Thea Devine (13 page)

“Oh yes,” she breathed now and again, “yes—kiss the way you kissed me last night….” He took her tongue between his lips and sucked it just the way he had the night before, arousing them both with the hot lush
pulling motion.

He gave in to the sensual sucking, and it was a long, long time before he eased his mouth away from hers; then she knew what he wanted and she wordlessly led him into the privacy of the office and locked that door, while he seated himself at her desk and waited for her to come to him.

Everything now moved in a slow, rhythmic motion. She came to him slowly and slid boldly onto his lap, pressing herself blatantly against his rigid erection, writhing against it, provoking him every way she could think of with her insolent movements. She wanted yesterday, she thought hazily, as she felt the granite length of him even more fully. Consciously or not, she had hiked her skirt up so that she was sitting naked on his lap. She wanted everything that had happened yesterday, and more. …

He felt the difference instantly; it was her naked bottom wriggling so provokingly against his straining hardness. His hands went to her hips, settling her nakedness tightly against his thick length. “Do you feel me?” he murmured, seeking her lips again.

“I feel you,” she whispered, thrilled by the inflexible massiveness of him. “Do you feel me?” she added boldly.

His tongue flicked her lips. “Do you want me to feel you?”

She caught her breath at this potent question. “I want you to feel me,” she whispered.

“Everywhere?”

She could hardly breathe. His whispered words aroused her to a fevered pitch. He knew she was naked beneath her clothes, and he was letting her decide. But what was there to decide when all she could think of was the memory of his hot kisses and caressing fingers arousing her nipple. She wanted that and more. She wanted the feeling of his stiff, virile maleness taut against
her bare buttocks, exciting her beyond words.

“Anywhere,” she whispered, enthralled by the potent sex of him. “Everywhere. Just … feel me, now,” and she waited for the caressing touch of his fingers.

His lips hovered over hers. “I know you’re naked under your clothes,” he murmured, and took a long delving kiss inside her mouth.

“I dressed for you,” she whispered. As his tongue sought her sweet taste once more, she felt his hand move from her hip down her leg to the point where he could pull up her skirt and feel the bare flesh of her trembling thigh. She melted against him as his hand contacted skin and began a slow descent toward her foot.

She felt him pull her boot away and his fingers caressing the shape of her foot, feeling each toe, sliding up to her ankle and then upward still until he was holding her naked buttocks in his hand, pressing her more tightly against him, mouth to mouth, body to body. Then she felt both hands under her buttocks feeling the pert roundness of them, exploring every inch of them upward and downward, then settling her nakedness back down hard against his throbbing male member.

He never broke the kiss. Her whole sensation became the caress of his tongue and the feeling of his fingers exploring her feet, her legs, her thighs. Somehow he turned her body so she was facing forward. Her legs were propped up on either side of his and her skirt was pushed all the way back so he had the freedom to feel every inch of her. In turn, she could feel the voluptuous movement of her naked buttocks against his powerful hardness.

She was all open to him, and he leisurely explored all of her that he could feel, sliding both hands all over her, around her body, skimming past the velvet heat of her femininity, grazing the lush tuft that crowned its entry, teasing it, cupping the thrusting mound without entering, and then leaving it, sliding his hands up to her
breasts to cover them and to feel her stiff peaked nipples against the flat of his palms.

She went wild in his hands as he pulled away the thin bodice of her camisole and gently took each nipple between his thumb and forefinger just so she could feel the erotic contact. She never wanted to stop feeling his hands on her. From the lush caress of her nipples, his hands sleeked back down her body to her feet and stroked them gently. Then they returned to her thighs and between her legs. Then his concentrated seduction began.

He had possessed her mouth and tongue and now he would possess her entirely. Slowly and expertly he stroked and caressed her silky skin, moving closer and closer to his lush conquest.

She was caught in the hot wet world of his languorous kisses and the slow shimmering heat of his knowledgeable caresses as he shifted unerringly to the velvet center of her with a sure touch. His hands knew just what she wanted him to do. Her hips churned wildly against the hard penetration of his fingers, then every sensation converged on the single driving feeling of him exploring her provocative femininity.

It was too much, it was not enough. Her supple body clamored for more, rippling with the fierce urge to a union that she could not complete. There was only the glimmering sense of it as she strained against him and everything liquefied into the one relentless need to reach the luminous culmination.

She felt one hand, then two, and then herself, open and centered, pliant and bearing down on that one exquisite feeling that was coming … coming … in all its opulent release.

And it came, crackling and cascading all over her, an avalanche of unbearable feeling that threatened to swallow her whole. It pulsed all over her body and eddied
away to leave her only with the tantalizing memory of it and the sense of his hands still within, still ready to urge her to further heights.

