Devils on Horseback: Zeke, Book 3

by Beth Williamson

  The orgasm began somewhere near his toes and it rose up through his legs, heading towards his balls. She shuddered in his arms and pulled him even closer until he touched her womb. The force of his orgasm roared through him like a prairie fire, consuming him, burning him until he forgot his name.

  He felt her heart slamming against his, their breath coming in gusts like racehorses. The smell of sex, sweat and pleasure mingled around them. Zeke’s knees shook with the force of it all even as she trembled in his arms.

  “Holy hell.”

  Naomi woke slowly, pulling herself from the deepest depths of dreams. She shifted against the rough fabric beneath her, trying to remember where she was. One eye popped open and when she spotted the steel bars, the entire night came back to her in a whoosh.

  Zeke, the arrest, the incredible sex. Every second of it replayed in her mind with startling detail. Had she really been arrested, then tied up by the sheriff? And then experienced the most amazing intimate moments of her life in the blond man’s arms?

  One look at her wrist revealed some slight scratch marks from the rope, but nothing else. He’d brought her to the cot at some point while she slept. Hard to believe she would even be able to fall asleep in the jail considering how much the idea of being held against her will made her crazy. Yet she had, and slept hard too.

  The bright sunlight streamed in through the openings in the wall, which on a good day might be called windows. She spotted Zeke in front of the right window, arms folded across his chest, fully dressed.

  By the set of his muscles stretched taut against the blue chambray shirt, he wasn’t relaxed at all. More than likely the man hadn’t slept at all, which meant he’d watched her as she slept. That bothered her more than anything. Naomi hated feeling helpless, at someone else’s whim or mercy.

  He turned, as if sensing her perusal, and Naomi slammed her eyes shut. Of course, pretending to sleep made her pulse race and her heart want to jump out of her body. She focused on taking slow, measured breaths, keenly listening for the scrape of his shoes on the floor.

  “I reckon Lucy is waiting on you.” His voice startled her so badly because he was now two feet away from her without ever making a whisper of sound.

  Naomi’s eyes flew open and she sat up, realizing too late the only thing covering her naked body was the thin blanket that now sat puddled on her lap. Zeke’s nostrils flared as his gaze latched onto her already-hard nipples.

  She fumbled for the edge of the wool and yanked it up so fast, she almost punched herself in the chin. Naomi met his gaze steadily, unwilling to lose more of her dignity, even if her cheeks burned hot under his stare.

  “I expect she is. Hopefully I still have a job.” The last thing she wanted to do was talk to Lucy, particularly if it meant losing her job so soon after getting it.

  “Don’t worry, she won’t fire you.” Zeke walked over to the desk and leaned against it.

  “What makes you say that?” She glanced around, anxious to find her dress and put them on even playing ground. Naomi’s state of undress gave Zeke a serious advantage.

  “Lucy’s got a good heart. She gives everybody at least two chances.” He gestured to the cot. “Your dress is under there.”

  Damn him.

  She didn’t want to ask him to turn around because that would imply she was embarrassed to be naked in front of him. That, of course, would be stupid since he’d seen her inside and out. However, she hoped he’d be a gentleman and stop staring at her.

  Zeke didn’t live up to that expectation. If anything, he doubled his efforts to make her uncomfortable by ignoring her discomfort completely. What an ass.

  Well, she’d give him something to look at. Without a bit of shame, Naomi threw the blanket off, enjoying the shock on his ruggedly handsome face.

  “I should get dressed then.” She struggled to keep a grin contained. Power surged through her as she stood proudly nude in the jail. It should have occurred to her to be worried someone might enter the building without warning. After all, it was a public building. Yet she didn’t worry and she didn’t care.

  This was a battle she was determined to win with the enigmatic sheriff. She was fighting fire with fire.

  She bent over, giving him the full view of her derriere, as she picked up the dress from the dirty floor. A slight gasp was the only indication he’d noticed. With a tsk, she rose with the clothing in her hand.

