Sins of Summer (42 page)

When Chip entered and came toward them, Ben lifted a hand in greeting.

“Mind if I sit?”

“Help yourself. Do you know Marshal Kraus?”

“Yeah. How are you, Kraus?”

“Good, now that part of the reason I’m here has been settled.”

“Part?” Chip asked. “I thought you’d be making tracks back to report to the governor.”

“I’ve got a few loose ends to tie up.”

“Law work is never done, huh, Kraus?”

Chip talked of the lumber business and asked Kraus about milling operations in various parts of the territory. Ben had to
admit that Chip was good at conversation. He acted as if he hung on every word Kraus uttered. The barmaid brought several
more rounds of beer. Kraus told about catching a man who preyed on miners coming out of the gold fields.

“He was pretty slick-handed. He dressed the part of a miner with a trained jackass that would take off when he whistled. It
was a sight to see him.” He stopped talking and lifted his mug to his lips when Wiley’s gravelly voice came from behind them.

“I knowed it was Steven’s horse the minute I laid eyes on ’im.”

“He was shot?”

“Shot three times he was,” Wiley lowered his voice, but it still carried to the other table.

“The horse?”

“No, Steve Marz. McHenry says he’ll live, but he’ll be abed fer a spell.”

“That Clara is sure enjoying herself,” Chip said, his eyes going from Kraus to Ben.

“Yeah,” Ben answered. “Her customers won’t dare get rough with her now.”

Kraus was silent and taking small sips of his beer.

“Mrs. McHenry’s good at doctorin’.” Wiley thumped his beer glass down on the table. “Said he was pert nigh dead when he come
ta their door an’ hollered.”

Chip began to talk about the donkey engine while Wiley’s and his friend’s voices droned on behind Kraus.

“Did ya see him?”

“Yeah. He’s pert, but ain’t goin’ to be doin’ no cartwheels for a spell. ‘Twas strange. Louis was a dyin’ in one room an’
just across from it, Steven was gettin’ well.”

The barmaid came to the table. “How about another round, gents?”

“Not for me,” Kraus said. “I think I’ll get on back to the hotel.”

“I’ve had enough too.” Ben got to his feet. “I’ll walk back with you.”

“Well, if you two are leaving me, I’ll move up to the bar.” Chip stood. “I hope to see you again before you leave town, Kraus.
You too, Ben.”

“Thanks for the beer, Malone.”

Ben and Kraus made their way through the tables to the door and out into the night. Ben noticed how men made way for Kraus,
or rather for the badge he wore, and how he strutted by them as if he had a right to their deference.

“It’s good to be out away from that noise,” Ben said when they stepped out into the cool night air.

Kraus paused to light a cigar. “Saloons are filled with a bunch of know-it-alls hashing and rehashing something they know
nothing about.”

They walked down the boardwalk toward the hotel. Ben was eager to get back to Dory, but from the easy way he sauntered along
he appeared to be in no hurry. They passed Bessie’s restaurant. A light was on and Bessie was washing the tables.

“She did a whopping business today,” Kraus said.

“This town will probably not see this much excitement for a long while.”

“Are you staying over tomorrow?”

“’Fraid so. We’ll be here a while. Miss Callahan has some business to attend to.”

“You planning on marrying that woman?”

Ben grinned. “That’s part of the business we’ll take care of while we’re here.”

“You don’t see many bobbed-haired women in the territory.”

“Do you have an objection to women cutting their hair? Men do it all the time.” A wave of anger washed over Ben. He spoke
curtly.

Kraus shrugged. “Just commenting.”

They entered the hotel and walked up the stairs. At his door, Ben said good night and fumbled with his key until he saw Kraus
enter a room two doors down. Before he closed the door, he heard Dory’s open. He watched as she came out, turned the key in
the lock and moved swiftly into his room. He shut the door and she came into his arms.

For a long moment they held each other. Then he raised her chin with his forefinger and placed his lips against hers. The
kiss began gently without pressure. His mouth lightly caressed her parted lips. After a long delicious moment, he lifted his
mouth and put his lips to her ear.

“Kiss me back, sweetheart.”

