Seeks for Her

by Merry Farmer

  “Be who your heart tells you to be,” he whispered, stroking the side of her face. “Do what it tells you to do.”

  She took his words in and held perfectly still. He could feel the tension and heat of her body as she wrestled with her demons and her desires. It took every ounce of his will power not to close her in his arms and kiss the hesitation out of her.

  At long last, she lifted her gaze to meet his and said, “I want you.”

  Pride and victory and love that took his breath away blossomed in Thomas’s chest. He lifted a hand to cradle the side of her face, stroking his thumb along the ridge of her cheekbone. Her skin was soft and hot under his touch. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, gripping to the fragile edges of her own strength, a strength she had yet to fully realize. Everything in him wanted to take her in and make her stronger.

  He tilted her face up to his and covered her sweet mouth with a kiss. The time for respectful distance was passed. He parted her lips with his own and tasted her with his tongue, with the beat of his heart, and the all the sinews of his body. She responded with passion like a flame whipped by the wind, surging into him. Her arms embraced him, fingers digging into the flesh of his back with a steadiness that told him she knew what she wanted.

  He dropped his hand down her back to caress the curve of her backside. Her breath hitched. The sound shot electric pulses of need through him. She leaned into him, pressing her hips into the hardening evidence of his desire. Everything about her was open and ready. He drew her hips closer to him, lifted her thigh to hold against the side of his leg. With deep kisses that left him half dizzy, it still wasn’t enough.

  He reached for her backside again with both hands and lifted her to straddle his waist. With the bulk of her skirts it was awkward, but she fought to circle her legs around him, to hold him with her whole body.

  “Where should I take you?” he whispered.

  Her breath was quick and shallow, her eyes alive with desire.

  “That room there.” She nodded to the far end of the hall.

  Chapter Seven

  She pulsed with a passion that had been dormant for more than fifteen years, a passion that had never fully manifested itself until now. Thomas carried her down the hall, feet not making a sound, but breath deep and ragged with the desire he couldn’t hide. Good God! This handsome, brilliant, kind man wanted her! Wanted her. She must have been dreaming.

  He opened her bedroom door with one hand, slipped through into the darkness, and shut the door behind them. Then he turned and pressed her back against the closed door, kissing her with a completeness that left her breath in tatters and her body aching for him. He was so strong to keep her balanced off the ground while his mouth ravaged hers. One hand traced up her leg, pushing her skirt aside to touch the tingling flesh of her thigh. The thin cotton of her drawers was nothing as he squeezed her backside. She wanted so much more. How had she ever thought to deny herself this pleasure?

  His mouth was insistent without being dominating. His tongue was a wonder of taste and sensation as it played with hers. She went to thread her fingers through his hair only to find it caught up in a plait down his back. Without thinking, she searched for the tie, tugging it out, and combing her fingers through strands of thick, soft hair until it fell long and loose around his shoulders.

  He groaned in approval, mouth moving from hers to kiss the line of her jaw, her neck. His hot breath and kisses trailed over her throbbing pulse. Her whole body throbbed for him. She tilted her hips into him, humming with victory when she met the spear of his erection just where it needed to be against her. Despite their clothes, she ground against him, leaving no secrets to what she wanted from him.

  Thomas responded with a grunt of pure male sensuality. He let her sink from her position pinned to the door, and as soon as her feet were on the ground he reached for the buttons of her blouse. She responded by tugging the bottom of his shirt out of his pants. In the heat of summer, he wore no undershirt and her eager hands met smooth skin and hard muscle right away. He was perfect in so many ways, fit and powerful. She inched her hands up from his abdomen to feel more of him, his chest, nipples hard.

  Undressing switched from being a sensual exercise to a chore that needed to be over as quickly as possible. He stepped back to lift his shirt over his head and threw it aside as she finished with her buttons where he had left off. She dropped her blouse in a careless pile on the floor, letting her skirt fall with it, her corset and chemise and drawers. She couldn’t bare herself to him fast enough. Her body burned to be naked and embraced by his.

