Rafe's Redemption (18 page)

Damn. He should just keep drinking and quit thinking. Once again he could see her in the tiny wash tub. Nipples rosy from the hot water, legs hanging over the edge…

He groaned at the memory, his cock stiff against his pants.

“I’m sorry.” No doubt she thought she caused him pain. She had, but not in his arm. “A lmost finished.” He nodded. “It’s fine.” A nother drink burned down his throat.

“Where’s Wolf?”

“I put him in the barn. Didn’t want him getting riled up over all the blood.”

“Oh. Well, I’ll clean it up as soon as I’m finished with this so he can come inside.”

Sweat beaded her upper lip and forehead as she concentrated. Using his good arm, he poured himself another whiskey. Then another. The pain wasn’t too bad now.

“There. What do you think?” She leaned back and studied her work.

He looked down at the long, neat row of stitches.

“Looks real good.” He gave her a smile. “Thank you.”

“Just let me get a rag and clean the blood off you.

Then you should lie down.”

She started to wet a rag, but he stopped her. “No need. I’ll just get into your bath.”

Her eyes widened. “It’s likely cold.”

“Then I won’t stay in long.” He winked, then drained the cup. No doubt about it, the pain was almost gone.

She chewed her lip as he pulled his good arm from the union suit. “I don’t know…at least let me heat another bucket of water to add to the tub.”

He watched her walk to the door and step outside to fill bucket with snow. When she turned, her nipples puckered from the cold.

No amount of whiskey could keep him from noticing that.

She sat the bucket beside the fire to heat and picked up the jug.

“One more before you put it away.” He held out his empty cup.

“What if you get hurt again? Shouldn’t you leave some for the next time?”

He grinned and held out his cup. “Please? A nd I wondered if you could do one more thing?” Her dark brows puckered.

“Help me with my boots?” She looked as he lifted a foot. “It’s hard to do without both hands.” She grabbed hold of the toe and pulled. “They’re stuck.”

“No. You’ll have to turn around. Straddle my leg and pull from the heel.”

She thumped the jug onto the table and stepped across his legs.

Oh, bad idea. Bad idea. His cock damn near exploded, the tingling urgency shooting up from his balls as she fought with his boots. Her rounded hips wiggled with each tug of the tight leather, her damn shirt stuck to pale ass cheeks, tempting him to say forget his arm and fuck this woman.

A bead of sweat rolled down his temple. He shouldn’t torture himself like this.

Close your eyes. He couldn’t.

“There.” She dropped the last boot to the floor and brushed the hair from her eyes. “You should consider new boots. Those are too tight.”

He nodded. If he tried to speak he’d make a fool of himself.

She stepped into the larder. “I’ll wait in here while you undress. Tell me when you’re in the water.” He stepped out of his clothes and climbed into the tub. “You can come out now.” He downed the last whiskey.

She came out but stayed behind him. Damn his bad luck. He wanted to look at her.

Bristles scratched against the floor as she scrubbed the blood stains, and he groaned, imagining the bounce of her breasts with each stoke of the brush.

“I’m sorry there’s nothing to give you for pain.” He glanced over his shoulder at her and grinned.

“I’m not feeling much pain.” The empty cup dangled from one finger.

She pursed her lips. “Maybe not. But tomorrow will be a different story.”

He chuckled. If she was trying to sound stern, she failed.

“Well, I’m making coffee anyway.” She stood and listed to reach the cup.

“Wait.” He grabbed her hand before she walked away. “Will you do something else for me first?” Her nod jiggled her breasts. He swallowed hard almost desperate enough—drunk enough—to ask for what he really wanted. Her pussy surrounding his cock.

A lmost.

“Wash my back?” Coward.

Her gaze flew to his. “But you’re naked.” Rafe smiled. “So were you awhile ago. I didn’t complain.” A nd he wasn’t complaining now. The firelight turned her shirt transparent. “You don’t want me to get my stitches all wet, do you?”

“I suppose not.” She set the empty cup on the floor and knelt behind the tub.

