by Roxy Harte
He closed his mind to the thought. She was here with him now, and that was all that mattered.
A primal thought rose from the pit of need building in his guts. Mine. But he'd already had that argument with himself more times than he'd have believed possible. She wasn't his, never would be.
He wanted her to be free, wanted her to experience the joy a hawk felt drifting on the wind.
He also wanted her to always come back to him. He'd heard tell of falcons trained to hunt and return to a man's arm. They were free. Once in the air, they might decide to keep flying. It was a chance the hunter took.
He held out his arms. “Come here.”
She stepped into his arms and lifted her mouth. It was obvious she expected to be kissed. He didn't kiss her. Daniel rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip. “How many mouths have these lips kissed today?”
Her eyes grew wider. “None.”
“You don't have to lie to me.”
She dropped her face, shamefully. “I'm not lying.”
When Daniel lifted her chin, he saw she was crying. “Tell me.”
“I'm a horrible whore. While Dao-Ming and Fang-Hua spread their legs all day, I bathed. Again and again. They are still there, working, and I'm here.”
He stroked her cheek, wiping away a damp streak. He didn't want to be her escape from a life she didn't want. He wanted to be her first choice. “You only came here to hide?”
“I had to see you. Ever since you watched the bath—no…ever since I walked away from you in town—I've thought about you. It seemed, on the trail, like ”—she bit her lip—“but then in town, you would have shared me with your men so easily.”
“It was special, Lucy; don't doubt that. I came to care about you on the trail. And nothing was ever said about me sharing you. Why would you believe that?”
Her uncertainty weighed heavily on her face.
“That's why I came back to the saloon. I had to see you.”
“Oh you saw me, all right.” Lucy pulled out of his arms and stepped closer to the fireplace, keeping her back to him. “You and all the others.”
Daniel stepped up behind her and looped his arms around her waist to hug her closer when he closed the distance between their bodies. He kissed her shoulder. “God, you were beautiful. I've never seen anything like the performance you put on this morning.”
“Performance?” She laughed. “I took a bath.”
He nuzzled her neck, inhaling a fragrance he didn't recognize but that smelled expensive. “Some bath.” He grew hard and pressed the proof of his need against her hip. “You made me horny as hell.”
Lucy dropped her head back against his chest and looked up at him. “You can still want me? Now that I'm a—”
He stopped her words with a kiss and started unbuttoning the front of her dress. The heat from the fire warmed his hands. He imagined her feeling that warmth as her skin was bared.
“I want you, Lucy. I want you to be mine.”
She shook her head. “I can't.”
He turned her in his arms and looked deep into her eyes so that she would feel his sincerity. “The men out there—the ones who have to pay you to be with you—you will never be theirs. Here, you are mine.”
He kissed her again, wanting her to believe it, wanting her to return to him again and again, like the falcon, free but tethered. He wished he could explain that to her as he pulled her dress down her body, exposing her lush curves to the flickering light.
He undressed while she watched, liking the way her gaze traveled over his body. Kneeling in front of her, he lifted her leg and tucked it over his shoulder. He held her knee when she would have pulled away. She was open to him, her feminine folds close enough for her musky scent to tease his nose. He kept his gaze trained up, watching her face as his finger teased through her wetness. “By coming here tonight, you've told me this is mine.”
She flinched as he pushed his finger deeper, leaving him unsure as to whether it was his words or his touch discomforting her. As he slid his finger back and forth, her hips rocked with the rhythm he set. “You like this. You like sex.”
Her hands trembled at her sides until, finally, she stroked his face. “I like you. I like the way you make me feel when you touch me.”
“Is that why you're here?”
“Yes.”
“The lawman didn't bring you pleasure last night?”
She gasped and tried to pull away.
“I stayed near to keep you safe. Do you even realize the danger you have put yourself in?”
She looked at him blankly.
“You are a Negro woman.”
“I'm free now. I can do what I want here.”
“Some folks may still disagree with that, and if anything happened to you, I would never forgive myself.” He didn't stop touching her, sliding his finger through her folds. She trembled harder, maybe because her pleasure was so close or maybe because she didn't like what he was saying to her. “Tell me about the sheriff. Did you sleep with him for the money, for the protection, or because you wanted to?”
Lucy slapped him but insisted, “I need you.”
“Why do you think that is?” He pushed his finger deeper. “You find pleasure with other men, but you need me?”
She was panting, her hips rocking.
“Tell me this is mine.” He pushed into her, hard and deep, with his finger. “Tell me you belong to me.”
She ground into his touch, gasping, keening, “I'm yours,” as her orgasm lifted her into its spiral.
Chapter Ten
She felt his gaze on her as she sat with her back pressed against his chest. Staring into the flames, she didn't dare look into his face. She certainly didn't want to discuss the sheriff or her professional relationship with the sheriff, or anything else that might leave them parting on less-than-savory terms.
