Breathless (6 page)

T
he apartment over the store was as busy as a train station. Blue swore that anyone who had ever met Stella McCreedy had stopped by in the last couple of days. She had a pantry full of fruit preserves and pickled beets, and an icebox stuffed with a chicken, butter, and eggs. A burlap sack full of potatoes sat on her kitchen floor. She planned on dragging it into the pantry as soon as she caught her breath.

Blue had never had so many friends and well-wishers. Her life as Blue McCann had been lonely from birth. Left in a back alley by her mother, she’d been blue with cold when she’d been found. The nurses had given her the name, and no one had seen fit to change it. Blue she became. McCann had come from the head nurse, who’d called child services that first day.

In this life as Stella, she was flummoxed by all the attention and good wishes. Stella was well-liked and appreciated by friends and patients. It seemed that Stella was a proud woman, and everyone who stopped by was prepared to push the food at her. So when Blue stumbled through the thank yous, no one seemed to notice that Stella wasn’t her normal self.

As for Blue, she held every moment of appreciation to her heart and let it warm through her. There was even a point where she felt a tiny bit jealous of Stella. To have a life in 1913 where she was her own woman, in charge of her own affairs, was remarkable.

And yet, Stella was no longer living her life, Blue was. So it was up to Blue to live Stella’s life without doing any damage. She was a guardian of Stella’s existence, and the responsibility weighed more heavily with every passing day.

Colt would be here soon, and she dug out fresh sheets and found some lavender water to sprinkle across the bedding.

Seduction.

She sighed and heated. Colt would love this. The room looked pretty and fresh and inviting.

As for cooking, she now felt comfortable lighting the stove. A stew that had been left by a grateful new mother bubbled in a pot. The scent was delicious.

She had no idea if Stella could cook, but the lack of ingredients in the house when she’d arrived made Blue doubt it. Either that or she survived on her patients’ grateful contributions. Her own lack of skill in the kitchen seemed to be another way she and Stella were similar. She ignored the mental reminder that Stella was an artist in her spare time, while Blue had been addicted to renovation and real-estate shows on television.

Her interest in decor had already brightened Stella’s apartment and decluttering was well under way.

The putt-putt of Colt’s car came to her from the back alley.

He climbed down and reached onto the passenger seat for his medical bag and a bouquet of wild flowers. She dug a vase out of the cupboard in the second bedroom and filled it with water while he bounded up the back stairs.

When he stepped into the kitchen, she drank in the sight of him. He slipped his hat off his head and grinned while he held out the flowers for her. She took them, gave them a sniff, and remarked, “And what payment would you expect for these?”

He flushed and crowded her against the table, then leaned over her. She dropped the flowers to the table at her back. “Much the same payment I’ll give you for that delicious stew I smell.”

Something dangerous and delicious shifted behind his eyes. He’d gone dark and exciting. He wanted sex, hungered for it, for her. She edged along the table to the end, then fled out of the kitchen. Her long skirt made her stumble, so she lifted her hem to her knees with a whoop.

Barely able to contain her giggles, she led him down the hall to the living room, correction, she thought, it’s called a parlor. His feet pounded behind her slowly and with great, thundering thumps. The man put on a show that made her laugh harder and toss in a sexy squeal every few steps. She felt his hand brush her shoulder, so she sped up and danced on the far side of a round table.

His eyes gleamed, while his teeth flashed with every phony growl he produced. She wanted to collapse with the giggles, but she was having too much fun.

It was Stella having fun. Blue couldn’t remember ever playing this way. Not for the sheer joy of it! She covered her mouth to contain her laughter, while he flung off his jacket and tossed it over an ornate chair in the corner.

He dodged left; she ran right and scooted back down the hall, unbuttoning her dress as she went. He’d get a great shock when he discovered she wore no underwear! She didn’t think Stella would have been so bold, but Blue was up for anything.

As long as it was with Colt Stephens.

She glanced over her shoulder and saw him with one foot up while he unhooked first one boot, then the other. While he concentrated, she slipped into her bedroom and hid in the closet.

