Gambling on the Outlaw

by Margaret Madigan

  “Your life is valuable to me, if for no other reason than I want you for myself.”

  His brows went up, but before he could voice his opinion about my possessiveness, or anything else, I fisted the lapels of his shirt and pulled his lips down to mine.

  He was startled at first, not expecting what I’d done, but it only took him a moment to catch up. When he did, his arms went around me and pulled me close, kissing me back. And, oh my, was it a kiss.

  It started soft and slow, testing my lips with his, but then he slid his hand down to the curve at my low back, and pressed me closer to him, which was really where I wanted to be. His lips tasted as good as I remembered, like a man with honor and passion.

  Back at my place, his kisses had been gentle, and he’d even seemed amused with himself that he’d surprised me, lured me into kissing him when I hadn’t planned on it, but I was tired of sweet and gentle and kind. I was tired of behaving myself and being a good girl and living up to expectations. I wanted to let go and feel something real with a man who wasn’t trying to manipulate me or control me or add me to his list of property.

  So I wrapped one arm around his neck, and stood on my toes, straining to better reach him. When I slid my tongue along the seam of his lips, a growl rumbled deep in his throat, and his mouth opened right up for me. Our tongues tangled, vying for position, tasting, exploring, battling. An energy I’d worked hard to suppress since I’d left the gambling circuit hummed inside me, threatening to burst, and it took all my restraint not to climb the man like a tree. I didn’t want him to think me a common whore, but my mind was so clouded with need that I was nearly beyond caring.

  His hand moved down and cupped my bottom, making me groan and lean into him. Then he slid his hand down to my thigh and lifted my leg, hitching it at his hip. He hauled me up so that I balanced on just the toes of one foot, and I felt the hard evidence of his arousal low on my abdomen. But I wanted it lower, pressed to the part of me that throbbed to have him inside me.

  I moved my lips on his, kissing him harder, exploring his mouth with my tongue, hungry to taste him more, and when that wasn’t enough, my fingers went to his shirt, tripping over themselves in an effort to get it open, to get it off.

  I grunted in frustration when the buttons wouldn’t work, and I separated my lips from his so I could see what I was doing and get the job done.

  He released my leg, and took my hands in his.

  “Slow down, darlin’. It’s not a race.”

  He rested his forehead on mine and I looked up into his eyes. They were beautiful, mysterious, deep, and filled with wonder when he looked at me. So different from the last man I’d done this with. Sex with Frank had always been a frenzy of need. Always a frantic, wild, voracious race to the end. It was about getting what we each needed, and Frank’s eyes—the color of storm clouds on the prairie—had never looked at me with wonder. Hunger, lust, greed, yes, but never wonder. To Frank, everything—even sex—was a game to be won.

  Isaac unbuttoned his own shirt, one button at a time, while I waited, and watched. It was torture. With every button he revealed a little more of himself and I swallowed down a whimper of impatience. I remembered his chest from when he was in my bed, and I licked my lips in anticipation.

  He chuckled as he shrugged out of his shirt, revealing the expanse of his chest to my view. He’d removed the bandages and his injury was still an angry red mark on an otherwise hard plane of muscle, interrupted by a handful of other scars, and by the line of dark hair that ran from midchest down to disappear into his pants.

  I reached a finger to trace that line, warm and rough, all the way down to his belt buckle, which I started to undo. He grabbed my hand before I could.

  “Not so fast,” he said. “Your turn, first.”

  He jerked his chin to indicate my shirt, then stepped back to watch, a slow, predatory grin spreading his lips.

  “Fine,” I said, my fingers trembling as I hurried to work the buttons on my shirt.

  “Beth,” he reminded me. “Slower.”

  He’d be the death of me with his insistence on patience, but I tried to comply. Looking down at the buttons as I undid them, one at a time, I willed my fingers to take their time as heat pooled in my belly. I thought of what it would feel like to lay down on the bed behind me and take Isaac’s weight on top of me.

