by Merry Farmer
“What better uses?” she asked. Her heart beat faster with the desire to know what he would plan next.
“To start with, I noticed both Ginny’s and Howard’s corrals need some repairs,” he said. He turned to Alice. “It’s a shame the raw wood was made into rails. I may not know much about building, but it looks to me like there was enough here to build a log cabin.”
A cabin. A home. Jarvis was a man who thought about these things, about building up and making a life. He had sought to help her from the first moment he laid eyes on her. He was the type to help and provide, to make a name for himself and for his family.
“At the very least, once it’s cured, there could be enough firewood here to last both Ginny and Howard through a couple of winters,” he went on. “If only it was put to the right uses.”
“Jarvis,” she said, so quiet that she almost didn’t hear herself over the pounding of her heart. The sun was setting, but within her, the light was dawning.
“Maybe I can talk to Ginny,” Jarvis went on. “Convince her to make peace with Howard some other way. All of this, not to mention the labor, could be better used elsewhere.”
“Jarvis, I love you.”
She blinked and held her breath as soon as the words were out. Jarvis froze, watching her. For a moment, the only sound was the bubbling of the stream and the whisper of the wind across the plain. Then, slowly at first, a grin spread across Jarvis’s beautiful face, filling him with warmth. He took a step closer to Alice.
“I know,” he said with so much tenderness that Alice’s heart fluttered against her chest like a bird trying to break free from a cage.
“I love you,” she repeated, letting each word sink through her, into her soul.
“I know,” Jarvis inched closer. His grin burst into low, enticing laughter.
He reached for her, but before he could pull her into his arms, she leaned into him, pressing up to her toes to kiss him. She was the kind of woman who kissed the man she loved without a thought to what he or anyone else would think. She loved him. She wanted him. That was all that mattered. She opened her mouth against his, drawing him in with a passion that pulsed from the bottom of her heart. That love wanted to fill the world with light and banish every bit of wandering darkness.
Jarvis responded gently. He embraced her, meeting her kiss with his own deep passion. Alice could feel it in the strength of his arms, the heat of his body, the beat of his heart against her own. His mouth explored hers with tenderness, letting her choose the heights of passion they would rise to. And she wanted to rise all the way.
“I want you,” she murmured, unable to fully meet his eyes, the feeling was so intense. She reached for the hem of his shirt, tugging it out of his waistband so that she could spread her palms along the firm plains of his sides. “I want you like I want to live.”
The truth of it rushed through her, taking her breath away. She curled her fingertips against Jarvis’s flesh, reveling in the way he tensed and hummed deep in his chest. He was so real and solid in a world that had felt anything but for so long. She pushed up to her toes and kissed him once more, pouring her soul into it. This was what she was meant for, to love and be loved.
She made quick work of tugging his shirt out of his trousers and pushing the suspenders that held it up off of his shoulders. A giddy thrill zipped through her when Jarvis responded by reaching for the buttons at the top of her blouse. He did his best to undo them with shaking hands while Alice reached for the clasp at the back of her skirt, grateful that she’d chosen to wear something so simple to this nighttime vigil. She didn’t even care that the sun hadn’t fully set and anyone approaching would see her and Jarvis undressing each other as if the world was coming to an end.
“Wait.” Jarvis broke their kiss, taking half a step back. Waiting was the last thing Alice wanted to do, but her heart melted when Jarvis went on with, “Are you certain this is what you want?”
“Yes,” Alice breathed out without hesitation. “This is what I want, and this is what I choose.”
There was no other way to explain to him how important her choice was besides reaching for him, threading her fingers through his hair, and bringing him down for a long, heartfelt kiss. Her body ached with need for him, but it was her heart that shouted the loudest message. That message was one of thanks as much as it was desire.
“I want to do it right this time,” Jarvis murmured against her lips.
He caressed her hair, traced the line of her jaw, ran his thumb across her cheek as he cradled her face. For a moment, Alice was anxious that he would push her back and refuse to make love to her, but when he smiled, her fears vanished. He kissed her with abandon, his tongue teasing hers in a prelude to what their bodies both craved.
When he took another step back, Alice gasped, tilting off balance without him. He took her hand and led her to her bedroll, finishing the work she’d started with her skirt. Without words, they continued undressing each other until there was nothing between them. Then Jarvis drew her down to lie on her bedroll, exposed to him, and him to her.
“I want to look at you this time,” he said, his smile sultry.
Alice couldn’t find words to reply, especially when he raked his fingers gently from her collar, around her breast, across her stomach and abdomen, and down to the thatch of curls between her legs. She could only sigh and shiver with the pleasure of it, her core aching for release.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he whispered, hoarse with affection. “I don’t think I could ever get enough of touching you.”
To prove his point, he smoothed his hand up along her quivering belly to capture her breast. The sensation of his hand, hot and possessive, squeezing and weighing her, left Alice panting for more. Her breasts felt heavy and sensitive as he raked his thumb across her nipple, working it to a hard point. Once he had, he bent to suckle her.
