Luke's Cut

by Sarah McCarty

  She shook her head. “No, I don’t think they are.”

  Curiosity wouldn’t let it rest. “How did you save it?”

  “Before I opened the ether, I tucked it up under my dress.”

  “You managed to get a lot under that dress.”

  “That reminds me, thank you for forbidding me to wear a corset.”

  With the softness of her breasts against him, he didn’t have to lie. “That was my pleasure.”

  He felt along her back. “So where is it?”

  “Doc took it for me.” She wrinkled her nose. “It’s not the most comfortable to lie on.”

  “I want to see it.”

  “I’m not ready.”

  “Why?”

  She scooted out of his lap. “Stop asking so many questions.”

  He caught her wrist. “Stop giving me orders.”

  “Is this a private argument or can anyone join in?”

  Josie pushed to her feet. The tatters of her dress hung about her stockinged legs. Luke had a choice to force her to stay or to let her go. He let her go.

  “No, we’re done,” he said, then slowly got to his feet. Running his fingers through his hair, he watched Josie all but dive into the circle of horses surrounding Sam. Reinforcements had arrived. Dammit he felt naked without his Stetson. “Anyone ever tell you your timing sucks, Sam?”

  “Nope. Can’t say they have.”

  “Well, let me be the first.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  SEVEN HOURS LATER, the story had been retold repeatedly, and with each new telling came a new twist and a new perspective. Thankfully, Bella hadn’t gone into labor while they were gone, and the doc had time to settle in. The excitement was behind them for now, and yet Josie couldn’t relax, still unsure of what she wanted to do about Luke.

  Standing on the porch and looking out into the velvety darkness, temptation slid beneath her weariness. The night sky, spotted with stars and a sliver of moon, gave off very little light, offering the perfect cover if a woman was foolish enough to pay a night visit to a man. If she were so inclined, she could sneak across the yard to the barn and find that room in the back that Luke called his…

  Everyone was either asleep or busy with their own agendas. There’d be no one to stop her. No one to see. No one to shove it in her face come morning.

  She’d thrown everything—everything—away today. Her dreams. Her hope. Her pride. Even though she liked to say there was no choice to make, the minute she’d looked over that cliff and seen Luke in trouble, she’d made one. In the intervening hours, the question hadn’t become whether it was right, but more what was she going to do about it now?

  God had thrown a gift right in front of her, A big man. A strong man. A man with a heart of gold. A man who’d been prepared to give his life for her more than once. A man who did it without question. Who saw it as his duty. So why couldn’t she take that step off the porch?

  She was scared. Luke wasn’t in her life plan. There’d be no freedom with him, but almost dying had a way of making a woman reevaluate her short-term goals. And one thing was clear, to her at least, and had become clearer with every mile she’d clung to Luke on the ride back to the ranch—she didn’t want to die without knowing what loving Luke was like.

  Gathering the lightweight shawl around her shoulders, she stepped off the porch. The barn was a good thirty feet away, plenty of space for something—a sign she was making a mistake—to stop her. Her heart beat loudly in her ears. Her respirations came in short pants. She licked her dry lips, waiting, waiting, waiting for any omen to stop her from this foolishness, but nothing happened and she arrived at the barn, her presence unchallenged.

  She walked around the side. The shadows were deeper here, forcing her to trail her fingers along the side. The thought of spiders made her cringe but she couldn’t take her fingers off the side. The man damn well better be worth it. Just when she began to think the spider potential was the omen she’d been hoping for, the side door opened and a familiar silhouette stepped into the light pouring into the yard.

  “Josie?”

  Luke’s deep drawl only heightened her anticipation. She froze, breathless, unable to take those last few steps.

  “Hi.”

  A smile she couldn’t see was clear in his voice as he held out his hand. “Come here, my darlin’.”

  She did love it when he said that in just that way. It sent all the butterflies deep in her stomach fleeing for cover. She took another breath and measured the distance. Three steps. Just three steps to take his hand. Three steps to be in his arms. Three steps to have what she wanted. “I can’t.”

  A cock of his head prefaced his “Why not?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You were coming here to see me.”

  It wasn’t a question and somehow that made it easier. “Yes.”

  “And now that you’ve seen me, you’ve gotten your fill?”

  Neither one of them believed that.

  “I think I’m scared.”

  “Scared of what?”

  She liked that he didn’t drop his hand, just kept the offer open while she talked her way through this. “Of where this can go.”

  The words came out in more of a breathless rush than she intended.

  “Why?”

  She shrugged. “It’s not part of my plan.”

  “Have I ever mentioned that I really don’t like your plan?”

  She nodded. “You’re not alone. It’s a common reaction.”

  “And yet you continue to present it as a good idea?”

  “I know. I can get stuck on the logic—”

  He cut her off. “And this is all about feeling.”

  And that scared her to death. “Yes.”

  In the end, he was the one who bridged the gap. What would have taken her three steps only took him two. He towered over her in the dark, blocking the light, absorbing her into his shadow so completely she could no longer see, but she could smell, and he smelled of soap and that unique essence that was only him.

  “What do you want, Josie?”

  “I want you.”

  “For how long?”