  As each button opened, the shirt fell away, and I let it slide down my arms to the floor. I looked at him from under lowered lashes, and there was that wonder again, as if he couldn’t believe how lucky he was. I imagined I wasn’t much of a sight in Frank’s oversize pants, so I hurried to undo the belt before Isaac made me slow down again, and they fluttered to the floor in a pile, leaving me in a lacy chemise just long enough to hide my naked behind.

  His gaze did a slow perusal of me from head to toe, and I felt the heat of his attention on every inch of my skin.

  There was far too much space between us. I wanted to feel his warm skin against mine more than anything, so I stepped up and touched him again, smoothing my hands over his chest, careful to brush my thumbs over his nipples as I did. His eyes closed and he moaned, but when I leaned in and flicked my tongue over one of them, his breath hissed between clenched teeth.

  I took that as approval and quickly dispensed with his belt and let his pants fall. He chuckled and kicked them away. He wore no undergarments, which pleased me more than I could say.

  I reached down between us and grasped the hard length of him in my hand, sliding my fingers down the firm, silky shaft. A hum of satisfaction rumbled in his chest, and his cock twitched as I stroked it.

  “You’re going to be the death of me, woman,” he said, bucking his hips.

  “What happened to ‘slow down’?” I teased.

  “You’re right,” he said, removing my hand from him, and placing it on his chest.

  I frowned in frustration until his fingers caressed the curve of my shoulder, raising delicious shivery pebbles on my skin. When he kissed my temple, then traced the curve of my ear with his tongue, all those shiver pebbles melted with the heat that swelled inside.

  “So beautiful,” he whispered as his lips trailed down my neck to my shoulder. I focused on the fluttery feeling of them leaving damp kisses in their wake, losing myself in the sensation, but when his hands slid down to cup my bare bottom, I gasped in surprise. I felt his smile on my shoulder, then his teeth as he nipped the flesh there. I was painfully aware of our mutual nudity, and the space between my legs grew wet with anticipation.

  “Isaac,” I said, pressing myself closer, urging him. “Faster.”

  He slipped his hand between us and his fingers found the folds of my womanhood, and slipped inside.

  “Is this what you want?” he asked, stroking the opening to my core, then seeking the tender nub nearby and caressing it until my knees turned liquid and my forehead fell forward to rest on his chest.

  “Yes,” I said. “Oh, yes.”

  I wanted him on me and in me. I wanted to move together and sweat together and come together, but he didn’t seem to be in any hurry. I tried to pull him backward toward the bed, but he didn’t budge, just continued to drive me mad with his fingers, toying with me and slowly pushing me to the edge. When my hips started a rhythmic rocking, he plunged a finger inside me and I had to hold on to him for dear life. But just as all the heat began to gather, he withdrew his finger, and left me empty and frustrated.

  When I raised my head from his chest, he wore a wicked grin, as if he’d just won something.

  “You’re overdressed, dear.”

  I’d been so lost in the sensations his fingers produced that I’d forgotten I still wore my chemise. I reached for the hem, but he beat me to it. He followed the curves of my hips and waist, gathering my chemise all the way up past my ribs until I raised my arms and he slipped it off over my head, tossing it behind him.

  His body was gloriously sinful—all firmness, and angles, rough and hard, and so tempting I couldn’t resist it.
I needed to feel him pressed to the softness of my body, but before I could wrap myself around him, he brought his hand up and lifted one of my breasts into his palm, stroking the nipple, driving a gasp from my lips.

  “I’ve wanted to do this since that night in your room,” he said, his voice a husky murmur.

  I’d almost formulated a response, but then he leaned in and put his mouth on my nipple, and I lost the capacity for intelligent thought. His warm, wet tongue circled and swirled, and his teeth nipped, and then he suckled and heat shot straight to my core.

  “Isaac,” I said, his name a plea on my lips. “Please…”

  I pulled him to the bed, and this time he followed, climbing on top of me when I lay down.

  “Better?” he asked, leaning on his elbows over me.

