by Connie Mason
Rod felt the magic of her enfold and enclose him with her warm flesh, heard her shrill wail of release and allowed his own passion free reign. He rode the crest of his own desire; his cries of pleasure mingled with hers and filled the firelit room.
They lay side by side for some time, her head cradled on his chest, his heartbeat hammering loudly in her ear as Rod ran a hand caressingly along her spine bedewed with perspiration. Julie was so at peace that she felt herself floating in a state of euphoria, until Rod’s mocking laughter quickly shot her back to earth. “Well, querida, do you still prefer your lover to me?”
“Yes, you devil, yes!” she shouted unthinkingly. “At least he doesn’t attempt to draw the soul from my body. When you are finished with me I have nothing left. I am drained, my will destroyed.”
Her hastily flung words brought an immediate chill to Rod’s humor. He did not want to hear about Brett Casey. “Get dressed,” he ordered curtly. “We’re leaving.”
“Like hell! Julie argued. “I’m staying here.”
“You are coming back to Rancho Delgado with me.”
“Over my dead body!”
“That can be arranged, querida.” He was regarding her now with eyes that were cool and amused, dark orbs that seemed to peer right through her, while his lips twitched in a crooked grin. Though his words were spoken with calm deliberation, his implied threat was explicit.
“Rod,” Julie hedged, her voice softening. “Allow me to remain at least until my father returns. After that we’ll discuss it further.”
“Do you think me loco, querida? Your father could well have met with an accident and never return. You are my responsibility.”
“Rod, please,” pleaded Julie. “How could you be so heartless?”
“Heartless! Is that what you call a man who wants his wife with him despite the fact that she has warmed another man’s bed?”
Rod still wanted Julie, despite everything, but he wanted her to come to him of her own free will. Just thinking about life without her created an aching emptiness deep within him, for which there was no solace. Only his fierce pride prevented him from admitting how much he had missed her, how badly he needed her. He would not be foolish enough to voice his love until he was sure Julie returned those same emotions. And at the moment it appeared that Brett Casey held her heart.
“I … I can’t go with you, Rod,” Julie reiterated. “Not just yet, anyway. I can’t leave Brett in a lurch. He depends on me. I owe him that much for all he’s done for me.”
“I would say he’s been well paid,” Rod alluded dryly, raking her naked body insultingly.
Julie flushed angrily. “Rod, Brett and I, we’re not … we haven’t …”
“Don’t, Julie, lying doesn’t become you. But I’ll make you a deal. I’ll allow you to remain a while longer in the unlikely event your father should show up. In return I expect you to withhold your delectable body from your lover.” Julie nodded vigorously. It was a promise she would have no problem keeping. “Wait, I’m not finished,” added Rod dryly. Julie waited patiently, eyes questioning. “To keep you from becoming too lonely, passionate bitch that you are, I will continue to visit you here in your room from time to time … whenever the need … arises.” He laughed heartily at his play on words.
“Bastard!” Julie muttered darkly. “I should have known you’d demand your pound of flesh.”
“You’re wrong, querida, a pound would hardly do. I want it all. Every delectable ounce of you belongs to me. Haven’t I just proved as much?”
“You proved that you are adept at lovemaking. I always knew that.”
Rod’s eyes blazed with annoyance and he slanted Julie a penetrating glance. “Be careful, querida, you go too far.” Julie’s lips clamped tightly together but her murderous glare spoke volumes.
Later, after Rod let himself quietly out of the room, Julie gave vent to her anguish. It was true she was still Rod’s wife and he could very well force her to return with him whenever he decreed, but did he have to humiliate her, treat her like a possession. Worse yet was the knowledge that he would continue to treat her in a callous manner as long as she refused to return with him to Rancho Delgado.
But what kind of life would she have with Rod, Julie asked herself glumly? He hadn’t said much about Elena except that she was no longer at the rancho. Would she come back one day to wreak havoc with their lives?