  He finished undressing before her and stood waiting as she finished. The sight of his naked body in all its masculine glory made her knees weak. In the faint light of the moon that poured in through the window, she could see the broad definition of his chest and arms and thighs corded with muscles that betrayed he was a warrior at heart. She could see the thickness of his shaft as it stood up, bold and challenging. He was large, his head flared and already tipped with moisture. The thought of the full length and girth of him inside of her filled her with a hunger that bordered on fear.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he said, his voice heavy with desire. “So beautiful.”

  She was speechless. All she could do was step toward him, mouth open and ready for him.

  He caught her as she came close, wrapping his arms around her and lifting her against him. Her senses exploded with the joy of his body against hers. The heat of his skin infused her, his strength encompassed her. The hardness of his penis against her abdomen drove her wild with wanting. Even as he kissed her with all the depth of his passion, she reached between them to feel him.

  He caught his breath as she smoothed her palm along his length, curling her fingers around what she wanted. He was so much bigger than Bo, bigger than any man she had seen. She stroked down to touch his balls, feeling a need as old as time to be possessed by this powerful, potent man. He let out a ragged breath and relaxed, bending his head to rest against hers as she explored him.

  “I will understand if it’s too much,” he whispered. She could hear the heartbreak behind his kindness.

  “No, it’s not.” She raised her eyes to meet his, surprised to find vulnerability there. “You’re perfect.”

  A wash of emotions played across his strong face, relief and concern and a love that was so deep even she couldn’t doubt it. He circled his arms around her, embracing her with as much gratitude as passion, as much love as sensuality. He pivoted with her and walked her to the bed, lying across the tired old coverlet with her.

  She knew in an instant that she wanted this man on top of her now and always. His gentle weight sent her heart soring. The ache between her legs swirled higher and deeper, longing to be filled with all of him. She brought her leg up, toes tracing his calf, to bring their thighs into deeper contact.

  He kissed her with careful control, carnal but reverent. His hand journeyed from her hip across her side and up to caress her breast as though he had waited his whole life to make that journey. She sighed at the size of his hand as he circled her breast and squeezed. He rubbed his thumb over her already hard nipple, making it harder, then shifted to close his mouth over it. She writhed with pleasure as he teased her with his tongue, licking and suckling. She gasped aloud at the sensation, catching her fingers in his hair and willing him to never stop.

  He switched to tease and entice her other breast with lips and tongue, leaving his hand to continue on the first. She mewled with the sensations he produced, her hips arching up to him in supplication almost of their own accord. She was beyond reason, overcome with passion deeper than anything she’d ever felt. It went far, far beyond the youthful flush of experimentation she’d felt at first with Bo. This was a woman’s unleashed need reveling in the power of the sensual.

  Thomas left her breast, mouth traveling lower over the plain of her stomach. Her body hadn’t been perfect for years, but he kissed and cherished those imperfections. His han
ds stroked the curves of her sides, his tongue teased her flesh as he dropped lower and lower to the part of her that was wet and waiting for him. The pressure of his fingertips pressing into her, slipping lower to hold and control the movement of her hips, was beautiful.

  She opened herself freely to him when he reached the juncture of her thighs. Without hesitation he continued his mouth’s heady mission of pleasure. His fingers delved, spreading her flesh so that he could taste the heart of her. She gasped and hummed when his mouth covered the aching nub of her clitoris. He sucked gently then began to circle and stroke her with his tongue. It was beyond heaven. The power of the sensation was so strong that she felt herself rocket to the edge as fast a lightning.

  Her body burst into orgasm with such strength that she cried out with it. It was no short, vague pleasure like she’d felt in the past. It was deep and long. He slid a finger inside of her to catch the pulsing of her core, then two fingers. As her tremors slowed, leaving her loose and sparkling, he added a third and stretched her. The sensation was odd and new and wonderful. He urged her wider.