She didn’t see how she could when her body felt so sated, and she gripped his hands and pulled them away, pushing her skirt down almost protectively before she curled up against him to savor his lovemaking.

Such other ways, she thought wonderingly, as she lifted her mouth to his again. Who could have imagined such possibilities, such fathomless enchantment?

He could.

The words came at her so clearly it was almost like they were written on a sign someplace in her mind.

He could, and he had. He had told her the words, she had given him his vision, and he had given her … rapture.

She knew that while she felt calm about it now, by tomorrow she would be possessed by the insensate yearning to feel his hands on her again.

“When again?” she murmured between the slow leisurely kisses she still demanded from him. “Kiss me first, then tell me,” and he kissed her for a long, long time, while he thought about when and how the next moment could not be too soon.

“Sunday, it should be Sunday, after you’ve gone to press, Maggie.”

“Oh God, Sunday?” she groaned. How would she stand it until Sunday? she wondered fretfully. She felt as if he were gone already, even though he was delivering light little kisses all over her mouth, murmuring reassurances and massaging her shoulders and back comfortingly.

She moved away from him for a moment and suddenly became conscious that her breasts were still bare. In the darkness he could not see, but she knew he had been aware of their thrusting softness against his body. She
pulled up her camisole, and reached into her pocket and pressed something into his hand.

“A key?”

“I don’t want you waiting; I don’t want to wait. I want you to be here.”

“I want to be here.”

“Then take the key—and be here Sunday.”

“I’ll be here,” he whispered, and closed his mouth over hers one more time.

Chapter Nine

It was a singularly uninspiring issue of the newspaper and even her regulars knew it.

“You didn’t go after no one this week, Maggie?”

“What’s the matter, lady, you gettin’ mellow?”

“Now boys, what do you think I employ Arch for?” she asked teasingly.

“It sure sounds like nothin’s happenin’ in this here town. I thought we was a lot more lively than that. Maybe we gotta get a gang together and shoot up the ole Range Rider Saloon. Whaddya say, boys?”

“Now, now, I think we gotta give ole Maggie here another week to get the dirt together. She’ll find that fly in the molasses, you’ll see.”

“Maybe Denver North is laying low,” Maggie suggested in a chilling tone of voice. “Maybe they’re moving in mysterious ways, behind the scenes, and we’re only going to see the results years from now.”

“Oh, Maggie, there ain’t nothing they can do that we ain’t gonna see outright sooner or later.”

“Isn’t that the truth?” she murmured, passing through the crowd into the office.

“Maggie, you’re just born to be a cynic,” a new voice added. She looked up to see Reese following her in
through the front door.

“And isn’t it a lucky thing,” she said lightly. “How are you doing today, Reese?”

“Much better now that I’ve seen you. You’ve been damned busy, Maggie,” he said, settling himself down in the chair next to her desk and picking up the copy of the current issue that lay on her worktable. “Hmmm, well, your star reporter is predicting big happenings in town once the building crew comes in. What do you think, Maggie?”

“I think I’ll reserve comment until after the fact.”

“You are the diplomat, Maggie,” he said smiling, but she saw the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. She almost thought there was an underlying double meaning to his response.

“I think I am, actually,” she said, sinking down into her chair, thinking that it held no sensual connotation for her in a room full of noisy people. “Tell me what you’ve been doing these past few days. I don’t think we’ve hardly seen you.”

“And that’s the bossy newspaper lady in you,” he evaded, still with the faint smile on his lips. “I’m finding the company in Colville extremely congenial. I wasn’t particularly counting on you to entertain me, Maggie.”

“Especially after I made it clear I wasn’t going to?” she asked sweetly. “Ah, Reese, let’s not spar with words. Your mother thinks I’m treating you as shabbily as an outdoor cat. You really have to assure her that you are not cut out to be the lackey of a lady boss.”

“I could think of worse fates,” he said cheerfully, and then brushed off the statement with a negating wave. “I’m not after the paper, Maggie, you should know that. I want to help you, certainly, but that’s not the same as wanting to horn in and take over.”

“No it isn’t,” she agreed, trying to keep the sharp edge out of her voice. “But I really dislike being held
responsible for the way she thinks you should be occupying your time.”

“I don’t blame you, but I hope you have noticed that since I came she’s become increasingly involved with the ladies’ church society. And I hope you feel some proper gratitude at my cleverness.”

“I don’t think she needed that much of a push; this town thinks of Frank as some kind of icon, and after the memorial service, when that was brought very convincingly home to her, I’m sure she relished the thought of being Frank’s mother publicly—wherever and whenever she could.”

