by Radclyffe
The right side of Mae’s face was a massive purple bruise, her eyelid swollen shut. The corner of her mouth was split from what had obviously been a vicious blow. The thought that anyone would lay hands on her made Vance nearly insane. She swept the room as if the perpetrator might still be there and unconsciously slid out her revolver. “Where is he?”
“Gone,” Mae said wearily. It was harder for her to have Vance see her like this, a victim, than to have the entire town look down upon her for being a whore. At least that she could claim to have chosen of her own free will, but to have it be so apparent that she could not protect herself shamed her. She looked away. “Go on home, now, Vance. I’ve had worse, and this will heal.”
“You think I would leave you now?” Her barely restrained wrath made Vance tremble. She jammed the gun back into her holster. “Even if I had no feelings for you, I would want to see to you.”
Mae shuffled slowly to the bed and sat down on the edge. She felt sore all over from the pummeling, and her head throbbed mercilessly. “There’s nothing you can do.”
“Motherless scum,” Vance spat. “I’ll kill him for this.” She locked the door and shrugged out of her coat. Then she picked up the oil lamp and carried it into Mae’s boudoir. She moved slowly, deliberately, tamping down her rage so as not to upset Mae further. She put the lamp on the dresser where the light would allow her to see Mae’s face clearly. “How many times did he hit you?”
“I don’t know. I only remember the first time.” Mae looked down at her hands, which she had folded in her lap. “I didn’t see it coming.”
“What happened?”
“He was waiting when I came back today.”
“Who?” Vance asked, her tone lethally dark.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does.”
Mae looked up. “Don’t you realize that if you went after him, I would be the one to lose? He would kill you, and if he didn’t, someone else would to revenge him.” She caught Vance’s hand and drew it to her uninjured cheek. She closed her eye and took comfort from the heat and strength of Vance’s touch. “That would be worse than anything he’s ever done or could do to me.”
Vance knelt in front of Mae and brought Mae’s hand to her lips. She kissed each finger, then turned her hand over and kissed her palm. “You can’t ask me to stand by when someone does this to you.”
“I do. I do ask it of you.” Mae cupped Vance’s chin and lifted her head until their eyes met. Vance’s were as hard as ebony shards of glass. “Don’t let them really hurt me by hurting you.”
“Oh, God,” Vance groaned, closing her eyes. She’d gone to war believing that her skill and dedication would help right a terrible wrong, only to learn that she could do little more than add torment to agony. Her reward for her sacrifice had been further loss and suffering. A raging fire burned inside her now to answer this injustice with violence. Don’t let them really hurt me by hurting you.
Vance took a shuddering breath and leaned back on her heels. She opened her eyes and smiled faintly. “I want to have a look at you. I’ll not add to your pain, I promise.”
“I don’t fear your touch,” Mae said gently. “But I fear your temper in this, Vance.”
“No, you needn’t. I won’t do anything that would hurt you. You have my word.”
Mae laughed softly. “You’re a smart and clever woman. My head doesn’t hurt so much I’ve forgotten that. Promise me you won’t go after him.”
Vance’s jaw tightened. “And you’re a stubborn woman, Mae.”
“Never denied it.”
“I won’t kill him with my own hands, which is what I want to do.” Vance stood, her expression growing hard. “That’s all I’ll promise for now.”
“I know when I’ll get no more.” Mae smiled as much as she was able. “Thank you.”
“Lie down now and let me look at you.” Vance reached for the covers and pulled them back as Mae slowly slipped beneath them. Once Mae was propped against the pillows, Vance sat carefully on the edge of the bed. “Tell me what happened.”
Mae drew a breath and then, in a quiet, even tone, related the incident. As she spoke, Vance studied her face, keeping her own expression carefully blank. Mae had been hit hard enough to leave the imprint of knuckles on her cheekbone. Carefully, Vance palpated the thin rim of bone beneath the discolored and swollen eyelid, some of her tension easing when she felt no telltale grating that would have suggested fractures. She ran her fingers along the edge of Mae’s jaw, searching for irregularities, and again, found none. With her thumb and index finger she delicately teased apart the eyelids that Mae could not open on her own. Blood streaked the white sclera, but the pupil was round and the cornea clear.
