The Homecoming

by Raine Cantrell

  “Then be wrong with me.”

  She shivered under the first touch of his hand on her hair.

  “You are so lovely. You take my breath.”

  Matt took her hand and brought to his lips. He kissed the center of her palm, then enfolded her smaller hand with his. He drew her with him to where he had left his bedroll and saddle. He set the carbine in the scabbard, then unbuckled his gunbelt, which he dropped over the saddle seat. He faced Laine.

  “One regret I had when I left was that I missed your coming-out party. I wanted to see you with your hair up, dressed in silk and lace, and I wanted to you to have your first dance with me.” He rubbed her bottom lip, then used his finger to tilt her chin up.

  “Oh, Matt, there was no party.”

  “Then may I have the honor of this dance?”

  “Here? Now?” Excitement sparkled in her eyes.

  “I can’t carry a tune, but I can manage to hum.”

  Matt slid his arm around the curve of her waist, his hand resting on the small of her back. He hummed a few bars of a popular waltz and took hold of her hand.

  Lanie rested her other hand on his shoulder. An elemental feminine tremble went through her. She felt the heat of his body that made her mouth go dry.

  “I am so sorry there was no party for you. I often imagined how I’d whirl you around until I could whisk you outside. There in the moonlight I would tell you what a beautiful young woman you are.”

  “You and I are here. We have the moonlight.”

  The way Matt held her, her bare toes barely skimmed the blades of grass. Nearly breathless with the rapid turns, her dense amber lashes fluttered, then stilled over wide grey eyes when he touched his lips to hers.

  This was not the passionate kiss he had taught her. His mouth was so gentle, cherishing. The kiss, one a young girl on the brink of womanhood would carry into her dreams.

  With the greatest reluctance Matt ended the chaste kiss and just held her. He stroked her back, his fingers tangling in the silken mass. For a few moments he crushed her hair in his hands, inhaling the faint scent of lavender that rose from the warmth of her body. He still thought he could salvage Laine’s pride and manage to walk away.

  He hadn’t counted on Laine.

  Her hands cupped his cheeks. “Thank you. I’m so glad it was you who gave me my first dance, my very first kiss. They are the loveliest gifts anyone ever gave to me.”

  She looked into his eyes as she fitted her mouth to his.

  And wildfire smoldered.

  Laine entwined her arms around his neck. She put her heart into the kiss. There was no holding back.

  When Matt kissed her and held her like this the world receded. All that remained was a reckless desire, this insatiable passion to be one with him. She whimpered softly under the hungry demand of his lips.

  She slid her fingers through the unruly length of his hair. His breath-catching shudder as she caressed the bare skin of his nape made her press closer.

  Matt scattered kisses over her face. He held her hair back as he studied her face lifted to his. The moonlight bathed her in its glow. The curve of her brow, the thick fan of lashes, the line of her nose, the lush shape of her mouth made desire rise in him like a hot tide.

  Lovely Laine, passionate, desirable, and so courageous.

  There was no other woman he wanted or needed more in his life.

  The questioning murmur of his name ceased with a hard fast kiss that gentled as he tasted her. Her tongue dueled with his, teasing, then dancing away. He slid his hands down her back, shaping her hips to pull her closer and mold her lower body to his.

  Laine caught his lower lip with the edge of her teeth. She remembered how Matt had done this to her, and how ribbons of heat spiraled through her. She rubbed the captive flesh with the tip of her tongue. His groan was her reward.

  Matt held her tighter until his aroused manhood was like a living force between them. Fire spread from the flood of desire that raced through her body.

  He deftly reversed roles, holding her lower lip captive. Each little tremor, each tiny moan from her was fuel to stoke passion’s heightened senses. There rose within him an impatience to taste her bared throat, to undo the ribbon ties, which hid sweeter, softer, hotter flesh. Her fingertips pressing hard into his shoulders spurred him to follow the path his thoughts had set.