  “I don’t know?”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know?”

  “Why?”

  That she could answer. “Because without you, I don’t think I can breathe.”

  His clothing rustled as he moved. The back of his fingers touched her cheek, slid across. His hand turned, and those fingers wove though her hair, curving around her skull, pulling her up and into the softness of his kiss.

  How could such a strong, hard man kiss so softly?

  “Good answer,” he whispered into her mouth.

  Was it? It seemed like the worst answer possible. A woman who acted on emotion was a woman who ended up with nothing. Or so she’d thought, but this wasn’t nothing. The warmth of Luke’s embrace. The tenderness in his kiss, the security of his presence. When she was here, surrounded by this, it was everything, and all the pieces that she worried about, all the questions she had, they fell into place with an answer that made complete sense.

  “Yes.” The answer was always yes with Luke.

  Yes to the passion. Yes to the joy. Yes to the potential, but mostly yes to the completion, because here in Luke’s arms she was complete in a way she couldn’t define, in a way she’d never dreamed possible. Complete maybe even in the way her mother had always searched for. It was illusion and strength at once, and she needed it. She needed him. For how long, that she didn’t know, but right now she needed him. Above her he froze, just for a heartbeat, but as close as they were, so entwined that his breath was hers, she couldn’t miss the reality. This was truth. This was them together.

  “Say it again,” he growled.

  “I need you.”

  She could feel the disappointment in him. Had he wanted more? She didn’t have any more to give right now. Her world was in turmoil. The entire foundation of everything in which she believed was
up in the air. Her carefully crafted plans for the future were all but gone. This was new territory, but she was venturing forth willingly.

  He took a step backward. She followed. She hadn’t lied when she said she trusted him. She didn’t need to know what was under her feet, because he would never let her fall. She knew that, too.

  “I’m not going to ask you if you’re sure.”

  It was her turn to say “Good.”

  His lips brushed the top of her head. “You’re not even going to ask me why?”

  “Does it matter?”

  She felt his smile. “No.”

  “I can tell you where we’re going right now.”

  “Where?” She had a good idea.

  “My bed.”

  A little thrill of forbidden lust went through her, but then she smiled because it didn’t have to be forbidden. She was committing the sin of her mother, and she didn’t even care.

  The door closed softly behind them. And then it was him and her in the candlelit bedroom.

  “Were you expecting me?”

  His lips twitched at the corner. “Will you slap me if I say yes?”

  Would she? Poking and prodding that little feeling, she came to a realization. “No. I’m comfortable with your understanding me.”

  “No defenses?”

  “Not between us.”

  His arm around her back pulled her close. “Good.”

  But he had defenses against her. She could feel it. There were walls in place that she couldn’t cross, but she couldn’t blame him because what was she offering him? Even she didn’t know, but he was going take whatever it was and he was going to make it good. Because that was who he was and that was the man she wanted to make happy. The man who was always there for everyone else. The man who’d been there for her. Since the day she’d met him, he’d been putting himself between her and danger, prepared to give his life for hers, willing to give his everything. No, that wasn’t right. Happiness. He was willing to give her happiness, and she was willing to take it. She leaned back.

  He frowned down at her. “What is it?”

  She should say she couldn’t do it. She wanted to be as good as him, but she didn’t because something inside kept saying yes. Yes to being selfish. Yes to taking what he was giving. Yes to following where he led. Yes to this path for which she’d been searching.

  “I want to say the words.”

  “Are you telling me to stop?”

  “For a moment.”

  “Damn.”

  As was his habit, his hand cupped her cheek, guiding her through the commitment she was afraid to make even if it wasn’t forever. Even if it was just for now, she had to say the words. “Make love to me, Luke. Please.”

  She expected his sense of humor to kick in, for that knowing smile to spread across his face and that tone to invade his voice, but he didn’t say anything at all. As if he knew about the chaos fluttering about her insides, he opened his hand across the small of her back. Without a word, he left it there. The warmth permeated her skin, anchoring her in that moment, in that place. She released the breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding. His thumb slid across her cheek and settled over her lips. She loved it when he did that. The possessiveness fed her emotions on a deeply primitive level.

  “I’ve got you.”

  Yes. “I know.”

  “Good.”

  Holding his gaze, she tasted him in a quick flick. He tasted of man and salt. It was a hint of what was to come. His eyebrows rose and his mouth softened.

  “I like that.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Good. There’s just one thing about tonight, my darlin’.”

  Holding his gaze, she bit his thumb. His eyes darkened and narrowed.

  “A condition?”

  “Yes.”

  “What?”

  “You don’t get to speak.”

  “But I want to.”

  Slipping his thumb between her lips, he corrected, “You want me.”

  “Words make it easier.” The protest came out muffled. It was hard to speak around his thumb.

  He smoothed the moisture over her lips, preparing her. With a shake of his head he negated her protest. “This isn’t about words. This is about emotion. Strong, powerful, unpredictable emotion.”

  “That’s not my strong suit.”

  “But it is mine.” The calloused pads of his fingers caressed the nape of her neck. Goose bumps jumped across her skin, sending a shiver down her spine.

