Angel Gone Bad (18 page)

R
une sat on a flat rock outcrop near the waterfall with his bare feet dangling in water tinted green by the trees above. Diffused sunlight cast a golden glow over Angel where she made circles in the stream with her bare feet. She also trailed fingertips in the water that lapped gently against their rocky perch. At a distance, the horses grazed on sparse grass.

He felt at peace, casting adrift the past and future to enjoy the simple pleasures of the present.

They'd eaten Crowdy's food, which they'd removed from nearby saddlebags. They'd drunk sweet water from the stream. And they'd napped together on their combined blankets. He couldn't put a price on the blessed rest.

After such a long, hard struggle to reach this point, he felt his spirits and his body revive in the hidden ravine. He glanced up at the runestone. It felt mystical and protective. Far from home, Vikings had worn Thor's Hammers to remind them of their loved ones and their gods. He touched the iron of his own Hammer through his shirt, feeling a deep connection to his ancient ancestors.

They would understand his determination to right wrongs and clear his name. They would also understand Angel's loyalty to her friend. They took pride in justice, loyalty, and family. The British and American legal systems were based on the ancient Norse Althing. When men went a-viking, they swore loyalty to a leader, but only to one who had proven his luck. They had lived and died for family and friends, just as they still did in America.

He glanced at Angel. Justice, loyalty, family. Repeatedly, she had overcome her own limitations and beliefs to embody those traits. How had he not seen that strength in her the first time? Perhaps his own goals and his anger at her disloyalty had blinded him. Perhaps adversity brought out the best in her. Perhaps he could now see beyond her physical beauty to her inner beauty.

Yet he couldn't afford to let any of that matter. They were far from reaching their goals. They were still in danger. Until he had his life back, he was simply another outlaw on the run. A man like him had no future with a woman like her. But what about enjoying the simple pleasures of the moment? Yes, that he could give to Angel and to himself.

She glanced over her shoulder. “You're quiet. Penny for your thoughts.”

“The Vikings would have understood our quest.”

“If they'd had to travel on horses instead of boats, they might have stayed at home.”

He chuckled. “Has it been so hard?”

“If I'd started out as a cowgirl, not hard at all. Cowboys would rather ride than walk. But I've never spent so many hours and miles on the back of a horse, astride at that, in my entire life.”

“How about now?”

“Either I'm numb, and you know where, or I've actually built muscle and grown accustomed to the back of a horse.”

“Both, most likely.”

“But I still prefer the train.”

“What about the freedom to go wherever and whenever you please?”

“I admit that's a plus.”

“You couldn't get here on a train.”

“You made your point. I agree.”

“Now let me make another one.”

“I'm all ears.”

“Would you like to get rid of that trail dust?”

“I'm about to jump in the water any moment.”

“Want a bar of lavender soap to go with it?”

“Don't tease. That's too good to be true.”

“Want to check out my saddlebags?”

She grabbed his saddlebags, rooted around in one side, and then the other before she held up a bar in triumph. She sniffed it, and then gave him a big smack on the cheek. “Where did you get this?”

“Harris Mercantile.”

“All the way back in Paris? You didn't buy it for yourself. For me?”

“Yes.”

“That's so sweet.” She gave him another smack, leaned over the water, and worked up lather between her palms. “It's wonderful!”

“Glad you like it.”

She gave him a calculating look from the corner of her eye. “Is this your way of getting me out of my clothes?”

He grinned, nodding.

“You had that in mind even back then?”

“I've always had it in mind.”

She bopped his arm with the soap. “You
are
naughty.”

“Can't blame a guy for trying, or planning ahead.”

She laughed. “In that case, let's get you cleaned up, too.”

“Are you going to do it?”

“I'm the one with the soap, aren't I?”

“Never argue with a lady holding a bar of soap.”

She laughed harder. “Smart man. Now, off with your clothes and into the water.”

“You first.”

She brandished the soap. “You want to argue with lavender?”

“I don't want to argue at all.”