He passed the soap over his shoulder. “Thank you.” The first touch was heaven. Silky, soft hands smoothing over his aching shoulders. A nd hell. Her caress sparking a sensual fire hot enough to toast the devil. “Mmm. That feels good.”

She worked the tense muscles, her palms strong and warm. He leaned forward tempting her to slide lower, lower. “A ll finished,” she announced, climbing to her feet.

Well, he wasn’t. A gain he grabbed her hand, pulling her to his side. “One more favor?” He rubbed lazy circles in her wet palm, hoping she didn’t notice his cock-head stretching past the water level. “Wash my hair?” She caught her lip between her teeth. A deep breath tightened her shirt, and a frown puckered her brow. He couldn’t stand if she refused. A ll day he’d thought about her, kissing her. Probably why he almost lost an arm.

“Please? I might rip a stitch trying to do it myself.”

“A ll right. Lean your head back.” She knelt again, her heavy breasts brushing his shoulder. Her fingertips moved in long, slow circles, erasing all the reasons he avoided her touch, her breath came in soft pants beside his ear.

“God, Maggie. You’re going to put me to sleep.”

“Then I better let you finish your bath.” She stood to go.

This time he caught her by the wrist. “It’s not fair, you know?”

“What?”

“You helped me take this long, relaxing bath but didn’t get to finish yours.”

“It’s all right.”

“There’s one way I can make it up to you,” he drawled.

“How?”

“Share.”

He tugged her wrist, and she fell, her bottom landing on his lap. Water sloshed and splashed on to the floor as she sputtered.

“Rafe! I—my—my shirt is all wet.”

Wet and sheer. The cotton clung to her breasts like a second skin, her pebbled nipples pressed against the white muslin. Sweat popped out on his forehead, trickling down his temple along with the water from his hair.

“It’s no more wet than before, and I could see through it then.”

Her eyes rounded.

“Don’t be embarrassed. You’re beautiful.” He threaded his fingers through her hair, pulling her closer.

“I need to kiss you. Can I? I know we said—”

“Kiss me, Rafe.” The raw plea nearly stopped his heart.

The first touch was soft, just a brush of lips whispering over hers, a flick of tongue over the seam of her mouth. A low groan rumbled from her throat, the erotic sound burning into his memory. He wanted to hear that sound again.

Blood filled his groin, and he wiggled beneath her bare ass. She gasped, and he took full advantage. His tongue swept hers, teasing, darting in, out, then thrusting in long, slow strokes until she moaned his name, sliding deep into her sweetness, hungry, demanding.

Why had he ever decided they should stop kissing?

She whimpered and sucked the tip of his tongue.

Christ! Where had she learned that? Lust roared through him like a locomotive. He was going to explode if she did it again. Time to take control. He slanted his head and captured her mouth with long, hot strokes that he mimicked with his hands. Knee to shoulder, shoulder to thigh. He needed to touch her everywhere.

His hand cupped her breast and flicked her nipple.

“Do you like that?”

She smiled and slid her hands down his chest. “Do you?” She pinched his flat nipple.

Damn, he did. A tremor stole through his body.

“God, yes.”

She leaned in and kissed him, running the tip of her pink tongue over his lips. He couldn’t stop the curse that tore from him, couldn’t stop where this was going.

A gain, he stroked her body, inching her shirt over her soft belly, over her tangled hair, until the wet fabric plopped onto the floor. She shivered.

“Let me look at you, sweetheart.”

Her full breasts begged for attention. Lowering his head, he sucked the tip into his mouth and tugged a nipple between his teeth, nipped, licked.

“Rafe!” She arched beneath him and gripped his head.

“Easy.” He slid his fingers between her legs, over the slick, swollen folds of her pussy. Hot. Wet.

“Ohh.”

Her soft moan propelled his hands. Searching fingers strummed the distended nub buried beneath her curls.

She jerked and clamped her thighs around his wrist, silk around bone.

“Rafe…Rafe.”

