Mail Order Desire

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Mail Order Desire Page 8

by Alix West


  “I won’t get lonesome. Not with Justine nearby.”

  He shrugged. “Never know. You can sleep with her a few more days, but once we’re officially married, you’ll sleep with me.”

  “All right.” She blushed. “I mean, of course.”

  “You’ll still need to come give me a good-night kiss.”

  “Do I?”

  “That’s right. You ever kissed a man before?”

  She pursed her lips in an effort to keep from smiling. “Once or twice. I was a debutant, after all. I attended cotillion, of course. Lots of boys wanted to court me. Some ran off when I became ill, and the rest ran off when my brothers took my inheritance.”

  “I suppose that’s the sort of thing you could expect from a boy. I’m no boy.”

  “I know that. Anyone could see.”

  “And I’m the world’s best kisser.”

  She blinked. “Excuse me?”

  “I’m the world’s best kisser. If you’ve only been kissed by a boy, then you’re going to need lessons.”

  She tugged her hand from his and folded her hands in front of herself. “Is that so. Lessons?”

  “Exactly.”

  “From you?”

  “Seeing as I’m the only one who will be kissing you from now on, it’ll have to be me.”

  “Nick Travis.” She shook her head. “I’ve run into some arrogant people in my life, but I’ve never heard anything that even comes close to your outlandish claims.”

  “I’m not bragging, Cora. All I’m telling you is what I’ve been told.”

  “I see. Time will tell, I suppose.”

  “Always does.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Cora

  The hour grew late, and when Nick and Cora readied to go to bed, they found Justine asleep in the library. The books lined the shelves neatly. Not a single volume sat on a chair or chesterfield. The girl lay curled up on the chesterfield, looking so small, and so fragile, it tugged at Cora’s heart.

  “She’s like a tiny angel,” Cora said.

  “If tiny angels stole wallets.”

  “Oh hush, Nick. She’s not a thief.”

  “She stole a coin purse today at the Magnolia.”

  “I’m sure it was accidental.”

  “I’m sure it wasn’t. And she’ll be punished, too.”

  Cora’s eyes widened. “You won’t hurt her, will you? Strike her or beat her?”

  He frowned. “Course not. She’s picking up rocks for me tomorrow.”

  She let out a breath of relief. “You frightened me for a moment.”

  “I wouldn’t lay a hand on a child.” His lips curved into a slow smile. “But you… that might be another story.”

  Cora felt the blood drain from her face. His words held an unmistakable threat, but his expression looked sultry as if he contemplated carnal thoughts. “I don’t understand,” she whispered.

  “For sassing me, I might need to spank you.” He rubbed his jaw as he considered the idea. “I might enjoy that a fair bit.”

  Cora swallowed hard and shook her head in disbelief. “Very funny, Mr. Travis. Very funny. I’m sure this is your idea of a fine joke.”

  His smile widened, but he didn’t respond. Justine lay still on the couch, fast asleep, thank goodness. Cora’s mind reeled at Nick’s words and she turned away. He turned down the lamp, picked Justine up and carried her upstairs. He laid her in the bed, wished Cora a good night and left. His abrupt departure came as a surprise, although she wasn’t sure why. The idea to wait had been hers, so she should be pleased.

  She peeked down the hallway and watched him walk to his room. He turned back and grinned at her. His smile was a challenge. She wanted to hurl some insult, but she wanted to kiss him too. A soft kiss to wipe the smirk from his face.

  She tended to Justine, tugging off her shoes and helping the sleepy child into a nightshirt.

  “Thank you, Cora,” Justine said, her lids fluttering.

  “Such a pretty girl.”

  Justine shook her head. “Not like you.”

  Cora stroked the girl’s cropped hair. “I need to talk with Nick. You won’t be afraid, will you?”

  “Of what?”

  “Sleeping alone?”

  Justine tugged the covers over her shoulders. “I’ve always slept alone.” She nestled deeper into the bedding, yawning. “And I’m not afraid of anything.”

