Lipstick and Lead Series: The Complete Box Set With a Bonus Book

by Sylvia McDaniel

  Warm feelings overwhelmed him at her words. Tears sprang into his eyes and he had to blink to keep them from falling. No one ever understood. Yet, Annabelle recognized his pain, his predicament.

  “As long as I don’t let people know who my family is, I’m usually all right. But it’s also why I don’t have a lot of close friends. I have acquaintances. They know who I am, but not who I really am.”

  She leaned onto his arm and hugged him. “You should become a farmer. I think you’d enjoy being settled and not on the constant run to acquire more money.”

  “We’ll see,” he said. “First, I have to prove to the state they really don’t want to hang me.”

  His fingers touched her silky hair. He wanted to put his lips over hers again, but knew that wouldn’t be wise.

  “I think I’m going to turn in,” she said and moved over to the blankets she’d set up in the dark.

  He wanted nothing more than to join her in those blankets, instead of out here in the cold, with no fire to warm him. And yet, he didn’t dare try to insist on laying next to her. She’d probably shoot him.

  “As long as you act like a gentleman, you can share the bedroll with me tonight. It’s cold and you’ll sleep better. We both could use a decent night’s sleep.”

  Beau smiled, he didn’t know for certain how much sleep he would get, but he was freezing without a fire. The thought of cuddling around Annabelle’s sweet body was a temptation that he couldn’t deny.

  “I’m freezing,” he said and hurried over to his blankets beside her. Quickly, he crawled inside and wrapped his arms around her. “Now this is nice.”

  She was silent and did not respond and he could feel her shivers slowing. “You were freezing as well.”

  “Yeah, it’s cold tonight. Feels like winter is determined to return.”

  He took a deep breath and breathed in her essence. She smelled of peaches and a soft womanly smell that reminded him of the comfort and safety of home, not the hostile months before the Civil War or the aftermath and all the tensions and destruction.

  Being with Annabelle made him realize everything he missed and how leaving Missouri, he’d run from everything. His family, their reputation, his own demons. And lying here beside Annabelle, he wanted his life to return to normalcy.

  Didn’t he deserve happiness? Didn’t he deserve to have a home and family, one that was not riddled with strife and anger and violence?

  He shuddered at the memory of Jesse and his band of cutthroats. That was not the kind of life he wanted for himself or anyone else he hitched his wagon to. Annabelle snuggled up against him and he sighed. This feeling of a woman wrapped in his arms, warming his body, heating his soul was something he could get used to. Not just a woman, but Annabelle.

  “You’re not shaking any longer,” he said, his voice coming out husky and deep and filled with desire for this gorgeous woman cocooning with him.

  “No,” she said, her voice quivering. “I’m feeling very warm, maybe I should crawl out for awhile. You know sit up and gaze at the sky.”

  He chuckled. “Go to sleep, Annabelle. I’ll watch over you tonight, keep you warm and safe in my arms. Nothing's going to happen between the two of us that you don’t want.”

  She sighed. “That’s the bad thing…you make me crave things I know I shouldn’t want.”

  Unable to resist any longer, he kissed the back of her neck, his mouth warm and insistent on her flesh. A shiver rippled through her.

  “Things like that?” he whispered, knowing he affected her just as much as she was getting to him.

  “Yeah, stop that so we can both get some sleep.”

  “Kiss me, goodnight,” he said against her hair.

  “Oh no, I can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because that kiss would last all night. And I’m not ready for that.”

  Chapter 9

  All the next day a wall of tension existed between her and Beau. They didn’t have that easy teasing and bantering going between them that had been there before. In fact, he seemed more on edge than ever and the nearer they got to the Red River, the more withdrawn he became. Where once he would have regaled her with stories and ribbed her, now he answered in one syllable answers. Short and to the point and she was just about sick of it.

  They’d spent the night wrapped up in each other’s arms and she had to do everything in her power to keep from rolling over and saying, ‘just get on with it and take me here and now on the cold hard ground.’

  She wanted him like nothing ever before but knew it was crazy. Making love with Beau would be taking a huge risk that could leave her heartbroken. He was wanted for a hanging offense and yet, every day she liked Beau just a little more. He wasn’t a cold-blooded killer like she’d imagined. In fact, he seemed the exact opposite.

  And as for Jesses James being his half-brother, they couldn’t be more different. Or so it seemed, but then could she really know the truth about his brother? Was he really a cold-blooded killer or a man whose reputation had been built on lies and half-truths?

  Wind whipped up trail dirt, slinging dust at her face. She ducked her head trying to keep as much out of her eyes as possible. Clouds were beginning to form and it looked like they were going to have to endure yet another downpour . All day the air felt like it was dripping with steamy water.

  The air almost hissed with heat from the sun.

  “Nothing like springtime in Texas,” she said, clearing the dust from her face.

  “Feels like it could storm,” Beau said.

  The tension between them was a result of sleeping side-by-side last night and waking with his arms wrapped around her. The sensation was wonderful and frightening and aroused thoughts of what could happen between the two of them.