“Can you see me?” Vance asked tenderly.
“Yes, and you look mighty serious.”
“I am.” Vance leaned forward and kissed Mae’s forehead. “How long were you unconscious?”
“I don’t know for sure. Not long,” Mae added hastily when she saw the muscles in Vance’s jaw bunch. “It was still afternoon, so I don’t think more than an hour.”
“Any dizziness, ringing in your ears, weakness in your arms or legs?” Just asking the question was so painful it took Vance’s breath away. When Mae answered in the negative, she was almost afraid to believe it. “You’re sure?”
Mae stroked Vance’s thigh. “Yes. I would tell you.”
Vance lifted the tie on Mae’s robe. “I need to examine the rest of you.”
“He didn’t get at the rest of me,” Mae said tightly.
“How do you know what he did when you were unconscious?”
“I’d know.”
“If you’re uncomfortable with me seeing you, I can put up a screen so that you won’t—”
“Lord, Vance,” Mae said with a sigh. “It’s not the way I want you to be looking at me, but I’m not delicate about it. I just don’t want you to waste your ti—”
“I’ve got all night, and there’s nothing I’d rather be doing than seeing to you.”
“And you call me stubborn,” Mae murmured, touched nevertheless. She helped Vance open her robe. “He handled me a bit rough, but that’s the worst of it. If I hadn’t bit him, he most likely wouldn’t have hit me.”
“You should’ve shot the son of a bitch’s balls off,” Vance seethed. “He left his goddamn fingerprints on your arms.”
“If I could have and not brought more trouble down on me and the girls, I would have,” Mae said forcefully.
“Who is this man?”
“I told you I wasn’t going to give you his name, because some night when you’ve had an extra shot or two, you’re likely to go after him.”
“I promised you I wouldn’t.” Vance gently pressed Mae’s abdomen. “Does this hurt?”
“No. And I believe you. That you mean it, at least.” Mae covered Vance’s hand. “But sometimes we don’t keep our promises because of well-meant intentions.”
“Does he own the Golden Nugget?”
Mae sighed again. “Lord, you won’t give up. I’m sure he doesn’t.” She pressed her fingers to Vance’s mouth. “And before you ask, I don’t know who does.”
“You must have some idea.”
“I don’t think there’s but three or four people in this town with enough money or brains to back this kind of operation, but whoever it is is very careful to keep it a secret.”
Vance nodded thoughtfully as she closed Mae’s robe. Gently, she met Mae’s eyes. “You’re sure he didn’t violate you.”
“Yes,” Mae replied, her voice suddenly thick with tears. She hadn’t expected so much tenderness. Even as a child, when she had led a life that many would have found enviable, especially for the child of a servant, she had not known such care. “The way you treat me makes me feel…special.”
“You are.” Vance stood, released the leather tie that tethered her holster to her thigh, and unbuckled the belt. She set her holster on the bedstead and unbuttoned her trousers. The
n she kicked off her boots and stepped out of her pants. She was aware of Mae watching her as she draped them over a chair. She kept her shirt and drawers on and walked to the side of the bed. “I’d like to stay the night.”
“I…why?”
When Mae did not protest, Vance lifted the covers and settled beside her. She eased her right arm over Mae’s shoulder, carefully settling Mae against her side. “Because I feel good when I hold you.”
Mae wrapped her arm around Vance’s waist and rested her uninjured cheek against Vance’s chest. “I told Frank to tell you not to come up.”
“He did.”
“I’m glad you didn’t listen.”
Vance kissed Mae’s forehead, then the corner of her mouth. She kissed her gently, taking care not to brush the tender areas as she skimmed her lips over Mae’s. She stroked her throat with her fingertips, then dipped beneath her robe to caress her breasts lightly. When she heard Mae’s breath hitch and felt her tremble she stopped. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“You have the most wonderful touch.” Mae held Vance’s hand to her breast. “I love your hand there.”