He ran past the bedroom door, feet sounding much lighter now that he was in his socks. She contained another giggle and heard him blunder about in the kitchen, growling like a bear as he searched in vain.

She stripped naked as she waited for him to track back to her room. It didn’t take long. The closet door flew open, light poured in, and she jumped into his arms all in one motion.

He caught her naked backside and fell back onto the bed with her.

“Caught you!” she said.

“But I was the hunter,” he managed to say between nibbling kisses.

She worked at his shirt buttons while straddling him. “Hah, little do men know. Men chase us until we catch them. That’s how it really works.”

He chuckled and feigned surprise. “Well, then, I’ve been had!”

“Not yet, you haven’t,” she said on a sultry note, but his wicked finger had found her wettest secret and plunged in to the first knuckle.
Tease. Please.
She gasped and closed her eyes.

Now it was his turn to chuckle. She rose up to give him more room. He took the hint and set his thumb against her achy clit and rubbed. She shuddered and trembled while he watched her face.

“You are so lovely like this. Open and giving. Stella! Look at me.”

She did. His expression was avid, seductive, and oh-so-needy.

He slid his finger out and trailed it across her mouth. Salty.

“Colt, I need you.”

“Be mine, Stella.”

“Yes,” she crooned as she leaned down to his hot neck. She nibbled the skin under his ear, felt the rasp of his bristles at her cheek. “Love me, Colt, any way you want.”

Suddenly flipped to her back, she laughed up into his face. His eyes warmed to affectionate as he started a string of kisses that began at the tip of her nose and moved down her body. When he reached her navel, he growled and flipped her over again. He pulled at her hips until she was on all fours.

“Here, now I can get to you the way I want to,” he said.

“Are you—” Oh! He wouldn’t, would he?

C
olt was tempted to test the exposed knot of Stella’s backside. He palmed her cheeks, opened them. Like the bud of a rose, it was closed tight. Beneath lay a pot of delights, honeyed with her ambrosia, open and ready. Her labia spread, releasing the aphrodisiac scent of her, showing her dark pink opening.

He put his mouth to her, opened wide, and drank, suckling lightly at her clit, then dragging his tongue front to back.

Her belly clenched as she moaned her enjoyment. He slid his hand along the bed under her to clasp her wrist. He tugged and she allowed him to drag her fingers to her clit. Watching her pleasure herself made his cock throb harder. Her feminine fingers rubbed and plucked. The clues to her pleasure were clear.

“Do that,” he said. “Make yourself come so I can watch your cunny drip when it happens.”

She glanced down through her legs, her eyes gleaming with desire. She spread her mons wide and tapped at her clit with a tat-a-tat rhythm he memorized. Moisture filled her slit, and he obligingly licked it clear, sharing some with her massaging finger.

“If I do this,” she said as her panting grew labored, “I want to see you do it too!” Suddenly overcome, she closed her eyes and sighed in a hearty gasp that made her belly clench. The cheeks of her ass shook and her dark red hole opened while she trembled with her orgasm. Dew sluiced down the side of her leg as she cried out.

His hand found his shaft, aroused beyond bearable, and started to pump and slide as he worked his dry flesh. Gathering her moisture, he slicked it over his penis and rose to fall on the bed beside her.

She flopped, prone and spent, until she peeped one eye to watch. It took only a moment for her to roll to an elbow and prop up to murmur encouragement. Periodic swipes of her wet mouth across his nipple helped take him closer.

“Look at how hard you are,” she murmured. “The head’s dark purple now and there’s dew at your little slit. May I taste it?”

“Please do.” He raised his hips off the bed to offer himself. The sight of her lips opening wide to encase his bulbous head sent sparks to his eyes. Two quick, hard sucks were all she gave him.

Then she scampered to the side of the bed and settled where he’d been only moments before. “I’ll watch from here if you don’t mind. I want to see your balls contract as they shoot.”