  With his fingers still in place, he slid his large, firm body up her now damp and pulsing torso until his mouth met hers. His kiss combined with the erotic pushing of his fingers inside of her excited her anew.

  “I want to make sure you’re ready,” he explained, his hand moving between her legs in imitation of what she still longed for.

  “I am,” she replied.

  She reached for the hardness of his erection to prove it. Ripples of excitement raced across her skin and swirled through her core at the prospect of having all of him buried in her. She wriggled beneath him, running her fingernails across his hips and backside to prove it.

  He tensed and groaned at the gesture. With infinite care he positioned himself over her, between her legs. He stroked himself against the wet folds of her sex, igniting her all over again. She arched against him, increasing the friction against her clitoris to the point where she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out. Then he shifted and pressed the head of his shaft into her.

  She gasped at the size of him. In the dark and in the wildness of passion he felt impossibly large as he pushed in, inch by slow, heady inch. Her pulse raced and her thoughts scattered as her body eagerly took him in. The way he stretched her, filled her to the point where she was sure she couldn’t take any more, then went deeper left her panting. She dug her fingertips into his back and spread her legs wide to accept all of him.

  When he was buried deep, he let out a breath, panting himself. “Are you all right?” he managed to ask through the strain of his control.

  “Yes,” she answered. She slipped her hands lower to the small of his back. “You’re so big.”

  It was a foolish thing to say, but the deep, rumbling laugh that shook him and caused the most amazing sensations in her body was worth it.

  He began to move in her. He was slow at first, perfectly controlled. He drew himself out almost completely before pushing back in again with infinite patience. The gentle friction made her hum for more. He withdrew again, and this time when he surged back into her it was with greater insistence. Her body adjusted, learning the feel of him. He kept moving, kept pushing and testing. Carefully, tenderly, his control loosened.

  He began to thrust in earnest. His breath grew shallow and ragged above her, his muscles tensed and bunched as he sped up. Each new thrust brought with it deeper sensual discovery. Her humming turned to sighs, which in turn became moans as he plumbed her with growing passion. She felt him struggle for control and felt him lose the struggle, and somehow nothing had ever felt as wonderful as the big, powerful man in her arms who had such potential to hurt her pouring his passion into her. He thrust with abandon, shaking the bed with the force of his desire. He claimed her so definitively that all she wanted in the world was to serve his boundless passion and be served by it in return.

  At last he came with a gasp of pleasure that reverberated through her. It tipped her over the edge, and as he spent the last of himself inside of her, her body responded with an orgasm that shuddered and squeezed him. She tightened her arms and legs around him as though she could keep both of them in the intensity of their orgasms.

  As swiftly as a thunderstorm passing in the sultry night, they were still. They lay together, Thomas still inside of her, panting. Rebecca didn’t want to let him go. She pressed her fingertips into the loose muscles of his back, holding him close as he shifted to his side so that he wouldn’t crush her. As he rested his head on the pillow next to hers, she kissed him, soft and fleeting, as every ounce of her energy melted away.

  “That was wonderful,” she whispered. Exhaustion settled over her and she closed her eyes.

  “It was,” he agreed. A new note of tenderness had entered his voice. He gently pulled out of her and lay on his back, drawing her to his side. “Sleep now,” he whispered. “You deserve it.”

  Yes, she thought as she let go and did as he said, I deserve this.

  Thomas drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly as he stared at the ceiling of Rebecca’s room. A sated smile spread across his lips. Rebecca snuggled closer to his side. He listened to her breathing, felt the gentle release of her limbs growing heavy in sleep. He stroked the long line of her arm as it rested across his chest. It was too hot a night for this kind of closeness, but he wouldn’t complain. He had found her, found what his heart had been seeking for.