She moaned and jerked at the glorious sensation, threading her fingers through his hair. He nipped and sucked, teasing her with his tongue while his hand cradled her. The sensations he evoked in her were so powerful that she gasped, inching her legs apart so that she could press her hips against his. She writhed against him impatiently.
Jarvis met her eagerness with a low laugh that sent tingles through her. He switched to treat her other breast to the same beautiful torment he’d given the first one. While he laved and suckled her other breast, he gently pinched her first nipple. She cried out at that burst of sensuality, arching her back and sliding her thighs up to his hips. If he didn’t fill her soon, she would crumble into starlight.
“You’re so passionate,” he whispered, kissing her breast, then trailing more kisses across her belly. “You show that passion so freely. It makes me wild.”
She gasped as he crossed a sensitive spot on her abdomen, then sighed aloud as his fingertips played along her thighs. He shifted, and his kisses continued lower, closer and closer to the part of her that was burning for him. She knew what was coming, anticipated it by letting her knees drop to the side and lifting an arm above her head. She was spread in the most wanton position, naked, nipples hard and pink from being teased, open to him and wet with desire, but not a bit of her cared.
He slipped his fingers between her folds, and she whimpered with need. He too growled with want, but when he parted her folds to lay bare the aching nub of her sex, he paused. The rush of cooler air against that hot part of her sent ripples of desire sizzling through her, and when he blew directly against her, she cried out.
“What do you want?” he whispered, studying the exposed part of her without touching.
She wanted that touch, needed it, but she was beyond speech.
“Tell me what you want me to do,” he said.
She swallowed, hips writhing even as he tried to hold them still. There were so many things that she wanted that none of them would form into words. Her need and the ache that accompanied it pulsed harder and harder as he did nothing, only hovered there where she
could barely feel his breath against her.
“I want….” It had never been harder to speak. “I want your mouth on me,” she said at last, pressing her hips up against his grip as she did. “I want you to make me come.”
She had no idea she could be so shameless, but when he did as she asked and brought his mouth down to kiss that part of her, then raked his tongue over her, overpowering bolts of pleasure coursed through her, and she lost all thought. She writhed against him as he stroked with his tongue in patient, steady circles. It was so good that the intensity of emotion welling up in her brought tears to her eyes.
Faster than she wanted it to, the pleasure he gave her mounted to the breaking point. He teased a finger against the wetness of her entrance, and as soon as he thrust it inside of her, she broke. She cried out with the intensity of her orgasm, letting the pure bliss of it radiate from her throbbing core through her entire body. Jarvis hummed with her, continuing his mouth’s work until her tremors began to subside. Then he kissed his way back up the length of her body to her mouth.
She accepted his kiss readily, but her hands sought out his erection. He shuddered when she closed her hand around him and stroked.
“Come inside of me,” she whispered, feeling as wicked as some pagan goddess. “Take your pleasure from me.”
Jarvis’s only response was to growl as though her wish was his command, and to let Alice guide him to her entrance. He tested the tip of his staff against her, teasing with enough pressure to entice her, but not entering. Her body flared to full passion again, and when at last, he pushed inside of her, slow enough that she felt every inch of him join with her, she was right back at the verge of bursting.
The time for teasing was over. Jarvis withdrew slowly, then thrust into her with abandon. Alice gasped and dug her fingers into his back as he transformed from the slave of her passion to a man who knew what he wanted and was powerful enough to take it. He crashed into her with increasing speed and depth, harder and fuller, until she was at the mercy of anything he wanted to take from her. It was beautiful, it was perfect. The demanding sounds that escaped from him as he claimed her filled her with longing to the point where she burst into bliss once more. She was his in every way, body and soul.
With a guttural cry, Jarvis tensed, burying himself deep. He let out a breath, then continued to rock into her with diminishing energy. At last, he stopped, still buried deep inside of her, and rested against her. They lay there, panting and joined, in the open, the night air caressing them. The sounds of their spent passion blended with the sounds of nature, as if they’d completed some ancient fertility rite to bless the fields.
Alice did feel blessed, in so many ways. Her body still sang with the joy of the pleasure she and Jarvis had shared, a pleasure she chose. She was alive, and the mistress of her own life once more.
Chapter Seventeen
It occurred to Jarvis that he should feel guilty about being carried away by his passions for the second time in two nights. He felt responsible, yes, but guilt was the farthest thing from his thoughts. Alice was beautiful and sensual, and as the first fingers of dawn spread up into the sky on the eastern horizon, as early birdsong filled the plain near the stream, he still held her close. She hadn’t run or pushed him away. He dared to think that maybe, just maybe, she was his now.
The peace that settled over the two of them as Jarvis slowly blinked sleep away was warmer than anything he deserved. Then again, why should he not deserve to be happy? His father was probably sitting in their family’s pristine drawing room, if he was even up yet, grumbling over his errant son who had gone off on a path he didn’t approve of, but Jarvis didn’t need his father’s approval. All he needed was Alice.
The joyful noise of the early morning shook her out of sleep as well. She stretched and sighed, her body moving against his, sending fresh waves of desire swirling through him. He knew the exact moment when she became fully awake. She gasped and tensed, but then stretched her hand over his chest, over his heart. Whether she was his or not yet, he was definitely hers.