  Laine threw her head back, releasing a low, wild cry. Each bit of skin was laved by his tongue, kissed and praised. Tremors turned to deep-seated trembles that made her knees weak, and she clung to him. The warmth of his mouth and breath pierced the sheer cloth to sear her. She drew in the night scent of crushed grass and the male scent that was Matt’s alone.

  He shifted his hold, one arm locking around her waist, the other sliding down to hold her buttocks. For a moment he fought to control his hunger before he raised her up to his lips.

  “Matt? Please, I …” Her voice broke. His heated mouth closed over one tightly drawn nipple. She gripped his head, pulling him harder against her. The feeling was exquisite. She wanted him with a desperation that had her twisting in his arms, crying out his name, demanding more. She had waited so long for him.

  But as he claimed her for his own, she wanted, needed to make the same claim.

  “I want to kiss every soft bit of you. Do you want that, Laine?” His voice was a husky, coaxing whisper, thick with desire.

  “I want you.” No coyness. Trust and desire shone from her eyes. “I have always wanted you. Only you.”

  “Oh, Laine, you’re more that I dared to dream.” He slowly slid her down his body, deliberately pressing her over his aroused flesh straining his buttoned fly.

  Both of them shuddered.

  Laine used the intensity of her emotions to make the bold move to unbutton his shirt. Her hands shook, her fingers less than nimble. Once more she followed Matt’s path to kiss each bit of flesh revealed. The heated scent of their bodies, the far-too-rapid heartbeats, their uneven breaths combined to inflame the passion they brought to each other. She was unsure of herself, but his gentle hold and even his patience to allow her explorations heightened her feminine sense of worth. She could arouse and incite her lover with a touch, a kiss, a breathless cry.

  Laine trembled when he traced every sensitive curve of her ear. His warm breath touching her skin kindled another layer of intoxication of being loved by him. From a string of small kisses forming the line of her jaw, his open mouth on her neck deepened the trembles inside her. There was a knot forming, coiling ever tighter.

  The feminine scent of her own growing arousal and Matt’s darker, stronger male scent mingled together. She felt the glide of her nightgown’s sleeves fall free, the cloth pooling over his hands at her waist.

  The warm breeze caressed her breasts, then there was flesh on flesh. She suddenly felt soft and fragile. But she knew the muscular length of his body. She went utterly still under his exploring hands and lips.

  Laine tried to tell him what he made her feel, but her breath caught seeing the full swell of her breasts nestled against the dark curling hair on his chest. She burned. His hands slid to her hips and the nightgown fell to her feet. Bracing her hands on his shoulders, standing on tiptoe, the soft nest of curls at the vee joining of her thighs cradled his hardened flesh.

  The coiled knot of tension began to unravel inside her. She cried out when Matt lowered his head to nuzzle and kiss her breasts. His breath and lips heated her skin as he went slowly to his knees. He courted the aching fullness of her breasts with feathery touches of his tongue, delicate love bites, and she grabbed hold of him as the only solid anchor in a spinning world.

  His dark hair rested against the curve of her belly, his kisses inciting and paying homage to her. She felt the sear of his lips on her skin. Panic took hold only to be smothered by the wildness that swept thro
ugh her. His kisses skimmed her thighs, the mound of curls.

  Trembles turned to deep-seated tremors that grew until she shook with the power of them. She tensed against his firm hold when his fingers combed the soft curls, gently stroking, slipping lower until he found the hidden nub.

  “Matt? I can’t …” Her high keening cry cut off by her own hand. His mouth found her. She twisted and arched against him as he stole innocence and returned a scorching, radiant intimacy that left her limp, but gifted her with the first taste of womanly ecstasy.

  Matt made a ragged sound as he fought to control his wild hunger for her. He forced himself to rise and swung her up into his arms, striding to where he had left his bedroll. Laine rested her cheek against the heavy thud of his heart. Her hand slipped beneath his shirt, touching the light curling hair that covered the defining muscle of his chest. Her fingertip brushed a hard little nub. His breath caught. She explored a bit more.

  “Laine, if you keep on, I’ll lose what little control I have left.”

  “You would? I could do that to you? Like you’ve done to me?”