  Cora turned down the lamp and undressed, fumbling in the dark for the nightshirt Nick had lent her. Her nightgowns hung on the line and were delicate, gauzy things compared to Nick’s immense nightshirt.

  Tip-toeing to Nick’s room, she was gratified to see the light coming from within. She stopped in the doorway. This was his domain, and as bold as it was to come to him like this, she wouldn’t enter without an invitation. He lay in bed, propped against some pillows, reading.

  He lifted his gaze from the book. “May I help you?”

  She tamped down her smile. His words were casual, but they warred with the tension she saw plainly in his shoulders. He gripped the book so hard his forearms flexed. Her gaze wandered across his bare chest and her mouth went dry. Silently she prayed he didn’t sleep naked.

  “What sort of barbarian sleeps without a nightshirt?”

  “The sort of barbarian who lends his nightshirts to others.”

  “Ah. Yes. Well, thank you for that.”

  “You’re welcome.” He went back to reading his book, ignoring her.

  “I wanted to tell you that you’re wrong.”

  He didn’t lift his gaze. “About what?”

  “About being the world’s best kisser.”

  This got his attention. He closed the book and set it on the bedside table. “Is that so?”

  “It is indeed so.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Because I’ve heard from those who know who the world’s best kisser. None mentioned your name.”

  “Did they say the world’s best kisser was some boy back in Boston? Some brat you’ve kissed?”

  She shook her head. “They said I’m the world’s best kisser.”

  His lips quirked. He settled back, lifted his arms and tucked his hands behind his head. Muscles flared across the span of his chest. A light dusting of dark hair started between his pectorals and tapered to a narrow trail heading down his body.

  Her throat tightened. She swallowed hard.

  “That’s something, Cora, because today when we said our vows you were shaking like a new lamb on a cold morning. If I hadn’t been holding you up, you would have dropped to the floor like a little ragdoll. What you’re telling me is a tall tale.”

  “There’s only one way to find out.”

  He blinked. “Is there?”

  She nodded. Her heart thundered in her chest. She’d never said anything so bold to a man in her life.

  Tossing the covers back, he held her in his dark gaze and got out of bed, a pair of pajama bottoms slung low on his waist. Cora breathed a sigh of relief, grateful he was decent. She willed herself to remain still and not retreat from his advance.

  He pulled her inside his room and shut the door. Her throat tightened as he led her to his bed. She’d come to tease him and even entice him. While she wasn’t ready for the marriage bed, quite yet, she wanted more of his touch and his lips on hers.

  Drawing her around to face him, he spoke. “Put your hands on the bed, and don’t move them.”

  Shock flooded her mind with the cold realization of what he intended. A smile played on his lips. Was it possible that this was a game for him?

  She let out a slow, trembling breath, keeping her gaze on him as she complied. His eyes never left hers, but she could feel him gather the nightshirt and slowly lift the hem. Cool air brushed her thighs. He raised the nightshirt over her bottom and rested his hand on her lower back. With his other hand he caressed the curve of her backside.

  He looked down at her. “Three swats.”

  Before she could reply, he bro
ught his hand down, not hard, but not gentle. A sting spread across her skin. She still wore her pantalettes, but they offered little in the way of protection. His eyes lit with desire and to her shock, her body answered in a way she could never have imagined. Her breasts tightened to hard peaks.

  The next swat sent a cascade of heat through her core. The final swat left her slick with arousal. Her breath hitched. In the wild turmoil of her mind, she tried to imagine what might happen next. He let her gown fall. Nodding towards his bed, he spoke.

  “On the bed.”

  Without waiting, she climbed onto the mattress. Turning to face him, she winced when the rumpled bedding touched her bottom. He prowled across the bed and nudged her back until she lay beneath him.

  “I don’t want to hear anything about you kissing Boston boys.”

  “What’s good for the goose-” But with a quick movement, he stopped her response.

  He snatched her wrists, pulled them over her head, pinning them to the bed, stretching her taut. “All right, Cora. Let’s just see what you call an expert.”

