Belle Gone Bad (10 page)

W
hen Belle laughed at his words, Mercy joined her. Fortunately, it hadn't taken much to cajole her out of her sad memories. She must have been thinking about Hackett. The last thing either of them needed was the ghost of her perfect lover between them. Still, he wasn't without a haunting of his own. He kept expecting Victoria to return and lay him low.

The best thing he could do was to keep their minds here and now as well as train their focus on each other. Food was a good way to close channels and erect barriers to the portals of the unseen.

He grabbed the bag of Mama Lou's goodies and tossed it into Belle's lap.

“Careful!” She protectively clutched the food. “We don't want smashed muffins and fritters.”

“They'll taste just as good no matter what their shape.” He quickly set cheese and jerky on the napkins. “Ready to eat?”

She nodded, smiled, and then faced the east. She raised her left hand and held her palm toward the brightening sky. “I give thanks for our bountiful food.” She cast Mercy a sly glance. “And ask for success in our partnership.”

“I also give thanks to the Sun, the Moon, the Earth, and our Creator.” He immediately felt a change in the air as if energy gathered around them. He hoped the power didn't awaken Victoria's interest, or she might decide to take on Belle again.

“I can't think of anything better to fill my stomach.” Belle selected a muffin and handed it to him.

“Thanks.” When he started to take a bite, she tapped his hand. He glanced at her in surprise.

“Aren't you going to feed me first?”

He looked from her to the muffin and back again.

She leaned forward and opened her mouth.

“Where are my manners?” He chuckled as he pinched off a piece and put it in her mouth.

She held his gaze as she slowly chewed, swallowed, and pursed her lips.

He had to admit, she knew a thing or two about exciting a man. He felt so hot and hard that nothing would satisfy him except her luscious body.

When she opened her mouth again, he leaned closer and slowly slipped a piece of muffin into her mouth. She smiled as she closed her lips around his finger and sucked till he felt the pressure all the way to his aching cock. She was teasing him, drawing him into her game, but two could play.

He withdrew his finger, pinched off another piece of muffin, and placed it in her hand. He leaned toward her. She smiled with a coquettish gleam in her eyes as she put the muffin in his mouth, but she quickly withdrew her hand.

He frowned in mock anger that she'd eluded him, but he'd learned to be a patient man. While he waited to entice her again, he decided to stoke up his own fuel. He picked up a piece of jerky, took a bite, and realized he was hungry. He ate cheese and a delicious fritter. Only then did he feel sated, but only with food. Not with Belle.

As he drank water from his canteen, he watched her. He needed to take it slower with her, if he could. She'd only intimately known one man. After Hackett's untimely death, she'd built him up as a paragon of virtue. Mercy didn't know any man, living or dead, whose deeds could stand up to that type of adulation. For now, Belle appeared to have let go of Hackett's memory. He was glad.

“I'm ready for my dessert.” He gave her a long perusal from head to toe so she'd get the idea of where he wanted to go.

“More muffin?” She finished off a fritter and dusted her palms together.

“More
you
.”

“Me?”

“Not even Mama Lou's famous muffins compare to your sweet taste.”

“Can you be sure?”

“Now that you mention it, probably not. I'd better compare.”

“Where do you want to start?” She toyed with the buttons of her blouse.

His breath caught in his throat as she quickly unbuttoned her blouse, pulled it off, tossed it aside, and gave him a come-hither look.

He forgot everything except the sight of her breasts the size of ripe melons straining against a white lace chemise that revealed more than it covered. A crimson ribbon threaded through the lace emphasized the darkness of large nipples. He couldn't decide which he wanted to do first, paint her or love her. At the painful surge in his shaft, he decided there was no doubt.

But she wasn't done enticing him. She slipped a lacy strap off one shoulder and then the other, smiling at him all the while. Without the support, her chemise sagged lower, slipping down her creamy flesh to stop just above the shadow of her nipples. He licked his lips with mounting anticipation.

“Are you still hungry?” She cupped her hands beneath her breasts and raised the mounds to strain against sheer fabric.

He lost the power of speech. He was hanging on to control by willpower alone. It'd been so long. She looked so luscious. He felt so needy.

“Perhaps you're not yet hungry enough.” On her knees, she leaned toward him and her breasts tumbled forward, escaping the confines of her chemise.