  “It’s filthy in here, Zeke. You really should sweep more often.” Naomi brushed off bits of dirt and pebbles, very aware of the quiet man watching her so intently she might just catch on fire. She glanced up at him and smiled. “Hope I’m not embarrassing you.”

  Zeke’s gaze burned into hers. “I don’t embarrass easy.” His voice was smoky, as if he’d been around cigars for hours.

  Naomi smiled inwardly. “Good.” She slipped on her dress, putting on as much of a show as she could. By the time she had her arms in the sleeves, he’d apparently had enough.

  “For God’s sake, you need to get this done today before somebody walks in.” He turned her toward him and started buttoning up her dress, much more quickly than she thought possible with his big fingers.

  “I thought you said it didn’t bother you.” Was he embarrassed to have a naked woman in the jail or embarrassed that it was a scrawny blonde saloon girl?

  “It don’t.” He shrugged. “We’re grownups and it ain’t nobody’s business if we, ah, enjoyed each other’s company.”

  The slightest tremble in his voice told her much more than any of his staring or blustering ever would. He was affected by her, which was damn good. Naomi couldn’t ever remember anyone affecting her as deeply as he did. It was only fair she return the favor.

  “Interesting way to put it,” she murmured.

  “Nobody needs to be in our business.” He cupped her cheeks and kissed her so softly it felt like a hummingbird’s wing. “You’re new in town, and it’s an awful small town. God forbid one of those biddies on the town council get it in her head to get rid of you for sparking with me and run you off.”

  Sparking? Felt more like a full-on bonfire to Naomi.

  “Would you miss me?”

  The corners of his mouth kicked up a bit. “You don’t play fair, Naomi.”

  “No I don’t.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him hard. “Playing fair never got me anything but woe.”

  “We can’t have that, can we?” He kissed her again, this one a long, deep kiss with hot, wet tongues sliding together.

  She broke the kiss and stepped away, running her fingers through her tangled hair.

  “I’ll see you around, Sheriff.” With a wink and a trembling belly, she left the jail, feeling the burn of his gaze on her back.

  Oh yes, Naomi had won that battle. She had a feeling the war would be a hell of a conflict.

  She couldn’t wait.

  Zeke trembled so hard after Naomi left he slid down on the floor behind the desk where no one could see him. He focused on breathing in and out, desperately trying to get control of himself.

  What the hell had he just done?

  He’d fucked Naomi like a common whore on his desk for Chrissakes. Not only that, but he’d enjoyed it without running like a goddamn chicken from her.

  It was the first time he’d been with a woman in almost a year, since he’d been with that bitch who’d stolen too much from him. Even thinking about Veronica Marchison made his stomach roil. She’d been responsible for every second of misery he’d endured since then.

  Zeke was torn between raw fury and a jolt of pain so harsh it made his eyes prick with tears. He wanted to turn back time, before he was shot in the shoulder and incapacitated by laudanum. He’d been at her mercy, or in her nasty clutches. Even thinking about Veronica so soon after being in Naomi’s arms seemed sacrilegious.

  The urge for whiskey, just on
e shot, burned in his gut. He needed something, anything to yank back the panic that threatened to overwhelm him.

  He stared at the drawer beside him. When Martin had brought the desk in, he said it had been left by a family who didn’t have room in their wagon when they left town. It was a battered, scratched up piece of shit, but it was free. In the middle drawer was a flask with more dents and scratches than the desk. Zeke hadn’t touched it, hadn’t dared to.

  Yet now all he could think of was what might be in the flask.

  He licked his lips, already tasting the smoky flavor of the imaginary whiskey. Before he even realized what he was doing, the flask was in his hand. He pressed the dented tin to his forehead, the metal cool against his flushed skin.

  Zeke cupped the flask, staring at it until he felt a tear roll down his cheek.

  “It’s so fucking hard,” he whispered. “I just need a sip.”

  He unscrewed the top.

  * * * * *

  By the time Naomi arrived at the saloon, her confident steps faltered. She knew what was coming, or at least suspected what was coming, and wasn’t looking forward to it. Lucy didn’t seem like the most patient person in the world or even remotely forgiving.