  I tucked a lock of hair behind his ear, and brushed the stubble of his cheek. He leaned into my hand, then kissed my wrist, and the tenderness took my breath away. I couldn’t believe after so long, I’d found a man who stirred these kinds of feelings in me again, and not just the physical feelings. Those, I could deal with, happily in fact.

  Instead, it had turned into more than an innocent flirtation because my heart had a mind of its own, deciding then and there that it wanted Isaac for its own. It was a foolish wish, but one I had no control over. One glance into Isaac’s eyes, though, and it was my turn to be in wonder of him. I knew well enough what a challenge I could be, not being the typical meek, compliant woman, and yet he still wanted me.

  “Much better,” I said, smiling, and hooked a leg over his hip so his body settled nicely between my legs, nestling his cock into the warm, wet center of me. “I think you have some unfinished business?”

  A wolfish grin spread his lips. “Indeed,” he said, returning his attention to my breasts.

  He paid them plenty of lavish attention, licking and pinching and biting, until I panted like a horse well run, my hips bucked and strained, and heat coiled inside me insatiably. Still he kept on undaunted, determined to drive me to the edge.

  “Isaac…I need…please…”

  When I finally begged without a whit of shame, he lifted his attention from my well-worshipped breasts and smiled. As my heart beat the inside of my rib cage, he lifted his hips and slid himself deep inside me, a contented groan escaping his lips.

  My back arched and I clung to him as I marveled at the size of him, and how he filled me. Then he began a slow stroking rhythm, as if he had all the time in the world. But I’d had enough of his unhurried pace. I clenched my muscles around him and met him stroke for stroke, increasing the pace, digging nails into his shoulders and pressing our bodies together, until his rhythm changed, becoming harder and more insistent.

  Ripples of pleasure built and gathered, and my legs trembled as I strained to meet the coming climax. Just as the waves of pleasure crested, his hand found its way between us and his fingers played delicious games between my legs until I writhed underneath him, gasping for breath. Finally he drove harder, burying himself deeper into me, and I arched to meet him, wishing there was some way we could be even closer.

  He plunged into me and I was as driven as he was to possess, to meet, to crash into that burst of sensation—and then it hit me, shattering in sparks and exquisite feeling. My name drew from him in a growl as he shuddered with one final thrust on his own climax.

  Chapter Eleven

  ~Isaac~

  Beth snuggled next to me and slept like a baby the rest of the night, but sleep eluded me. I don’t know how last night got away from me. When I saw her standing in front of the cabin all I wanted to do was wring her stubborn neck and send her back home. But damn the woman, she worked her way under my skin and before I knew it my lips were all over her and the only thing I could think about was tasting her and getting inside of her.

  In the hours before dawn doubt swam around in my head. She fit perfectly against me, her soft curves warm and pliant. With my arm wrapped around her, I pulled her into me so her head rested on my shoulder. The even rhythm of her breath heated a spot on my chest just above my heart. God, I’d be the luckiest man alive to call her mine.

  But by the time the first rays of morning sun slanted through the window and lit Beth’s hair to a golden fire, I knew it was a foolish dream. I’d made a mistake letting her get so close to me. I leaned in to smell her hair, sweet like mountain air and the remnants of our desire. She was perilously close to my heart, which was a place I couldn’t afford to let anyone be, least of all a good woman like Beth. It only meant pain for both of us.

  She stirred, murmuring and stretching like a satisfied cat. She wrapped an arm and a leg around me and my cock jumped to life. I felt her smile against my chest.

  “Ready for another round?”

  Her voice was sleepy and seductive and I wanted her as much or more than I had the night before. I needed distance between us.

  “Yes, I certainly am,” I said, honesty sneaking out of my mouth before I could stop it. Her hand slid down, caressing each of my ribs as it made its way to the parts of me betraying my belated attempts to undo what we’d done. I caught her arm before she took my cock, and what little willpower I had left, in her hand and I forgot what it was I wanted to say.

  She looked up at me, confusion all over her pretty face.

