The Education of Madeline (6 page)

“Thank you, Miss Eppie.”

She giggled as she walked toward the barn. “Calls me ma'am and Miss Eppie. Crazy man.”

Teague contemplated her retreating back. Eppie was a formidable foe in this town. He was glad he knew that before he stepped on her tail to get to Maddie.

“What did that girl want with you?”

Teague turned to find the sheriff behind him, staring at Eppie as she went into the barn.

“Nothing. She was just talking to me. People do that sometimes.”

“Don't get smart with me, O'Neal. You are mine for the next month, or the noose goes back around your neck.”

Teague's hands tightened on the handle of the bucket until he felt a warm trickle of blood on his fingers. “What do you want?” he snapped.

“Are you doing what we told you to do?”

“I am doing my part.”

“Good,” said the sheriff as he slammed his hand down on Teague's shoulder. “Without you we won't be able to follow through with this. If you fiddle with us, and the plan fails, you won't need to worry about the noose. You'll be buried out behind the saloon in a shallow hole before anybody misses you. Understand me, boy?”

Teague felt sick to his stomach. How the hell had he sunk so low as to get involved with an ass like this?

“I said, you understand me, boy?”

“And I said I'm doing my part.”

The sheriff stared at him for another minute. Teague itched to wipe the dust from his shoes with this pompous son of a bitch.

“Well, get busy doing what you need to do.”

T
he morning after the coffee incident, Madeline was itchy and grumpy. She wanted to wash off the hideous poultice Eppie had put on, but she daren't go against the girl's instructions. She'd done that before and never wanted to do it again. Eppie could be formidable.

She sat at the kitchen table with a cup of tea and shot glares at her friend when she wasn't looking.

“You are a bad patient.”

“You are a mean nurse.”

Eppie burst out laughing. “If your Teague could only see you now. Acting like a little girl.”

“He's not
my
Teague. And I'm not acting like a little girl.” Madeline heard the whine in her voice and hated it.

Eppie harrumphed at her and turned back to the bread dough she was kneading.

“When can I take this concoction off?”

“Tonight, if you're a good girl. I'll run you a warm bath, and your skin should be almost good as new.”

Madeline grumbled under her breath a bit more and then stared into her tea. If she was being honest with herself, she was grumpy because the injury prevented lesson number two. A lesson Madeline looked forward to. With great anticipation. She couldn't wait for her bath.

She spent the day in her robe, trying to read and catch up on the household accounts. It was no use; she couldn't concentrate, and it wasn't the injury.

She could focus on only one thing. Teague. His hands, his mouth, his body. Her natural curiosity was like a bunch of screaming bells going off. Madeline was miserable and achy. She supposed it was unfulfilled desire. She'd never felt it before, so she could only surmise that's what it was.

She was in the sitting room, staring out at a yellow butterfly as it flittered past the window, when Teague's voice interrupted her. It was as if she'd conjured him from her imagination. Immediately her body tightened and groaned with hunger.

“Good afternoon, Maddie.”

She was horrified to remember that she wore only a robe and, with her hair down, probably looked like last week's washrag.

“Hello, Teague.”

He leaned against the doorjamb, looking like a Greek god come to life in a new blue shirt and brown trousers that had been delivered that morning. “You feeling better today?”

“Yes, I am. Eppie says I can wash her poultice off later. It smells a lot worse than it feels.”

He grinned. “I'll take your word for it.”

“Believe me, I can't wait to take a bath and get clean.”

His eyes darkened. “A bath? Sounds…inviting.”

Her pulse sped up, and the ache intensified within her. She was nearly glad for the robe so he couldn't see how hard her nipples actually were.

“Yes, inviting.” Her voice was husky, aroused.

“Do you think you'll be ready for another lesson after your bath?”

Oh, yes, yes, yes!

“Perhaps,” she said, amazed she was actually flirting with him. “Will you be ready to teach?”

Teague sauntered toward her with his predatory gait, like a great big cat stalking its prey. A shiver danced up her spine. He was so big, so…masculine. Thank God Madeline had found him. Thank God he was hers for a month.

