Rio

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Rio Page 18

by Georgina Gentry


  Without thinking, she blurted, “I will pay for your time.”

  And now he scowled at her. “Oh, si, I forget. You are used to having money and you think money can buy anything. I am sorry, senorita, it cannot buy me.” He turned and walked away, back to his forge.

  Tears came to her eyes and she struggled to hold them in. “Please, I—I need to talk to you.”

  He frowned coldly. “About what?”

  “I don’t know—about us, about what happened that night.”

  “I am a gentleman,” he said with great dignity. “If you are worried that I will talk, I would not destroy a lady’s reputation. I have apologized to you and regret it ever happened. As far as I and the world are concerned, nothing occurred that night.”

  She slid off her horse and stood there holding the reins. “How can you say that?”

  He shrugged and picked up his hammer. “I’m surprised to see you again, senorita. I figured that by now you would be engaged to the senator. Did he not ask you?”

  “He begged on his knees.”

  Rio snorted. “That should give you much satisfaction, two men making fools of themselves for you. How many diamonds and fine homes did he trade for you?”

  She hated him for his sarcasm, yet loved him still. “I said no.”

  “That really surprises me.” He gave her a searching look with his dark eyes.

  “After that night in your arms, why would it? After that night, how could you think I could allow another man to make love to me?”

  He shrugged. “Because money and social position were so important to you.”

  “Maybe I was a fool. Maybe I’ve changed.”

  He seemed nonchalant as he picked up a horseshoe. “The girls at the cantina were glad to see me again.”

  She winced, imagining him in another woman’s arms. “I don’t doubt that. I don’t have any other experience, but I think you must be very good at what you do.”

  “So this is it?” he snapped. “The privileged girl is in town and would like to be provided stud service to entertain her for an afternoon?”

  She stepped to him and slapped him; slapped him so hard, she left fingerprints on his face and his head snapped back. Then she whirled to walk away, but he ran after her and grabbed her.

  “Let me go, you heartless bastard!” She struggled to break his grip while he whirled her around and held onto her as she fought him.

  “Wait, don’t go, my sweet one,” he whispered. “I deserved that.”

  She was weeping now and trying to pull away from him, but he was too strong for her.

  “Oh, Turquoise, my only love.” He buried his dark face against her hair. “You will be the death of me yet. We are not meant to be together, and yet you are in my blood, roaring through my brain when we are not together. I lied, I’ve touched no other woman, wanted no other woman but you.” He jerked her up against his bare, brawny chest and kissed her hard.

  For a split second, she struggled and felt the heat of his sweat and the raw power of his sinewy muscle and then she surrendered and returned his kiss with all the passion that was in her.

  “If you only want stud service,” he whispered, “I am your lowly slave and will be content to amuse you for the afternoon, though it breaks my heart I do not mean more to you.”

  She was weeping now and clinging to him. “That’s not why I came. I—I don’t know why I came.”

  “You came for this,” and he kissed her deeply, thoroughly, as she clung to him and let him caress and embrace her.

  After a moment, he pulled away from her and wiped the tears off her cheeks with the tip of his finger and smiled. “You have soot on you now, pretty one, and on your fine clothes, too.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Of course not. Your rich guardian can buy you more.”

  “Will you stop that!” she raged and jerked away from him, starting for her horse.

  “Wait one momento!” he commanded and she paused by her horse. “Let me close up here and get a saddle. We’ll ride.”

  She turned and looked back at him as he grabbed a rag and wiped himself off, then reached for a faded denim shirt. “I don’t know why I came.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” He smiled ever so slightly. “I’m glad you did.” He came over and lifted her up into her saddle and she followed him down to the barn, where he saddled his fine bay quarterhorse and mounted.

  “You have some good horses,” she said.