If only Rod loved her, Julie sighed unhappily, she could almost forgive him anything. If only he would tell her he cared for her a little. Did he feel any other emotion for her but lust? It was obvious to Julie that she was nothing but a possession and Rod did not relinquish his possessions lightly. Even if he did not want her, he would never allow another man to have her. Yet, Julie was strangely aware that no matter how often she screamed out her hate for her virile husband, no matter how much humiliation she suffered at his hands, she loved him.
18
During the following week Rod studiously avoided Julie’s room. Though he sat nearly every night at his usual table in Casey’s Pleasure Palace, remaining coldly contemptuous until Casey escorted Julie to her room and returned to the blackjack table, he made no move to speak to her. Instead he whiled way the hours drinking with Rita who fawned over him until Julie grew livid with rage. Rod seemed perfectly content to sit and sip whisky all evening while the Mexican spitfire literally seduced him before Julie’s eyes.
Julie could not help but wonder if Rod was partaking of Rita’s ample charms after she retired to her room late at night. Somehow the thought of Rod making love to Rita strangely unsettled her. More than likely that’s exactly what was happening, Julie surmised, else Rod would have come to her before now, lusty pig that he is, she thought disparagingly. Her first emotion was one of relief. At least he would not demand she satisfy him if another woman was taking her place in his bed. Inexplicably, the next emotion to strike her was much stronger. Could it be jealousy? Pure, green-eyed, jealousy. Though she strongly berated herself for feeling such conflicting emotions, there was no help for it.
Brett Casey, ever alert where Julie was concerned, noticed Julie’s distraction during that long week. At first he laid it to her father’s continued absence, but quickly disabused himself of that notion when he caught her eyes drifting time after time toward the handsome Spanish don who Rita considered her private property. What was Don Rodrigo Delgado to Julie, he wondered? Jealousy consumed him like a blazing brush fire. Though Julie had never given him a shred of encouragement, Brett harbored the thought that one day she would be his.
That night Brett decided the time was ripe to press his suit in a more forceful manner, do something more than stand by and wait for Julie to come to him of her own accord. Brett was determined that tonight was the night Julie would become his mistress in more than name only. He wasn’t about to stand idly by while another man happened along and swept her off her feet. Julie belonged to him, the gambler firmly avowed, and to no one else. Immediately he began making preparations for an evening he hoped would set a precedent.
Rod lounged loose limbed at his usual table, sipping his usual glass of whisky, when Rita sidled up behind him, winding her slim arms about his neck. Her soft breasts pressed sensuously against his back as she leaned her slight weight against his muscular shoulders. Noting Julie’s eyes upon him, Rod thought the opportunity too great to resist as he turned, grasped a squeeling Rita by the waist and flung her around into his lap. One hand cupped an unfettered breast intimately while his mouth plundered hers. He had tried everything short of telling Julie how much he really needed her to bring her to her senses, so why not try jealousy? He smiled deviously.
Julie was shocked as well as disgusted by Rod’s amorous overtures toward Rita. Therefore, given her frame of mind, she was not adverse when Brett casually suggested she take a break and join him for a late supper. When she smiled her compliance, he ordered something special to be set up in her room, a sort of celebration to mark the months they had been together.
“I’ve arranged with Zack to take over for the entire evening,” Brett informed her smoothly. “Of late you appear tired and out of sorts. You need and deserve a break.” Zack was a combination bouncer and part-time jack-of-all trades whom Brett had recently hired.
Julie was prepared to do anything to keep from watching while Rod made a fool of himself with Rita. Not that she cared what he did, she tried to convince herself. “I suppose you’re right, Brett,” Julie agreed hesitantly. “A night off might be just what I need.”
“Come along then, sweetheart,” he drawled lazily as he slipped an arm about her slim waist. His grin was infectuous as Julie’s answering smile lit up her beautiful features. Together they started up the stairs. Even with her back towards him Julie could still feel the intense scrutiny of Rod’s dark, accusing eyes.
