turned a deep purple.
“What’s a ‘jerky’?” he asked at last.
Ferrett, whose eyes had been shut in anticipation of a huge explosion, quaked them open and peeked uncertainly at his employer.
“It’s a mercantile wagon, sir.”
Mulrooney’s frown deepened, but his color lightened. “You can’t possibly expect me to ride two hundred miles on a mercantile wagon, you imbecile.”
“No, sir.”
“Well, then?” roared Mulrooney, setting Ferrett’s knees to trembling furiously.
“Well, sir, Mr. Pelch has looked into the purchase of a wagon for your use, sir. It will be incommodious and uncomfortable, sir, at best, and you’ll need many guards to protect you from the wild Indians that roam the Territ
ory between here and there, sir, but it will be more to your liking, I’m sure, than the ‘jerky.’ I—I don’t know what you prefer to do, sir,” he admitted miserably.
Mulrooney pinned poor Ferrett with a malicious, piggy glare. “Toad,” he spat. Then he sat himself down and proceeded to think.
While Mulrooney thought, Ferrett attempted not to squirm. It was an effort destined for failure, since Ferrett had a naturally squirmy disposition, but he tried very hard to confine himself merely to wringing his hands in anguish.
Finally a satanic smile spread itself slowly over Mulrooney’s face. Ferrett saw that smile and was not comforted.
“Buy the wagons and hire the guards, Ferrett. I’m going to see that harlot’s farm burn. I won’t deny myself that pleasure, even if it means a delay in getting to El Paso.”
“Yes, sir,” whispered Ferrett, relieved that this torture would soon be over and that he’d be allowed to leave his boss’s presence.
“Well?” thundered Mulrooney. “See to it, you blithering fool!”
“Yes, sir.”
Ferrett propelled himself out of Mulrooney’s railway carriage as though he’d been shot. His retreat from his employer’s presence was so precipitate that he crashed flat into Pelch, who had been hovering at the door of the next carriage, waiting to comfort poor Ferrett upon his eventual release from Mulrooney’s custody.
“What did the devil say, Mr. Ferrett?” Pelch asked breathlessly.
“He said to buy the wagon and hire the army, Mr. Pelch. We’re going to Lincoln. He says he’s set his heart on seeing for himself that the poor woman’s home is destroyed.”
Pelch shook his head in dismay. “He’s a devil, Mr. Ferrett,” he said glumly. “He doesn’t have a heart.”
“A scab over his liver is more like,” agreed Ferrett with an unhappy nod.
“Well, I suppose I’d better get on it before he starts to yell again,” Pelch said with a deep sigh of regret.
“I suppose,” muttered Ferrett.
The two men walked slowly through the carriage that was used by them as an office. They made their unhappy way to the front of the train, where they began to debark. Suddenly Ferrett grabbed at Pelch. His skinny fingers trembled as they gripped his friend’s arm.
“Mr. Pelch,” he said in quivering accents.
“Yes Mr. Ferrett?”
“Do you see that little saw?”
Ferrett’s gaze was fastened on a metal saw that hung on the wall of the engineer’s cabin.
“Yes Mr. Ferrett, I do.”
Ferrett’s little eyes were fervent when they sought Pelch’s face.
“Do you recall that our employer enjoys standing outside his carriage on the observation deck?”
“I do, Mr. Ferrett, yes.”
“When the carriage is in motion?”
“I do recall that, Mr. Ferrett.”
“Do you recall that he often leans against the wrought-iron railing as he smokes his foul cigars?”
Pelch didn’t answer Ferrett’s question immediately. His eyes opened wide and he, too, sought the saw on the wall.
“I recall that as well, Mr. Ferrett,” he whispered at last.
“Mr. Mulrooney is a large man, Mr. Pelch.”
“He is indeed, Mr. Ferrett. A very large man.”
“That little rail has to support a good deal of weight when he leans against it, Mr. Pelch.”
“That’s very true, Mr. Ferrett.”
The two men stared at each other for several nerve-wracking seconds.
Ferrett cleared his throat. “Perhaps it would be best to purchase our own saw, Mr. Pelch.”
“I believe that would be a wise precaution, Mr. Ferrett.”
The two men bounced against each other in their hurry to get off the train and into town to find a hardware store.
# # #
When Maggie woke up the next morning, she felt just wonderful. She’d never quite got used to sleeping with Kenny, but she fit exactly into the cradle Jubal’s body made for her, and her head tucked perfectly beneath his chin.
It wasn’t until her eyes fluttered open that she realized that she was in Jubal Green’s arms, and in his bed, and she remembered exactly what her wicked, weak character had led her to do the night before. She nearly groaned in dismay.
That was before she realized how very, very good she felt. Then she sighed with a puzzling mixture of contentment and shame and wished she didn’t have to get up and face the day and the awful embarrassment it would bring.
I just hope embarrassment is all I have to face, she thought with a sigh. Lord, I am a fool.
