by Deb Stover
"Butt man?" He stroked her upper arms, sending rivulets of desire trickling through her. "What's a butt man?"
"Uh, a man who likes a woman's butt best." She released the buttons at the front of his shirt and eased her hands against the magnificent muscles of his chest. "God, Cole, I want you so much I'm going crazy."
"I went crazy that first day," he breathed, shrugging out of his suspenders and shirt.
Remembering how he'd looked when she'd caught him naked at the waterfall, Jackie held her breath and opened his belt buckle, frantically working on the fly of his jeans. "You didn't answer me." She eased his jeans down over his slim hips, gently releasing his impressive erection. Her insides turned molten in anticipation. Heat radiated from his magnificent anatomy, spanning the distance between them.
"Answer...what?" he croaked, kicking off his boots and stepping out of his jeans.
"Are you a butt man?" she repeated, barely able to breathe, let alone speak coherently. "Speaking of butts..." Breathlessly, she kneaded the flesh of his bare buttocks, itching to bring her hands forward, to wrap them around his rock hard length.
He cradled her breasts in his hands, brushing his callused thumbs against their rigid peaks. "Your butt is wonderful, ma'am," he whispered thickly, "but these beauties drive me loco."
"All of you drives me loco." She bit her lower lip and allowed her hands to follow her burning desire slowly around his hips. Pausing just shy of her goal, she massaged his groin with her thumbs, her hands trembling.
"Lord, woman." He dipped his head and took her nipple into his mouth, grazing it with his teeth.
Fire kindled inside her, a liquid inferno created deep within her, sizzling until she wanted to scream. Dying with need, Jackie eased both hands around his throbbing erection, stunned all over again by the size of him. "Have mercy." Great-Aunt Pearl would have fainted to hear her most frequently-used phrase voiced in this situation. But it fit. Oh, yes. Jackie couldn't wait to discover just how well he fit. Clarke, you're becoming a dirty old woman. Glancing down at her hands wrapped around him in the moonlight, she sucked in a sharp breath.
"Now?" she asked, stroking the length of him.
A guttural growl erupted from deep in his chest and he swooped her into his arms, placing her on the waiting shawl. Hovering over her, he devoured her with his eyes, then lowered himself slowly to cover her nakedness with his own.
"Beauty, meet the Beast," he whispered.
* * *
Cole gazed down at her, feasting on the beauty spread out before him like a rare and precious gift. Once more, he saw her nipples draw tight, reminding him she shared his eagerness.
From the moment he'd pulled her from the street that day back in Devil's Gulch, he had wanted her. Craved her. Hungered for her.
Her and only her.
This time, he was the one who trembled, overcome by the power of his desire for this strange woman with hair so red it rivaled the brightest cardinal. Like Adam must have when he'd tasted the forbidden fruit, Cole smiled.
"What's so funny?"
"I'm not laughing." He wanted to touch, to taste, to savor every perfect moment of this night. He lowered his head and sampled one honeyed nipple, his lips gliding across it, followed by his tongue.
Her moan washed over him, compounding his own need. He wanted to thrust himself into her, take her hot and fast and fierce. But this was too perfect to rush, too wanted to waste.
He hungered to watch her need blossom into womanly ecstasy while he was buried deep inside her. The only thing that could make this more perfect would be if the sun were shining and they were outside where he could see every detail, every expression, every curve and hollow of her slender body.
She buried her fingers in his hair as he teased and nibbled. "Sweet," he whispered, drawing her nipple deeply into his mouth while he brushed the other peak with his thumb.
Another soft moan came from her lips and she gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into his bare flesh. "Now, Cole," she whispered, panting. "I can't...wait."
Her words sent blistering, bright bursts of hunger through his veins. He kissed her other breast, teasing her with the tip of his tongue, drawing and sucking until her breathing came shallow and quick and she squirmed beneath him.