Creamy orbs. Rosy tips. And a few freckles. He slipped every trace that had held him back and grabbed her shoulders. He wrapped his arms around her, pressing her soft, bare breasts to his chest. He ran his hands down her back and grasped her hips so he could push his aching cock against her triangle. It wasn't enough, not nearly enough. He was on fire.

Holding her rounded bottom with one hand, he grasped her head with the other so he could taste her sweet depths again. He pressed kisses down her throat, across her shoulders, bending her back over his arm so that he could finally feast on her voluptuous breasts.

He kissed the tip of each one, then licked, nibbled, and sucked until they stood up in taut peaks. He squeezed her breasts as he kissed up her throat to linger on her lips again. They were now as plump and darkened as her nipples from his kisses. And still it wasn't enough.

“I'm hungry,” he growled.

He grasped the waistband of her skirt, undoing the buttons, stripping it downward to reveal her lacy drawers. Sheer white lawn and lace threaded with a crimson ribbon did more to entice than to conceal. At the apex of her thighs, he could see the burnt sienna that matched the thick hair of her head.

He was past the point of no return, past specters of other people, past consideration. But to make sure he wasn't the only one caught in the grip of passion, he pressed his fingers between her legs. She was as hot and wet and needy as he was hot and hard and desperate.

He unbuttoned her drawers, pushed them down, along with her skirt, and stopped in amazement. She had a sprinkling of freckles across her belly to match those across her breasts and nose. If he'd known that when he'd first met her, he'd have been unable to think of anything else.

He glanced at her face. She'd leaned back on her elbows, worrying her lower lip with her bottom teeth as if not sure of his reaction. He glanced back down. Her ankles were trapped in her clothes, so he spread her knees and knelt before her.

“I'm ready to feast,” he said.

“I'm not sure what you mean, but I'm not likely to deny you anything.”

Inwardly, he cursed Hackett for not giving Belle this pleasure, but he also blessed the man for leaving Mercy the opportunity to initiate her this way. So as not to startle her, he set his hands on her knees, then slowly inched his palms up her silky inner thighs. She shivered beneath his touch but made not a sound. He held back his own need to groan. When he reached the heart of her, he hesitated before he reverently touched a fingertip to the nub of her desire. She shivered harder as he increased the pressure, sliding downward, pressing into her slick entrance, and then moving back up to fondle her nub again.

She was so hot and wet that it wouldn't take much to bring her to satisfaction. Afterward, maybe she would return the favor. Yet his cock ached for a different type of completion. Until he was buried deep inside her, feeling slick with her juices, he wouldn't be satiated. But he could wait. A woman like Belle was worth a year's hiatus. And when they came together, the wait would be well rewarded.

He lowered his head and set his tongue to Belle's hard nub. As he stroked up and down, delving deeper, harder, faster between her hot, slick folds, she writhed up against him, clutching the thickness of his hair as she shivered with building passion. She tasted of everything that could satisfy a man's hunger and everything that could ease his thirst.

He kissed and stroked and licked until she cried his name in ecstasy, hung on to her pleasure for a long moment, and then collapsed in satisfied release. He raised his head to look into her beautiful eyes.

She smiled. “I guess you
were
hungry.”

B
elle clasped a hand over her mouth at her sassy words, partly in embarrassment, partly in wonder. “Where did you learn to do that?”

Mercy threw back his head and laughed.

“Is that what they do back East?”

When he laughed even harder, she felt slightly embarrassed. She quickly tugged into place her drawers and chemise. She glanced around for her blouse, but she'd tossed it beyond the campfire.

“I'm sure Yankees aren't the only ones who do it,” Mercy said.

“Maybe they invented it?”

He laughed again. “I doubt it.”

“Well, Hackett never even suggested such a thing.”

“You didn't like it?”

“I loved it!” She frowned as she tried to bring some semblance of order to her hair. “But I feel a little guilty.”

“Hackett?”

“Yes. I suppose he was too much a gentleman. Not that you aren't. Still, he treated me like a lady. Not that you don't. Oh, I don't know what I'm trying to say.”

“If you prefer—”

“No! I mean, I want to experience everything. It's been a long time.”

“I know exactly what you mean.”