I'm yours; I'm yours; I'm yours. God, how many times had she cried out what he wanted to hear? Still nude, she didn't want to move, especially not to go back to town, though she knew sunup was close at hand. They needed to discuss what she was beginning to see as jealousy. What would he do when she started entertaining even more men on a regular basis? Would he want to discuss each and every one? Would he want to know the details? The size of their pricks? Dear Lord.
“That's some serious thinking you're doing.”
Lucy sighed and rolled her eyes up to look at him. She wasn't about to tell him she was just thinking about the size and shape of his penis and how it compared to Thunder's. “I need more women. I've only got the two, and there's more men than the three of us can entertain between us.”
“There were seven before. They might have gone to Hangtown for jobs by now. Or Sacramento. Long gone, though, I'm guessin', 'specially if they helped James fleece those men for some cockamamy scheme he had for bringing the railroad through.”
“Daniel Hatch! You said seven. You knew exactly how many women worked at the hotel.”
He smiled wickedly and winked. “I never said I was an angel.”
She rolled around to face him, pushing him down and holding him there with her hands pressed into his chest. She smiled naughtily, wondering what he would say or do if she asked him to measure the quality of her breasts to those of the other women he'd known. She doubted he'd like it one bit. Emma would have found the humor. “I don't care about that. Can you find them?”
He shook his head. “You don't want them back. They'd never accept you as their madam.”
“Because I'm a Negro woman?”
“Because you aren't Madam Chantal. She was French, a snob, and demanded absolute loyalty. Wherever she is, they are; they won't come back without her, and she won't come back as long as you are running things.”
Daniel cupped her breasts and squeezed. She slapped his hands away. “Don't try to distract me. I need women.”
“I think you should always be naked.”
“Daniel!”
Pinching and rolling her nipples, he amended. “When you a
re here, I want you naked.”
Lucy was offended he would suggest such a thing. “Your men come and go; I hardly think it would be appropriate to be always naked.”
Daniel chuckled. “I assure you they won't mind the sight of a naked woman.”
Lucy started to sit up, but Daniel grabbed her wrists and held her tight against his chest. “Would you share me with your men as well?”
“You're a whore now, Lucy. What would it matter if I did?”
Lucy jerked her wrists, angry. “A whore by choice, not by force. Even if I hadn't bought the hotel, you would have had me here and naked for your men to use anyway.”
“Is that what you believe?”
“It's the truth.”
He released her wrists. “No. It isn't. I would not have treated you so poorly.”
Lucy crossed her arms over her breasts and ground her teeth, angry at herself for wanting to believe there could have ever been more to their relationship.
Daniel pulled her hips forward to straddle him and thrust deep. “What I need is for you to stop talking and ride me.”
Lucy closed her eyes as his thrusts took the edge off her anger and disappointment. His solid length prodded parts of her she had no idea could feel so wondrous—a heightening bliss falling somewhere between pleasure and pain as he pushed deeper. She pushed against him, taking him even deeper, feeling as if he might split her in two, and realizing that might not be such a bad thing. “Oh God, Daniel. Oh God.”
Taking hold of her hips, he pulled her forward and back as he thrust. Spiraling up, winding as tight in her insides as a wound, spinning top. It felt as if her heart and her pussy were somehow fused as emotion spilled through her veins. He might never love her as she loved him, but she had to admit she did. On the edge of release, she cried out, wanting to ride the vortex she knew was on the other side of the bliss yet tangled in need and heartache.
“I will never share you with my men. When you are here, you are mine—solely and completely mine.”
He thrust harder, as if he was trying to pound the truth into her, and she believed him. A surge of pleasure tore through her, ripping a scream from her throat, and still Daniel held hard to her hips, pulling her forward and back, but more gently, letting her float down to a place where her thoughts could return and the swelling ache in her chest could dissipate. Catching the intensity of his gaze, she ducked her head, embarrassed, and tried to lay herself against his chest to hide her face in his neck, but he wouldn't have it, pushing her back up.
“I like having you ride me.”
Lucy smiled. “I think I like being on top.”
With his hands tight on her waist, he drew her hips in a circle, and the sensation in her insides made her gasp. She would never have believed the pleasure could be greater than what she'd already experienced, but it was.
“You should do this for the men who pay you.”
She stopped moving on top of him, frozen with shock.
“Why would you say that?” Her heart was pounding so fast, it was dizzying. She looked down into his face for mockery but found none. Hurt, she scolded. “You have no right to…”
Daniel narrowed his eyes, making it harder for Lucy to read his expression, but she understood the meaning of his actions when he grabbed her pussy and stated forcefully, “You are mine, and because you are mine, I choose to instruct you on how to be most pleasing to a man. Especially to the men who pay you. Sooner or later, folks will know you are mine, and I don't want them thinking my lover is any less than the best goddamn fuck this side of the Rockies. Do you understand?”
Lucy blushed, looking away, feeling owned. She closed her eyes and reminded herself she wasn't a slave, she wasn't a wife, but she couldn't deny she was Daniel's, and she wanted to be his.
“Ride me.”