  “Tell me you want this.”

  “I thought we weren’t using words?”

  He waltzed her two steps back toward the bed. The mattress hit the back of her thighs. She teetered. He smiled. Slipping his fingers under the edge of her shawl, he gave it a tug. It tumbled to the floor, leaving her standing before him in nothing but her robe and nightgown. Fingering the soft cotton tie just above her breast, he drawled, “Take down your hair.”

  As she started pulling the pins that held her bun in place, he started pulling at the bows that held her robe together. One by one, the pins hit the floor. One by one the bows unraveled. Her hair fell past her shoulders as her robe pooled at her feet. Only her sheer nightgown covered her nakedness.

  “Beautiful.”

  She felt beautiful, and vulnerable, and that only increased the desire unfurling deep within. This man really did know what he was doing.

  With a slight push on her shoulders, he toppled her onto the softness of the featherbed. He came down over her, bracing himself on his elbows, surrounding her with warmth, pinning her with his weight. Softness below and hardness above. Heaven no matter which way she turned. His fingers threaded between hers, anchoring her hands beside her head.

  Oh how she loved that smile. She loved his kiss even more. The mating of his lips to hers, the shifting of pressure, the thrusting possession… The passion. Dear heavens, the passion.

  Clinging to his hands, she rolled with the need, letting it toss her this way and that, learning it, nurturing it. Catching her lower lip between his teeth, he bit gently. He took her moan as his, giving it back when she arched up. Pinned she was, she couldn’t do anything but take what he gave…and that was everything. That was a lifeline. That was her security. That was her goal. To have him. Complete him. As much as she wanted. As much as she could take.

  Twisting beneath him, she gasped as he kissed the side of her neck, set his teeth on the taut cord and bit ever so gently. Lightning stroked through her body, jerking her up against him. His laugh blended with the fire before settling with a pulsing throb in her clit. The throb spread up and out, peaking in her breasts, lingering in her pussy. And she couldn’t do anything except take and take and take, all that he gave her in such abundance, but it wasn’t enough.

  “More,” she whispered as he kissed his way to the hollow of her throat. She held her breath as he tasted her with his tongue, released it as he worked his way back up the other side, holding it again as he drew the sensitive skin between his lips and sucked, holding it until goose bumps chased shivers.

  As she arched, he growled. “Yes.”

  His teeth found her earlobe. The tiny sensual pain ripped through her, tearing at defenses she didn’t know that she had. She wanted him to take her, to teach her, to lay her bare. Emotionally, figuratively and, yes, in actuality, too.

  “That’s right,” he encouraged against her cheek as she arched against him. “Show me what you want. Give me your passion.”

  Turning her head, she bit at his lips. He laughed and gave her more. Opening his mouth against hers, kissing her so deeply her breath chased away. Digging her fingernails into the back of his hand, she leaned into the press of his cock against her thigh. So close, but she needed more.

  Bringing her hand to his mouth, he kissed the back. “You’re wearing too many clothes, my darlin’.”

  He wanted her naked. Oh, that was a big step. She’d never been naked in front of anyone before.

  “This might be the part where
I go screaming into the night.”

  The confession hung between them. So did his “Why?”

  “What if you don’t like what you see?”

  “I love what I see.”

  He kept using that word.

  Taking the hand he’d just kissed, he brought it to the front of her dress. “Show me.”

  It was the most erotic thing anyone had ever said to her. It was also the most terrifying.

  A series of dainty buttons was all that was stood between him and her modesty. The first button was the hardest. Try as she might, she couldn’t make herself slide it through the hole. The longer it took, the more unsure she became, while he just leaned back on his elbow watching her, his eyes dark blue in the flickering light. Not for the first time was she reminded of a lion surveying his prey.

  “Do you want help?”

  “No.” She could do this. “Just don’t look.”

  “Oh. I’m looking.” And he was. Quietly. Intently.

  She got three buttons undone before her courage ran dry.

  His “Good girl” curled her toes but did nothing to replenish the well.

  As if he knew, he asked, “Mind if I take over from here?”

  “Please.”

  With light skimming touches, he parted the material, revealing the upper curves of her breasts. She remembered how he’d touched them before. Made them ache. More buttons gave. His hand slipped beneath. She squeaked.

  “Beautiful.”

  The warm air felt cool on her overheated flesh as he pushed the material aside. “Very beautiful.”

  He was looking at her. Air seemed to still in her lungs. He trailed his index finger between her breasts. “Breathe, Josie.”

  She’d forgotten how.

  His finger under her chin turned her face to his. Emotions she couldn’t read darkened his eyes and softened his lips. “I’ve got you.”

  “Are you sure?”

  That got her a smile. “And I won’t let go.”

  It was all too easy to remember the terror of the tornado. The threat of the bandits. He’d held her then.

  “Promise?”

  Cupping her breast in his hand, he nodded. “Always.”

  With a sigh, she relaxed. More buttons gave as he traced their lead, following the path down over her collarbone, between her breasts, over her stomach and then lower. Her breath caught as his fingers tangled in the tight curls he found. With a tug, he centered the jumble of unfocused sensation within. The ache blossomed.