  Done was done, however, and Naomi couldn’t change it. She’d always stepped up and taken her medicine first, eager to get it over with. Might as well keep with that tradition.

  She pushed open the doors and peeked inside. The broken tables and chairs were stacked neatly by the bar, the floor had been swept and a crate held all the broken glass. Someone had cleaned up, more than likely Joe. Naomi winced at the thought she’d caused the older man extra work.

  “You might as well get on in here.” Lucy’s voice startled Naomi, and she stumbled as she entered the saloon.

  Thankfully, the floor was just dusty and not littered with the shards of glass from the night before. Naomi straightened and wiped her hands on her already dirty dress. She turned to face Lucy with a straight spine and the courage that had helped her to survive the last few years.

  Lucy sat at the table in the left corner, her feet propped up on a chair, a mug of coffee in front of her. The steam rose from the hot brew, as if she was a witch and her kettle bubbled with potions.

  Shaking off the strange thoughts, she walked towards her boss, quaking with the urge to beg Lucy not to fire her, unwilling to allow it to burst forth. The one sin Naomi was completely guilty of was pride. Lord above, it had gotten her into way too much trouble already.

  “Morning, Lucy.”

  The older woman let her breath out in one long, disapproving sigh as Naomi sat across from her.

  “I ought to fire your skinny ass and put you on the next freight wagon moving through here.” Lucy didn’t sound angry as much as annoyed.

  “I figured you might just do that.” Naomi tried to swallow, but the dryness made her tongue stick to the roof of her mouth.

  “Tell me why I shouldn’t. I’ve tossed plenty of girls out on their ears for doing stupid things, but your stunt, well, that one took the prize for the stupidest.” Lucy leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with some dark emotion. “What the hell were you thinking starting a saloon brawl? Are you touched in the head or something?”

  Naomi had expected to have a shoe print on her fanny already so the fact that Lucy was even still speaking to her was a miracle. She intended to nurture that miracle and keep hold of her job.

  “I’ve told you I don’t work on my back. It’s a dangerous job for your body and your mind. Can’t do it, no way, no how.” Naomi swallowed the dry spit and forged on, her stomach residing somewhere near her throat. “Jeb tried to force me to break that rule of mine and wouldn’t take no for an answer. I couldn’t let that happen, wouldn’t let that happen again.”

  Lucy pursed her lips together. “He’s a bit of an idiot when he’s drunk. Pawed me plenty of times until I cuffed him on the ear with my rings on. He ain’t bothered me since.”

  “Then you understand what I mean? He’s big as a tree and I knew if I didn’t do something drastic, he would’ve carried me upstairs no matter what I said. There was so much noise and ruckus going on already, no one would’ve even noticed me screaming.” Naomi’s eyes burned, yet she would not shed a tear, not for that idiot or what he tried to do to her.

  “You rescued yourself.” Lucy nodded, finally taking a sip of her coffee and giving Naomi a small rest from the woman’s fierce expression.

  “Sometimes there’s not a gentleman around to rescue a lady, so she has to do it herself.” Naomi had forgotten much about being a lady, but she held her tongue when it came to telling Lucy her entire clientele had the manners of a goat. “I’m sorry your saloon was busted up.”

  “Me too, but the boys all left enough money to fix it up.” She set the mug down. “Apparently Zeke can put the fear of God in anyone.”

  Naomi nodded, unwilling to tell Lucy exactly what Zeke was capable of. “I’m glad the men listened to him.”

  “Carmen was practically drooling for me to fire you. Not sure why that gal has a bee in her bonnet about you.” Lucy gestured to the stairs. “Louisa cried and begged me not to fire you.”

  That not only surprised Naomi, but it made her throat tighten. No one had cared if she lived or died for so long. To have someone she hardly knew cry for her, well, that was amazing.

  “Louisa is a sweet girl.” Although only a few years between them, Naomi felt much older.

  “She’s dumb as a stump, but she’s cute and the gal can smile through a shit storm.” Lucy stood and frowned down at Naomi. “I believe in giving everyone a second chance, so this here’s yours. You’re going to finish what Joe started last night and get the saloon ready for tonight.”