  Matt lowered her to the bedroll. He didn’t miss the very curious, excited note in her voice. He untied his moccasins and toed them off.

  “Matt?”

  “Oh, yeah, you could. But keep in mind I’ll return the pleasure.”

  He caught her mouth beneath his. Laine was wrong thinking she had received the loveliest gift. It was his, in her trust, her giving, her honest responses.

  She pushed the shirt from his shoulders, helping him to shrug it off as she caressed muscles she had so lovingly tended. With the ending of his kiss, Laine paid sweet, teasing homage to her lover’s body. She first touched, then kissed the bandage over his wound.

  “I wish I could heal this for you.”

  “You heal more than you know, Laine. It’s all you need. All I want.”

  She trailed her fingers over the edge of skin above his waistband. She looked up. Moonlight bathed his dark unruly hair, his face and shoulders. Her breath caught. He was silvered and shadowed, dark and lean. And hungry. With her eyes holding his, she undid his belt buckle.

  “I want to see you. All of you.”

  “Laine, you’ll burn me alive.”

  “Yes. I want that, too.”

  Matt had the darnedest time trying to open buttons with her first tentative touches hardening a body already rawhide taut.

  Laine wore a secret smile as she trailed her hand over this new masculine territory.

  Matt watched her through half-opened eyes. She gave him a wild, hot pleasure with every caress. He knew he should stop her before she burned away his control. He released a throaty groan. And he then knew he wouldn’t stop her. Could not.

  She bared his hip, then his thigh. Matt braced himself on one elbow and pushed away cloth hindering her exploration. Her appreciative murmurs and curious touches were unbearably arousing. Matt closed his eyes and shuddered with raw need. With a quick move he had her down and himself stretched out beside her.

  Laine knew sweet, heated kisses and gentle touches weren’t enough. A feverish craving yearned for a deeper, harder mating. A rising breeze on her bare skin brought a moment’s relief, gone in a second when Matt’s chest covered hers. But there was no easing of the knot inside her as it coiled tight once more. Matt’s caresses made hot pleasure spread through her to gather in the secret places of her body.

  The hot helpless response gained force as he touched her hidden flesh. She barely heard his husky praise. She wanted something more. And she didn’t know how to tell him.

  The restless twisting and arching of her body told Matt without words when she sought. His body clenched the urgent need to fully join with her.

  “I want you to love me,” she pleaded raggedly. Her eyes met his. “I don’t want to wait.”

  The blazing clarity of her eyes scored him to his soul. His blood ran heavy, the hunger he had leashed slipped his hold.

  “Wildfire burning,” he whispered.

  “Yes, like that. Now.”

  He covered her body with his own. Laine was seized by a wild abandon, pressing frantic little kisses wherever she could, caressing him, urging him. He slipped his hands beneath her to lift her. No matter her pleas to hurry, he refused to cause her undue pain. Sweat broke out, trembles rippling over her at the first rite of claiming her as his.

  Matt knew he shouldn’t, but he caressed her with slow moves of his hips. Laine arched upward, wanting more. Heat spiraled through her. She moved again, closer to him.

  “Easy, love. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Lost in a deep well of pleasure, Laine barely heard him. She gripped Matt’s upper arms. The sensations were too many to sort. She twisted hungrily beneath his powerful body, desiring yet more.

  Matt started rocking slowly and so carefully.

  Laine lifted her hips, demanding more. She felt the knot coil as passion burned through her. “Laine, look at me!”

  She slowly opened eyes dark with a smoldering silver rim around each dilated pupil. She looked at Matt poised above her, his face shadowed and flushed with passion, his eyes like golden flames.

  “Now?”

  “Now, love, now.”

  With a smooth, powerful thrust he joined them. Matt took her mouth as intimately as he took her body before she cried out. He held absolutely still, until he felt her shivering release. She clung to him, moving with him, sharing the intense pleasure they brought to each other.

  And the wildfire, as he had promised, burned.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Matt couldn’t believe things went from sugar to sludge between Laine and him.