  With his body satisfied he should have been sleepy, but his mind raced. There was so much to think about. He would not dishonor this amazing woman in his arms by keeping his distance from her or by exposing her to any more gossip than she had already endured. He would marry her as soon as she would let him. That went without saying. It meant that he would need to make arrangements for a house large enough for her and her children.

  He shifted as his plan came clearer in his mind. He would need to speak with her parents, explain the completeness of his love for Rebecca and ask for their blessing. If his calculations were correct, Angus McGee was recovering in Butte and would be well enough to return home in a few days. He could meet the man at the station, see him home, and ask—

  A door slammed downstairs. Thomas tensed. Rebecca slept on. A few moments later, heavy footfalls stomped up the stairs. They quieted as they reached the hall then climbed the second set of stairs to the third floor. Another door opened and shut. Grover.

  Thomas checked to be sure Rebecca was still asleep, then carefully slipped away from her and out of bed. They had made love on top of the bed without ever pulling the covers back. He watched Rebecca for a moment before deciding it was too hot to cover her with the blanket draped over the foot of the bed.

  In the moonlight he found his trousers and shirt and put them on without tucking the shirt in. As silently as he could, he walked to the door and stepped into the hall, shutting the door behind him. The steps leading up to the attic and what must have been Grover’s room were close to Rebecca’s door. Thomas craned his neck to look up those stairs. There were two doors in the tiny hall one floor up, but no light coming from under either of them.

  He debated attempting to talk to Grover right then. Grover may have been more of a young man than a boy, but he would be part of Thomas’s responsibility soon enough. He had charged out of the house without telling his mother where he was going after speaking harshly to her. It needed to be addressed.

  Thomas sighed, letting his shoulders relax. It needed to be addressed, but not tonight.

  He rubbed a hand over his face and through his long hair, glancing first at the door to Rebecca’s room and then down the hall. He made his decision and walked silently down the hall to check on the girls.

  The door to Rachel and Lorraine’s room had been left open. The barest of breezes rippled the curtains. Moonlight made a trail across the worn old carpet. He crept up to the side of Lorraine’s bed and rested a hand on her forehead. He smiled. The sweet girl was much cooler now and sleeping comfortably. Confidence that
she would be back at the pond, laughing and splashing with her friends, filled him.

  When he turned to check on Rachel, he found her staring at him.

  “You’re awake,” he whispered and sat on the side of her bed.

  Rachel nodded.

  “Did you have a bad dream?” he asked. He laid his palm against her cheek, testing her temperature just to be sure.

  “No,” she murmured. “I just woke up. I’ve been in bed for days.”

  “You were sick, but I think you are well now.” He smiled.

  She returned his smile. “Can I go swimming tomorrow? I’m hot.”

  “We’ll see, Little Fish.”

  He smoothed her hair back from her forehead and stood.

  “Dr. Smith?” Rachel stopped him. When he sat again she asked, “Do you like my mama?”

  Thomas couldn’t hide the smile that welled up from his heart. “Very much. She is like the deer in the forest that weathers many storms but does not lose her gracefulness, even when chased by wolves.”

  Rachel laughed, gently, as only a child could. “I like the way you talk.”

  “Do you?”

  She nodded. “I like you.”

  A deep joy filled Thomas’s chest. “I like you too, Little Fish.”

  She laughed again. “Will you stay and marry my mama? Grandpa keeps saying she needs a new husband.”

  Thomas blinked at the tiny revelation, his inner joy spreading. “Only if you think you and Lorraine and Helen and Grover would want me for a father.”

  “Grover’s too old for a father,” she replied. “But I think you’d be a good one. Better than our real father. You’re nicer.”

  Her words, so innocently meant, sent arrows of pain through his chest. A girl who was hardly more than ten should not have to recognize that her father was a bad one.

  He leaned close to kiss her forehead. “I will do my best,” he said. “If your mother gives me that chance.” He tucked the sheet over her shoulders and stood.