Promises Decide

by Sarah McCarty

  “Tough.”

  “He’s an evil man. He has connections everywhere.”

  “Everywhere is a big place.”

  Her hands curled into fists against his neck. “I mean it. Governors, senators, policemen—he has a hold over all of them. It’s all in the book. I think.” She shook her head. “He was always consulting it. The names are encoded but not the deeds. Or the payments.”

  “You took it for leverage.”

  She shook her head. “I took the necklace to fund our escape. I didn’t know the book was in there.”

  That must have been a shock. “Why didn’t you throw it away?”

  She shuddered. “Mac wouldn’t be satisfied with that.”

  No, he wouldn’t. “You could mail it back to him.”

  “He wouldn’t trust that I didn’t make a copy.”

  “Probably not.”

  Jackson was getting a pretty good image of Mac. And he had to agree with Mimi’s assessment. Rich and powerful men who clawed their way to status over the bodies of their competitors tended to be ruthless in keeping those skeletons buried. Mac would have to be dealt with.

  “So you’ve just been running?”

  Her concession was a very heavy sigh. “Forever, it seems.”

  “It’d be easier without the children.”

  “I know.”

  But it’d never occurred to her to leave them behind, he knew. “Didn’t their mothers complain?”

  She shook her head. A blush stained her cheeks. “They were . . .” She waved her hand. “The children were discards. Kept around until the time they became useful. I was lonely when I got there. Bored. They were lonely, too. I started teaching the boys to read.” She shrugged. “Things built from there. But the more I understood how things worked in that place, the more I realized the fate Melinda Sue had waiting for her. Already men were looking at her . . .” She shuddered again. The eyes she turned to his were filled with horror. “She’s just a baby.”

  “Yes.” A beautiful baby whose innocence could be sold for a hefty profit. He tipped her chin up again. “You’re right. Mac is a bastard.”

  “I don’t know what he planned for the boys, but I couldn’t leave them.”

  “You did the right thing, and, Mimi?”

  “What?”

  “You won’t be running anymore.”

  The comment was supposed to make her feel safe. He sighed when she hid her face in his neck. Her ensuing grunt could have meant anything. He doubted it was agreement. She was too scared to see things any other way. Resting his chin on the top of her head, he admitted, “You’re not the only one who’s been running.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You didn’t notice I’ve been running around with my head up my ass the last couple days?”

  “No.”

  “Liar.”

  She shrugged.

  “I was trying to figure out how I was going to live with myself for taking another man’s wife.”

  “I don’t understand how you knew.” Leaning back, she studied his expression with narrowed eyes. “Who told you . . . ?”

  There was no shielding her from the truth. “There’s a wanted poster out for you. Not the best picture but it’s you.”

  The color drained from her face in a slow seep, ending in a hard swallow. “Mac?”

  He nodded. “That’d be my guess.”

  “No wonder you’ve been acting so oddly. You were trying to figure out a way to get out of your promise.”

  “The hell I was.” He shook his head at her blink, and lowering his voice, he elaborated. This needed to be clear between them. “What’s mine stays mine.” Another blink. “It was never a question of letting you go. I just had to learn to live with my conscience, seeing as you were another man’s wife.”

  “I may be.”

  He tried to imagine her at fourteen. It was entirely too easy. As easy as it was to imagine Mac taking advantage of her. He’d met a lot of Macs over his career. “You’re not.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because men like your ‘husband’ don’t make that kind of commitment when a lie will do.”

  “You don’t—”

  It was his turn to put his hand over her mouth. She blinked. Her lips moved against his palm in a soft tickle. He shook his head, cutting off her protest. Removing his hand he continued. “Think about it. If he had married you, when you got too old, the only way to remarry would be to divorce you or kill you. Divorce costs money. Time. Scandal. It’d be much easier to kill you.”

  “But he said he was sending me away.”

  “That was likely a ruse. I’m thinking if you hadn’t run, the only place you would have found yourself going would have been to an early grave.”