“Good morning,” he whispered into the predawn. He couldn’t quite see her, but his heart and his body told him what his eyes couldn’t see.
“Good morning,” she answered, relaxed.
Jarvis didn’t want to say anything else. Words would only complicate things. All he wanted was to lie in Alice’s arms and wait for the sun to come up on a brand new day. Alice stretched and curled against him like a kitten.
“I guess we should—”
Her whisper was cut off by a thump on the other side of the stream.
Both of them tensed, Alice pressing closer to him, and listened. Anything could have made a sound like that. Anything could be anybody, and if anybody found them as they were, naked, disheveled, and in each other’s arms, there would be questions at the very least. It was still mostly dark, though. Jarvis twisted to see if their clothes were within reach as Alice listened.
Another thump sounded, this time followed by a whispered curse.
Alice gasped, hunkering farther under the thin blanket of her bedroll. Jarvis doubled his efforts to look for their clothes. He would have gladly faced whoever was there stark naked, but he couldn’t let Alice stumble into scandal.
At last, his hand brushed cloth, his trousers. He pulled them on, then, giving Alice a quick kiss, crawled out of the bedroll to search for his shirt and Alice’s clothes. As he found her skirt and passed it back to her, a loud creak sounded from the other side of the stream.
“Dammit,” a voice whispered. Franklin’s voice.
Jarvis’s pulse kicked up a notch. He scrambled to find the rest of Alice’s clothes and handed them to her. The sun was inching closer and closer to rising. Light was pouring into the work site at an alarming rate. Jarvis could make out more than just outlines in the dimness. If he could see things, he and Alice could be seen.
“That sneaky bitch,” Franklin grumbled on the other side of the stream. He had found the wagon of fence rails that Ginny had driven across a narrow section of the stream and parked next to her fence late yesterday afternoon. “That nasty cheater.”
Jarvis stifled a humorless laugh and found his shirt. Franklin was the last person who should be pointing fingers for cheating. In fact, chances were that he was here now, before dawn, to cheat again. It would have been a treat to jump up and stop him, but Jarvis couldn’t risk that without risking Alice’s reputation.
He crawled back to the bedroll, where Alice was busy dressing under the blanket.
“It’s Franklin,” he whispered.
“I know,” Alice replied. She had her blouse on but not buttoned, and was working on the clasp at the back of her skirt. “What’s he doing here?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Jarvis said.
“And I can guess.” She didn’t sound any happier about it than he did.
More light filled the eastern horizon. In addition to the outlines of trees and hills and fences, Jarvis could make out colors now. The chatter of morning birds grew louder, as did the rattling and thumping from the wagon of rails.
“What is he doing?” Alice whispered, emerging from the bedroll. She looked as though she’d tumbled down a mountain and hit every boulder on the way, but at least she was clothed.
Her glance fell on his bare chest, and she smiled. The light in her eyes could have illuminated the entire frontier. She licked her lips and her hands twitched as though she wanted to touch him. A jolt of heat swept through Jarvis, settling in his groin. He couldn’t help but chuckle, then did the sensible thing and put his shirt on at last.
“Who’s there?” Franklin called from the wagon on the other side of the stream. Jarvis’s chuckle must have been too loud. “Alice?”
Jarvis and Alice exchanged a quick look of urgency as they stood frozen to their spot.
“Alice, are you awake?” Franklin tried again.
He shifted. Jarvis could see his features as he stood atop the wagon. Franklin searched the sce
ne. He found Jarvis and Alice and jerked in surprise. Then he fell.
Everything happened in the space of a heartbeat. As Franklin tumbled, he dislodged the top few fence rails that he stood on. They, in turn, disturbed the others. Like a waterfall, fence rails split the side of the old wagon and spilled out, and with them, Franklin. He shouted in fear, then in pain as he pitched forward, thumping to the ground. The avalanche of fence rails crashed down on top of him, and his cries abruptly stopped.
“Oh no,” Alice gasped. Heedless of how she looked, she picked up her skirts and ran toward the wagon.
Jarvis ran with her, jumping over the stream and getting ahead of her. They raced to circle around the side of the wagon. The pile of rails was scattered like giant matchsticks dumped on a table. All they could see of Franklin was one outstretched hand, cut and bleeding.
“We have to move the rails,” Jarvis said, no longer concerned about being seen or heard. “But we have to do it carefully. We can’t let any of the others fall on him.”
“Right.” Alice nodded and danced around the pile, looking for rails she could move safely.
Jarvis crouched to see if he could make out where Franklin’s head was, how the young man had fallen. Franklin was lucky enough to have only one rail covering his head and a few others balanced over that one. He went to work, removing those rails as slowly and gently as he could while Alice shifted rails off of Franklin’s legs.
By the time Jarvis had Franklin’s head uncovered, the sun was over the horizon and light poured into the work site. It was a blessing. The more he could see what he was doing, the less likely Franklin was to be further hurt.
“Franklin,” he called out, pressing his fingers to Franklin’s neck to find a pulse. “Franklin, wake up. Wake up.”
“Is he alive?” Alice asked, voice shaky.