  She’d come to tease him a little, perhaps earn a kiss or a tender word on her wedding night. Instead she’d been spanked, practically forced onto his bed and in the blink of an eye become his captive.

  “You’re a monster,” she whispered. “I’ll scream.”

  “You think Justine’s going to help you?”

  Cora didn’t know what to say to this. She couldn’t imagine drawing the child into the fray.

  “I don’t doubt that she would come and help you. She’s quite a scrapper. But the girl sleeps like a log. If you wake her, you might frighten her.”

  He was right. Justine did sleep deeply. The girl had muttered a few words that evening when Cora had helped her to bed, but she fell into a deep slumber a moment later and would remember nothing in the morning.

  “Let’s see about those kisses, Mrs. Travis. You’d better make them good, or I won’t be happy.”

  What had happened to her husband? Her sweet, gruff and protective Nick. Who was this beast?

  He lowered his lips, soft and gentle at first, brushed hers with a feather-light touch. She closed her eyes. The tension melted from her body. Her world righted itself. Nick had returned to her. His kiss seemed playful and the feel of his lips on her made tendrils of desire unfurl along her skin.

  She shivered, but then he touched the seam of her mouth with the tip of his tongue. A mistake. Surely. A clumsy error. He touched her again. She drew a sharp breath and opened her eyes.

  “Why are you doing that?”

  He frowned and released her wrists. Settling beside her, he propped his head in the palm of his hand. “Is that the best you can do?”

  “Yes, it is. What else do you expect – ah – don’t tell me!”

  “You do need lessons after all. That might be a good kiss to give a boy, but that’s no way to kiss your husband.”

  Even though she read his lips, she knew without a doubt that he said the word ‘boy’ in a mocking tone. It infuriated her, but she also felt a small thrill of victory. Nick Travis was jealous of the boys she’d kissed. She’d kissed two when she attended cotillion. The kisses, little more than hazy memories, occurred three years ago. She searched his eyes and saw the resentment clearly.

  I don’t want to hear anything about you kissing Boston boys…

  She gave a breathless laugh, earning a frown from him.

  He scrubbed a hand down his face, giving her a perplexed look. “I guess I’m going to have to teach you.”

  “I suppose so.” She bit her lip in an attempt to hold back her mirth.

  His frown deepened.

  She schooled her features to appear solemn. “I shall endeavor to be an apt pupil.”

  He drew a heavy sigh. “All right. First off, I can tell you’re not ready for the first lesson.”

  “I’m not?”

  “Hush. You’re not. We’re going to have to work up to the first lesson of a full kiss on the lips.”

  She gave a breathless laugh. “Does this involve more spanking?”

  “It will if you keep interrupting me.”

  She pressed her lips together.

  “Sometimes a kiss on the mouth is too much. Too soon. I’m going to kiss you some other places.”

  She held her breath. Nick could surprise her like no other person she’d ever met. He could turn the tables on her in an instant. Even though he’d just spanked her bottom, she trusted him for the most part. It was that tiny little part with doubt that made her heart squeeze with worry.

  “Shh, Cora. I’ll tell you now, because in a minute you won’t be able to make out my words. First, I’m going to kiss your neck. Then if you don’t wriggle and squirm, I’m going to turn you and kiss your shoulders. If you can tolerate that, I might kiss your back. Then, if you’re a good girl, we’ll see about a real, actual kiss.”

  She nodded. His plan seemed harmless enough. She didn’t see the point of him kissing her shoulders or back. How would she feel his lips through the thick nightshirt? Recalling that she wasn’t to interrupt him, she said nothing. Better to indulge the man and let him think he was getting his way.

  Wrapping his arm around her waist, he tucked her against his side. He smiled and lowered. His body, hewn from hard work, felt like steel. Even before his lips touched her neck, she felt his arousal. He nuzzled her neck, gently at first as if questioning her. She responded by wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

  He growled with what she hoped was approval. The reverberation started in his chest and moved through both of their bodies. For the first time since losing her hearing, she sensed a response from a person. A cry fell from her lips. A sob welled in her chest. He stopped immediately and this time the rumble from his chest was softer. Soothing.