He stroked one hand along her flat belly, resting at the curling hair between her thighs. She was hot, as he'd known she would be, and for a moment he reminded himself that she most certainly wasn't a virgin. That knowledge didn't sadden him, though. In fact, her experience and boldness were part of what he loved most about her.
Loved?
He froze for a moment, lingering over her, lifting his face to gaze down into her eyes. If he could have seen her expression clearly, would he find love in her eyes? Or merely desire?
Don't think, Morrison.
She pressed her mound against the heel of his hand and moaned again–a sound he echoed from deep in his own throat. Now wasn't the time for thinking. Only action would do.
He found her womanly folds and paused again. She was hot and wet and ready. Holding his breath, he parted her with thick, trembling fingers, groaning aloud at her response. She gasped and tilted her hips, granting him entrance. The womanly scent of her wafted up to him, spicy and sweet.
"Oh, Lord," he murmured, feeling her feminine core tighten around his probing fingers. "I don't think I can... wait."
"Don't wait." She urged him back up the length of her, capturing his engorged body in her hands. "Have mercy." Brushing her thumb over his throbbing tip, she slid her other hand down his full length. "I want you. Every...blessed... inch."
That did it.
Cole allowed her to guide him against her womanhood, positioning his throbbing tip. He closed his eyes, drawing deep breaths to regain control of his spiraling need. He wanted this to last a good long while, but he was so aroused he feared he might explode on contact.
With a trembling sigh, she wrapped her arms and legs around him. He'd never been more aware of himself as a man in the very physical sense as he was at this moment. She empowered him, and that was both thrilling and terrifying.
He was a big man–he'd always known that. She was tall for a woman, but delicate of bone and with just enough flesh in all the right places. Beneath his hulking form, she seemed tiny. Even so, he knew he couldn't hurt her. She was too ready, too willing, too wild with wanting.
A feeling he understood too damned well.
The friction of her body against his set him on fire. Her breasts were delicate and soft compared to the unyielding planes of his chest, her nipples hard and tantalizing against him.
He couldn't wait another moment. Pressing himself steadily inward, he held his breath, savoring every life-threatening inch. She closed around him even as she drew him deeper and deeper into her tight sheath.
"Have mercy," he whispered, repeating her earlier declaration. "Easy, don't move, woman."
"In your dreams...big guy," she breathed, kneading his buttocks and urging him deeper.
She squeezed him tighter, held him as if she would never let him go. God save him if she changed her mind now.
Moaning, she eased her knees higher, locking her heels around his waist. He couldn't hold back any longer and buried himself swift and hard, pausing to gasp as she held him fast with velvet promise. She shuddered beneath him.
"Did I hurt you?" He gazed down at her face, bathed in shadows now as the moon no longer shone through the door. "Are you all right?"
"No, you didn't hurt me." She squeezed him hard and angled her hips more fully against him. "But I'm not all right. Yet."
He chuckled low and deep, then she moved against him again and his laughter died on a groan of exquisite agony. If he didn't move inside her right now, it would soon be too late.
Vowing to take her with him on this shattering journey, he withdrew until only his throbbing tip remained within her, then plunged into her receptive body. Again and again, slowly, he drove into her, feeling her clench and swallow his f
ull length.
She met him thrust for thrust, matching his movements, increasing the depth of their union. He gritted his teeth, praying he could last long enough to show her the pleasure he so desperately wanted to give.
Every muscle in his body trembled as he moved urgently with her. They rose and fell together in perfect rhythm–laboring, battling, mastering. Hot, bright and dazzling. Lightning struck and he lost control, taking her on a frenzied, wild voyage from which he knew neither of them would return unchanged.
Faster, harder, he lunged to the depths of a scorching explosion as she arched upward, contorting around him. He came into her, filled her with his seed and his very essence. Everything he had, everything he was, melded into this moment in time.
Her body convulsed and she cried out her own completion. She clutched his shoulders, rocked with him, and they remained locked together as intimately as a man and woman could possibly be.