  She went as still as a rabbit caught in the open as the knowledge sank in. Against his neck, her lashes fluttered. Her whisper was just as shaky. “He was going to kill me.”

  “Yes.” Of that he had no doubt.

  She took a slow breath. “I never thought about that.”

  He had. Ever since he’d seen that wanted poster, he hadn’t thought of much else. It was why he’d had to prepare and then get her out of town. With a bounty that high and so seemingly easy a target, every bounty hunter in the West would be hunting her. Some experienced. Some not. It was the inexperienced ones that made him sweat. Pair excitable men with loaded guns, and accidents often happened. He’d talked to Cougar about his concerns, and he and the others had agreed. Right now, the best thing to do was to ensconce Mimi and the kids in Bentley’s cabin and pray the sky stayed dry.

  “You really weren’t going to give me up?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “Because what’s mine stays mine.”

  She went still in his arms. Not stiff like before, but still, like a rabbit facing down a wolf. Against his arm her ribs expanded and contracted with a short breath, and he knew if the moon were brighter, and life kinder, he’d be able to see that slight flush along her cheekbones and that betraying hunger in her eyes. But life wasn’t kind, and he couldn’t see, but he could feel, and she was wound tighter than a Sunday clock. “Just relax.”

  “Why?”

  “So that I can take advantage of you while you’re unsuspecting and vulnerable, of course.”

  Her chuckle was weak but there.

  “Do that again.”

  “What?”

  “Laugh.”

  “I can’t do it on command.”

  “That’s a shame. You have a very pretty laugh.”

  And very pretty eyes and breasts and hips. But more attractive than all of that was her mind.

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For making me feel special.”

  “You are.”

  She turned in his lap. She had to feel his cock hard against her thigh. She didn’t balk and he didn’t push. He just waited. He didn’t have to wait long. After a soft expulsion of breath, her head tipped back and her gaze met his. Shadowed with mystery and redolent with an undefined emotion, her eyes held him enthralled even as her hands slid slowly up his chest and over his shoulders. So slowly that he held his breath, anticipation embracing his desire as delicately as her arms embraced his neck. She was something, his Mimi. Sweet. Intelligent. Passionate. Her tongue slid over her lips, leaving them glistening in pink temptation. Damn, he wanted to taste her. This time when her nails sank into his skin, they sent little bites of fire nipping down his spine.

  “Make me feel special tonight, Jackson,” she whispered. “Please.”

  Those hot bites settled into glowing embers of heat. “Why?”

  She blinked. “Because I can’t be a fool again. I have to know if this is real.”

  “You’re no fool.”

  He
r eyes, those beautiful eyes, narrowed. “You don’t know how I feel.”

  But he would. Brushing the hair off her face, it was his turn to whisper. “Show me.”

  Her torso moved against his in a slow, intimate caress. Her breasts, soft and full beneath her clothes, dragged erotically against his chest. He could feel her nipples beneath her blouse. He wanted to rip her blouse open, lower her camisole, cover them with his mouth. Show her how she made him burn. Make her burn in return.

  “I feel wild,” she groaned.

  So did he. “Good.”

  That got him a frown. “I don’t like it.”

  She would. He’d make sure she would, because there was nothing more important than this bond between them. This wildness. Placing his hands on her hips, he angled her closer. “Then I’ll like it enough for the both of us and wait for you to catch up.”

  His reward was a burst of laughter. With a flick she knocked his hat off. Combing her fingers through his hair, she found the leather tie. With three tugs, she had it free. “Why do you tie it back?”

  “For the same reason you do.”

  Her smile bussed his throat as she sprinkled tiny kisses up to his jaw. “Somehow, I don’t think you’re worried about being tarred a loose woman.”

  It was his turn to laugh. “No. I’m just too lazy to comb out the knots.”

  “That I believe.”

  “Come here and stop teasing me, woman.”