The moment Julie disappeared into her room with Casey, Rod rudely shoved Rita to the floor, snarling at her to leave him in peace. Picking herself off the floor with as much dignity as she could muster, Rita flounced off in search of more likely prey, spitting abuse at the arrogant Spaniard who ran alternately hot and cold.
When an hour passed and Casey did not reappear, Rod was on the verge of bursting into his wife’s room and bodily dragging her from the arms of her lover. Instead he began drinking heavily, emptying one bottle and then calling for another. Rage twisted his handsome features and his gut roiled painfully as he thought of Julie responding to another man in the same maddening way she did to him. She was a wanton bitch, he decided spitefully, who couldn’t go one week without falling into bed with a man.
A second hour passed and then a third, and Casey was still secluded intimately with Julie. Did he intend to spend the night, Rod wondered? His mind was reeling drunkenly.
Julie was thoroughly enjoying herself. Brett had gone out of his way to have a special feast prepared, along with the appropriate wine, and they lingered leisurely over the elegant repast. He regaled her with amusing stories until her sides hurt from laughing. Brett was at his best, witty and charming, attentive and thoroughly beguiling. Even Rod and their impossible impasse were thrust to the back of her mind as she began to relax in the seductive atmosphere, just as Brett had planned.
The wine flowed freely and soon Julie felt herself overcome by a strange lassitude, unaccustomed as she was to strong drink. Her limbs felt heavy, her body drifting on a cloud of euphoria. Sensing her mood, Brett took full advantage of her languorous state and proceeded accordingly.
Grasping her hands, Brett led Julie to a chinz loveseat and settled down beside her, pulling her limp body into the curve of his own muscular form. “Are you comfortable, sweetheart?” he asked, rubbing his chin against her sweetly scented hair.
“Ummm,” murmured Julie sleepily. It did feel good nestled protectively against Brett, not having to spar verbally as she would with Rod. With Rod she could never relax, she was ever afraid to let her guard down lest she give away her true feelings in one of her weaker moments when her body and mind were being consumed by his passion. With Brett, passion never became a part of their relationship. With Rod she could think of nothing but his hands on her quivering flesh, the taste of his hot, hard mouth, the feel of taut muscles rippling beneath her caressing fingers. In fact, she could almost feel his hands on her breasts now.
Brett moved cautiously as he slowly undid the tiny buttons down Julie’s back. When they were all unfastened, he carefully slid the material down her sloping shoulders, baring two sweet mounds of firm flesh crested by pink-hued buds that rose against his palms like ripe cherries the moment his hands took possession. Without volition, a low moan rose in Julie’s throat, lending Brett courage.
His mouth could not resist the urge to take those suddenly erect nipples between his lips, nipping and sucking gently. “I’ve dreamed of this for so long, sweetheart,” Brett murmured between nibbles. “Stand up and let me undress you. I can’t wait to bury myself deep in your sweet flesh. I swear you’ll not regret this, Brandy. I love you.”
Suddenly something inside Julie snapped and she sobered almost immediately to find herself being thoroughly seduced by Brett Casey. My God, she shuddered! Should Rod find her like this, he would kill her! He was probably aware, to the very minute, of how long Brett had been in her room. There was no doubt in Julie’s mind that she could not allow Brett to make love to her. The only man she truly wanted to possess her was her own husband.
“No, Brett, don’t,” Julie resisted, surprising him by pushing him aside with renewed vigor. “I don’t want this.”
“I know better, sweetheart,” grinned Brett smugly. “Do you think me inexperienced in the ways of women? Look at your breasts,” he directed, touching a long finger to a ruby hued nipple. When it sprang into instant erectness, he chuckled knowingly. “Your body tells me differently.”
Julie flushed, becoming angry. “A woman can’t always control her body,” she informed him coldly. “Especially when a man is adept in the art of arousal.” Not only was she thinking of Brett, but of Rod who played her like a finely tuned instrument, using her body in such a way that her responses were never lukewarm but intense to the point of pain.
Brett was torn. Lord knows he wanted Julie, more than he ever wanted another woman. But beyond that he loved her. He would never intentionally do anything to betray that trust she held for him. He knew he could never force her, even though his yearning for her drove him to the point of no return.