“Close your eyes,” Vance whispered, softly caressing her again. She rested her cheek against Mae’s hair and breathed in her scent. She continued to hold her, stroking her shoulders, her arms, her breasts, until she was asleep. She lay awake listening to Mae’s quiet breathing, absorbing the soothing rhythm of her heartbeat into her own chest. The rage was too potent to let her sleep, but the love would let her rest.
Chapter Twenty-Two
When Mae awakened to the sensation of Vance beside her in bed, she stayed perfectly still so as not to disturb the wonder of the moment. Vance’s body was hot and firm, and her fingers glided slowly up and down Mae’s arm in a steady, mesmerizing rhythm. Mae could tell she was awake from the quiet tension that suffused her body. Ordinarily, what Mae wanted more than anything else was for the person in her bed to leave her in peace. Now, she discovered that the presence of this particular woman delivered it to her.
“Did you sleep at all last night?” Mae murmured as she fit her body more tightly to Vance’s.
“Some,” Vance lied. She’d taken far too much pleasure in gently caressing Mae as she’d slept to want to sleep herself. While the human body had always fascinated her in its miraculous construction and ingenious workings, she’d never before felt the kind of excitement that lying next to Mae had stirred in her. Mae’s skin was so soft, the curve of her hips and breasts so graceful, the heat of her flesh so enticing that Vance had to struggle not to wake her with the urgency of her response. She wanted more. She wanted to never stop touching her.
“You deliver some kind of personal service,” Mae joked lightly, stretching to carefully kiss the corner of Vance’s mouth.
“Only to you.” Vance turned on her side and studied Mae’s face in the early morning light. The unblemished portions of her face were beautiful. Pale, delicate skin over fine bones. Her bruises were even uglier in daylight, however, and fury tangled with tenderness. Vance shivered and lightly skimmed her fingertips over Mae’s jaw. “How do you feel?”
“If I don’t count the aches and pains, I’ve never felt better in my life.”
Vance laughed. “I think my question has to do with those aches and pains.”
Mae stroked the hair from Vance’s forehead and kissed her softly. “I’ve never opened my eyes next to anyone I’ve loved before. That’s all I can feel right now.”
Vance jerked and drew a swift breath. “Mae.”
“Oh, I know women like me aren’t supposed to have feelings like tha—”
“Don’t, now.” Vance stopped Mae’s words with a kiss, mindful of her injuries even as she slicked her tongue hungrily inside the moist recesses of Mae’s mouth. The dam she had not known she had erected to hold back her wants and needs was crumbling, and she was helpless to stem the rush of desire. She yanked her mouth away from Mae’s, panting. “I’m aching for you.” Shuddering, she closed her eyes. “So much.”
“No need to stop,” Mae whispered. She found Vance’s hand and drew it inside her robe to her breast. When warm, strong fingers closed over her nipple, she whimpered.
“I’ll hurt you,” Vance groaned. “You don’t know what I’m feeling.” She rested her forehead against Mae’s, her eyes tightly closed. “I never thought to want anything, anyone, the way I want you. Even if you weren’t injured, I’d be afraid.”
Mae laughed quietly even as her body quickened. “Oh, sweetheart. You think your touching me with caring will hurt me, ever?”
“I think if I do what I’m wanting to do right now, it might.”
“Well then, why don’t you do what I want you to do?”
Vance opened her eyes, her head thick with arousal. Mae’s breast lay heavy in her hand and her green eyes shimmered, inviting her to touch, to take. Still, she had enough reason left to know she couldn’t. Not when the price of her pleasure would be Mae’s pain. “I want to. I don’t know how good I’ll be at it, but I’ll do my best. But not until you’re well.”
“Oh, I think you’ll do just fine,” Mae said. The slow play of Vance’s fingers over her breasts was nearly enough to carry her over, but she resisted the heavy swirl of passion between her thighs because there was something else she wanted more. “But just this minute it isn’t you touching me I want.”