  “I like it, Nick.” She threaded her fingers through his hair and cupped his shoulder with her other hand. “No, I love it.”

  Another hum moved through his massive chest. She closed her eyes. He kissed the length of her neck. Each kiss felt hot yet gentle. When he reached her jaw, he nipped her and began his path back along the tender skin. His beard abraded her neck, making her shiver. Never had she imagined anything like this.

  Nick was right. A kiss from a man was different from a boy’s awkward fumblings.

  His warm breath fanned across her skin. He caressed the curve of her waist. Each stroke came perilously close to her breast. He nudged her to her side, drew the nightshirt up the length of her body and with a quick movement, lifted her and pulled it over her head. Before she could grasp what had happened, he rested his leg over her. His chest pressed on her back, his arousal against her flank. He scattered kisses over her shoulders.

  She wriggled and laughed softly. Recalling that she wasn’t to wriggle, she tried her best to lay still and not respond to his tickling beard. Another approving rumble. The urge to squirm overwhelmed her almost immediately and grew worse as he kissed his way down her back. Goosebumps erupted. Chills ran along her spine.

  His hand moved over her bottom, cupping her and giving her a small squeeze. The sting had faded. She drew a trembling breath. If he touched her between her legs, he would find her slick with arousal. Her face burned with mortification as she imagined him touching her there. The thought filled her with desperate need.

  He shifted over her. The bed dipped, and he coaxed her onto her back. His slow, measured movements were replaced with firmer motions. He lowered, his eyes dark, his expression hungered. He kissed her, not a soft brush of the lips but a hard kiss. He angled his head, gripped her hair to hold her, and stroked her boldly with his tongue.

  Her response was immediate. She not only parted her lips, but clung to him. She’d never imagined a kiss could be so consuming. When he broke the kiss, he kept her locked in his arms.

  “That was a good first lesson.” He smiled down at her with a look that was sweetly mocking.

  She wasn’t certain if she wanted to pull him down for another kiss or chide h
im for teasing her.

  “Stay with me, Cora Travis.”

  She frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Stay in my bed.”

  “In your bed…?”

  He nodded. “Right here. We’ll wait to be man and wife, but I need you here. Justine will be fine.”

  She nodded slowly. He rose from the bed, circled to the lamp and lowered the wick. Darkness filled the room. A stark realization washed over her. She would spend the night with Nick, her husband. She should find her nightshirt and dress decently, but he’d already snared her, preventing her from searching for it. He wrapped her in his arms and pulled her against his chest, tucking her close. She closed her eyes and shivered with pleasure.

  In the darkness she felt vulnerable, but slowly a new sensation won over. His embrace made her feel safe. Sheltered. A soft rumble hummed along her back. He kissed the top of her head, tightening his hold as she released the burden of her worries and drifted to sleep.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Nick

  Justine stood on a crate, arms outstretched, while Charlotte adjusted the hem of the dress. Soft morning light spread across the porch and cast a warm glow across her face. A breeze stirred, ruffling the fabric of her dress. She stared at Nick with a fiery gaze. The look in her eyes told him more than he needed to know. The fitting wasn’t going well.

  Charlotte glanced up at him and gave a weary sigh. Nick took a swallow of his coffee.

  “That’s a mighty nice dress your Aunt Charlotte’s making you, Justine. Hope you thanked her.”

  “Thank you, Aunt Charlotte,” Justine replied without hesitation.

  Nick grinned. She held him in her stony gaze. Justine liked to try and sweet-talk him into a hundred different things a day. After she’d stolen and returned Clarice’s purse, she tried to persuade him to forgo her punishment of picking up rocks in the corrals. It hadn’t worked. She’d spent the last two days not only filling buckets with rocks, but hauling the load to a debris pile behind the barn.

  Each night she’d barely had energy to eat dinner and take a bath. After, she’d fallen into bed, asleep before her head hit the pillow, according to Cora.

  Cora suggested Nick was being too hard on Justine, but he refused to let the girl off easy.

 

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