Without hesitation her lips searched for his. His lips were soft and gentle, but they entrapped hers with fiery heat that
created strange and wonderful sensations inside her. She opened her mouth beneath his; the tip of his tongue entered and swirled
gently over her inner lips. His mouth moved along her cheek to her ear.

“Darlin’, darlin’, Dory—”

Her lovely curving form, clad only in a nightdress, nestled close against him. He moved his hands down her back to her hips
and pressed her miraculous softness to him. For a brief haunting moment he wondered if this was a dream. This precious curly-haired
woman had brought something into his life that he had never expected to be his. She filled his heart with a love that went
beyond gratifying his physical needs. He wanted to put all his thoughts, toil and love into building a future with her.

“You’d better get out of here, honey, while I can let you go.” Ben smoothed her hair and drew his mouth along the line of
her jaw. The kiss on her lips was a tender, leisurely, lingering caress. His strong fingers stroked the quivering small of
her back, kneaded her shoulder blades, and down under her arms to cup her near-naked breasts. He held her very close, pressing
his long, hard body against her, and said huskily, “We’ll be wed tomorrow.”

“You may think me shameful, but I don’t want to go.” She pressed warm lips to his cheek. “I’ve waited all my life for you.”

“We’ll be wed tomorrow,” he said again. “Then tomorrow night—”

“—Tonight, love. Tonight.”

“I want it to be right.”

“Ben—” His name on her lips was swept away by his kisses. “Ben… how can it be more right than now?” she said when she was
able to speak.

He groaned her name, then covered her lips with his and left them there while he whispered, “Sweetheart… it’s killing me to
wait, but I can—”

The little jerky movements of her hips against his hardened flesh were his undoing. His arms slid from around her and he stepped
away quickly to remove his vest, shirt and trousers. Without a shred of embarrassment, Dory went to the bed. Ben sat down
and took off his boots and the rest of his clothing. When he turned to her, she was waiting to welcome him. He gathered her
to him, holding her length against his.

“You feel different without your clothes on,” he whispered. “Softer, sweeter—”

“You feel warmer, harder—” With something like wonder, her hands moved along his lean ribs to his muscled waist and down his
side to hair-roughened thighs. Her hands explored the muscles on his back and shoulders and the hard flat plain of his belly
before going around to his hips to press his hard flesh against the nest of her femininity.

His hand swept away her nightdress and then her nipples were buried in the soft hair on his chest. Their breaths became one
as his parted lips sought and found hers. The naked hunger that caught and held them was both sweet and violent. Blindly,
passionately, he kissed her breasts, drawing gently on the nipple he took into his mouth. She wound her fingers in his hair
and held his head to her, never wanting him to stop that glorious torment.

Her breath hissed when his seeking fingers combed through the soft curls between her thighs and into the warm, wet cavern
of her womanhood. The rough touch of his hand sent delicious tremors cascading through her melting flesh. The pleasure his
sliding fingers evoked was so intense she cried out his name. Her hand sought and found and caressed his elongated, rigid
flesh.

“Dory, Dory—” He said her name on a sobbing breath. She listened to his hoarse whisper, felt him shudder, and caressed him
while he trembled.

Carefully he raised his body, lowered himself into the cradle of her thighs and entered her slowly and reverently. This joining,
Dory was certain, was unlike any coupling anyone had ever experienced before. There was no room in her mind for anything but
the hard, throbbing flesh inside her. She was part of him. He was part of her. He was the world— the earth and the sky. Her
heart vibrated with love for him.

“You feel so good—” she whispered and sought his mouth.

“Sweet Dory. This is as close to heaven as I’ll ever get,” he whispered almost in agony, pulled back and then desperately
sank himself deeper into her.

His mouth nibbled at hers while the velvety tip of his stiffened flesh moved deliciously up and over the hard nub hidden in
the soft folds of her secret place. His movements were precise, stroking to bring her to completion, striving to ignore his
own desire and concentrating only on bringing joy to her.

Every stroke of his throbbing phallus sent fire running wildly along Dory’s nerves from her nipples to her loins, and she
was helpless to do anything but feel and lift her hips and move her hands down his back to his taut buttocks and hold them
to her.

