by Ivy McAdams
He pressed a hand to her belly, pushing her body back to the ground. Then his fingers slid down her torso to touch the node, sending yet another wave of need through her. She pleaded softly, pushing up against his hand.
His eyes flashed with passion as he lowered his face again. When he spoke, his breath tickled her sensitive flesh. “Tell me you want some more.”
The very suggestion in his voice sent a wave of elation through her. Her body had never felt so alive, so strung tight and ready to snap. So overwhelmed with desire and adoration for another person.
Her need was thick enough to overcome any reservations she had left.
She leaned back into the moss, hips lifting for him again. “Please, Ace. I need you. Your beautiful mouth. Don’t stop.”
Her lips parted as his tongue pushed her nub again, swirling around it and drawing forth a cry from deep within her.
His lips pulled at her flesh, the tip of his tongue moving on her until her hips bucked. Fire rushed between her legs and shot through her body as release wracked her. Her body bowed, pressing against his mouth and hands as stars filled her eyes. She moaned his name, the pleasure darting through her too much for her to grasp.
Before her body was able to settle in the grass again, Ace rocked back a few inches, and she heard the release of his belt. Even as her body lay limp, a new wave of excitement hit her, sending another rush of heat between her legs. The rustling of cloth told her his pants were moving, and her hips lifted as if they had a mind of their own.
He released her legs and leaned over her. His long hard body covered hers, settling in between her thighs, and one of his hands pressed around the base of her throat, pushing her back into the grass. Her breath caught, and her eyes darted to his. He gazed at her, a wicked tilt in his smile, a lifted brow that drove the blood pounding in her ears. His hand didn’t squeeze her, merely flexed into her skin. Holding her in place and sending a thrill through her body.
Then the rigid tip of his erection parted her, and she gasped. Every inch of her folds was on fire and grabbed at him in earnest. A throaty groan passed her lips as he sank in deep. Her hot flesh buzzed around him.
His free hand slid up her body to palm her breast, rubbing his thumb over the taut peak before lowering his head to take the nipple in his teeth. A new tickle of nerves shook her, and her head titled back.
Then he withdrew slowly and slid his full length in again. His fingers flexed into the flesh of her throat as she cried out. He thrust into her with languid strokes until her body buzzed, ready to release again.
He lifted his head to look down at her, his jaw working as he fought for his control. She gazed back, waiting for his face to break, but his brow furrowed.
He slid free of her body as he flipped her, rolling her to her hands and knees.
At first, she was surprised as she craned to look back at him over her shoulder. But he was there, sliding his hands over her naked rear and tucking his fingers around her hips. He pulled her back against him, and the tip of him teased her folds.
She opened her mouth, waiting, anxious.
One of his hands slid up her spine and neck, rousing a shiver from her. Then his fingers closed in her hair, pulling back, straining her neck. A stab of panic hit her. One of her hands lifted to his, but he didn’t let go, just twisted his fingers in tighter.
“Let go for me, Clara,” he whispered.
Then he teased open her legs fully and sank in. She cried out, torn between the intense pleasure and the tug on her scalp. This time he moved faster within her, thrusting until her core burned hot around him again. The pull in her hair tilted her head back to an angle that left her at his mercy, and something about that was just as exciting. His thumb fell free of her hair to stroke the exposed flesh of her throat, and it vibrated against her skin when she moaned. She dropped her hand to the grass and leaned back on her knees to meet his hips.
Fire shot through her, from his body to hers, and the cliff of another release pressed upon her.
His fingers tugged her hair as his other hand held tight to her hip, driving into her with a force that had her groaning. She was completely open to him, free to his whim.
He filled her deeper than he ever had, and it rocked every inch of her. When her molten flesh felt as if it’d sizzle away, his breath hissed out of his teeth.
Heat rushed and erupted within her as her body clenched, and his fingers pulled back on her hair. He dropped the locks to take her hips with both hands, thrusting and shuddering against her. He groaned his release, and she cried out as the coil of pressure exploded within her body.