He caught a fistful of her hair and kissed her soundly, passionately, tenderly. This had been much, much more than a man relieving himself with an available woman. He couldn't think right now about what had just happened. His mind was foggy, his body drained.
Showering her face with tiny kisses, he shivered as she stroked his sweaty back, massaging his muscles and easing his return to the mortal world. This woman gave and took with an appetite that stunned him and left him shaken.
And confused.
All he knew for certain was that what he'd said earlier was true. He could never get enough of this perplexing woman. Already, he felt his body hardening with desire, still buried deep within her.
"You were..."
She pressed her fingertip to his lips. "Not now," she whispered. "Don't spoil it."
He cupped her face and felt her tears. She tried to turn away, but he held her fast. "Did I hurt you?"
"You were wonderful," she said. "Much too wonderful to be real."
He wondered about the hint of sadness in her voice. A hot flush crept over his face as he remembered his powerful explosion. It had been such a long time since...
There could be a child. Could that worry be the cause of her tears? He would never let her give birth to his child out of wedlock, and having seen the way she treated Todd, he couldn't imagine his Jackie being sad about the possibility of a child.
Lolita, on the other hand...
Swallowing hard, he raised up on his elbows and gazed down at her shadowy form. Their two hearts slowed, hammering together as one to the cadence of the ancient dance between man and woman.
Dance? He tensed, wondering and remembering Chief Byron's words.
"Woman with hair like fire was doing her tribal mating dance.
"For you."
And it had worked.
Chapter 13
Jackie slept like the dead, exhausted from keeping pace with the greatest lover of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. What a man! She rolled out of bed with every muscle aching, reminding her of all the ways he'd touched her.
A smile curved her lips as she washed and dressed, eager to see him, yet dreading it at the same time. They'd talked very little after that first time, mutually eager to make love again.
And again.
She waved her hand in front of her face as heat crept to her cheeks. For an old-fashioned guy, Cole Morrison was very creative in the hay. Literally.
But now she had to tell him about Goodfellow's offer. Sadness gripped her heart and her stomach lurched. Why had fate thrown her back here to fall in love and have her heart broken? It was too cruel. Too gut-wrenching.
Too damned typical of Jackie Clarke's life.
Dragging in a shaky breath, she climbed down the ladder to find Todd and his father seated at the rough wooden table, eating breakfast. "Good morning," she said quietly.
"Miss Jackie," Todd said, "we're going to Oregon."
Her heart constricted again. "Oregon?" When were they leaving? She poured herself a cup of coffee and sat woodenly at the table, avoiding Cole's gaze. She couldn't look at him right now, knowing they would soon be separated forever.
"Jackie?" Cole asked quietly. "Are you...feeling all right?"
She blinked and shot him a sidelong glance. "Of course. When are you going to Oregon?" So Cole had decided that dream was going to happen, after all. Good for him. Not so good for her.
"That depends...on a lot of things," Cole said, his tone sober.
She felt his gaze on her, but she couldn't look at him just now. Did he pity her? The fallen woman who'd been fun for a night, and who'd soon be out of his life for good?
Oh, cut it–
A soft knock at the door made her jerk, sloshing hot coffee over the rim of her cup and across the back of her hand. She dried it on her skirt, then blew on the reddened skin while Cole answered the door. Don't let it be Smith or Goodfellow or Merriweather. Should she hide? Her heart vaulted into her throat and she gripped the edge of the table, prepared to make a dash for the loft.
"Chief Byron, come on in," Cole said as he swung open the door. "There's some mush on the fire."
The chief shuddered visibly. "Thank you, no."
Todd chuckled and Jackie couldn't suppress her own small grin. The chief was definitely a welcome visitor just now, distracting her from her dismal thoughts. Later, she would find Cole alone and tell him all she had to tell.
And destroy everything once and for all.
He had a right to the truth, and she had to make sure he took Todd to Oregon. Her dreams were dead, but there was still hope for his. Closing her eyes, she drew a deep breath and took a sip of Cole's bitter coffee. A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. She'd be all right. She was tough. Strong.
