Rocky Mountain Rogue (Rocky Mountain Bride Series Book 5)

by Lee Savino

  "Mmm," she murmured, and nuzzled his chest. "That was wonderful."

  He kissed her neck, noting the little red mark he'd left on her throat. She'd have bruises tomorrow. But for now, she practically purred.

  It seemed his baggage had a taste for rough, and he was certainly ready to dish it. He'd definitely have to see about them staying in town for a few days. Doyle be damned.

  His arms tightened and Susannah let out a satisfied mew. She was so small and delicate in his arms, a perfect pixie. Yet, the temper that spilled out of her was fit for a queen. He had a feeling he hadn't even begun to plumb the depths that was his Susannah, but, oh, did he want to.

  One thing he did know: his little bride wasn't going to get away from him so easily.

  * * *

  When Susannah woke, the first thing she noticed was how sore her bottom was. Not only that, but the place between her legs had a hint of satisfied ache. She shifted and realized a man's naked arm was draped over her waist, one hand dangerously close to brushing her bosom. Lifting her head, she met Jesse's sleepy gaze.

  "Hey." He grinned, and all the memories of last night came rushing in.

  Susannah pushed herself up, drawing the blanket over her body. "Oh my god. Oh my god."

  "Actually, the name's Jesse." He pulled the blanket back down, chuckling as she struggled to win the tug of war.

  "I can't... you just... what happened?"

  "We consummated our marriage," he said with satisfaction. "Although we could also say that you experienced pleasure beyond anything you've ever known." His hips jerked, pulsing against her, reminding her body of how he'd filled her.

  "We lay together." She pushed back her hair so he could see her disbelieving expression. How could she have been so weak? How could he now look so smug?

  "Well, I wasn't horizontal much. Maybe next time."

  "You rogue." She swatted him. "You scoundrel."

  He caught her hand and kissed it. "Methinks the lady doth protest too much."

  She pushed him away with a cry. "We were supposed to get the marriage annulled!" Scrambling off the bed, she put a few feet between him and her traitorous, needy body.

  Jesse propped himself up on an arm, his black hair brushing his forehead. "Yeah, about that, maybe you could stay awhile. I'd like to take you back to my homestead, have you meet my kin. See if we'd suit." He shrugged, looking so endearingly boyish that she took a step forward before she remembered herself.

  "Mr. Oberon...Wilder. Whatever your name is—"

  "I think we're past all that now, Susannah. Call me Jesse."

  She growled in frustration and put her hands on her hips. "We can't stay married; it simply won't do."

  He came off the bed, then, his open and happy expression falling away. "Why not? Am I not good enough for you?"

  Her head tilted back to look into his flashing green eyes. She always forgot how much taller and larger he was, at least until she provoked him. He advanced, his bare chest filling her vision, his muscles distracting her with their dazzling array. Her mouth went dry and her heartbeat quickened as it always did when he used his body to intimidate.

  "Jesse," she attempted to be reasonable, "we can't do this."

  "Do what?" He pushed forward, herding her backwards, the slope of his muscles and the heat in his green eyes making her forget her argument.

  "Continue with our marriage!"

  "Why not, baggage?"

  "You, me... What will people think?"

  His face hardened. "Why do you care?"

  She gaped at him.

  "Answer me, Susannah. Why do you care what people think? Are you ashamed of me?"

  "No." She wasn't, really, but the thought of remaining married to a rogue... well, it just wasn't proper. Was it?

  He relaxed. "Then why are you so worried?"

  His soothing tone, blended with the close proximity of his well-muscled chest had every thought flying out of her head. His lips were red and ready, forbidden fruit. She put her hands behind her back and closed her eyes. Last night she'd given in to her passions, but in the light of day, things weren't so simple. Susannah Moore couldn't hitch her life to an outlaw vigilante. If her aunt found out... if anyone found out...

  "Susannah." She could feel his face close to hers. "Come back to me."

  She sighed. It would be so lovely, to live her life as she pleased, as if no one else was watching. His lips touched hers, entreating. She leaned forward.

  "Admit it. We're right together." He laid light kisses over her face, his hands sliding down her arms to clasp hers. "Touch me. Feel what we have between us."