They rocked together before collapsing in the soft grass. His body covered hers for a moment before he pulled her to him and curled around her side.
He hadn’t been kidding about showing her new ways to pleasure her body. But more than that, she was in much farther with Ace than she wanted to admit. Those looks in his eyes were addicting. The way he touched her skin as if it was the softest, most mesmerizing thing he’d ever felt. The gruff heat in his voice, just for her. The way his control wavered when she touched his body.
Even the thought of it sent butterflies through her stomach again.
He cradled her against his chest, and she was lost in a swimming mix of warmth and tingling nerves. Her eyes fluttered closed, a smile on her lips.
Chapter 14
The late morning sun reached in through an open sliver in the flap in the tent, warming Clara’s face and flashing in the edges of her eyes and consciousness. She frowned, moving the back of her hand over her eyes to block out the intruder. It was much too early to be woken up by the pesky sun.
Her frown deepened as she realized the sun had never woken her up before, and her eyes popped open.
She slept a foot off the ground, staring up at the wide bleached horns of a bison across the tent.
Ace’s tent.
A slow smile spread over her face as the night before rushed back to her. The way his hand cradled hers as they walked back to camp after dark. His strong arms around her when he’d crawled into his bed with her and wrapped her up for the night. She’d been so comfortable and content she hardly knew what to do with herself, but sleep had taken her quickly.
She was still warm and cozy, snuggled under the big bear fur blanket. So much so that she’d slept in by a fair margin. She’d never seen the sun so high from her bed.
With a long stretch through her arms and legs, she rolled back into the middle of the cot. To her surprise, it was empty. She sat up and looked around.
Everything in the tent seemed in order, but Ace was gone.
She rubbed at her arms, even though she’d slept through most of the morning’s chill, and slid her stocking feet over the edge of the bed. Her boots sat nearby, and she pulled them on.
The flap of Ace's tent was closed. Only a pesky section that did not line up correctly near the top let in a small stream of light. It was odd since Ace's tent was rarely closed. Being on the inside of the closed entryway was even stranger.
She reached out to brush a couple fingertips along the back of the leather hide panel, then peeled the flap back. More sunlight stabbed her eyes, and she squinted. Camp was quiet and mostly empty but for the small group huddled around the central fire.
Eyes popped up when she stuck her head out of the tent, and she froze.
So much for retaining some decency. They’d spotted her right away.
She drew in a long breath, wanting to step back inside the shadow of the tent and hide, but it was too late. They’d seen her, and she’d only make it worse by attempting to deny it.
Instead, she held her chin high and marched out.
The smell of beef and cabbage reached her nose, and she pointed her boots toward the fire. Her stomach rumbled, and she pressed her hand to it.
She’d been too occupied for food the night before, but they’d skipped dinner and not eaten after their visit to the woods. She was starving.
“Good morning,” Bridget
called out as Clara stepped into the circle.
“Good morning,” she stuttered through a rough voice, then cleared her throat.
Mason sat next to Bridget, a plate of beef slaw resting on his knees. Clara tilted her head at him. Before she could ask where he’d been for days, someone else spoke.
“Did you enjoy your stay in Hotel de Van den Berg?” Sadie cooed, a dancing smile on her face.
“What? No―I just―.” Clara fumbled through her words, bewildered.
Mason grinned wide. “You sure look like you enjoyed it. Your face is glowing.”
She pressed her fingers into her cheeks. They were warm, probably pink. Her heart fluttered. The rest of her face grew hot.
Mason laughed while Bridget and Sadie giggled.
“Don’t be all embarrassed,” Bridget said, waving Clara over and motioning toward the seat next to her. “It’s not like you’re married anymore or anything.”
Clara approached tentatively, a boulder of nerves weighing in her stomach. But her friend was right. She wasn’t married anymore. She wasn’t hurting anyone being with Ace.