He grabbed her around the middle and stepped into the pool. Water swirled around their ankles, wetting his trousers and her skirt.

“Now look what you've done.” Angel chuckled as she pushed against his chest with one hand while holding the soap away from him with the other.

“The way it was going, I'd be all day getting you in the water.”

“What will I do about these wet clothes?”

“Let me help.”

He made short work of the buttons of her blouse, and then quickly pulled it off and tossed it on the rocks. He feasted on the sight of her. Nipples pebbled under a lacy muslin chemise. Breasts rounded like ripe peaches. He glanced up. Mouth tinted the color of wild plums. She licked her lower lip, revealing a rosy tongue and white teeth.

That did it. He reached down, cupped water in his hands, and splashed it over her chemise, turning the fabric transparent. Now he could truly see her full-moon mounds tipped with taut cherries. Once seen, they must be felt. He clasped her breasts and squeezed, feeling the ripeness fill his palms. She moaned a low, husky sound that went straight to his gut.

From there to the buttons of her skirt, his hands trembled with growing need as his prick quivered in response. He dropped her skirt into the water, where it floated around her ankles. Once more, he cupped water, but this time he tossed it lower, soaking her lacy drawers so that the fabric turned transparent and clung to her curves, revealing the dark heart of her. He covered that triangle with his hand and felt her steamy heat. She moaned once more and reached out to draw him close. But he didn't let her.

He picked her up, pushed the skirt aside, and cradled her in his arms. She wore nothing but sheer, clingy underwear, but that was still too much. As he moved deeper into the stream, he walked across smooth pebbles and caught the scent of wild flowers in bloom. She laid her head against his chest, and he felt the hotness of his erection blaze against the coolness of the water.

When he reached the waterfall, he stepped through it so that they were both bathed in cool water. Now they were enclosed by a cliff wall on one side and falling water on the other. He lowered her so that she slowly slid down the length of him until they stood knee deep in the still pool of water, body to body.

She trembled as he gently tilted her face up for a kiss. She felt like the smoothest cream. She smelled like the sweetest honeysuckle. And when he pressed his lips to hers, she tasted like sugar and spice.

As he deepened the kiss, spray from the waterfall covered them in a fine, soft mist. He wanted to be gentle. He wanted to give her time. But his wants were quickly being overridden by his needs. He felt his prick strain against his trousers in a desperate bid to spring free.

He crushed her against the length of him, thrusting against her with his hard cock as he delved deep into her mouth. When she moaned, almost a plea for help, he stoked her passion with more heated kisses, nibbles, and licks on her swollen lips. He teased his way down to the sensitive area in the hollow of her throat and felt the rapid beat of her heart.

He wanted to give her everything he had to give, but he knew he should hold back. She was innocent, not a woman of the world.

And then she surprised him. She slipped her hands between them and unbuttoned his shirt, fingers shaky and urgent as she moved from top to bottom. She jerked his shirt off his shoulders, down his arms, and tossed it into the water to drift downstream. She closed fingers around his dented Thor's Hammer, and then placed a quick kiss on its surface.

If she was playing with him, she was playing with fire. Yet he forgot everything except his lust the moment she stroked his chest, palms soft yet strong as she massaged him. She circled his nipples with fingertips, and then toyed with the hard tips. When she replaced her fingers with her mouth, licking and nibbling, he groaned in surrender to the power of her touch.

Once he had wanted to hurt her. Now he wanted to cherish her. Yet the old wounds ran deep. Which would win out, pain, passion. . . or both?

“A
re you trying to drive me crazy?” “Yes.” Angel continued her torrent of kisses. “I shouldn't be the only one who feels that way.”

He groaned in reply.

She placed one kiss after another down his chest as she slowly knelt in the water, feeling the coolness rise to cover her waist. She shivered, as much from the cold water as from the heat of Rune's bare skin.

When she teased his belly button with the tip of her tongue, he dug fingers into her hair, loosening her neat chignon. She grappled with the fabric of his trousers, trying to release the buttons that imprisoned his straining shaft.