  Her eyes snapped open. "It isn't proper."

  "You sound like a parrot when you say that," he mocked gently. His fingers came up to cup her chin, his touch soothing away his sarcasm. "Who is it that taught you that phrase? And what does it even mean?"

  "If my aunt, my acquaintances found out about all that has happened..." She shook her head, unable to finish the sentence. It was just too unthinkable. She'd be a laughingstock. An outcast.

  Maybe they would never find out the true circumstances of her meeting Jesse, and marriage... but what if they did? What would they say about her?

  "You're afraid," her husband stated. "It's all right, darling. I haven't been the best of grooms, but I'll make it up to you. Give your fears to me." His arms wrapped around her body. "All that matters is you're mine, and nobody is taking you away from me."

  Twisting out of his loose hold, she stepped away. "I'm hardly yours." She scrubbed away her tears. "One night does not a marriage make." He must have some power to draw women to him, she thought bitterly. His charms certainly worked on her, across an entire continent.

  "Do I have to convince you?" Without waiting for a response, he lifted her, and carried her to the bed, where he covered her with his large body. He planted his arms on either side of her torso, flexing his muscles to hold most of his weight. Susannah lay on her back in the warm Jesse cocoon, effectively trapped.

  "Get off of me, you big oaf. This is no way to behave."

  His lips curved in the mischievous smirk she knew so well. "I'm half man, half ass, what do you expect?"

  "You're a halfwit, is what you are."

  Throwing back his head, he laughed. This close up, the sight was heart stopping. Watching the smooth, strong column of his throat work with mirth, Susannah felt like her heart would beat out of her chest. She'd waited her whole life for this moment, this man. Then Jesse leaned down and kissed her.

  His mouth was heaven. Susannah tilted her head and dwelt there, in the kiss, in his affection, in the desire he had for her.

  The kiss deepened, and her nipples pointed, hard as bullets. She pressed against him as if she would drive them into his chest. When he broke the kiss it took her a moment to remember why she must protest.

  "Jesse! Will you stop... We must talk this out."

  "I'm an oaf and halfwit, remember. I don't understand a word you're saying. I don't know the meaning of the word proper, and I bet, after a day with me, I could make you forget." He pressed himself against her, and she gasped at the feel of his hard length at her center. "Do you feel this? How can you say we don't belong together?"

  "Isn't it always so between a man and woman?" Susannah fought against the overwhelming tide of desire that threatened all her good sense.

  "Have you been with any other?"

  "Of course I haven't," she snapped, and her breath caught again when he gave a half thrust. Her body was waking up; every nerve was singing. She had never felt so alive, so beautiful. Not even her fiancé, Roger, had filled her with such giddiness in one moment, and primal desire the next.

  "Trust me, baggage," he said, and for once the term was full of endearment, "what we have is special. Write it on the stars special." And he kissed her again, leaving her almost breathless.

  Almost. When it was over, she frowned. "I'm sure you would know. You and your many women."

  He cocked his head, his look tell
ing her that her jealousy didn't bother him one bit. His body now rested in the cradle of her hips, reminding her of how intimate they really were. She was sore in places she hadn't known existed—secret, feminine places. The ache almost felt good. Not that she would admit it. Struggling, she pushed at his chest. "Let me go."

  "Not until you understand me." But he rolled off of her, propping himself on his side, his body still angled towards hers.

  It was very strange, having a conversation with a half-naked man. A very handsome, half naked man.

  An infuriating, handsome, half naked man.

  Gazing into his green eyes, she frowned. Could she stay and be Mrs. Jesse Oberon? Yes, he was a rogue and she was a lady. But he gave her the care and attention that she'd hungered for her whole life. His touch was a bit rough, to be sure, but to have a man desire her so much he would lose control was almost flattering. She didn't even mind the spanking. Strangely, the pain almost drew her to him. Tied up and helpless under his hands... she shuddered to think of it, and yet wanted desperately to feel it again.

  Facing her, Jesse was silent, waiting patiently for her protests. With his dark, tousled hair and amused smile lurking around the corner, he seemed almost boyish. But his body and confidence was that of a man, and even after all that had gone on between them, Susannah found that irresistible.