  Naomi wanted to smile, but nodded instead, absurdly grateful for Lucy’s generosity. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. You have no idea what they did to the outhouse.” Lucy shook her finger at Naomi. “Watch yourself, girl. Ain’t no more chances for you here.”

  * * * * *

  Lee sipped the delicious coffee Margaret had made and gazed out at the early morning streets of Tanger. The restaurant had no patrons yet. It was his favorite time of day, when he could simply be at peace. Or at least the closest he could come to it anyway.

  As he brought the mug to his mouth, he heard whistling from outside, a familiar sound he hadn’t heard in quite some time. Zeke must’ve had a good night with his prisoner, whoever he was. Lee half-expected his brother to be in a lousy mood.

  “Of course it’s not too early, come on in, Richard.” Zeke’s voice boomed loud and clear, and to Lee’s disappointment, slurred.

  “Goddammit.” He stood, intent on kicking Zeke’s ass six ways to Sunday for drinking after three months of staying sober.

  Zeke came in with a stranger behind him. The man walked with a cane and a limp. By the look on his face, he wanted to be anywhere but there. When his gaze met Lee’s, he looked apologetic. Lee decided he liked this man already.

  “Lee! There you are. This here is my friend Richard A-a-and— What was your name again? Oh, never mind.” Zeke laughed.

  “You’re drunk, you idiot,” Lee snarled.

  “Now, Lee, remember your manners. Say hello to Richard.” Zeke nearly lost his balance, stumbling into the stair banister.

  Lee couldn’t help but be angry with his big brother. They’d both worked so damn hard to keep him away from the booze. “What the hell happened? Did you fall into a whiskey barrel or did that bitch Lucy give you some?”

  “Hey now, don’t talk bad about Lucy. She didn’t do nothing.” He finally focused on Lee’s face. “I’m sorry, Lee, I just couldn’t help it.” Naked agony shone deep in his brown gaze.

  Lee’s anger deflated a bit. “Let’s get your ass upstairs so you can sleep it off.” He turned to the stranger. “I’m sorry about this.”

 
Richard held up one hand. “It’s fine, Mr. Blackwood. There’s no need for you to apologize.”

  The brothers Blackwood stumbled up the stairs leaning on each other as Lee struggled to get Zeke to his room. When he sobered up, Zeke was going to have questions to answer. When they made it to the bed, Zeke was laughing so hard, he fell face first into the mattress.

  “What the hell were you thinking? It’s been almost three months.” Lee rolled Zeke over, shocked to see tears in his brother’s eyes.

  Zeke pressed his fist to his chest. “I just wanted to dull the pain and get hold of myself again. It’s still just so damn hard.”

  Lee had no idea what he was talking about, but he was disheartened to realize Zeke was still struggling to control the urge to drink.

  “Sleep it off.” Lee pulled off Zeke’s boots and put a blanket over him before he left the room. He wished he knew how to cure his brother, anything to stop the hell he lived through every day.

  Richard was downstairs nursing a mug of coffee, looking very much at home in the restaurant. At that moment, Lee knew two things about the man. He’d been a soldier, and he wouldn’t shy away from talking about it.

  Most days, the Devils avoided the topic of the war with Lee, guessing the idea of dredging up how he’d lost his arm would be painful. They were wrong. Each day he wished he could talk about it with someone. Perhaps this stranger would be that person.

  “Hope you don’t mind, I helped myself to some coffee.”

  “No, you’re welcome to it. Margaret went to get eggs from the mercantile so she ain’t around to serve you.” Lee gestured to the table. “Can I join you?”

  “Of course, please do.” Richard managed a small smile. “Your brother told me about you.”

  Lee’s automatic defenses slammed into place. “With or without being drunk?”

  Richard’s eyebrows went up. “Without actually. He told me you were the bravest man he knew.”

  Lee let that sink in before he felt his cheeks heat with embarrassment. “Zeke is a bit biased. I think anyone who fought for what they believe in is brave.”