She took a good look at him. He sat there shirtless and bronzed by the campfire light, a gorgeous man. She'd bet he was still hard with need. “You pleasured me. Now—”

“You don't owe me. I enjoyed touching you. Besides, the Sun will be up soon and we'll need to hit the trail.”

“Not just yet.” She scooted closer to him. “I don't know what to do, but I'm willing to make you happy.”

He smiled, brushing a strand of hair back from her face. “Did you, uh, with Hackett?”

She held up a hand. “Whatever it is, no. He was strictly a missionary position man. And he did that quite well. I think. Of course, I had no comparison before, but I'm sure he was excellent.”

Mercy nodded, glancing toward the east. “If we're quick, I believe we have time for another lesson.”

“I can be as quick as you like.”

He chuckled as he placed her hand over the bulge in his trousers. “Not too quick.”

She looked down, she looked up, she cocked her head, trying to decide what to do.

“Let's keep it simple.”

“I like simple. But I want to get it right.”

“Trust me, there is no wrong.” He rubbed the back of her hand. “You know how to unbutton trousers, don't you?”

“Yes.”

“Start there.”

She felt excited, as if she was about to uncover a great mystery. She'd had no idea so much could be done between two people. She wished Hackett hadn't been so, well, strict with their lovemaking. But she didn't want to think about him now. He would always hold a special place in her heart, but Mercy deserved her complete focus. She didn't want to get this wrong, or hurt him.

“Are you ready?” he prompted.

“Yes.” She held out her hands, wiggled her fingers to loosen them, and then attacked the buttons of his trousers with gusto. She spread the fly and out popped a huge cock. Mercy's shaft was long, wide, and dark. She took a deep breath, for just the sight of him was causing her to throb with desire again.

“I won't break.” He curled her hand around his long length. “That feels good.”

“You're rather large, aren't you?”

He chuckled, moving her hand up and down. “Was someone in your past not so well endowed?”

“He was perfect. I'm afraid you're too big.”

Mercy leaned forward and placed a kiss against her lips. “We'll see if you still think that later.”

She didn't reply. She didn't want to talk anymore. She certainly didn't want to think about Hackett or his shaft. She wanted to do nothing except focus on the rhythm Mercy was teaching her as she stroked up and down the satiny smooth skin stretched so tightly over his rock-hard cock. As she moved faster and harder, she felt an answering response in her own body, growing hot and wet and needy all over again.

“It won't take much,” Mercy said in a strained voice. “It's been so long.”

She stroked faster as she upped the rhythm, fascinated and amazed at what she held in her hand. And then he groaned, grabbed her hand, squeezed, and reached his ecstasy just as she had before him.

He embraced her, kissed her lips, and then held her tightly against his chest.

“Thank you. You've given me back a vital part of my life.”

She snuggled against his chest. “No need for thanks. You've given me a gift, too. But you've made me selfish. I want to experience everything with you.”

“I want to teach you everything.”

She sighed. “I wish we didn't have to go.”

“I'm worried about Diana.”

“So am I.”

“They're probably already on the trail.”

“I don't like taking on four men.” She glanced toward the east and saw grayness spreading across the sky as birds sang up the Sun. They couldn't wait much longer to hit the trail.

“I'll be with you.”

“Yes, I know.” He was a wonderful lover, but he wouldn't be worth much in a shoot-out. As a bounty hunter, she had a lot more need of a gunslinger than a lover. And that was simply the sad fact of her life.

“What is it?”

“You said you'd wear the Colt .44.”

“I will.”

“I need you to learn to use it and I need you to be good.”

He touched the tip of her nose. “If you're willing to learn from me, I'm willing to learn from you.”

She stood up. “It's a deal.”

He buttoned his trousers and got to his feet. “You almost made me forget you're a bounty hunter. You belong in a fancy boudoir and nowhere else.”

She grinned, shaking her head. “We're a fine pair. You belong in an art studio and nowhere else.”

“But that'd get boring, wouldn't it?”

“Let's see if you think so after we track down these outlaws and rescue Diana.”

“That'll be the time for your boudoir.”

“First you'll have to get me one.”

He pressed a warm kiss to her lips. “I just might do that.”

“And I just might invite you to stay.”

She gave a last, lingering caress to his bare chest before she turned toward the horses and the dangerous road ahead.