  “Si, but not many. Someday if I work hard, maybe I can add to my herd and buy more land.” He rode up beside her and they started off at a walk, Tip running ahead of them, sniffing at the grass and barking at an occasional rabbit.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “I want to show you my ranch,” he said, glancing over at her. “It’s only fifty acres, but there’s some good pasture and a nice small lake back there in the hills.”

  She looked toward the rolling grass on the other side of the fence. “Whose is that?”

  “Not mine.” He shook his head. “Some New York company and even if it were for sale, I can’t afford it.”

  “Well, fifty acres is a good start and can raise a few good horses and cattle.”

  They rode past his small adobe house and she stared at the scarlet oleanders and remembered.

  He must have misinterpreted her stare, because he said, “I’m afraid it’s not much, but it’s big enough for me and my one ranch hand.”

  She looked at him as they passed. “It looks cozy. I imagine a little paint and some curtains and any woman could be happy there.”

  “It’s not a mansion, Turquoise,” he reminded her.

  “Sometimes mansions can be cold and lonely,” she said, remembering the big, dark house of the Foresters.

  They rode for a few minutes in silence. The wind whispered through the dry grass and the desert willows that bloomed now all pink and white.

  “This is really a fine ranch,” Turquoise said, enjoying her ride across the prairie.

  He didn’t say anything until they reached the edge of a clear, small lake. They let their horses drink and then he dismounted and came around to her, looking up at her. “If you only came to be pleasured, I wish you’d be honest with me. Don’t let me hope it might be something more.”

  She blushed, wanting his body now that she knew the skill with which it performed. “Stop saying that. I—I’m not really sure why I came.”

  “Maybe you want to turn around and ride back to your friend’s ranch? It’s late afternoon. You would be back before dark and no one ever need know where you’d been.”

  “I don’t think I’m ready to go yet,” she decided and held out her arms to him.

  He reached up and eased her down from her horse, but he didn’t release her from his embrace. “This is loco,” he whispered and then let go of her and led the two horses under a tree and tied them, where the two grazed peacefully. She stood and watched him, wanting to run her hands through that black mop of hair.

  “There’s a shady place over near the lake’s edge,” he said and gestured. Then they walked there together and sat down on the grass. Tip lay down near them, panting from all his rabbit chasing. Rio offered her his canteen. “Are you thirsty?”

  She nodded and took it with a smile. It seemed such an intimate gesture, drinking from his canteen.

  “I don’t know what you’re doing here, senorita. Every time I see you, it just tears me up inside but it’s such pleasant torture.”

  “I can’t forget that night,” she confessed. “And I wanted to experience it again.”

  He nodded. “I’ve gotten you all smudgy,” he said. “I need to wash up, if you don’t mind.”

  “Go ahead.”

  He stood up and pulled off his boots, then walked down to the water’s edge. He hesitated only a moment before he peeled off his pants and stepped into the water. He wore nothing but the cross around his sinewy neck. She got a quick glimpse of long, lean thighs and a hard butt, but what
she noticed most was the big manhood between his thighs. Yes, this was a stallion of a man. He swam and dived, coming up like a seal and blowing water into the air while she laughed. She reached into her sleeve and pulled out a lace hankie, wiping the perspiration from her face.

  He stood waist deep, watching her. “Come on in, the water’s fine.”

  She shook her head and laughed. “No, thanks. You come out.”

  He came out then, water dripping off his dark body He reached up and wiped his ebony hair back from his rugged face. He stood looking down at her and she looked over his naked body boldly.

  “I don’t want to get you wet,” he said and flopped down on the grass next to her. “You’d have some explaining to do then.”

  She reached out and put her hand on his shoulder. “I’m not sure I care.”

  He turned his head and kissed that hand. “I care. I can’t ruin a lady’s reputation where no gentleman would have her and high society would gossip about her. That’s what you’ve been trying to escape all your life, isn’t it?”

  “I was wrong,” she whispered and leaned over and kissed him. “I came for this and you know it.”