  “You mean like this?” More of those butterfly kisses dusted his jawline.

  “Exactly like that.” Grabbing her hips he lifted her up and turned her so she straddled him. His cock notched against her pussy. Her satisfaction was expressed in the moan that whispered over his cheek. Wrapping his fingers in her hair, he tipped her head back. “Now kiss me like you missed me.”

  That was the easiest order Mimi had ever followed. Mac hadn’t liked kissing. Or caressing. He hadn’t liked anything soft. She hadn’t ever missed Mac, but Jackson was different. She ached for him.

  Like this, they were almost of a height, and it was easy to tilt her head just enough, to part her lips just enough, to lean forward just enough. To tease. To tempt. Not just him, but herself. She’d waited so long for this. It almost felt too good to be true.

  “Do it.”

  The order whispered into her mouth, mingling with her desire, pushing it higher, drawing her in, forcing the connection. Completing the union. Completing them.

  Her moan echoed his. She turned her head, or maybe he turned it for her. She wasn’t sure. Didn’t care. All that mattered was this kiss. This man. Fire arced from him to her and then back again. Lightning danced over her skin, burning her from the outside in, all that intensity focusing on the points of their connection. Her lips, her breasts, her pussy. “I want you.”

  The words were dragged from her heart, breathed into his mouth. Felt in her soul. His answer was a growl. Or maybe it was a yes. She took it as a yes, plucking at the buttons on his shirt, whimpering in frustration when they wouldn’t give, moaning in satisfaction when her fingers found warm skin.

  “Yes. Just like that. Sing for me.”

  When his big hand cupped her breast, she forgot to breathe. When his thumb brushed over the sensitive tip, she found it again, high and sweet.

  With a growl he dragged her hard over his cock, rocking her pussy against his length so hard it almost hurt. She tried to pull back. He wouldn’t let her. “Don’t fight it. Feel me. How hard I am for you.”

  “I can’t—”

  Before she could finish the thought, discomfort became pleasure. Fire. Oh, my God, he was fire.

  “I’ve never felt like this before.”

  His growled “Good” blended with the passion.

  She rocked harder. So did he. It wasn’t fast enough. Hard enough. She needed to feel him. Just him. Male to female. Skin to skin. She stopped tugging at the buttons and started ripping them instead. His hands caught hers. “Slow down.”

  “I want you.”

  “And you’ll have me. Just wait.”

  His hands were between them, tugging. She didn’t want to wait. She bit his shoulder out of sheer frustration.

  He laughed. And even that was good. Suddenly his hands were between her thighs, brushing and tugging.

  “Hurry.”

  “Lift up.”

  She did, and then she had her wish. Skin on skin. Hard to wet. Cock to pussy. It was bliss.

  “Yessssss.”

  “Look at me.”

  His hand on the back of her neck gave her no choice. His hand on her hip gave her no option. With a steady push, he parted her.

  She should have been scared. It’d been a long time, and he was big, much bigger than her husband. But she wasn’t. She gloried in the burn, in the possession. “More.”

  “Easy. We have time.”

  She didn’t want time. She wanted him. “Now.”

  Bending her knees, she forced him deeper. Her flesh gave under the force. Shock went through her in a shudder.

  “Damn it.”

  She didn’t care. “I don’t care.”

  He was in her, stretching her. The pain was part of the completion. She needed it to wipe the past clean. She needed him.

  “Don’t move.”

  She couldn’t if she wanted to.

  “It didn’t have to be like that.”

  Yes. It did. “I wanted it.”

  “Open your dress.”

  She did, her fingers all thumbs. With a jerk of his chin he ordered, “Take out your breast.”

  The night air was cool on her overheated flesh. Her nipple beaded. She knew he was looking at her. “Make it harder,” he commanded.

  Rolling the nipple between her thumb and forefinger, she made it ache. His hand slipped under her skirts. Parting her slick lips with slow deliberation, he centered his thumb on that throbbing point that begged for attention. She could feel him watching her reaction as he drew slow circles on the sensitive tip. She knew and reveled in it. She didn’t hide anything.