“Brandy,” he muttered, the anguish evident on his handsome features, “I hoped tonight would be special, that it would be a new beginning for us. But I can see you are not in a receptive mood. I won’t force you, sweetheart. You mean too much to me. But neither will I give you up so easily.”
“Brett, I’m sorry,” Julie whispered in a small voice. “It’s not meant to be between us. Please leave now, I’d like to go to bed.”
Brett’s green eyes turned sad, his smile melancholy, but he managed to kiss her forehead chastely before he turned to leave.
“Don’t ever stop being my friend, Brett,” Julie begged, suddenly moved to tears. “Someday I might need you.”
“Never, sweetheart,” Brett promised. “I’ll always be here for you.” Then he was gone, leaving Julie feeling strangely bereft.
Though Julie had sobered considerably, she was still slightly tipsy as she finished undressing, slipping nude between the sheets, too tired to don a gown. Below stairs Rod was in even worse condition. His hands were no longer steady as he lifted the bottle and attempted to pour another drink. But the container was empty. Muttering an oath he tossed it aside and started to rise somewhat unsteadily to his feet when he spied Casey making his way slowly down the stairs. The gambler’s face held a peculiar expression that Rod could not decipher. He certainly did not look like a man who had just spent the last three hours making love to a desirable woman, Rod thought grimly.
Regaining his seat, Rod waited, albeit impatiently, until the dancing girls appeared on stage, capturing the attention of the entire room. Then, as he had previously, he used the confusion and noise to sneak upstairs. Not once did he consider that Julie might lock the door against him as the knob turned noiselessly beneath his gentle pressure.
In the darkened room Rod saw that Julie was sleeping soundly. Cursing the shadows that dimmed his sight, Rod carefully picked his way to the nightstand, hoping his memory served him well as to its placement, and lit the lamp he found there. Immediately the room took on a dim glow and Rod’s glazed eyes fell to the bed where Julie lay entangled in the sheets, one hip and shapely leg completely exposed. Long strands of amber hair, streaked bronze by the lamplight, covered her face and one creamy shoulder. Exhausted by Casey’s lovemaking, Rod thought bitterly as he hastily began throwing off his clothes, cursing roundly when the buttons on his shirt unaccountably became too difficult to manage. Not even the sound of ripping material awoke Julie.
Peering squint-eyed into the shadows, Rod noticed the remains of a meal congealing on a nearby table
. Probably shared by the lovers, he thought wryly, as he spied an opened bottle of excellent wine and an empty glass beside each plate. Padding barefoot, he rescued the bottle and glasses, set them on the nightstand and poured, managing to spill a good deal in the process. Then he turned his attention to his sleeping wife, carefully peeling back the sheet until nothing stood between them but her long silky locks.
Rod stood there staring at her for what seemed like eons, greedily drinking in the smooth perfection of her young supple body. There wasn’t a blemish anywhere that he could see and with a will of its own, his hand reached out and gently turned her on her back. Julie slept on as Rod’s passion-glazed eyes feasted on fully erect nipples, tautening as if in invitation to a dream lover. Slowly his eyes fell to the honey hued forest shielding the pouting lips of her sex.
Seeing Julie exposed and vulnerable aroused Rod to a peak he had never before attained. Spasms of erotic pleasure snaked upward from his swelling loins until his entire being was a mass of raw nerve endings. When he first started up the stairs he had been angry, angry enough to do bodily harm should he be driven to it. But now, seeing Julie like this, sweet and innocently seductive, clothed in a cloak of glorious nudity, he wanted only to bring her pleasure, more pleasure than she had ever known.
Rod’s eyes fell on the glass of wine he had recently poured as he eased himself beside her. Tentatively he dipped a finger in the ruby liquid and smeared it gently about the nipple of each breast using a circular motion. Then, oh so carefully, his wine bedewed thumbs slightly raised her nipples into his mouth, lapping hungrily at the tender buds.