“Are you playing with me?”

She glanced up, surprised by his words.

“No matter how skillful your hands, I can't overlook the truth. You've been playing games with me from the first moment I met you.”

“What do you mean?” She stilled, feeling the cold move inward toward her heart.

He lifted her up so they were face to face. “You knew I wanted you, so you teased and tormented me. You're still doing it.”

“I wanted you, too.”

“As a toy, a plaything, to be punished when I didn't do exactly what you wanted when you wanted.”

“Rune, I thought we'd gotten past my actions. I apologized. I know I was wrong. I freely admit it. But now we've been through so much together.”

“I thought to use you, but instead you're using me. Aren't you?”

“You're letting old feelings get in the way. We're working together now.”

“No matter how this ends, you come out ahead. I may end up dead.”

“I'm trying to be
good.
Don't you understand?”

“But you've been
bad
.”

“Okay!” She threw up her hands, glancing wildly about her. She saw a spindly branch that had fallen from a tree. She grabbed it and held it out to him. “Here's a switch. Punish me! You won't be happy till you've inflicted pain for pain.”

He frowned, balling his hands into fists.

“Take it!” She struck him across his chest.

He flinched, frown deepening.

She hit him again, this time leaving a red mark. “Hurt me so we can be done with this once and for all.”

“You're trying my patience.”

“Well, I've lost mine.” She raised the switch to strike once more.

He jerked it away. “You're not hitting me again.”

“Fine!” She pulled off her drawers, threw them in the water, and bent over, baring her bottom to him. “There. Go ahead. Switch me!”

“Angel, you don't know what you're doing or saying.”

She looked over her shoulder. He appeared to be in pain. “What's wrong with you?”

“I'm trying hard to control myself.”

“Well, don't!” She wiggled her bottom at him.

He snapped the switch in half, the loud crack breaking the peace of the ravine, and tossed it aside. He grabbed her around the waist, lifted her off her feet, and carried her to the bank. He sat down, turned her over his lap, and spanked her bottom with his bare hand. One, two, three times.

She gasped, wiggling to get away, feeling his hardness against her stomach, realizing she'd been playing with fire. Maybe he was right. Maybe she didn't know how to be good. Maybe she deserved anything he did to her.

He slapped her bare butt again. It stung. It hurt. It infuriated her. She changed her mind. She
was
good. She deserved pleasure, not pain.

She wiggled harder, splashing her hands in the water as she tried to get a grip on something that would help her escape. But he was too strong, too furious, too intent on meting out pain. She got mad, too. Yet she'd set this play in motion and she was helpless to stop it now.

In an instant, everything changed when she felt him massage her bottom, soothing the stings, stroking each mound, and then delving between her legs to finger her hot, moist cleft. He followed his hand with his mouth, kissing, licking, nibbling, rubbing with his beard stubble across her sensitized flesh. She grew so hot she thought she would melt. He returned to the heart of her, using his fingers to tease and titillate until she cried out in abandon and shuddered with release.

He lifted her onto his lap and hugged her against his chest, pushing back sweat-dampened tendrils of hair from her face. “Better now?”

“I'm embarrassed.” She tried to slow her fast heartbeat and quick breath.

“Don't be.”

“It always ends up being about me.” She buried her face against the hard muscles of his chest and inhaled the comforting sage and leather scent of him. “Am I punished now? Can we go forward?”

“Do you call that punishment?”

“Well, no. It didn't work out quite liked I'd imagined.”

He chuckled, a deep vibration in her ear.

“Who knew?”

“Not you.” He stroked her shoulder with long fingers. “I might have to punish you some other time, too.”

“You think I might be bad again?”

“I think it's likely.”

“You may be right. But I'm good now.”

“How do I know?”

“I could prove it.”

“How?”

“I don't want to play anymore. I want the real thing.” She met his gaze. “If I gave myself to you completely, would that prove my good intentions?”

“That's serious.”