“Liar!” he cried, as he felt her hot, wet mouth encase each ball in turn. She worked one, then the other, drawing and holding them one at a time. The heat from her mouth sent his temperature soaring as he roared into an orgasm and shot his seed up his chest.

She nuzzled and sucked at his balls while he came. Stars burst behind his eyelids as he emptied himself and fell even more under her spell.

“Vixen,” he called, and laughed at the odd sensation she created by licking clean his empty shaft and head.

A burning smell entered the room and alerted him to a waft of smoke. “Did you leave the stew on the stove?”

“Oh! I’ll never get used to cooking with that thing,” she said before she ran naked from the room.

“You can’t parade around your kitchen like that,” he called. She was gone, though, so he slammed into his pants and took a robe off the hook on the door. He might allow his dignity to disappear when they were about to indulge in intimacies, but he’d be damned if he let her parade around naked!

The stench in the kitchen smelled strongly burnt. The stew ruined, she looked sad enough to cry. “I’ve burned it.” She wrapped her hand in a tea towel to lift the pot, but he stopped her.

“Here, let me,” he said, and handed her the robe. He lifted the heavy pot to the side, while she slipped her arms into the dressing gown.

Stella was different from other women. More than forward thinking, even more than Belle Grantham, he realized. Belle had been raised in the Free Love Movement and lived her life accordingly. Stella simply did exactly as she wanted, when she wanted. Colt found her fascinating as she fretted, ties open on her gown, about their burnt supper. On the one hand, she was a fully sexual wanton, on the other, exactly like any other woman when it came to domestic duty.

“I burned the stew,” she said, distressed.

“I had a hand in the ruination too.”

She slanted him a glance. “You had a hand somewhere,” she said with a husky tone. Taking that as an invitation, he slid both hands down her belly and cupped her mons. The silk of her robe felt cool and delicate, and smelled of lavender. He spread her outer lips and began the rhythmic tapping he’d seen her use on herself. “Yes,” she murmured.

She opened wide for him and let him slide his fingers in and out of her in rough play as his arousal came back hot and hard. “Do you like that?” His words sounded guttural and dark as night, even to him. He wasn’t sure where this demand in his voice came from, but he needed more.

Colt wanted everything she could give. He wanted to know she felt the same need to suck him dry, use him up, and hold him to her forever.

“I need you inside, Colt. I can’t take this anymore. I’m so empty. Fill me, please.”

He nuzzled at her neck, bit the light flesh of her lobe, and tugged. The packet he’d brought back with him was still in his jacket pocket. “I brought a prophylactic.”

“Oh! Thank you!” She moaned and rocked against his hand in a signal he knew all too well. She was close to her pinnacle, and the power he had over her delighted him. But teasing her felt cruel at this point and he took her over the edge into bliss.

“Oh! I’m coming!” She shuddered and came on his tapping finger. Moisture slicked his fingers as he worked her in her frenzy of release. She stood glorious with abandon in his arms, wracked with orgasmic delight.

Stella McCreedy was the most glorious creature he’d ever encountered.

As she weakened in his arms, he gathered her up and carried her back to the bedroom. “We’ll eat later, after we’ve filled every other craving we have,” he said.

She nodded weakly. “Thank you.” She palmed his cheek and turned his face so she could look into his eyes. Hers were moist and filled with deep affection. “I’m glad you brought the rubber, I must have taken my entire stock to Perdition.”

“That’s where I got it.” He felt heat rise in his face. “Actually, I took six.”

She chuckled. “You wicked, wicked man.”

Blue’s sexual heat cranked up to inferno by the time Colt carried her back to bed. Stella’s body was obviously making up for lost time, while Blue was making up for lost love. Too many to count, she realized.

So many that she was ready to latch on to Colt Stephens and keep him close to her heart for the rest of Stella’s life. When Stella came back into her body, Blue hoped there would be some sensory memory of these days with Colt. There had to be!

No one could feel this kind of love without leaving a trace, a signature behind. Stella would know, Blue was sure of it.

