His Most Wanted (11 page)

“Oh, I understand. Now I
know
you can pull the trigger. Turn around, aim and put a bullet in that board before I change my mind about this lesson and decide to carry you into the barn to take up where we left off this morning.” Dropping his hands from her, he backed away a few steps.

Her mouth fell open as surprise and hot outrage rolled over her. “After all I just told you?” How dare he make light of her situation.

“Don't get mad at me. Get mad at the next man who dares to touch you. If I'm not by your side, I want you to be able to blast him into the next county.”

“You don't want me…arrested? You don't worry that I might be dangerous?”

He shook his head slowly, smirking. “No, of course not, but I never said you weren't dangerous.”

Her anger boiled over, and she shoved at his shoulder. “Damn it, Kit! Do you think this is a game?” He never could keep a straight face and talk about anything of importance, like the things that really mattered—the matters of the heart. “Be serious.” A new tear rolled from her eye.

She needed him to understand. He was the only one who might. If he didn't…couldn't…

“Hell, Cora. I'm an ass.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his chest. With her ear pressed against his body, she heard the long intake of his breath and felt comforted again. The rage and frustration immediately dissipated as he held her. Then his knuckles brushed her cheek, his touch softer than a whisper. He murmured, “I want you to live your life and not have to worry. I know I can't rid the world of all the bastards and give you false promises that you'll always be safe, but I'm damned sure gonna do my best to help you. I can teach you things. Show you how to put a bullet in a target that'll stop a man. And then…I'm gonna give you a taste of what you've been missing.”

Did he really believe her?

It was too good to be true. She'd told him everything about Sidlow. He, of all people, knew the feeling of wanting to shoot and actually doing it. Did he think she'd done the right thing by stopping the sheriff's advances? He still thought she was worth helping?

He must.

A jolt of relief rocked her. “Thank you.” Standing on her toes, she kissed his lips. He believed her. He believed, and he hadn't even flinched when she'd taken the gun from his hand. She kissed both of his cheeks as surprise and delight flashed across his handsome features. “All right. I'll show you just how awful I am as a marksman.”

Confidence renewed, she turned, aimed and pulled the trigger. The shot rang out, the bullet disappearing somewhere over the empty pasture. “See what I mean?” She tossed a glare at him over her shoulder.

“Try again,” he murmured, moving up behind her. His hands touched her back, sliding around her shoulders and coming to rest atop hers. “Keep your arms perfectly straight, holding one hand beneath the other like this.” His large hands covered hers, tan, muscular forearms wrapping hers like bars of steel. He leveled the gun with her nose. “Peer straight down the barrel, legs spread wide since the pistol will kick. Brace yourself.” His hips rubbed against hers, and he took a quick breath.

She smiled, her rising confidence. “I see what you mean. I feel stronger already.”

“Yes, think of yourself like a rooted tree. Hard and unyielding. One look at you and your opponent will think twice before approaching.” He kissed her earlobe, saying nothing of his present state of arousal though he could have.

It was only natural, standing so close like they were. But he kept his usual flirty words and actions banked, for once. She recognized he was giving her time—as he'd been doing since he'd learned she'd been victimized. Time to come to him on her own.

Desire unfurled slowly in her belly, like water lapping the riverbanks at midnight. The man was the balm for whatever seemed to ail her—always able to take the troubles from her mind.

“Now take a step forward,” he whispered.

“Why?” She had the target in her sights. Wasn't she ready to pull the trigger?

“If the bastard hasn't already turned and fled after your first shot, you move toward him. It shows you're not all hat and no cattle.”

“Got it.” Leaving the comfort of Kit's embrace, she took three steps closer to the target, still leaving a good distance to shoot.

“Now, if your aim is true, just squeeze the trigger, darlin'.”

Power and courage coursed through her. Nobody was going to mess with her ever again.

Her shot rang out. The wood bounced, splinters flying.

Lowering the weapon, she spun to face Kit as her heart thrummed. “I did it!”

He shared her smile. “Yes, you did.”

“Shall I try another?”

“You could…or you could save some bullets for another day and maybe take a dip in the creek with me. It's hot out, and we're tired, like you said.” He angled his head meaningfully at the shade trees where she made out Ben's form leaning against the foot of an elm, shifting as if to find a comfortable resting position.

They'd have the creek and the house to themselves.

“Why, yes, Sheriff. I think I could use a swim.”

Chapter Eleven

Free. Completely, exhilaratingly free. She had no better explanation for the way Kit made her feel. Away from her business, the customers and the burden of being
Grace
, she had time to enjoy just being alive for a day.

Smiling, she tugged Kit's hand, leading him upstairs and into the freshly cleaned bedroom.

Although she hadn't experienced the completeness of their union, she sensed the potential for great pleasure with Kit. If he took her again, perhaps she might share the fulfillment. Already she'd found him a better lover than any man before and had actually
liked
what they'd done in the bathtub before he finished.

Once inside the room, he kicked the door shut, still grinning and his hair damp from their brief swim, but his expression shifted to one of surprise when he glanced around at what she'd accomplished. “Mercy!”