  Behind them, in the west, she noticed that the clouds were building, turning dark. The thought of riding out a thunderstorm with no shelter, frightened her. She looked around the wooded area and saw no place to hide. The land had flattened out and, while trees and brush were plentiful, there was no place to get out of the weather.

  “I think I’m missing that cave right about now.”

  Beau glanced at the skies behind them and frowned. “That’s not good. That one cloud is low and heavy looking. Keep an eye out for a farm. We might need to hole up until after this storm passes.”

  “And if we don’t find a farm?”

  “Then we’ll be getting wet,” he said.

  A resounding boom rattled the air around them and she noticed that the birds were no longer chirping. In fact, they were no longer flying and seemed to have disappeared.

  The wind died down and suddenly the air felt still and oppressive. Almost crackly with energy.

  “We need to locate a shelter,” Beau said, glancing around at the sky again.

  The clouds were traveling faster than they were and Beau picked up speed. Even the horses seemed to suddenly understand that a storm was coming and were anxious to get out of the weather’s path.

  Lightning crackled behind them and she noticed the sky was changing colors, turning a sick green.

  “Those clouds look like they could contain some hail,” she said worriedly.

  “Yeah, come on, let’s push the horses. We need to find shelter or we’re going to get pummeled,” he said.

  They started to gallop across the fields rushing to some unknown destination, hoping they could find a place to get out of the weather.

  “There,” Beau said and pointed to a building in the distance.

  Just then the wind slammed into them and her horse whinnied in alarm. “Come on,” she said as the wind threw dirt, swirling and pulling at them from all directions.

  She glanced behind her and her heart leaped into her throat, causing her to choke on the fear that bubbled up. A funnel cloud dipped down from the sky towards the earth.

  “Beau,” she screamed.

  He glanced behind at her, his eyes growing large. “Come on.”

  They spurr
ed their horses running them at a full gallop, pushing as fast as they could toward the farm house. What couldn’t have been a quarter mile away seemed to take forever. Racing across the prairie, her heart pounded with fear, her ears popped as the wind howled.

  Once they reached the house, Beau flung himself off his horse and slapped it on the rump. It took off running. When Annabelle reached the house, he helped her alight and then sent her horse running.

  “But our horses,” she cried over the noise of the wind.

  “They’ll take care of themselves,” he said.

  The funnel was now dancing on the ground churning and eating everything in its path racing towards them. They were standing directly in its path, its tail sweeping across the prairie gobbling up everything in its way.

  He grabbed her by the hand and pulled her towards the back of the house. “Come on, let’s hope they have a root cellar.”

  They ran between the barn and the house. The tin roof groaned, struggling against the pull of the wind. Just when she thought they would have to take shelter in the house, Beau located the root cellar.

  He opened the door and shoved her inside. He flung himself inside the darkened underground cellar and pulled the door closed, latching it against the wind with a wooden two by four that they could only hope would hold. Quickly he lit a lantern and hung it from a hook. In the corner of the shelter there was a bed.

  The noise grew louder and louder like the sound of a thousand trains roaring overhead and the ground beneath them trembled.

  “Beau,” she screamed and he wrapped his arms around her holding her tight against his chest.

  They were going to die. The wind was going to suck them up into the funnel. Her entire body shook, her heart pounding inside her chest like she was running for her life.

  “It’s okay,” he said, and held onto her tightly as the earth around them shuddered and a fine mist of dirt showered over them. The door on the cellar shook and rattled and they stepped as far back into the cellar as they could go.

  “It’s going to break,” she screamed. They were going to die down here in this cellar, where no one would ever know they were. Their bodies would never be found and she would never see her sisters again. She wanted with all her heart to go back to that day in the bank and return home to the place she loved.

  “No, sugar, it’s okay.” His hands soothed her, coming to her face as he gently pushed her hair away from her face.

  The noise increased and he held onto her tightly, his mouth covered hers, his lips silencing the scream that had been ready to explode from her mouth. He placed his hands over her ears, as he held her head in place and ravished her mouth with his lips.

  Tense, she held onto his shoulders, gripping him tightly, like she never wanted to let him go. Fearful that the wind would suck them out of their hiding place, knowing she would cling to him as long as she could before they were torn apart.

  If she was going to die, she wanted Beau holding her when they went.

  Terrified, she felt them falling. They landed on a soft bed and her arms immediately went around his neck and she held onto him. Pulling her mouth away from his, she asked, “Is it over?”

  “I think so,” he said, his breathing harsh.

  “I was so scared,” she said her heart beating rapidly inside her chest, her limbs quaking.

  “Me too,” he replied, holding onto her like he would never let her go. His lips moved over hers again and he kissed her like it was their last. His lips moved over hers ravaging her and she met his fervor and gripped his body close to hers. She needed him. For the last four days she’d depended on him, she’d aided him and she’d fought him, but right this moment she required him like her next breath.

  With her hands, she pushed open his shirt, wanting to touch his skin, feel his chest. For the last four days, they’d lived on the edge running from the Harris gang, tornadoes and this incessant need for each other. No more. She wanted him and she wanted him now.

  If she was going to die on this journey, she wanted Beau before she took her last breath.