“I'm serious about you. I always have been. I always will be.” She'd said more than she'd meant to say. She didn't want to drive him away. “Now I'm even more embarrassed. You'll think I'm terribly forward.”

He chuckled again. “After all we've been to each other, the word ‘forward' didn't come to mind.”

“Well, something not very flattering.”

“If I told you what I really thought, you'd get a big head.”

“Try me.”

“Angel, you got under my skin the moment I bought you with those stolen sorrel horses. I only meant to rescue you from Zip and his outlaws, but you're like a cockle burr that won't let go.”

“Thank you. I feel so much better now that you've compared me to a sticker.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I honestly don't think I know anything anymore.”

“You know how I feel about you. Why else would I put up with all of your antics?”

“Antics?” She sat up in irritation, not sure she liked where any of this was going.

He pulled her back against his chest. “I'm not saying anything else. I don't have the right. I'm on the run. I can't offer you anything except pleasure.”

“Then I'll take it. Right here. Right now.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

He eased her off his lap and reached for his saddlebags.

Angel's bottom felt hot and stung where he'd spanked her. She sat down in the water and it rippled around her hips. But it didn't cool her sensitivity. She felt as if Rune had set her on fire and only he could put out the flame.

“What are you doing?” she asked in irritation.

“I'm getting a French cap.”

“Did you say
French
?”

He chuckled. “I know that word has surfaced a lot lately, but that's just the way it is.”

“Those French really get around.” She cocked her head. “What
is
a French cap?”

“Protection for you. If we're going to do this, we're going to do it right.”

“That's what Verity needed. I wish I'd known.”

“That's why you're so intent on finding Tate? Your friend's in the family way?”

“I'd look for him anyway, but this makes it more urgent.”

“We'll find him. We won't let her down.”

“Thanks. I know I can count on you.”

“You sure can.” He unbuttoned his trousers, dropped them to the rock, and slipped on the French cap.

Angel caught her breath at the sight. He was just so beautiful. But he was also a little scary. This was a big step. Yet she was ready for it. If he never offered her anything except this moment, it was enough.

He sat down facing her in the water. He reached out and plucked at her wet chemise. “You want to take that off, or do you want me to rip it off?”

She glanced down at the soaked fabric. “I forgot about it. And don't hurt my chemise. I don't have another one.” She lifted it up over her head and tossed it on the bank.

“Come here.” He stretched out his legs, patting his stomach.

“Straddle me.”

“Really, I've had quite enough riding to last me a lifetime.”

“You'll like this ride.” He leaned back on his elbows, water forming a small eddy around his rigid prick.

She carefully eased over his body, sitting down on his stomach, knees on either side of his chest.

“Touch me.”

She tilted over him, pressing the tips of her breasts to his hard chest, rubbing back and forth, and harder still as heat spread outward to engulf her entire body.

“Kiss me.”

She touched her lips to his mouth, a tentative kiss at first that exploded with intensity when he grabbed her ass with both hands. He kneaded her sensitive flesh while rubbing against her hot center with his cock. He deepened the kiss, tasting, teasing, stroking, and she caught fire. She rubbed her body against him, biting, moaning, gyrating in an attempt to ease the aching, burning emptiness.

“Take me.”

She felt him raise her hips with both hands and set the tip of his hard prick to her soft, wet center. She shuddered with desire. She'd wanted this so long without even knowing what she really wanted of him. Now she felt on the verge of a great mystery being revealed to her.

“Push down. It'll hurt, but just a moment.”

She took a deep breath and sat up. She placed both hands on his chest. She looked into those blue eyes dark with hunger. And impaled herself on his shaft.

And then the pain, the longing, the apologies were all forgotten as he moved deep within her, long, slow strokes that grew harder and faster as they plunged ever closer to fulfillment. She rode him, grinding and bucking and moaning, in a frenzy of desire.

When they neared the edge of the cliff, he stopped, and they hung there a moment, sharing the enchantment, before he plunged forward and took them over the brink together onto hallowed ground.