  The sugar came from Laine’s radiant glow, her shy sweet smiles, her approving gaze when she looked at him. He felt as if he could tackle anything that came his way. When she offered him food or something to drink, the slight brush of her body brought a heated rush of blood and flooded his mind with images of his new lover.

  If Rachel or Tater spoke to him, he didn’t hear them. His gaze and thoughts were all for Laine. He wanted to proclaim that she was his woman, and soon to be his wife. He still couldn’t understand what she saw in him that made her care so much. He needed to protect her, get her away from here, and from thought, he began to make plans.

  “Matt? Matt, are you listening?”

  He looked up to see Laine beside him. There was a softness to her features that captured his attention. Her eyes gleamed with a hidden smile, and soft tendrils of silky bronze hair had escaped her loose braid. A blush tinted her cheeks, and her lips seemed fuller.

  “What did you want, love?” Her eyes widened hearing the endearment, and Matt looked around. Both Rachel and Tater were gone. To where he didn’t know and didn’t care. He slid his arm around her slender waist to draw her closer.

  “Good morning, love.” He gently kissed her. And as much as he wanted to linger, he didn’t trust himself.

  Laine cuddled at his side. She brushed an unruly lock of his hair from his forehead. “I missed having you near,” she confessed in a whisper. “I wanted to wake in your arms.”

  “We will soon enough. You’ll marry me, won’t you, Laine? Just as soon as we can get clear of here. I’ve been making plans. I’ll get the mule from home, and you’ll need three good riding horses. With the stock you have, you can get started sorting and packing. I saw some army saddle packs at the mercantile. I’ll pick up a few.”

  “I’ll get the mule from home.” Those were the words Laine heard and silently repeated. She had not forgotten the horror of seeing his home destroyed. The very mule he mentioned was dead. She couldn’t let him go. When she thought of what she had gone through yesterday, the things that had made her desperate to keep him with her and that pushed her into seeking him out last night, she grew afraid all over again.

  She shoul
d insist they get married right away. That would buy time. But not enough. Today, tomorrow … he’d go home, see the ruin. He’d want vengeance. She could lose him. How to stop him? Her thoughts scurried like mice running loose in an attic. She didn’t realize she had backed away from Matt until he rose from the chair and took a few steps toward her.

  “What wrong, Laine? I know my proposal lacked all the fancy trimmings. No candlelight, no flowers, no pretty music. But, Laine, you …”

  “No. No, I just can’t hear anymore.”

  He caught hold of the coffeepot before she dropped it. Setting it down on the table, he drew her into his arms, pressing her head against his chest.

  “Ah, love, forgive me. I’ve handled this all wrong. You deserve courting and sweet words. I wish …”

  “Don’t. No wishes. No going back,” she whispered, guilty tears filling her eyes.

  “Laine, don’t cry. Please don’t. I swear I’ll make it up to you. I’d do anything to make you happy.”

  She latched on to that word. “Anything?” She pushed against his hand cradling her head to look up at him. His whiskey colored eyes were filled with concern for her.

  “Leave now, Matt?”

  “Now?”

  “Yes. We have nothing to hold us here. We can go today. We’ll take whatever we can and just leave.”

  A frown creased his brow. He searched her eyes glistening with unshed tears but filled with the expectation that he would agree. The suggestion was so unlike his practical Laine that the thought crossed his mind that she was hiding something from him. Matt almost dismissed it as soon as it formed. Laine was honest with him, almost painfully so, with her thoughts and feelings. He must not forget that she wanted him to leave from the minute he returned. Yet a little nagging voice warned there was something more here.

  “Matt, we won’t stop for anything. We can ride west to Fort Worth. Then we’ll go to those lands you told us about. We’ll find a new place. A place of peace.” she grabbed hold of his shirtfront. “Say yes, Matt. I promise you’ll never be sorry.”

  From warning, he went to alert. “Tell me what’s wrong. I know you, Laine. You’re a courageous woman. You’d charge hell with a tin cup full of water to protect someone you care about, but you’re running scared right now.”