Wanting to please him, she rocked her hips back and forth. Daniel lifted his hips, sinking deeper, making her gasp. Holding her waist with his hands, he guided her hips in circles, and Lucy thought she might expire from the intensity of the pleasure.
“Feels good?”
“Yes.” Her gaze met his. “Very.”
He grinned devilishly. “It feels just as good for the man. Most women won't ride on top; they'd be mortified. A woman who actually knows what she's doing on top is worth her weight in gold, and if you are going to have sex for money, why not have sex for a lot of money? Become known across the territory as the best. Train your girls to be the best, so they can make you a lot of money too.”
Catching on to the theme, Lucy liked the idea of making a lot of money, because money and power went hand in hand. Having money of her own would mean she would never have to be a slave ever again. Pressing hard into him and circling her hips, she proved she could be a very fast learner by pushing Daniel over the edge of the abyss.
* * *
The sun rose above the horizon as she mounted Thunder's brown and white pinto, a band of bright orange dividing the charcoal and lavender tones above and below. She'd meant to behave with a modicum of decorum since the situation was already awkward, at least in her mind, with Thunder mounted behind her and Daniel standing beside her. Daniel stroked her calf, and it was his touch that lured her forward, bending and stretching to kiss him a final time, not even a respectable kiss, but a completely luscious tangle of lips and teeth and tongue that left her wanting.
Thankfully Thunder was silent for the ride back to town, though he slid his arm around her waist and pulled her hips back against him tightly. Having the man pressed so intimately close muddled her mind. She liked the feel of him. She liked the feel of Daniel. It seemed…wicked…wanting both of them, especially since she could admit she wanted Daniel most, but would take Thunder deep inside her while they rode if only he offered.
She closed her eyes and thought the rhythm of the horse combined with the press of the man made her feel like she had a throbbing beehive caught between her legs.
Of course, he didn't ask and town appeared in the mist much too soon.
He helped her dismount and held her hand for an inappropriately long moment. He caught and held her gaze for a moment longer than that. She felt as if she'd forgotten how to breathe before he finally tipped his hat. “Good day, Miss Lucy.”
“Good day, Sheriff.”
She stood on the boardwalk, watching him lead the horse toward the jail and wishing he'd join her inside. “Emma, oh Emma. What has become of me since you left? Are you watching me from heaven? Are you so ashamed?”
Lucy smiled, forcing back tears. “Or do you wish you were here with me, sharing in my fun?”
She knew in her heart that if Emma had lived, nothing would be as it was now. They would have traveled on to Sacramento. In time, Emma would have married someone of suitable breeding and Lucy… Well, perhaps someday there might have been a man for her…if only a quick squeeze in the barn with Emma's new husband.
Inhaling deeply, she looked up into the sky. The sun was softened by rising mist, making it seemed haloed. It wasn't so hard to believe that heaven was above the clouds.
“I'm sorry you died, Emma. I miss you. I'm not sorry I'm here. I'm not sorry I've become a whore. And I'm really not sorry I'm finding myself falling in love with two men. So if you happen to talk to Mama or God, pray don't judge me too harshly. I'm finding my place here in California.”
Swishing her skirts, she went inside. Georgie and Clancy were both hard at work, polishing every wood surface with beeswax. The carved bar gleamed, and it seemed they were intent on every bit of wood looking just as good. Seeing her, both men greeted her.
“Miss Lucy.”
“Good morning, Miss Lucy.”
She smiled and strode toward the potbelly stove and simmering coffeepot. “Morning, boys. All quiet last night?”
“Quiet enough. A few fights. No one dead,” Georgie reported.
She poured coffee into a cup. “I need more women; maybe the men wouldn't be so bent on fighting if they were more focused on their cocks.”
She sipped her coffee. “We do have the sheriff.”
“Sheriff departed early last night, leaving us lacking.” Georgie commented. “Big trouble would take more than a single man.”
She sat her cup down on the bar while regretting having Thunder stay at the ranch but reminded herself it wasn't her fault, because she hadn't even wanted him to stay, he'd insisted. But in denying accountability, she didn't feel any better. “Are you expecting big trouble?”
“Maybe.”
Excusing herself, Lucy went to her room to nap, but her conversation with Georgie and Clancy left her troubled, and she spent most of the morning tossing and turning. Trouble could come from so many directions, and the more she thought on it, the more worried she became.
Lucy jerked, startled, and realized raised voices downstairs must have woken her. She hadn't even realized she'd been sleeping. She'd been sitting in a soft chair, looking through the window at a squirrel playing in the high branches of a pine. She held an unopened book in her lap, giving up on sleep.
Rubbing her eyes, she mused about how little sleep she'd had the night before and the reasons for it but her mind wouldn't stop circling thoughts again and again. Stretching, she realized just how tender riding a man had left her, and she wondered if Daniel was affected similarly.
If so, he would have to think about her on occasion, just as she was now thinking about him.
The voices below grew louder and angrier, spurring her to investigate, and although she hurried down the stairs, by the time she made it to the saloon, all was quiet again. Seeing Thunder sitting in a shadowy corner, she attributed the quiet to his arrival.