She dropped his hand and backed toward the bed. “The walls could use a coat of paint.”

His gaze swung from his bemused study of the bedroom to her face. “You've pulled all this off in a day?” Gratitude shone in his eyes, making every minute of her effort worthwhile.

She shrugged. “I really liked doing something on my own.” Back at the Willows, she only got to work with the financial ledgers, balancing the expenses, arranging social events on paper for the club's calendar. The upkeep of the building had always been the responsibility of hired carpenters and the ladies she employed. She hadn't realized the sense of accomplishment that she'd been missing. “It felt good to work with my hands for a change.”

At her words, his expression intensified. He compressed his lips as his gaze dropped lower, probably imagining other uses for her hands. Clearly, rest wasn't in his plans for their time alone.

Since he liked watching her undress, she unbuttoned her bodice slowly, exposing her skin to him inch by inch while he looked on, leaning against the bedpost in an almost reverent state.

“Take your hair down too.”

His gravelly voice tugged at her insides. She removed her hair pins, letting them fall to the floor as her hair spilled down over her shoulders.

“It's even more lovely than I'd imagined.” His eyes glowed in the soft sunlight seeping through the clean curtains she'd hung.

Once she'd rid herself of her clothes and gun, she closed the space between them and put her hands on his chest. “Now for your clothes, Sheriff.”

“Yes, ma'am.” He gave her another saucy, lopsided smile, and grabbed his belt buckle.

“Not so fast, mister.” She dropped her hands to his, stopping him. He'd been in such a hurry when he'd undressed at the creek. Now she wanted to savor him slowly like a lemon cream pie on a lazy summer day. One bite at a time.

He sighed with appreciation as she undid his top button and kissed the golden triangle of skin she'd exposed. With every button she unfastened, she kissed another section of his taut skin until she had his shirt open. He held her shoulders as she went for his buckle, his flesh hard and straining for release by the time she freed him.

Kneeling before him, she grasped his buttocks and kissed the steely plane of his stomach.

“Cora, I swear—” he hissed and clasped her shoulders, gently guiding her to her feet, “—I want this time to be different for you.” His throat worked as he swallowed, visibly restraining himself.

She blinked. Up until now, everything had seemed so perfect, but his hard expression filled her with a chill of doubt.

“But I like what I'm doing.” Her cheeks flared with heat.

He brought a gentle hand to her face. “Oh, sweetheart, it makes me excessively happy you do.” He grinned and kissed her mouth. Holding her cheek in his palm and staring deep into her eyes, he rested his forehead against hers. “I'm yours for as long as you want. But right now, I'm determined to hear my name on your sweet lips, and I don't mean callin' me in for supper.”

Her cheeks heated again as he bent down for another kiss, his tongue caressing her bottom lip before sweeping inside to tease hers. When he broke the kiss, her body seemed to float on the lingering sensation. She sighed. “Mmm. That was—”

Kit laid his finger across her lips. “Shhh. Not done yet.”

He kicked out of his pants and boots and then straightened to look down at her with warmth in his eyes.

Encouraged, she smiled. Lifting her arms around his shoulders, she intended to bring his head down to hers for more, but he surprised her first, scooping her off her feet.

“Gracious.” Squeezing her eyes shut against the height, she clung to his neck.

“I won't drop you. You weigh less than a minute,” he teased as he carted her to settle on the bed. Bracing a knee beside her, he leaned over and kissed her forehead, cheek and neck. Then he ran his thumb gently across her lips, letting it linger and holding her gaze as he stared at her for a long, dizzying moment. The room and everything around them seemed to evaporate to nothing, leaving them completely alone. “Speak to me only with your body, Cora. I want to hear the sound of your breathing, how much you like what I'm doing. Will you promise me that?”

“I promise.” She spoke against his thumb and touched him with the tip of her tongue. Kit's eyes closed, and he gave her more of his digit, keeping his body inches from hers. She nibbled and sucked his thumb while sliding her hands down his lean torso. He opened his eyes with a gasp and withdrew to scold her with a wag of his finger and a smirk.

Keeping his own directive, however, Kit said nothing, instead kissing her deeply again before descending in a blazing trail down her neck and her side. She felt his slow path circle her breast and his fingers span across her ribs. Her nipples ached, remembering the exquisite sensation of his mouth.

Threading her fingers in his hair, she arched her back, turning slightly on the bed toward him. He lifted his face, looked her in the eye and gave a negative shake of his head.

Not yet.

Oh. No wonder the brute had made her promise.

She curled her bottom lip into a pout. He smiled in return and went back to his kisses, forming a languid path across her stomach, dipping his tongue into her navel, before traveling back up her midsection. Reaching across her, his body hovered close—so close she could feel the tiny hairs of his body teasing her skin, kindling a thousand tiny fires in their path. She melted inside, heat rapidly pooling lower and lower in her belly.