She didn’t for a second believe that Jubal had anything in mind but a carnal interlude. She couldn’t imagine being loved by more than one good man in a lifetime, and she’d already had Kenny.
They had not closed the door that separated Maggie’s room from Jubal’s, and Maggie knew she’d have to get up and see to Annie soon. Annie wouldn’t wait for her foolish, fallen mama’s heart to quit soaring and come back down to earth.
With a soul-deep sigh, Maggie eased out of Jubal’s arms. She kissed him lightly on his forehead before she reached for her chemise and wrapper.
I love you, Jubal Green, she thought sadly to herself as she gazed down at him. She guessed it was all right to admit it to herself now, after what they’d done the night before, even if the admission did cause her tumbling emotions to jangle even harder.
I loved Kenny, too, she thought. I’m sure I did. Her love for sweet Kenny Bright, though, didn’t hold a candle to the feelings she had for Jubal Green. She felt disloyal and mean all of a sudden.
It was the sensation that he’d lost something precious that made Jubal wake up a few seconds later with a worried clutching in his chest. As soon as he saw the rumpled place beside him and saw that Maggie wasn’t there, he realized what it was that he’d lost. He sat up in groggy haste, his half-awake brain in a panic for fear she’d somehow slipped away from him and wouldn’t ever come back. He couldn’t let that happen. He needed her.
A hearty sigh of relief escaped him when he noticed her merely tiptoeing to the door of her room.
Maggie heard that sigh and glanced back over her shoulder with an embarrassed smile. “I need to check on the baby,” she whispered.
“Bring her in here.” Jubal’s voice was a raspy growl in the morning and Maggie liked it. Still, she was surprised at his words.
“You really want me to?”
“Yeah. Bring her in here.” Jubal figured if she did that, then he could be with Maggie longer.
Maggie smiled brightly at him. “Thank you, Mr. Green.”
“Call me Jubal, Maggie,” he commanded gruffly.
Maggie flushed up immediately. “Thank you, Jubal,” she whispered, and fled into her room.
Annie was just beginning to stir. Maggie picked her up, changed her wet bottom, then carried her, still sleepy, into Jubal’s room. When she laid the baby down beside Jubal, he smiled because he couldn’t help it. Asleep or awake, Annie was a darling little girl.
“Kiss me, Maggie,” he demanded of Annie’s equally darling mama.
So Maggie did. She felt her face turn a fiery red, but she kissed him.
She had intended it to be a discreet peck on the lips, but Jubal would have none of that. Clamping his hand onto the back of her head, he drew her deeper and deeper into the kiss, until Maggie thought for sure she was going to drown.
It was Annie’s sleepy question that finally separated them. “Mama? Dat Juba?”
Maggie flushed and pulled away from her lover. Jubal took a deep breath, peered at the baby, and smiled at her.
“It sure is Jubal, Annie, honey,” he said to the little girl, and added a tickle.
Jubal’s tickle induced a spate of giggles in her baby, and Maggie thought this might just be the happiest morning of her life so far, even if she was abandoned beyond all redemption.
Jubal yawned and stretched. Then he sat up and gave Maggie another quick kiss. �
��Well, I guess we’d better get dressed. We’ll get to my spread this afternoon if we start this morning.”
“I’ll get us ready, then,” Maggie told him upon a sigh.
She didn’t want to leave this hotel now and spoil the perfect communion that seemed to have spread about them like syrup over hot cakes, bathing all three of them in its healing sweetness. She picked up Annie and headed back for the door.
“I’ll come get you for breakfast,” said Jubal, watching with regret as Maggie walked further and further away from him. He knew it was silly, but he didn’t want her out of his sight. “Will a half hour be enough time?”
When Maggie looked back at him over her shoulder, her face was a picture of delighted surprise.
“Oh, my, what a treat,” she breathed. “A half hour will be plenty. Thank you.” Maggie had never eaten breakfast out before. Having breakfast in a restaurant sounded almost more decadently luxurious than eating dinner out did.
At her expression of honest delight, Jubal’s heart went mushy and he felt like a love-struck schoolboy. He still wished she wouldn’t thank him every time he did something he wanted to do for her, but he was beginning to understand. Maggie just truly appreciated things that other people took for granted. He hated it when the door closed behind her.
While Maggie got herself and her daughter ready to face their day, both her heart and her head were in a whirl.
“Annie, your mama might have made a real big mistake last night, but I don’t think I’ll ever regret it, no matter what happens. Jubal Green’s a good man, Annie. And I swear I won’t be a burden to him. I won’t cling and whine and make a fuss. After all, I wanted him just as much as he wanted me.” her face got hot all over again when she admitted that out loud.
Then she thought better of confiding these things to her daughter, even a daughter as young as Annie. “What kind of a mama am I?” she asked aloud, and shook her head in distress at her own weakness.
Annie was busy chewing on her fist and didn’t seem to notice.
They ate breakfast at a different restaurant that morning, and Dan and Four Toes joined them. Annie, who had missed her friend, was ecstatic to see Four Toes again.
One Bright Morning Page 24