  “I knew it before you did.” Immediately, he seemed to forget his caution. He pulled her to him in a tight embrace and returned that kiss. Her western hat fell off as he reached to untie her hair. She could feel the water from his lithe body soaking through her clothing and she reached up and ran her hand through his wet hair and clung to him, wanting what he had to give.

  “Turquoise,” he whispered against her lips, “don’t make a fool of me. I’m vulnerable to you like I have never been to another woman, and you can hurt me bad.”

  “I can’t promise you anything,” she gasped. “I only knew that I had to come, had to feel your arms around me again.”

  He kissed her again and then with a low moan, kissed her face and eyes and then her lips again, his cold face wet against her warm one. “I’m getting you soaked,” he whispered.

  She looked around. It was dusk. “You’re right, maybe I need to take this outfit off and hang it over a limb. It’ll dry in the breeze.”

  “Are you sure you want to do that?”

  “Unbutton the back of my blouse,” she said, pulling off her leather vest as she turned.

  She felt his fingers on her back as he unbuttoned her blouse and then he leaned and kissed along her backbone, which sent goose bumps up her spine. Then she stood up and pulled the split skirt and blouse off, hanging them over a low tree branch.

  “You are beautiful in your underwear. It must be expensive,” he said, looking her up and down.

  “Imported lace,” she answered and began to unbutton her bodice until her breasts were bare.

  “Oh, such breasts!” He stood up and put his hands under her bottom, lifting her to him so that his lips could caress and lick and kiss those breasts.

  “You’re still getting me wet,” she gasped as she arched against his mouth.

  “You should have thought of that before you came looking for me.”

  She watched him, suddenly feeling bold in the growing darkness. “Is anyone liable to see us?”

  “Not likely. My cowhand is gone down to San Antonio tonight to visit relatives.” He stood there in the twilight, naked and proud.

  She couldn’t keep her gaze off him as she pulled off her lace bodice, then sat down to pull off her boots. “You mean, the house is empty?”

  He nodded. “Would you rather go there?”

  She shook her head as she stood up and put her fingers on the tops of her lace drawers, then unbuttoned them. “No, I think I like it here on the lake bank. It’s wild and uninhibited somehow.” She let her drawers fall to her ankles, knowing he was watching her, caressing her body with his dark gaze. Then she stepped toward him and he grabbed for her and pulled her hard against his wet, naked body. He was all power and manhood. She could feel it throbbing hard and big against her belly.

  A coyote howled in the distance somewhere and Tip came alert and growled.

  She stiffened and looked up at Rio.

  “Don’t worry,” he whispered against her ear. “I have my rifle with me.”

  “Don’t you carry a pistol like Trace does?”

  He shook his head and kissed her face. “I’m no good with a handgun. I’m not a gunfighter. You know a rancher only really needs a rifle.”

  “Then make love to me, my vaquero,” she demanded. “I command you, make love to me like I have dreamed of you doing ever since that time under the scarlet oleanders.”

  He seemed to need no further urging. He swung her up in his arms and she arched her back so that he could kiss her breasts, and then he lay her on the soft grass in the early darkness and lay down next to her.

  She took his big right hand in her own and kissed the shamrock tattoo on the back of it. “I don’t care who your father was or your mother either. I have never felt like this about any man before.”

  He pulled her hand up to his mouth and kissed it. “I have had many women, Turquoise, I won’t lie to you about that, but since I made love to you, I think no other one will ever satisfy me again.” He bent and kissed her breasts and then caressed them with his strong, suntanned hands, molding them up into peaks so his hot tongue could lick her nipples and make her squirm and moan.

  His hand went to explore her, touching her, teasing her with his fingertips while she spread wide, wanting him to touch deeper still. She was panting and dewy wet now, wanting him, needing him.

  “Do what you did before,” she begged against his mouth. “Make me one with you, mount me, take me….”