And yes, she loved him. Crazy, but true. Colt was kind, gentle, and considerate. Smart and sexy as hell. Not at all like the doctors she’d met in emergency rooms and clinics. They were so overworked that they hardly looked at her. She was only a case. Just one more in a long line. Not the doctors’ fault, but the pressure had reduced Blue to a set of symptoms. Her short life had been full of them.

Colt was different from every man who’d crossed Blue’s path. With him, she felt safe, complete, and cherished.

“I love the way you make me feel, Colt. Like I’m important. A somebody.”

“You’re an odd woman, Stella. Smoking cigars, driving that automobile! One would think you had an unseemly amount of confidence for a woman, not a lack of it. And then you say things like this.” He settled her on the bed. “I’ve wanted you since the day I set eyes on you. You’re a magnificent woman. An opinionated, forward-thinking, modern woman who treats her patients with respect and a gentle hand. I’ve learned a lot from you this past month.”

“What could you possibly learn from me?”

“Kindness and consideration for the state of a woman’s mind. It’s commonly thought that women are unstable, have periods of hysteria.” He tapped the tip of her nose. “You’ve made me think otherwise.”

“You haven’t been a doctor long, but it pleases me very much that you have such an open mind.” Her chest glowed with his praise, and yes, she sopped up every word, like bread in gravy. Poor man had no idea how
modern
she was. “You are sweet to say that I’ve taught you some things,” she said, hoping she wasn’t doing damage to Stella’s life by behaving so freely with Colt. But she was helpless in her desire and love, and she could only hope Stella would forgive her.

“I’m not being sweet, it’s the bald truth. I’ve learned from you.”

She slid to the head of the bed and watched as he dug into his jacket pocket to pull out a small square. The wrapper was different from modern ones, but she felt relieved he’d come prepared. The day had turned to a cool evening and she lifted the covers to slide between the sheets.

His eyes heated. “You’re lovely with the bedclothes tucked up under your chin. You look like a virginal miss who’s never done this before.”

She chuckled, then flipped up the sheets on the other side of the narrow double bed. He slipped beside her and gathered her close. His hair tickled her thighs, and his scent was familiar and warm. She nuzzled the hair on his chest. The beat of his heart under her ear reassured her this wasn’t a dream, that Colt was real, she was real, and their love would grow.

Night darkened the window while he ran his hands to her breasts and tweaked her nipples into stiff peaks. She had an amazing response. Her deepest belly clenched in need, and she set his head to her chest, offering each nipple to his seeking mouth.

Each draw of his suckling mouth pulled at her womb and deepened her need to desperate.

She cupped his cock and balls to check for readiness. He groaned against her tits, cupped them, and buried his face between the mounds.

“I need you,” she whispered. “Inside.” Having him completely would be a step from which she couldn’t turn back.

He fitted himself over her, chest to chest, hips to hips, his hard cock to her soft emptiness. Everything felt so right, so true, that Blue couldn’t hold back, not her body, not her heart. His head found her entrance, slick and ready. “I’m empty, Colt, so, so empty. Fill me now. Fast!”

His hips rose and she clasped his shaft to guide him. She needed quick penetration, the full slide in to the hilt; then she planned to rock his world. His head entered slowly, probing, splitting her folds and teasing the walls of her channel.

She raised her hips, took more…

“What the hell?” she said, as he pressed against a barrier. Stella wouldn’t have any kind of birth-control device in place. There was nothing to slip out of place or block the way.

Stella was a virgin!

Colt slid back a little, his expression confounded. “Stella! You’re—” But her hands grasping his ass made it clear he wasn’t going anywhere but straight in.

“Take me, Colt. All the way. Please,” she pleaded. Colt’s fingers had been in as far as they could go. But his long cock went deeper, found her maidenhead again, and eased through, opening her channel.

Freeing her!

Only to hold her captive. Blue had betrayed Stella in the most elemental way. Until now, sex with Colt had been fun and good for Blue’s battered spirit. But this had changed Stella’s body forever.

Wherever she was, did she know? Did she feel the change? Did she know Blue was in love with the man who’d taken Stella’s virginity?