She stepped into the circle and sat on a hay bale between the two couples. Clay remained head down, concentrating on his food, while the other three grinned at her like idiots.
She wasn’t sure what to say. It wasn’t as if she was going to give them details. Especially on the lusty evening she’d just had. She’d had no idea such things were possible, but she’d thoroughly enjoyed them. Her friends didn’t need to know either.
Mason coughed into his hand dramatically, bouncing his eyebrows at her. “So you nailed the big guy.”
The statement caught her off guard, and her cheeks burned hotter. But she wasn’t going to let him best her. “How do you know how big he is?”
Mason’s eyes widened, and Bridget fell into a fit of giggles next to him.
Clay looked up with a crooked grin. "Damn. What you peeking at?" he mumbled through a mouthful of food, words laced with dark amusement.
“I ain’t peeking at anyone,” Mason choked, turning a lifted brow on Clara. “I meant big as in the boss. But I’m going to assume you know things I don’t.”
A sly smile spread over her lips as one of her eyebrows twitched up to meet his. “Assume away.”
Mason’s cheeks reddened, and Clara fought back a snort of laughter. Her embarrassment was subsiding, and it felt so much better.
“It is an interesting thing though,” Clay said as he set his empty plate aside. “I’ve been with Ace for years, and he’s never brought a woman back to his tent.”
Clara blinked, tucking her hands tighter in her lap. She’d never seen Ace with a woman in camp either. She made no assumption he didn’t wander into town to seek companionship as they traveled, but she’d never seen him bring someone back. It made waking up in his bed all the more exhilarating.
“That’s because he never had a girl to love,” Sadie cooed.
Bridget made a similar feminine humming noise.
The heat returned to Clara’s face, and she lifted a hand to wave them off. “That doesn’t necessarily mean anything. I live here too. He can’t really get rid of me.”
“But he could send you back to your own tent,” Bridget pointed out.
Clara didn’t have much of an argument for that. Nor did she want to. It’d been amazing snuggled in close to Ace the night before. Warm, cozy. Wrapped up in his arms, she’d felt as if she was right where she was supposed to be. She hadn’t felt that since leaving her parents.
“You don’t have to indulge us,” Sadie said, reaching over to place a hand on Clara’s. “We’re just glad to see you happy.”
Clara gave a weak smile, turning the words over in her head. She didn’t know what the next day would bring once they rode into town to take over the bank. They’d either fail and probably all go to jail, or they’d succeed and the family would part ways. She didn’t want to think of the future, but for the time being, she really was happy.
Her smile grew, and Sadie smiled back.
“Thank you,” Clara said. “I do feel good this morning.”
“So does Ace,” Mason offered.
Clara tilted her head at him.
“He woke up late too. Not as much as you.” He waved his fork in her direction, and she wrinkled her nose at him. “But later than normal. We were already eating breakfast. We saw the disheveled hair and the big smile. It wasn’t difficult to see he’d gotten a little love.”
Bridget slapped the back of her fingers into Mason’s chest, and he chuckled.
A warmth filled Clara’s chest. She’d certainly gotten a little love as well, and she was beginning to feel it deep within her body. Ace had captivated her fully, and she wanted more of him. Each and every day. Starting with that morning.
“Where did he get off to?” she asked, lifting in her seat to glance around the camp.
“He, er, had an errand to run,” Mason said, rubbing his fingertips along the back of his neck.
Something was off in the crease in his brow and the way his eyes studied the ground instead of looking at her.
She frowned, leaning closer. “Mason, what’s going on?”
His eyes leapt to hers, but they were unfocused. "Nothing. He had some errand, he said. In town, I think."
“In Emerald Falls? Just one day before we hit it?” Clara glowered. “Ace is not that stupid. What’s he doing?”
Bridget's eyes were on the fire, while Sadie and Clay leaned close to one another as if lost in conversation. Clara frowned, leaning over to shove Mason's knee.
“What’s going on?”