  He needed no further urging. He pushed her knees up on each side of her black hair that spread under her in the grass like spilled ink. He knelt between her thighs and she could see his maleness, all hard and erect and throbbing. Past his shoulder, the sky seemed to be alight with stars and she felt like a wild, primitive thing, ready to mate with her male in the darkness under the trees.

  He came into her slowly, making her grab onto his waist and try to pull him down into her. “You torture me,” she gasped. “Come deeper still.”

  “Make it last, pretty one,” he whispered and came down relentlessly, gradually, while she bucked under him, wanting it all, urging him with her own fierce need. He rode her slowly, rhythmically, while she dug her nails into his hard hips and begged him to ride harder, faster until he succumbed to her wishes and rode her hard, pulling almost out and then slamming into her with a loud slapping of flesh on flesh. She grunted each time he came full into her and she locked her long legs around his waist so that he could not escape until he had given her what she hungered for. She was using him for her pleasure and she felt no shame in it.

  One last second as he plunged into her and climaxed hard, she dug her nails into his hips so that he could not escape and they clung together under the stars and reached the pinnacle of pleasure together.

  She did not know how long it lasted or when she gradually returned to consciousness. Her eager body kept convulsing, holding onto his, not wanting to let him go until she had squeezed out every drop of seed he had to give, and then she wept softly while he kissed her mouth ever so gently.

  “My little love,” he whispered, “what am I to do with you except pleasure you when you beckon me like a lowly servant? We are so unsuitable for each other.”

  “You can make love to me again and again,” she murmured against his mouth.

  “And this is my future?You will marry some prominent, rich man and then sneak over to see me now and then so that I can satisfy your greedy body?” He shook his head and pulled away from her. “No, that hurts me. It makes me no more human than a well-hung stallion.”

  “It’s more than that. I think I love you.” She sat up, protesting.

  He reached out and cupped one of her generous breasts, stroking and teasing it until she was gasping for air. “Let’s not talk about it anymore. I can settle for that if I must. Why don’t we swim?”

  She
laughed. “Why don’t we?”

  They dove naked into the cool water, swimming and splashing like two children playing hookey. He caught her in the water and kissed her all over, then lifted her up in his arms and kissed below her belly.

  “Oh,” she gasped, “you’ve got me wanting you again.”

  “I said I would service you whenever you wanted, my lady,” he promised and carried her over, lay her in the shallow water so that more than half of her was exposed to the night air. Now he lay on top of her and rode her with a passion as if he had never had her before, and she thought if he made love to her all night, she still wouldn’t be satisfied.

  “It’s getting late,” he finally said regretfully. “Let’s wash up and dress. I’ve got some chili at the house and some enchiladas.”

  “I’ll wager they’re not as good as I make,” she said, splashing in the water and then standing up, letting the warm night wind dry her naked body.

  “You can cook, too?” He laughed and smacked her bare bottom.

  She nodded. “I didn’t get enough of you. Can you keep this up all night?”

  He winked at her in the moonlight. “I’m probably only good for half a dozen times, but tonight, I’d better get you back to Fern’s ranch before someone starts looking for us.” They began to dress slowly. She didn’t want to leave him, but of course she must. She had been lucky the last time to get home before the Lessup family discovered she’d been out all night. Of course Fern probably knew, but she wouldn’t tattle. Tip had come awake and now stood looking toward the south and growling.

  As they dressed, Rio sniffed the south wind. “Do you smell smoke?”

  She shook her head and pulled on her boots. “I don’t smell anything.”

  “It would be bad if we got a prairie fire going with this wind,” he said and sniffed again.

  She took a deep breath. “You know, now that you mention it, I think I do smell smoke.” Tip began to bark and then the little dog took off at a run for the house and barn over the hill.

  Rio’s rugged face turned abruptly serious. “Mount up. We’d better check.”

  She needed no further urging. They both swung into their saddles and started toward the ranch at a lope. When they topped the hill, they heard little Tip barking frantically and could see the house and the barn and the farrier’s shed. The flames lit up the sky like a torch.

 

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