  "I need answers," she said finally. "Who is Rosie May to you?"

  "A friend, nothing more. Miss May isn't her real name—that was the stage name my sister-in-law used. The woman you know as Rosie May is impersonating my sister-in-law, to keep Doyle from harassing her and my brother further. He sent men again to drag my brother's Rose back into his employ."

  Her eyes widened. "He did that? What happened?"

  "All his men died. An unfortunate accident." His mouth grinned, but his green eyes were hard.

  Susannah stilled.

  "Does that bother you, baggage?"

  "Were they very bad men?" she asked carefully.

  "They would've killed my brother and raped his wife, if their instructions had let them. You don't have to believe me, you can ask Lyle and his Rose when you meet them."

  She took a deep breath. The thought of meeting Jesse's family was more intimidating than the fact that he'd killed a handful of men.

  "I've been working this plan since that incident," he continued. There was no humor in her Jesse anymore, but when he paused and reached for her hand, she let him take it. He rubbed his thumb over her skin, staring at her delicate fingers as if they gave him comfort. "I hired Rosie May to draw off Doyle's attention, and put more schemes into motion to weaken him. I've been bleeding Doyle dry. Robbed his stage, along with other schemes to keep his money tied up. He's more deadly with gold than he is with a gun. The gold gives him power. If I have my way, soon he'll have none." He paused a long moment. "I'll tell you another thing, Susannah—though you can tell no one else."

  She nodded.

  "I rode with Doyle's men, the Royal Mountain gang. Just a few, small jobs where they needed a rider and a gun. The plan was to infiltrate their ranks, get close to Boone and Doyle's top men, and then kill them. Make it look like an accident." He let out a mirthless chuckle. "Then I was going to go home, clean up my act, and ride to meet and marry you. Things didn't work out as I'd planned. I'm sorry."

  At his sigh, she tilted her head and gave him a rueful smile. "It's all right. We're both alive."

  Lifting her hand, he pressed his lips to her fingers. "I don't deserve you," he murmured against her skin, and suddenly, Susannah felt close to tears. Here was a strong, powerful man, walking on his chosen course, alone. Perhaps he needed her as much as she wanted him.

  "Nonsense," she said shakily. "Where would Titania be without her Mr. Oberon?"

  "Probably dining with some rich merchant in Boston harbor," he said, and she laughed.

  "One doesn't dine in Boston harbor," she said with feigned haughtiness.

  "Oh, right, that's where you take your tea." His mocking tone was back, and she loved it all the more. She hadn't realized how much she would miss it when it was gone.

  "Well, then, Mr. Oberon. Now what?"

  "If I had my way, I'd burn Doyle's place of business to the ground with him in it. A bullet's too good for him." Jesse shrugged. "We'll see." He pinned her with his green-eyed gaze. "You wanna stick around and find out?"

  Swallowing hard, she just stared at him.

  "Does it frighten you?"

  She nodded.

  "You're afraid of me." He sounded resigned.

  "No," she said quickly, and realized it was true. She moved closer, taking his other hand in hers. "I'm afraid of the things you're capable of. But I'm not afraid of you. There's a line, I think you wouldn't cross... You think you have, that you're evil. But I know the truth." His gaze turned wary; she felt him want to pull away, and she reaffirmed her grip on his hands. "Jesse, you're a good man."

  He scoffed then, and did pull away. "I tell you of the men I've killed, and the things I would do, and you call me a good man."

  "You are. All these things—you put your life at risk for the ones you love. I don't see anything wrong with that. There's a man to be stopped, and no one will stop him. So you decide it's up to you, and go and do it. I've never met anyone like you."

  "I'm a dangerous man."

  "I know that. I also know, you would never hurt me."

  He shifted back towards her, the heat of his body and gaze hitting her with force. "I want to." His lips curled, sardonic and sad. His green eyes were haunted, but unapologetic. "Sometimes I want to tie you up and whip you until you don't know the difference between pleasure and pain. I can do that, you know—make you feel pleasure so sharp, it cuts like a knife. What do you think about that?" His eyebrow went up in challenge.