“I don’t know.” His eyes were much too wide, and his fingers had tightened on his plate. He was lying, and everyone around her knew it.
“Where have you been?”
“What?” Mason shifted in his seat.
Next to him, Bridget’s red hair fell over her lowered face, but Clara could see the hand she slipped up to cover her mouth. She was surprised. Mason was certainly nervous. Clara pressed her teeth together.
“You’ve been missing for a couple days. Where’d you go?”
Mason set his plate down, then lifted a hand to rub over his mouth and chin. The furrow in his brow was deep as he cleared his throat. He was horrible at stalling.
“I went to check on some things for Ace.”
Clara’s chin lifted an inch. “What kind of things?”
“Oh, come on, Clara. You know Ace always has things going on. I’m not supposed to blab his business.”
The way the words spilled out of him snagged her with a curiosity that made her uncomfortable.
Ace’s business? For Mason to be gone for days, the matter at hand would have to be quite large or far off. Neither of which sounded particularly appealing.
“He has some secret business that you can’t talk about?” she asked.
Mason’s lips pressed together. “Kind of.”
“But everyone else here knows.”
She glanced around again at all the averted eyes. A shot of panic thrummed through her veins.
Mason looked around at them too, for far too long, before Clara lifted a hand close to his face and snapped her fingers.
“Business about a woman?” She hated to ask it, but she couldn’t deny the concern. If he’d run off on an errand to see someone else, she’d feel like a fool. She’d spouted about how much she trusted him. Let him do things to her because she trusted him. If he was lying…
Mason put a hand to his mouth as he grunted out a deep cough. “A little.”
Clara’s eyes widened, but this time, Bridget intervened. She popped Mason in the arm with her fingers again.
“No, not like that,” the woman hissed. Then she turned big blue eyes on Clara. “Mason’s errand didn’t have to do with some other woman.”
Tension eased from Clara’s shoulders, but curiosity still coursed through her. “Then what’s going on?”
Bridget glanced back at Mason for a second before giving C
lara her full focus. “Ace sent Mason to Hollard. For information on you.”
Clara leaned away with wide eyes. Her gaze jumped to Sadie and Clay, who sat looking at her with solemn faces, then back to Bridget.
“He’s checking on me? Does he…” A confusing swirl of emotion smothered her, and she nearly couldn't push the words out. “Does he not trust me?”
Bridget put her hand on Clara’s knee. “Sweetie, I think he’s so far in the other direction.”
Clara frowned, not understanding. Her heart flipped and thumped in her chest.
“He wasn’t trying to dig up dirt on you,” Mason offered. “He wanted every piece of knowledge they had on your husband’s murder. And your disappearance.”
Clara’s throat closed up, and her fingers trembled. Ace wanted information on Lloyd’s murder?
“H-how’s that not digging up dirt?”
Bridget squeezed her knee. "Because he's not trying to turn you in. He wants all the information he can find to prove your innocence."
Clara’s chest contracted. Soon she’d be unable to breathe altogether. “But I’m not innocent. I did kill my husband.”
"In self-defense," Bridget offered.
“You think the courts will care about a woman defending herself?” Clara spat.
Bridget lowered her eyes.
Mason reached around her to rest a hand on Clara’s shoulder. “I did find a lot of information. As soon as Ace heard, he rode for town. In a hurry. I don’t know what he―”
The churning sound of hoofbeats in the grassy field beyond camp reached her ears, and Clara leapt to her feet. Between the tents, she could see a black horse approaching, Ace on its back.
Others around her stood as well, but she paid them no mind as she stepped out of the circle and marched toward the edge of camp.
“Clara, it was in good gesture,” Bridget hissed as she tagged along.
Clara continued without hesitation, her hands clenched at her sides. Questions filled every inch of her. What was Ace doing digging into her past? She’d told him everything he needed to know when he’d first picked her up nearly a year ago. That Lloyd had violently abused her, and she’d put an end to it. Any of the other details were of no matter.