  She ran her hands over the feel of his hard chest muscles, his flesh rippling beneath her touch while his lips continued their assault on her. Her breathing was labored and an ache began between her legs.

  Their lips broke apart. “God, I want you so much,” he said his hands caressing her head. “We can’t.”

  She pushed him to his back and rolled on top of him. “We’re alive.”

  “Yes,” he said breathlessly, wrapping his arms around her. “Annabelle.”

  “Stop talking and show me what it feels like to make love.”

  Pulling out of his arms, she raised up and unbuttoned her dress, pulling it over her head while sitting on his body. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, pumping blood through her veins and she knew she was taking a risk, but she didn’t care. She was alive, she was breathing and tomorrow this could all come to an end.

  “Every day spent with you could be my last,” she whispered.

  Rain and hail pounded on the roof of the root cellar as she stared into his emerald eyes, glassy, shining with a fire that drew her to his flame. A shudder rippled through her at the knowledge of the chances she was taking, knowing she could die at any moment and willing to accept whatever risks their joining brought.

  Frantically, before she could change her mind, she pulled his shirt out of his pants. While he undid the buttons, she pulled the garment from his body. When the shirt was removed, he reached up and grabbed her head, bringing her lips to his again. His lips conveyed a message of desire and longing and oh, sweet Jesus, want. She opened her mouth greedily, accepting his unspoken acknowledgment of passion. Her blood was flowing through her veins faster than when the tornado was spinning on top of them.

  Their lips broke apart and he placed his mouth on her neck as he nibbled softly to the curve of her shoulder. “Are you sure?”

  “Shut up and love me,” she whispered in the glow of the lantern. Frightened and thankful to be alive, she knew for certain that at this moment, she needed Beau.

  Lifting her chemise, he tugged the garment over her head, exposing her breasts.

  “Oh God,” he said as he lowered his mouth to her puckered nipple, tenderly sucking the tiny bud. A burst of fire flooded her and she gasped, throwing her head back, arching her chest towards his mouth. The sensation flooded her with desire for this man, an outlaw with a despicable reputation and a gentle, kind soul.

  His hand gripped her breast as his tongue lavished her nub, filling her with a sweet ache that seemed to radiate all the way to her toes. He flipped her onto her back. He rose from the bed where they had fallen and quickly shucked his pants, his boots.

  When he stood, even in the gloom, she could see him in all his naked glory. His manhood jutted out from his body like a weapon looking for a shield.

  “So that’s what a naked man looks like,” she said softly.

  He laughed, then reached down and untied her boots. They fell to the ground with a clunk as he slid her stockings down her legs. His fingers reached for her pantaloons and she lifted her hips to help him remove the garment.

  Laying naked before his eyes for a moment she doubted her decision. His gaze traveled over her breasts, her hips and then back.

  “You’re beautiful, just like I imagined.”

  She was giving herself to an outlaw, a man with a tortured past, a man with no future. Yet, she couldn’t deny that she wanted him worse than she wanted her next breath. She needed Beau, if only for this moment.

  He crawled up on the mattress beside her, until they lay side by side, their naked skin touching. His lips covered hers once again and the heat that had been simmering burst inside of her like an explosion of fire, sizzling her from her head to her toes.

  Annabelle ached to touch him, to feel his skin beneath her fingertips. She reached out and trailed her fingers down his face, to his chest, feeling the hardened muscles beneath her touch. His muscles rippled beneath her
strokes and she slid her fingers all the way down his waist to his shaft.

  His hand wrapped her fingers around his cock and he moved her hand up and down. She gripped his erection, touching the tip, feeling the bulbous head on the end of his shaft.

  She’d never seen a man’s penis before, let alone touch one. For a moment she was in awe of the power and the strength in his erection.

  At the touch of his fingers between her legs, she gasped at the zing of feelings that radiated from her center. She moaned as his fingers caressed her intimately, touching her like she’d never been touched, creating a need she’d never experienced before. He stroked her until she was wet with want and filled with a raging desire that had her arching against his hand.

  His lips covered hers, raking the inside of her mouth with his tongue teasing and dancing, retreating and withdrawing while he shifted his body over the top of hers.

  She knew what came next, had dreamed of being with the right man. But this man was only the right man for the moment and she didn’t know if she would live to see tomorrow. She needed Beau and she needed him now.

  He guided his penis to her entrance and then surged ahead, powerful and yet tender--and met a wall of resistance.

  “You’re a virgin?” he said between clenched teeth.

  “Just do it,” she said, not caring that he had questioned that she’d be a virgin.

  Beau pushed forward, she felt the barrier give way, she cried out as pain replaced pleasure.

  He paused for a moment. “Just breathe, it’ll soon pass.”

  She reached up needing him to continue, wanting this man to finish what he’d started. She pulled his mouth to hers and then she moved her hips.

  He groaned as he moved within her. He drove himself into her body and she welcomed each thrust. Heat spiraled through her, building each time he plunged into her with an intensity she’d never experienced.

  “Beau,” she moaned. “What’s happening?”

  His face was tense and full of pleasure, his emerald eyes boring into hers, lifting her and carrying her with him. “Annabelle.”