  "I..." She paused; her heart beat almost through her chest. She forced herself to meet his gaze boldly, with a sardonic look of her own. "I think I might like that."

  * * *

  A knock on the door startled them both.

  "Who is it?" Jesse called gruffly, even as Susannah rushed to cover herself.

  "Sebastian Chivington. Spare me a minute, old boy?"

  Jesse sighed.

  "Go on," Susannah said. "I should probably dress and eat something."

  "Just a moment," Jesse called back, and started pulling on his clothes. Once he was dressed, he turned back to Susannah sitting on the bed, looking sweet and virginal wrapped in a blanket, blonde hair cascading down her shoulders.

  "I'll be back as soon as I can," he said, leaning in to kiss her. She flushed, but accepted it.

  "Stay in the room; I'll send some food in."

  "Thank you," she said softly, and he felt a little rush of pride, knowing she'd be here waiting for him when he returned.

  Buckling on his holster, he strode into the hall. "This better be good," he told the Englishman. As usual, the lord was in a dapper suit, his hair coiffed and clean as a woman's.

  "Fantastic news." Chivington slapped Jesse's back in usual greeting. "I found you a coach to take your bride away."

  "Keep your voice down." Grabbing the lord's arm, Jesse dragged him away from the door.

  "Trouble in paradise?"

  Jesse looked up and down the empty hall before leaning closer. "No. Quite the opposite, if you must know."

  "Ah, so you've convinced her to stay, then."

  Jesse gave his friend a sharp look. As much as the lord tried to hide it, there was intelligence in Chivington's blue grey eyes. Jesse often wondered why his friend put on such ridiculous airs. There must be some enjoyment the lord received by letting everyone think he was a fool.

  "I was concerned last night that your marriage might last as long as a match in a gale. But it seems you've worked the old Jesse charm. You'll have to tell me your secret."

  "Maybe one day I will." Jesse ran a hand through his hair. "I should tell her about the coach."

  "Does she want to stay with you?"

  Jesse grimaced
.

  "Ah…" Chivington nodded sagely. "Perhaps a few more days of honeymoon will convince her. I'll tell the stage to stand by. My business isn't quite finished here, but when it is, I expect I'll want a quick getaway."

  The lord's gaze was serious, and both he and Jesse shared a knowing nod. The business the Englishman spoke of was his part of Jesse's plan to overthrow Doyle.

  "Thank you, Chivington. I'm in your debt."

  "Think nothing of it. Consider it a wedding gift." Chivington straightened, pulling his usual foppishness around him like a coat. "If anyone comes after me, I'm gratified to know the best shot in the West will avenge my death."

  Jesse scoffed. "Who says I'd avenge you? Especially because it's likely to be Susannah, when she finds you reserved a coach and didn't tell her."

  "I never said not to tell her. Give her the option, old boy. Let her decide."

  Jesse felt pain squeeze his chest. Could he do that? Let her go?

  "Trust me on this, Wilder. Give her the option and then prove to her that staying is the best decision."

  Jesse sighed.

  "Good luck, old boy," the lord said. "You and your bride are invited to dinner tonight, if she decides to keep you." Jesse's hands fisted at his side to keep from beating the smug smile off of his friend's face, and Chivington retreated, chuckling.

  With a final glance at his bedroom door, Jesse left for his errands, telling himself he'd be quick. He didn't want his baggage to go wandering off, after all. After ordering food for the room, Jesse detoured to the stables where his stallion, Jordan, greeted him with a nicker. The big horse plainly didn't like being cooped up for so long.

  "Only a few more days," Jesse spoke softly as he curried Jordan's coat. "Or a few more hours, depending on my luck." Would Susannah leave him? There were times when she seemed on the verge of throwing something at him. But the way she sighed in his arms... If she asked to go, would he be strong enough to let her?

  He found his feet dragging as he returned to the hotel, and stopped to make another request of the innkeeper.

  He'd shot his share of enemies, up close and from a distance. But he'd never felt trepidation more than when he opened the door.

  Susannah was waiting for him in her demure blue dress, sitting on her bed, her long hair flowing over her shoulders and hairbrush near her hand. She smiled at him, then she caught a look at his somber face. "What's wrong?"