He leaned down and brushed his lips lightly across hers like the wings of the butterfly she'd been watching. She closed her eyes and savored the brief contact, inhaled his scent, his essence.

“I'll be ready.”

With one last searing glance, he walked back out of the room. Madeline couldn't help but stare at his behind. It was firm, round, and her hands itched to feel its contours, touch his skin.

Madeline couldn't wait for her bath.

 

Eppie put rose petals in the bathwater. It was as if she knew something was going to happen that night. Something Madeline needed to smell pretty for.

Eppie chattered on and on about Isaiah and how wonderful he was. Madeline was excited to see her friend truly smitten with a man. She deserved to be happy. She finally left Madeline alone with soap and a washrag, which she put to good use immediately.

After the poultice washed off, she finally got a good look at her skin. It was bright pink but had no blisters or scarring. It felt a bit tight and a little sore, but she was sure the damage would have been much worse had Eppie not worked her magic with her concoction.

Madeline forced herself to take a long, leisurely bath. Eppie had to help her rinse her hair. It was so thick and long it was nearly impossible to get all the soap out alone.

After her hair was squeaky clean, she laid back in the bath and daydreamed of Teague. Her body grew heated even as the water cooled. She felt like she was teasing herself by waiting. The anticipation was building like steam in a pressure cooker.

When she stepped out of the bath, she dried herself slowly, rubbing the towel over and over her skin. By the time she was dry, she was wet between her legs, and her nipples seemed permanently erect.

She slipped on a white cotton nightgown with short sleeves and a lacy collar Eppie had made. Sitting on the stool next to the tub, she used the towel to dry her hair as much as she could. Then she took the brush and ran it through her hair.

“Can I do that?”

Teague should have surprised her, but he didn't. It was as though she was expecting him to come into the bathing room. Wanting him there.

“Yes,” she answered a bit breathily.

He stepped up behind her, and she felt his body heat meld with hers. She held up the silver-backed brush that had been a gift from her mother when she turned eight. His thumb touched her hand as he took the brush; the calluses sent a bolt of heat up her arm straight to her breasts. Her nipples almost shivered with longing.

God how she wanted Teague to
touch
her.

His big hand gently touched her head. She closed her eyes as the brush slowly slid from the top of her head to her behind.

“You have beautiful hair. Like a dark waterfall.”

Teague stroked her hair again and again. Each stroke built on the last. Like a symphony of music playing in her body. The notes echoed through her.

Madeline heard the brush settle on the floor. His hands ran through her hair.

“So soft.”

He lifted her hair to expose the back of her neck. She felt a wisp of a breeze right before his lips landed on her nape. They were soft and hard, hot and demanding. His tongue licked her lightly. She arched toward him. Eager, wanting, aching.

“Are you ready for lesson two?” His voice skittered across her skin.

“Oh, yes,” she replied on an exhale.

Madeline felt a cloth go over her eyes, and she stiffened.

“You said you were ready.”

She relaxed, ready to learn whatever Teague wanted to teach.

The cloth settled lightly around her head, and she was in darkness. She could only feel. And touch. And taste.

He slipped her nightgown off her shoulders, leaving the entire top part of her body exposed to him. She felt embarrassed by her nudity, and her arms immediately came up to cover herself. His hands stopped her.

“Don't hide yourself from me. I want to see you.
You
. All of you. You're beautiful, Madeline.”

Beautiful.

He must have needed spectacles because she was nowhere near beautiful, but she surely
felt
beautiful at that moment.

His fingertip grazed her forehead, down her nose, across her cheekbone and her lips. The finger slowly moved back and forth across her lips. She gave in to the urge and kissed his finger. He pressed against her until she opened her lips, and he slowly slid the finger into her mouth. His finger was clean and slightly salty. He pulled it out and then stuck it back in again.

She felt the primal rhythm and sucked at the digit. He hissed in a breath and pulled his finger out completely. He wiped it back and forth across her lips, wetting them with her own saliva. Then he blew on her lips. The combination of the cool and hot made her entire body pulse.