Vance tensed. “I…I’ve never. With anyone.”
“Mmm. I remember.” Mae opened the top button on Vance’s shirt. Then she started on the second. “I’ve been thinking about that. How much I like being the first to touch you.”
“I’m not…I wish…” Vance stilled Mae’s hand. “I wish I were as beautiful as you. That I could be as pleasing to you as you are—”
“For a woman so smart,” Mae said, tears brimming on her lashes, “you’re just plain stupid about some things.”
Vance grinned. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”
Mae parted Vance’s shirt, exposing her small, perfectly formed breasts. “I can’t but think of you and my knees go weak.” She smoothed her hand across Vance’s chest, tracing breast and nipple and scar tissue as if all were priceless gems. “I see that handsome face of yours and I get tight inside, needing you to touch me, wanting you to take me places no one else ever has.” She looked into Vance’s eyes, circling one red fingernail around Vance’s nipple, then squeezing until Vance arched and groaned. “You’re just exactly the kind of woman who pleases me.”
“I can’t think what with wanting you to keep touching me.” Vance’s voice was tight, strained, nearly as tense as her body, which trembled with barely contained excitement. “I have this terrible need for you somewhere inside me.”
Mae moaned softly. “Oh, I know. I know because I feel it, too.” She rested her cheek between Vance’s breasts. “Hold me.”
Vance circled Mae’s shoulders and pulled her near, telling herself that this would be enough for now. Desperately hoping that her body would not betray her. She feared that Mae’s embrace alone would be enough to ignite the powder keg of arousal that simmered so near to brimming over. She felt so close to slipping over the edge that the slightest brush of Mae’s fingertips caused dangerous ripples of pleasure to dance along her thighs. She groaned and clenched her jaws tightly. Urgently, she whispered, “Stop touching me now. Just let me get my senses back.”
“Oh no. I plan to touch you senseless.” Mae slid her hand beneath the waistband of Vance’s drawers. “I want you to be still and let me.”
Had she her other arm, Vance would have pulled Mae’s hand from between her thighs where it had come to rest. As it was, one armed, she was too slow, and before she could protest, exquisite pleasure burst beneath Mae’s ceaselessly caressing fingers. Had she been able to think enough to consider stopping, she couldn’t have. Her body claimed its reward even as Mae claimed her heart. Her release started as a sweet fist in the pit of her stomach, then raged along her spine and down her legs, and
finally exploded, burning all thought from her mind. She cried out, and then cried, her face buried in Mae’s hair.
“Here now. Your heart’s hammering like to burst,” Mae marveled, her face still cradled against Vance’s chest.
“It’s about to break,” Vance said unevenly, “from holding so much happiness.”
“You don’t have to hold it, sweetheart. There’s lots more coming.” Mae was satisfied in a way she had never imagined. She had given true pleasure from the heart, two things she had never experienced before. She felt full, sated, as if Vance’s release had been her own. She wanted Vance’s touch as much as ever, but for the moment, she was content. “I just couldn’t wait any longer for you.”
“I think it unfair,” Vance said, her voice rusty from holding back the well of emotion that threatened to undo her, “that you have me at such a disadvantage.” She tangled her fingers in Mae’s hair and tilted her head back before gently kissing her eyelids, her bruised cheek, her mouth. “In that circumstances prevent me from taking my pleasure in you or returning what you have bestowed upon me.”
“I consider it downright clever,” Mae teased. “I’m hoping it will be enough to get you back again.”
Suddenly serious, Vance said, “You can’t think that a few moments of pleasure are all I seek?”
Mae grew still. “I don’t like to think too much beyond the moment. I’ve learned that hoping for something often leads to disappointment.”
“And what is it that you hope for?” Vance stroked down the center of Mae’s back to her hip, then over the curve of her body to her stomach. She opened her fingers as if to encompass all of her in the palm of her hand. “Beyond today?”
Silently, Mae shook her head, fearing that putting words to her dreams would cause them to shatter.