  “Offer it to me.”

  His voice was a sultry rasp. His tongue the perfect torment. Hot, wet heat surrounded her nipple. Sparks sizzled along her skin. The fire burned high. The knot in her stomach coiled tighter and tighter. The pressure built. It was too much. It wasn’t enough.

  “More,” she whispered.

  “Yes,” he groaned back. His thumb kept working that sensitive spot as he worked his hips in small pulses. Opening her more. Preparing her.

  “Please.”

  “Easy.”

  No. She didn’t know what she needed, but it was close. Very close. She needed it. She needed it . . . Digging her nails into his chest, she begged. “Now.”

  “Yes, now.” Leaning back, he balanced her on his cock, switching his hands to her hips. Lifting her. His cock slid along her sensitive tissues. She couldn’t bear it.

  “So good.”

  “Yes.”

  He drove back into her. Once. Twice. And then again and again. Carefully at first, but then harder as his control slipped and it was her turn to growl.

  “Don’t stop.”

  “Hell no.”

  The coil was tightening and hot. So tight. She needed something. It was too much.

  “Jackson.”

  Leaning forward, he growled seductively in her ear. A dark angel demanding his due. “Beg me.”

  Shivers raced down her spine. Chills arced outward from her center. His thumb worked her sensitive spot as hard as his cock worked her pussy. Oh, God. Oh, God. She needed more. Just a little more.

  “Jackson!”

  Raking her nails down his chest, she growled right back. “Please, Jackson. I need you. Please.”

  “Son of a bitch.”

  His thumb left her clit. His fingers dug into her hi
ps. He lifted her up and dropped her down. He plundered her pussy the way he plundered her mouth. Totally and completely, without anything held back. It was wild. It was crazy. It was almost perfect.

  “Come for me. Let go.”

  She couldn’t form the words, describe the sensation. “I don’t know—”

  On an “I do” he pumped hard and fast, catching her clit between his thumb and forefinger, teasing and caressing in rhythm until her breath deserted her and she was dangling on the edge of a cliff.

  Just when she thought she couldn’t take any more, the coil exploded, and she convulsed. It was only his hand over her mouth that kept her scream contained, but nothing could contain the pleasure that pulsed within her, gripping him with every stroke. Three more strokes and he pulsed high inside her, flooding her with his pleasure, binding them with satisfaction. Slowly, she came down off the spiral. Just as slowly he removed his hand from her mouth.

  She slid her arms around his neck. He slid his around her waist.

  His forehead dropped to hers. “Damn, woman.”

  “Damn, man.”

  “I think we might be in trouble here.”

  Twelve

  Trouble found them a week later. It came sneaking through the woods, four men deep. It came the way trouble does, with no warning.

  Tony noticed the riders first. In the middle of playing tag, he stopped dead and hollered, “Riders!”

  Pushing aside the sheet she was hanging, Mimi searched for the children. They knew what to do if strangers approached. They’d practiced it. Not only because of Mac but because, out here, strangers often meant danger.

  Tony was standing in the middle of the yard. Kevin and Melinda Sue were chasing each other nearby.

  When Tony’s warning sank in, Kevin stopped so fast Melinda Sue slammed into his back.

  Oblivious to the potential danger, she crowed, “Tag! You’re it. You’re it.”

  Kevin might have been slower to realize something was wrong, but he was faster to react. “Come on, Melinda Sue, run.”

  He bolted toward the house. Just as they’d practiced. Melinda Sue stayed behind. “Tony! Hurry.”

  Mimi dropped the laundry and screamed, “Jackson!”

  But Jackson was hunting. Calling for him was as useless as the bell they’d bought to summon help. It sat on the ground beside the steps, too heavy to lift. They hadn’t had time to set it up, because covering the well had been a greater priority, or so they’d thought at the time.