Then he kissed her. The kiss was long and hard; his tongue moved like a snake, charming her into following it. He wasn't touching her other than with his mouth, but she felt like her whole body was against him.

Teague's kiss nearly stole her soul. His lips finally left hers and traveled across her cheek to her ear. She sucked in a shaky breath. He gently nipped her earlobe, his breath gently tickling. His tongue outlined her ear before he blew in it, again giving her the hot and cold sensations that caressed her body.

He kissed his way down her neck, sucking and nibbling on her skin as he traveled. She moaned when his tongue dipped into her collarbone.

“You smell like roses.”

“Mmmm…” She could barely speak.

Madeline felt him kneel in front of her and pull her knees apart. She resisted his hands until his hand cupped her cheek.

“Trust me, Maddie. I won't hurt you.”

She allowed him to spread her legs, and she felt his body slide between them. She immediately clenched in anticipation of more.

The fabric of his pants rubbed against her tender skin, eliciting sparks that sizzled up and down her. His hands traced her breasts in large circles. Her breathing became irregular as the circles grew smaller and smaller. He was getting closer to her nipples. The aching, hungry points that begged him to touch them.

Just before his fingers reached the sensitized points, the circles reversed and grew larger. She moaned in frustration.

“Patience, Maddie, patience.”

“Please touch me, Teague. I can't…I need…”

He kissed her softly. She tried to lean toward him, but he set her back on the stool.

Teague took the ends of her hair and ran them back and forth across her nipples, teasing, tantalizing her once more. She was ready to tear off the blindfold and demand he touch her.

“Do you know what I see?”

“A desperate woman?”

He chuckled as he dropped the hair and ran his fingers up her arms to her collarbone and then to her neck.

“An incredibly sexy woman full of passion. God, Maddie, you have so much passion, more than any other woman I've known. Your skin is like a pink rose, with that pretty flush. Your nipples are like raspberries, succulent, ripe ones begging for my tongue. Your lips are parted, waiting for me to return.”

As Teague spoke, Madeline grew more and more aroused. Her body was ready to simply explode. He was a sensual poet who wove a spell of ecstasy with only words.

When his mouth closed over one nipple and tugged, she cried out as sensations raced through her. His hand closed on the other nipple, and she thought she was going to die right then and there.

His other hand slid up her thigh to her moist center. She was too far beyond reasonable thought to even want to stop him. His fingers brushed her swollen lips, and she opened her mouth to beg him again.

A finger slid inside her as his thumb circled her nubbin of pleasure. She felt the thin membrane of her virginity tear as he explored untouched territory. There was a pinch of pain, and then it passed under his pleasurable assault. Around and around it went as his finger, then two, pushed in and out of her. His mouth suckled greedily while his hand tweaked and pulled at the other nipple.

Within minutes, she reached her peak with the force of a thousand bolts of light. Her body jerked against him as he plunged his fingers deeply inside her. The waves rolled through her, over and over. Her eyes almost rolled back in her head as the most powerful sensations she'd ever felt racked her body.

He gentled his suckling and rubbing as her body slowly floated back down to earth. Tears pricked her eyes as the enormity of what had happened hit her.

Teague had pleasured her beyond her wildest imaginings—and there were many imaginings in Madeline's cold, lonely bed. He kissed her gently and then stood.

“That was lesson number two.”

With that, she heard him walk toward the door, open it, and then close it behind him.

That's when she realized she had never even seen him the entire time he had been in the bathing room with her. She had only felt and touched. Her heart would never be the same. Neither would her body.

 

Teague walked out of the bathing room in a daze. His body was as hard as an iron bar, but it was his head and his heart that were completely off-kilter.

What had he done?

Ever since Eppie had told him Madeline was taking a bath, he had been anxious. More than anxious—ravenous for her. She wanted lesson two and had even teased him about it. He couldn't deny his hunger any longer, and he'd snuck into the bath.

She'd smelled like a field of flowers. Her skin was beautiful like fresh buttermilk. Somehow he'd seduced her into allowing him to live out a fantasy he'd always had. Pleasuring a woman blindfolded until she came in his hands.