“I love you, I love you,” she breathed against his mouth.

His hips jerked in response to her words. There was no way he could keep them still. He could feel the series of small explosions
that went off in her deepest secrecies and heard the whimpering cries that accompanied them. Her body arched, pulling him
deeper into her miraculous softness. The love that flowed over him was so intense that it reduced everything else to insignificance.
He trembled all over. His legs quivered; his center felt like a volcano about to explode. Pleasure washed over him in great
waves. It was beyond his endurance to hold back now. With a final plunge, his life-giving fluid pumped into her.

Almost at the instant of his gigantic outburst, Dory’s own flesh felt first a spark and then a flame of consuming fire. The
ecstasy reached a peak that resembled pain, then burst into a rapture so profound that she thought her whole body would dissolve.
Unaware that the little spasms inside her were pulling him, hugging him, caressing him, she was lifted to undreamed-of sensual
heights before she was released, groaning, shaking, her whole body palpitating.

Dory became aware that her open mouth was pressed to his shoulder. There were no words between them, only the sounds of labored
breathing and moaning kisses.

When he turned on his back, he brought her with him and pressed her head to his shoulder. She cuddled against him, stroking
the damp hair on his chest and running her hand over his hard-muscled belly.

“I never dreamed it would be like that,” she said and rubbed her cheek against the smooth flesh of his shoulder.

“You’re a lot of woman, sweetheart. This part of our life will be good.”

“Just good?” she teased and nipped his flesh with her teeth.

“Wonderful! Marvelous!” He reached for her thigh and pulled it up to rest across his groin. “It was so wonderful and so marvelous
that I’ll be wanting to do it all the time.”

“Even when I look like I swallowed a pumpkin?”

“Especially then,” he murmured with his lips against her forehead.

They were quiet for a while; his hand caressed her hip and thigh. She was his now, warm and weak from their mating. He wanted
to touch her, hold her breasts in his hand, stroke her belly. He turned her on her back, lifted her legs over his and pressed
her bottom to his thighs.
She loved him.
The thought awed him. He was determined that each time they mated she would get as much pleasure out of their coupling as
he did. His hand moved up her belly to her breast. It fit in his palm as if it had been molded for it.

It occurred to Ben that he had never spent an entire night with a woman; had never slept with one. He had never wanted to.
Now he wanted to spend every night for the rest of his life with this sweet woman in his arms.

His palm made circling movements on her breast. Occasionally his fingers squeezed gently. Her nipple grew and hardened from
the friction of his rough palm. She murmured his name and arched to push against his hand. He bent his head and held the nipple
tightly between his lips before drawing it into his mouth and sucking lustily. The roughness of his cheeks against her breast
and the pull of his mouth and tongue thrilled her in her belly and deep, deep inside her.

He lifted his head to murmur, “Do you like for me to do this?”

“It’s… heaven!”

His mouth attached itself to her nipple again.

Her breath came in small gasps and her belly quivered as his hand passed over it. The heel of his palm rubbed gently the curls
on her mound. A cry of pleasure came from her as his fingers dipped into the dark wet cocoon that hungered for his touch.
As they moved in and out, she felt a wild, new astonishment and dazzling joy.

“Ben… Ben—” His name was muffled against his soft hair.

When he felt the tremors in the warm sheath that surrounded his fingers, he reached between her thighs and inserted himself
again, hard and pulsing with life, into her yielding warmth. Instantly they were joined and breathlessly surrendering to the
passion that lifted them, held them, transported and incoherent, until the moment of glorious shared completion.

In the throes of her passion, her teeth had clung to the skin on his neck. Now she soothed the spot with her tongue. Tears
came from the corners of her eyes, tears of the greatest joy she had ever known. Ben felt the wetness on his shoulder and
touched her cheeks with his fingertips.

“Honey? You’re crying!”

“I’m silly. The tears are because I love you so much and because… this has been so wonderful.”

“Ah… darlin’.” His mouth closed over hers. The kiss was long and sweet and conveyed a meaning more than any words he could
say. “There’ll be many, many more nights like this.”