Dorothy Garlock (42 page)

Her mouth was warm and sweet. She parted her lips and accepted the wanderings of his.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, placing light feathery kisses on her face.

“Yes, you do. And I deserve you, darling. The sweetest, dearest, most wonderful man in the world loves me. I must have done something right that caused God to bring you to me.”

“Oh, God, sweetheart. I’m not any of those things. I’ve caroused, brawled, and raised my share of hell. And I’ve even—”

“Shhh . . .” Her fingers covered his lips. “I’ll hear nothing bad about the man who is going to be the father of my children. We’re going to have the family that neither one of us has ever had.” She kissed his mouth again and again. “Oh, darling, just think. We’ll grow old together!”

The pins had come out of her hair. She lifted her head to look into his face and the blond locks fell down over the hand that was slipping inside her bodice to caress her breast.

“How could I have doubted for one minute that you were anything but good and sweet and honorable.”

“Don’t say that, sweetheart. You don’t know—”

“I know
you.
I feel in my heart”—she pressed his palm against her breast—“that I know everything about you.” She brought her lips to his and kissed him with such sweetness that he felt a great swell of joy wash over him.

“Willa. My sweet Willa—” The words came from him in a tormented whisper. “It’s going to be hard waiting to make you mine.”

“—And you mine,” she whispered, her eyes shining like the stars overhead. “Smith, darling . . . we don’t have to wait. You’re my mate for life . . . in my heart.”

“Sweetheart!” He felt a tremor run through him as if the earth they were lying on were shaking.

“Have I shocked you?” Her voice came against lips that
were tormenting hers. An insidious primitive desire was growing in both of them.

“We can’t . . . I want to tell you before we—” His voice trembled. It was Smith that drew back.

“I
don’t
want to know before. This is my way of saying that I love you, trust you, believe in you with all my heart. Some day when we’re old and gray and sitting in our chairs before the fire, you can tell me about every day of your life, but not now.”

“You’d give yourself to me . . . here?”

“I’ll not be
giving
anything. We’ll be sharing.”

“Oh, God! It purely scares hell out of me to think that I may never have found you.”

“I know of no better place for a man and a woman to consummate their love than here on God’s earth beneath a blanket of stars.”

Smith felt moisture fill his eyes. Here in his arms was a treasure he would cherish until the end of his days. Her hands were at the buttons on his shirt. She opened it wide and snuggled against his bare chest. Smith’s head was spinning, and he thought before reality slipped farther away that he must be gentle with her—something he’d never had to think about before.

“Do you want me to take off my dress?” She spoke with her mouth against his flesh.

“Do you . . . want to?”

“Yes. Yes, I do. It’s so big it’ll come off over my head.” Willa moved out of his arms and sat up. “It isn’t my dress,” she said as she untied the sash. “I don’t even own a dress,” she went on nervously. “I’ve nothing of my own.”

“You’ve got me,” he said quietly.

“Then I’m the richest woman in the world.”

He watched as she removed the dress. Beneath it she wore
a chemise, also much too large for her slender form. The straps slipped from her arms as she let the garment fall to her waist. Her shoulders and pink-tipped breasts gleamed in the moonlight. Smith drew in a ragged breath and a small sound came from his throat at the sight of her round, firm breasts.

She was so open, so honest, so . . . beautiful.

“Willa, love, you’re so pretty,” he whispered and reached for her.

Her arms slid up to encircle his neck and she pressed her breasts to his chest. Her mouth was soft and sweetly giving against his. He sank down on his back, bringing her with him. She stretched out beside him, her cheek against his shoulder. While they kissed, his hands softly stroked her back and hips.

“You’re my love,” he whispered.

“You’ll have to show me what to do.”

“Loving like this is new to me, too.” His rough calloused fingers found her nipple and stroked it. He felt a tremor go through her. She reached for his lips and kissed him with a hunger that both surprised and thrilled him.

“Are you going to take off your britches?”

“In a minute,” he said when he could get his breath. “I don’t want to scare you.”

“I won’t be scared. I felt it against me when you sat me in front of you on the horse. At first I wasn’t sure what it was.” She giggled against his cheek. “But I knew what it was the night you kissed me on the porch.”

Smith chuckled. “It’s something I find hard to control. It happens when I’m with you.” He moved away from her, and in a moment he was back, spreading her dress and his shirt over them.

“Are you cold?”

“No. I’ll be careful of your leg—” she said when she felt the bandage against her.

“But . . . not too careful. Oh, love”—he gathered her to him, slipped his hand under the loose chemise, cupped her bottom and pressed her mound tightly against his hip—“you feel so good!”

“You too.”

Her palm moved down over his stomach and slid beneath his extended sex. Smith caught his breath sharply and waited as it settled on the back of her hand. Slowly she turned her hand and her fingers closed around him. He ground his teeth and tightened his buttocks. His desire for her was a deep pain gnawing his vitals. His large hand stroked her flat belly and down through crisp hair and into her moist depth. He whispered words of love, their meaning lost to her as he kissed her soft breasts, her shoulders and neck.

“I don’t want to be rough,” he breathed desperately. “My sweet love . . . I can’t wait much longer!”

“Don’t . . . wait—”

He turned her gently, moved over her and sought entrance. He filled her completely with one deep thrust. The pain-pleasure was so intense that she cried out his name.

