Lauri Robinson (5 page)

Firmly, with both hands, Jake held her as he suckled and drew on her until a great commotion twisted her hips. Arching into the tumult, she dug her heels into the mattress as a long, low moan rumbled up her throat and over her lips, while a gratifying release fanned through her system.

Barely catching snippets of air, she held her arms up when Jake scaled her body with his and grasped his wide shoulders with both hands as his thighs settled between hers.

“How you doing?” he asked, kissing her neck.

“Wonderful,” she answered, on the verge of squealing with glee.

“Ready for more?”

“You bet.” Arching her hips, she met his thrust with a natural ease she hadn’t known existed. The connection, his entrance, was incredible, surpassed all she’d already experienced, and the quick, snapping bite of pain, so insignificant, had her wondering why others complained of it. She’d have endured ten-fold that minor twinge for this moment. When Jake was finally, wholly and completely hers.

Kissing him, she claimed the deepest caverns of his mouth as her very own and pressed her palms into the curve of his back, riding the slow, easy rhythm he began. With perfection, his hot, fabulous length slid in and then slowly withdrew, only to enter her again. The repeats, over and over, were agonizingly superb.

Each stroke took her higher, as he had before, to worlds that didn’t exist anywhere else. They were more beautiful this time, more intense and fiery because Jake was with her. Kissing her. Loving her.

She rode each wave like an ocean liner, peaking and plummeting with flawlessness that captivated her completely. Passion built inside her, between them, making the thrusts faster, the waves higher, and she clutched his solid form harder. Her mind swirled, her breasts ached, and her core swelled with pressure that stiffened her hips.

“Jake,” she shouted, arching against his chest. “Jake!”

His moan contained her name, and it reverberated in her ears, over her body as a brilliant storm erupted between them, showering her with satisfaction that only increased when he tightened his arms around her and his kiss swallowed her whimpers of pure fulfillment.

Chapter Seven

Propped against the headboard, pillows behind his shoulders and Stacy, wonderful, loveable Stacy, snuggled against his side, Jake brushed a kiss to her temple. Now able to think, his mind more stable than earlier, he asked, “So, I’m supposed to be jealous of Sinclair?”

He was, there was no doubt about that, but he was also jealous of his deputy and every other man Stacy looked at.

Curling her leg so her knee settled between his thighs, she giggled. “Well, that was my plan.”

“Oh?”

She nodded. “I needed to stack the deck, and Adam fit all the things I needed in one.”

“And those are?”

Between her knee and the fingertip circling his nipple, he didn’t hold much hope in lasting long enough for her explanation. He caught her hand, kissed a knuckle.

She sighed and tilted her head to look up at him. “One, he is to win back anything Ratcliff swindled while I was gone. Two, he was supposed to pretend to be…well, my beau, if you were showing indifference to me, and three—”

“Indifference?” He caught her beneath the chin. “I’ve never shown indifference to you.”

Her blue eyes were sparkling like they held stars. “You did say I wasn’t a very good kisser.”

“I lied,” he admitted.

“I know,” she answered smugly.

The back of his head bumped the headboard as he laughed. “All right, what’s three?”

“He is to ask to court Emma.” She laid her head on his shoulder again. “Just until you and I are wed and she sets her cap at someone else.”

“And Sinclair’s doing all this because…”

Tracing a circle on his chest again, she said, “Because he owes me a lot of money from a few years ago. We’re even once he completes his duties.”

Jake shook his head. She was a wonder. The marvelous little gambler.

Quiet for a few minutes, she let out an audible sigh before asking, “Jake?”

His eyes were closed as he luxuriated in the satisfaction surrounding him. “Hmm?”

“Could you talk to the township council?” She shifted, sat up beside him. “Ask them to pass a law that no bets over fifty dollars will be allowed anywhere within the township?”

Brushing a clump of hair off her bare shoulder, he kissed the area before asking, “Why?”

“Because, even after Adam and Ratcliff leave town, another gambler might arrive.”

He lifted a brow. “So?”

“So, I don’t want people losing their homes or businesses.” Leaning close, she rubbed her nose against his. “Because my gambling days are over.”

The question was out before he could stop it. “They are?”

She smiled and honesty glowed in her eyes. “It was never the gambling, Jake. I know that now. I was just like you. Trying to find something to fill a void that could only be completed by one thing, that one person who matters above all else. You’re the only one I want to play with.”

His response was to kiss her long and hard. Afterward he whispered, “I’ll make sure you never miss it.”

“What? Gambling?”

He nodded. “And make sure you have whatever you want.”

The look she gave him held mock disbelief. “Sheriff McCrery, after winning you, what more could I possibly want?” Shaking her head so the shimmering locks swirled around her shoulders, she eyed him saucily. “Other than a few little McCrerys.”

* * *

A month later, his gorgeous little wife jumped up and down at Jake’s side, waving a hand overhead.

“Pappy! Pappy!”

A man with his gray hair parted straight down the middle and wearing a bright green twill suit waved back, grinning from ear to ear as he stepped off the train steps.

“Come on, Jake,” she said, pulling on his arm. “Hurry.”