  “Sorry, darlin’,” I said. “We need to make plans before your bounty hunter catches up with us. We don’t have time to set up housekeeping and spend all day in bed.”

  She rolled on top of me and I groaned. She had to be the most stubborn woman I’d ever met. “I’m not talking about all day.”

  Closing my hands around her waist, I lifted her back onto the bed, then swung my feet to the floor.

  “Last night was a mistake. I shouldn’t have let it happen.”

  I searched the floor for my pants and found them under hers.

  “You’re back to turning me away?”

  I spun to face her as I buttoned my pants, which was a big mistake because she sat naked on the bed without a hint of bashfulness. Her smooth, creamy skin reminded me of the honey sweetness of it, inviting my tongue to explore it again.

  “I don’t want to, Beth, but I’m not the man for you. We’ve got no future.”

  Her lips thinned to a firm line, and her brows knit together in a frown I’d do just about anything to spend the rest of my life eliminating, but when she crossed her arms under her breasts I went searching for a shirt to cover her before I lost this argument all over again.

  “You best let me decide for myself who’s the man for me, Isaac Collins. We’ve got as much future as any other couple if you’d just look at it from more than one direction.”

  I grabbed a shirt from the floor and threw it at her.

  “Put some clothes on. I can’t have a decent conversation with a naked woman.”

  She smiled as if storing that bit of information for future use, then slipped the shirt on and buttoned it.

  “Better?”

  “It will be when you put these on, too.”

  I tossed pants at her and she laughed at me, a sweet, sultry sound. I shrugged into my own shirt, then went to the stove to stoke the fire and start some coffee.

  I heard the bed creak as she stood, and then she wrapped her arms around me from behind and rested her head on my back.

  “Let’s go north. Or east. Or west. We can go anywhere, really. Find a place to homestead.” She let go and circled to face me. “We could make a life together.”

  I let myself consider it, for just a moment. A life with Beth would be pure bliss. A home, a wife, maybe children. Something that was all mine. I wanted it so bad it hurt. But I couldn’t think of any way to make it happen.

  “Is that really what you want?”

  “It is.”

  “We hardly know each other. Why me?”

  She looked away and took her time answering. I wondered if it took so long to answer because she had no good reasons. “I can’t tell you for certain. There’s something between us I�
�m not ready to give up. I can be myself with you.” She shrugged. “That’s important to me.”

  I’d agree the sparks between us were undeniable, and beyond that I sensed more, too. But I couldn’t stay, and wouldn’t allow her to walk away from all the important things in her life just for me.

  “What about your friends?” I asked. “Don’t they need you?”

  “I’ll send them a letter, let them know we’re safe, then send for them once we’re settled.”

  “What about your patients?”

  “Doc Brown can handle them, and maybe another midwife will come to town. I’m not the only one around, and there are plenty of folks in town who’d be happy to see the back of the uppity woman who thought she was good enough to be a doctor.”

  “What about your land? Are you just going to hand it over to Dearborn?”

  She paused and pinned me with a glare.

  “If you don’t want me, just say so. Though after last night I’m not likely to believe you.”

  “Wanting has nothing to do with it. I’ve got plenty of want. I just want to know why you’re so eager to throw away your whole life just to be with me.”

  She planted her fists on her hips. “You don’t think you’re worth it?”

  “Not particularly. Not deserving of it, either.”

  “What, then? We’ll just go back to our lives and pretend not to have any feelings for each other?”

  “I don’t have any life to go back to, thanks to Dearborn.”

  “So we’re back to you going after Dearborn, is that it? You’re determined to get yourself killed?”

  “Not determined, but whether I kill Dearborn or not, there’s plenty of people determined to see me dead. I figure I may as well have the pleasure of killing him before the rest of them catch up to me.”

  She tilted her head to the side, and I could almost see the thoughts forming in her head before her eyes lit with an idea.

  “Then I’ll help you. Clay won’t see that coming. We go back together, get the job done, and then move on with our lives.”