Her toes curled against the bed as he came for her breasts at last and took a nipple inside the heat of his mouth. “Ahhh…”

He lifted his head and cool air instantly hit her taut bud. “Shh. I want only one sound from your lips.”

She nodded, biting her tongue. Of course, she would try harder. Anything to bring his mouth and touch back.
Scoundrel!

His heavy erection rested on her leg, and she gasped. Before when they'd made love in the bath, she'd felt some discomfort at his entry. He'd been large then, but beneath the sudsy water, she hadn't been able to see their bodies join. The union now, in daylight, brought new concerns. How could she pretend to enjoy him the way he intended if he was so thick? She was experienced, of course, but she wasn't one of her girls, well-practiced in the arts of the bedroom.

As if sensing her thoughts, he slowed, swirling his tongue around each nipple, taking his sweet time as he ran his hands across her body, playing his fingers over her flesh like a musician's over an instrument. Soon she heard her breathing change like the airy notes on a woodwind, tuning at his skillful artistry. Delight spun through her.

After a while, he dipped his hand between her legs and stroked her sex, spreading her dew in a sensual circle that had her biting her lip to keep words from tumbling out—though what she had to say was surely mindless rubbish. Her skin went feverish as she clung to him, gripping the back of his neck.

But even after he'd admonished her from speaking, she couldn't help the whimper of desire that escaped her mouth when he moved between her legs. He replaced the rhythm of his fingers with his intimate kiss, his tongue stroking her with wild decadence that had her aching for more. Her knees drew up beside his dark head and her fingers caressed his scalp. She sensed herself growing more savage with hunger with every passing moment.
Soon. Very soon.
Each second, she turned more feral, uncontrolled. Another whimper came from deeper in her chest.

This time, he broke his rule and groaned into her flesh. Her insides quivered in response. Surely now was the time—

“Kit,”
she bit out, tilting her hips.

He lifted his head and broke into a dazzling smile. “Shhh. Almost.” Rising above her, he wrapped his hands underneath her, molding to the curves of her backside. His body arched above hers as he brought her up to meet his thrust and entry.

Her pleasure was instantaneous, pure splendor, his size providing exactly what she needed. He drew back and pushed forward, deeper, his hands exploring her body as she took over, grinding her hips to his rhythm. His mouth began an exploration of its own, kissing, nibbling, everywhere at once, while he moved over her, a mountain of sinew and warm skin.

Kit was a marvel. She longed to tell him where her body begged to be touched, but he was right. She had no need for words. He was there, at every nook, every line, every aching point, answering her cravings with exactly what she needed, guided by instinct alone.

Now, pleasure coming to a head, her legs clenched him, her inner muscles tightening as the pressure within broke and his calculated motions brought her writhing to a spiraling climax. His name tore from her lungs as she met his thrust.

Oh, Christ!

It was all he could do to keep from spilling into her at the sound of her cry and the feel of her throbbing release, but he wasn't done yet. Far from it.

Although Cora had admitted she was no practiced lover, her lovemaking had him feeling like the youth he'd been his first time, when he'd paid his way into a lady's bed. Only now he wasn't with a bought whore, but with a woman he'd desired with an ever-escalating need, a woman he respected and hoped to please. God, yes, he hoped to bring her the pleasure she'd been missing all those years, and the fact that she'd chosen
him
—worthless idler that he was—as her lover made him try all the harder.

Cora's legs tightened around him, bringing him deeper inside as she gripped him in her slick core, refusing to yield to her initial spasms. She urged him under the waves with her, drawing him down the whirlpool of ecstasy that was her climax, a wild, crashing surf beating against her shores. He couldn't look away from her face, her expressions, wanting to experience every moment of her victory over the past, longing to bring her the delights she'd been missing all her adult life. Suddenly it came to him with a surge of emotion…

He was no longer the self-centered man his uncle had accused him of being.

He lifted her into his arms as he filled her, embracing her completely as joy sent him soaring. His expression must've shown it, because when he looked into her eyes again, pleasure reflected there. She gave another adorable moan as she came. The sweetness of the sound was his last undoing. He gave her all he had—a quaking climax that turned his body into steel—and then collapsed with her in his arms.

Cora nestled against him, and he pressed tiny kisses to the crown of her forehead, loving the feel of her slick body against his.

“This day has meant more to me than you'll ever know,” she said in a shy, breathless voice as she traced a pattern on his chest with a fingertip.

His heart constricted.
This day.
Somehow, those two tiny words pierced his soul. Of course he would have to return to town with her soon. Sheriffs weren't supposed to have bordello madams for lovers. That unwanted thought was enough to make him wish he'd told the mayor where he could hang his badge.

Worse, she would return to her place, the club frequented by men—some even more contemptible and dangerous than himself. There, she would continue her command of the tight ship, barking out orders and rules that kept her ladies safe and prosperous. Admirably so. Or perhaps now that he'd freed her from her dark fears and mistrust of
all
men, she would take other lovers too. Paying clients.

Of course she might. Who was he to say otherwise?

No.
His soul howled deep inside.

Cora mustn't go back.