“Shh.” He raised his head from her breast. “Do you want me to stop?”

His cock pounded. Trapped between their bodies was not where it belonged. He ached to be buried deep inside her pussy.

“Don’t stop.” When she met his gaze, her eyes were dark, hazy with desire. Her legs fell open allowing him to brush over her tender flesh.

“Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

“Y—yesss.”

He nuzzled her temple. “Mmm, you feel good to me.” He nibbled down her neck and sucked the spot behind her ear. Her sultry-sweet taste melted against his tongue.

With each circle of his fingers, she bucked, moving with him, splashing water onto the floor. Her nails pierced his good arm. Mewls of pleasure broke the thick silence. She arched against his hand, her breasts puckered and tempting. He suckled hard, biting her nipple as he worked her hot, slippery pussy.

“Oh! Oh, God. Rafe, please.” Her cries filled the room, stretched his cock beyond hard, pre-cum leaking from the slit as honey from her orgasm slicked his fingers. If she could help him out of this damn tub, he’d show them both pleasure.

Her voice faded as her head fell to his shoulder.

Long, dark hair floated around his arm, his chest, entangling him like a vine.

“A re you all right?”

“Mmm.” She smiled against his chest. “A re you?” No. He was hornier than hell and his legs were asleep. So was his ass. “Yeah.” He squirmed.

“Oh.” She jumped. “I should move off you. I’m too heavy.”

“No.” He held her to him. To hell with his numb ass.

“You’re perfect.”

She blushed and climbed out of the tub. He stared as she turned to face him. Gleaming and slick, she looked like a water nymph. A visual feast.

“I’ll get a—Oh,” she stammered. “Oh, dear.” He followed her glance. The purple head of his cock stuck above the water.

He shrugged. “I’ll be all right.”

Her eyes widened, then she took a deep breath and got on her knees beside the tub.

“You made me feel so good…Can I do that to you? If I touch…your—um—”

Oh, God. What was she offering?

“My cock.” He swallowed hard. “Do you want to?” She exhaled and nodded.

“Thank God.”

She offered her hand. “Let’s move to the bed. I’ll get you a towel.”

When he stood, she stopped mid-stride and stared.

He glanced down. His cock pointed at her with the accuracy of a divining rod.

She blushed and handed him the towel.

“Don’t you want to dry me?” He kept his voice low, teasing.

“Do you need me to?”

“No. But I wouldn’t stop you.” He chuckled, then dropped a quick kiss to her nose. No matter how much sophistication she pretended, Maggie was innocent. A nd he would enjoy every minute of corrupting her.

He stepped from the tub, ready to forget the towel and let the sheets dry his body.

Then the room tilted, the walls swaying like a branch in the wind.

Maggie wrapped an arm around his waist. “Maybe you better go over to the bed before you fall.”

“Maybe.” He used her like a crutch. Staggering, they shuffled to the bed. “I was going to ask for another drink, but since I need help walking, I’m sure you’d refuse.”

“Smart man,” she answered as he flopped face down on the mattress.

The bed felt so good. A nd Maggie’s hands felt better.

She toweled his legs, his feet. His ass. “Mmm. Don’t stop.” He reached for her hands. “There’s another place that needs attention.”

“I have to bandage your arm first. Do you have any salve?”

He sighed and closed his eyes.

“Rafe?”

“What?” He blinked.

“I need some salve.”

“Oh,” he sighed. “There’s a tin in my haversack under the bed.” He closed his eyes again. Wasn’t he supposed to stay awake for something?

“I’ll tear some strips from my old petticoats to wrap your arm.”

She sounded far away, but had to be the one pulling a blanket over his body. He yawned. Maybe he could rest

—just for a minute. Maggie wouldn’t mind. Then he could make love to her all night.

****

Being with him had been like nothing she’d expected.

Not that she’d known what to expect really. She’d seen that painting, and Nettie had told her the basics. But what Rafe had done couldn’t be basic. Otherwise women would chase men down the street, begging to be—