Chuckling at her excitement, he picked up his steps and they met Patrick Blackwell, along with an attractive, middle-aged woman, in the center of the crowded platform.

Stacy wrapped her arms around her grandfather. “Oh, Pappy, it’s so wonderful to see you.”

“It’s good to see you, too, baby girl. Real good.” After the hug, Patrick waved to the woman next to him. “You remember Opal.”

“Oh, yes,” Stacy said, embracing the woman as well. “How are you Mrs. Flint?”

“It’s Mrs. Blackwell now, dear,” the woman answered brightly.

Jake held his breath, wondering how his wife would react to that. Not even an ounce of the actress she used to portray showed as she shrieked and hugged the woman again.

“That’s wonderful!” Grabbing Jake’s arm with both hands, she whispered, “I always wondered about those two.” Still smiling, she turned back to the older couple. “Speaking of marriages, Pappy, Opal, I’d like you to meet my husband, Sheriff Jake McCrery.”

Her introduction filled him with pride, and stepping forward Jake held out a hand. “Mr. Blackwell, Mrs. Blackwell.”

While shaking his hand, the man eyed him as critically as Stacy had a time or two. “Call me Patrick, or Pappy.” He then clasped Jake’s shoulder and tugged him forward to whisper, “You hurt my baby girl and I’ll skin you like a rabbit.”

“I give you my solemn promise,” Jake said with complete reverence. “You have nothing to worry about.”

“Good enough then,” Patrick said. A frown formed over his thick gray brows. “Where’s the rest of the family? I thought everything was patched up.”

“Oh, it is,” Stacy assured. “Everyone’s over at the hotel. We have a big welcome party waiting for you.”

Jake grinned as she looped one arm with his, the other with her grandfather’s. All had been patched up, when she said let bygones be bygones, she meant it. The day after her return, she’d ridden out to the Blackwell ranch and set things straight. Of course, Sinclair fawning over Emma helped.

The next few hours were filled with festivities, and by the time Jake walked his wife home, he was due to make a night round of town. Kissing her soundly, he said, “I’ll be back within the hour. Just have to check the doors.”

“I’ll be waiting.” She gave him and extra hard hug. “It was the best day, ever, wasn’t it?”

“It was,” he answered, kissing her nose. “But it’s not over yet.”

The promising glimmer in her eyes stuck with him and was still there when he entered their house a short time later. Having noticed that only their bedroom held a lit lamp, he hurried up the steps, already anticipating what was to come.

She was sitting in the middle of the bed with the covers folded back, and shuffling a deck of cards. “What are you doing?” he asked, tossing his hat onto a chair.

“I think seeing Pappy made me miss gambling.”

A chill had Jake stopping near the foot of the bed. “Oh?”

She nodded and then pointed to where his fingers stalled on the top button of his shirt. “Leave that on.”

He realized then that she was fully dressed, even still had her boots on. “Where are we going?”

“We,” she said pointedly, “are not going anywhere.”

“Oh?” was the only thing he could think to say again. She hadn’t gambled, not once in the past month, had never even mentioned it. Yet, he remembered those first few months, how the urge had pulled at him. “Stac—”

“We are going to play a game, Sheriff.” She shuffled the cards, splayed them wide in her hands. “A simple game I think you’ll like.” Tilting her head, giving a little gesture toward the mattress, she added, “Right here in our bed.”

Excitement had things standing at attention inside him and his britches. “Oh, what game is that?”

“High-low.” Holding up a card, she explained, “The person with the high card gets to tell the person with the low card what piece of clothing to remove.”

A growled rolled out of his mouth as he crawled over the footboard to stretch out beside her. “I feel like Herman, playing checkers by himself. I’m going to win no matter what.”

Her giggle filled the room. “You wanna bet?”

“Yeah,” he answered. “I wanna bet.”

* * * * *

Don’t miss these other Harlequin Historical Undone titles by Lauri Robinson available now:

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Her Midnight Cowboy
Nights with the Outlaw
Disobeying the Marshal
Testing the Lawman’s Honor

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Capturing the Silken Thief
by Jeannie Lin
How to Tempt a Viscount
by Margaret McPhee
The Unrepentant Rake
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Craving something a little longer? Find more historical romantic adventure from Harlequin Historical at
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Interested in writing for Harlequin Historical UNDONE? Send your submission to
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About the Author

Lauri Robinson’s chosen genre to write is western
historical. When asked why, she says, “Because I know I wasn’t the only girl who
wanted to grow up and marry Little Joe Cartwright.”

With a degree in early childhood education, Lauri has spent
decades working in the non-profit field and claims once upon a time and happily
ever after romance novels have always been a form of stress relief. When her
husband suggested she write one, she took the challenge and has loved every
minute of the journey.

Lauri lives in rural Minnesota where she and her husband
spend every spare moment with their three grown sons and four grandchildren. She
works part time, volunteers for several organizations, and is a diehard Elvis
and NASCAR fan. Her favorite getaway location is the woods of northern Minnesota
on the land homesteaded by her great-grandfather.

ISBN: 978-14592-2810-8

The Sheriff’s Last Gamble

Copyright © 2012 by Lauri Robinson

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