“Oh, my God! I’ve hurt you,” he moaned and tried to withdraw. Her frantic hands on his buttocks kept him from leaving her.

“No! We fit, darling. We fit perfectly.”

She arched to fit herself more completely with his throbbing maleness. He probed urgently, increasing the pulsing rhythm to an unbearable tempo that brought her nearer and nearer to the fulfillment her body sought. Suddenly she felt deep, thrilling spasms of exquisite pleasure, and from somewhere she heard Smith’s soft, triumphant cry.

Willa became aware that her hands were clasping Smith’s tight buttocks, his hair on her cheek as he rested face-down. He was still huge and deep inside her, but the waves of frenzied pleasure that had ripped through her were subsiding.
Now she felt a burning desire to comfort and pleasure him. She moved her hands over his back and turned her lips to his cheek. His heart was still thundering against hers. And finally when he eased over onto his side, he took her with him, reluctant to part from her.

Covered with the skirt of her dress, they lay face to face, her soft belly tight against his hard one. They kissed for a long time, as if it were the first time they had kissed, as if there couldn’t be anything beyond a kiss.

“Hello, wife,” he said against her mouth.

“Hello, dearest husband.”

“Someone’s watching us.”

“No! Who?”

“Buddy.” He laughed deep in his throat.

“You . . . tease! You scared me.”

“I want to see this in the daylight.” He had a handful of firm breast.

“Tomorrow I’ll not wear a shirtwaist.” She giggled and nipped his chin.

“You’d better, or I’ll swat your butt,” he growled. “These are mine.” His lips nuzzled the soft flesh in his hand.

“Yes, darling, all yours.”

They kissed, while learning each other with their hands.

“Your skin is so smooth—”

“Yours is soft.”

She wiggled her hand down between them, amazed to discover how completely they were joined. Her brilliantly alive eyes laughed up at him. Her face was damp and covered with a happy smile.

A little noise came from his throat, and he began to move his hips rapidly as gentleness gave way to greed. His need was a tumultuous pressure in his groin. His movements became frenzied. She urged him on with wild abandon, giving her love with unbridled recklessness, wanting to give . . . give.
She drew him deeper and deeper into her as if she could hold him to her forever, chaining him to her with bonds of warm flesh.

Finally her own body splintered and fell apart. During her shuddering convulsions he poured his stream of life into her, his heart pounding violently in that final moment of fulfillment. She held him with all her strength while violent tremors continued to rock his powerful body. Then she heard hoarsely whispered words in her ear.

“I feel as if I have come home after a long, lonely journey through the Badlands.” Slowly he pulled himself out of her, sighed deeply and placed his blond head on her breasts.

She lay quiet and stroked the damp hair from his brow. Love for him filled her heart. She delighted in the sensation of his warm body pressed close to hers, the weight of his head on her breast, and reached for his discarded shirt to cover his back. Never had she felt so complete.

They were enclosed in their own private world. Time disappeared as if by magic. Willa relished the night breeze swirling over them like a caress. She gazed up at the sky. Tonight the stars were brilliant against a velvet background. The moon looked as if someone had hung it just over the treetops.

A thought entered Willa’s mind and she began to laugh. Smith lifted his head from her breast, leaned over her and kissed the smile on her lips.

“What was so funny all of a sudden?”

“It’s nothing, darling. I was just wondering what Maud would say if she knew what we’ve been doing on her expensive drapery.”

26

J
o Bell stomped out of the lawyer’s office, slammed the door behind her, and marched down the boardwalk. Vince moved away from the wall where he had been leaning and hurried to catch up with her.

“What’s the matter, honey? What’d the man say?”

“He laughed is what he done. Laughed! Uncle Oliver only owned half of the ranch and he left it to that old Billy Whiskers. Smith’ll get it all when old Billy dies. It ain’t fair!” she wailed.

“And ya can’t get none of it even if you’re next of kin?”

“The way that ugly old fart put it, I’ve got as much chance as it snowin’ in hell.”

“That ain’t much chance, hon. But it ain’t the end of the world.”

“It is too!”

“I’ve got a little money left.”

“I got a dollar or two,” she lied.

“I got eight. If we’re careful till I can get a job we’ll be all right.”

“Shut up! Just shut up. I got to think.” Jo Bell walked
alongside the young cowboy, her head down, a mutinous look on her face. At the double doors that opened into the lobby of the hotel, she said crossly, “Bye, Vince.”

“Bye?” He put his hand on her shoulder and turned her to face him.

When she saw the puzzled look on his face, she dimpled sweetly. “Bye for now, I mean. I’m tired and got to think ’bout thin’s.”

His face relaxed. “All right, hon. I’ll come back after you’ve rested. Don’t worry your pretty little head. We’ll get by.”

Jo Bell forced herself to stand still while his hands caressed her shoulders.

“Yore sweet, Vince. I don’t know what I’d do without ya.”

“Go on now and rest. I’ll be back and we’ll decide what we’re goin’ to do.”

As soon as she turned away from him the smile left her face. It wouldn’t do to get rid of him now, she thought. Although she still had the rings, the watch and the money, she might have use for him later. She straightened her shoulders, lifted her chin as her papa had taught her to do and entered the hotel.

The interior was dim compared to the bright sunlight outside. Jo Bell didn’t see the woman who rose from the deep leather chair in the middle of the lobby.