Right.
"An eagle told me it is a good day for fish." The chief's dark eyes twinkled. "I thought Son of Pale Eyes might like to catch fish."
"Can I, Pa?" Todd leapt to his feet, his enthusiasm unmistakable.
"I could be mistaken, but I'd say that's a boy who definitely wants to go fishing," Cole said, chuckling. "Where were you planning to go?"
"Near beaver dam, down the pass." The chief nodded. "Good fishing there."
Cole rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "That'll take most of the day."
"Please, Pa?" Todd tugged on his father's sleeve.
Cole chuckled again and tousled his son's hair. "Sure, but take a dinner pail for you both."
"We will eat fish," Chief Byron insisted, straightening.
Cole winked at his son. "Probably, but take something along just in case."
Jackie's mind worked overtime. She would be alone with Cole all day. Alone. She could spend more time in his arms before shattering any feelings he might have for her. Okay, so maybe it was selfish of her to want to make love with him again before telling him the truth, but she felt like being selfish. Dammit.
"And be back well before dark," Cole said as his son threw together a noon meal for two.
"Thanks, Pa."
"Don't forget your fishing pole, Huck."
"Pole." Chief Byron snorted. "I will use only hands and spear, and we will see who catches more fish."
Todd's little-boy giggle warmed Jackie, but it was a bittersweet warmth. Soon, both Todd and his handsome father would be out of her life.
The boy raced out the door ahead of his elderly companion, who lingered and looked back over his shoulder, his dark eyes glittering with mischief. "Pale Eyes will not go to the mine today." With a knowing smile and a nod, the chief followed Todd.
And left Jackie alone with Cole.
The morning after was always awkward, she reminded herself and took a sip of coffee. She watched the play of rippling muscles through Cole's shirt as he cleared the table.
"You want some mush?" he asked, holding the black iron pot by its handle.
"Get serious." Jackie made a face and he laughed. That eased the tension between them and she flashed him her biggest smile.
He set the mush aside and stood staring at her. "You should do that more often," he said,
his voice warm and vibrant.
She shivered as the rich timbre washed over her. "Do what?" She rose and walked toward him.
"Smile."
She slid her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek against his shoulder. "Good morning," she said in a husky whisper.
"I think you already said that." He wrapped his arms around her waist, though she sensed some fleeting–thank goodness–reluctance.
She gazed up at him, then stood on tiptoes and kissed him very softly. He responded and she relaxed in his embrace. "It bears repeating." She held his gaze with hers, carefully studying his reactions. "Cole, let's have a picnic."
His dark brows arched in surprise. "Today?"
"Sure, why not?"
"I really should go to the mine."
"Why?" She kissed his chin, his jaw, the lobe of his ear.
He sucked in a sharp breath. "Mine? What mine?"
Capturing her chin in his hand, he claimed her mouth in a breathtaking kiss that left her dizzy with desire. She wanted him every bit as much now as she had yesterday.
As their lips parted, she sighed. "A picnic, Pale Eyes."
He chuckled and lifted her off her feet, spinning her around the room. "You're turning me into an outright lazybones, woman."
"Nothing lazy about you, big guy." She rubbed herself against him in what she hoped was invitation–or maybe a command performance. She should have watched more Mae West movies.
"You're makin' me crazy again."
"Good." She rubbed the heel of her hand along the hard ridge at his fly. "Is that a pistol in your pocket, big guy, or are you just happy to see me?" He turned crimson and she laughed.
"I'm very happy to see you." He kissed her again.
Sighing as their lips parted, she asked, "How far is the waterfall from this beaver dam the chief mentioned?" She licked her lips and watched Cole's eyes widen and his nostrils flare.
"Far enough." His deep voice rumbled through her and zeroed in on her hormones. "Are you really going to make me wait that long?"
"Wait for what?" She pursed her lips and tried to pull an innocent look, but she'd never felt less innocent in her life. She bit her lower lip.