“Very astute, Maggie. So I’m not such a clever son after all.”

“I wager you’re clever enough, Reese. And you’re damned likable.”

“And I think, on that warming thought, I’ll leave.” He got up with an easy grace and made his way to the backroom staircase. Maggie watched him for a moment before her eyes swung to Jean, who was staring after Reese with the most enigmatic expression on his face.

That was Saturday, with Sunday yet to come, and already a keening restlessness possessed her that was very hard to disguise from the knowledgeable eyes of A.J. and Jean, both of whom had worked the cleanup detail with her Saturday evening. When Jean suggested they might take dinner at the hotel, she felt distinctly uncomfortable and begged off with not much of an excuse.

He shrugged it off. “You are probably right. The gossips have enough to speculate about with Reese’s presence here. I would never want to embarrass you, Maggie.”

“Of course not. No, I wasn’t even thinking about that.
The hotel is expensive.”

“But it is a rare treat for me, and just a suggestion only. Perhaps some other time.”

“Perhaps,” she said noncommittally, but she was rather astonished at the offer. There was no more than the usual emotion in the tone of his voice, and yet she had the impression that there was a great deal of emotion behind his reason for asking. She hadn’t the faintest idea how to cope with that.

It was really getting to be too much. There was a flaring awareness in Jean’s eyes, and she felt that moment of attenuated awareness between them that had no comparison with what she felt about Logan.

She wanted to tell him to just go away and never come back, but that wasn’t possible. He was irreplaceable, and she had the grim feeling that he knew it.

Eventually he had no choice but to leave. He did so with his usual good manners, manners that effectively masked whatever lay below the surface.

And then finally Sunday came, and a leisurely morning alone as Reese once again escorted Mother Colleran to church and left her to her own devices.

How had she ever survived a week without Reese as the buffer between herself and her mother-in-law?

She had time to luxuriate in the anticipation of what was to happen tonight. She had time to remember all the delicious things Logan had done to her, and the glorious culmination at his hands. Her body went all molten thinking about it and the possibilities of the evening ahead. She decided how she would dress for him and was both amazed and aroused by her own daring.

It did require some planning, but by the time she was ready to slip downstairs she was dressed and ready for him. Praying that he was there, already waiting for her.

Downstairs in the back room, she locked the door and called to him in the office, her voice husky with
excitement. He was there, in the dark, waiting, just as she hoped, and she felt a frisson of nervousness before she stepped out of her boots and shucked the thin robe she had worn to cover her leather apron. Underneath this she was naked, and she felt her way carefully into the room until she came to him. He knew she was there by her fragrance and by her breathing and the scent of sensual excitement that permeated the air.

She climbed onto his lap, straddling his legs this time, so that the whole of her provocative femininity was centered over him. His hands reached for her, and she heard him groan as he realized what she was wearing and what she had done; his hands settled on her hips and pushed her nakedness down tightly against him. He was already hard for her and she felt a luscious throbbing spurt of elongation as she gyrated her hips to find the most form-fitting position. His hands guided her until, with a sigh, she finally settled down against his massive hot length.

They needed no words. Their lips met hungrily, openmouthed in a succulent kiss, and she moved with it, bearing down on his rock-hard manhood with groans of delight in the feel of him against her nakedness and the heat of his kisses as he plundered her mouth greedily.

She loved the sense of the rough material against her breasts and the feeling of nakedness behind. The angle of her body as she wantonly rotated against him thrust her bottom outward. Her smoldering movements invited his caresses. His hands moved to stroke her back down to the lush curve of her hips, and there he stayed, feeling the frenzied movement of her tantalizing his member, waiting for her further invitation to explore everywhere.

“Maggie.”

“Was it hard waiting?” she whispered against his lips.

“It’s hard now.”

“Don’t stop.”

“Tell me what to do then.”

She writhed against him as his words sent tantalizing pictures spiraling in her mind. “Touch me—touch me everywhere,” she breathed, and settled her mouth against his ecstatically as she felt his hands move downward, finally, to the sweet, firm lushness of her buttocks, to begin his sensual probing of all her secrets.

Their kisses grew longer, more languid, and his hands moved more slowly as they explored her intimately from behind. She lifted herself and settled against his questing fingers until finally they slipped with luscious expertise into the exact place she wanted them. There he rested as he made love to her mouth and tongue with sumptuous thoroughness.

She surrendered utterly to every sensation. White-hot tendrils curled through her and he sensed her readiness for his sultry thrusts into her moist satin heat. Slowly at first he plunged into her, savoring her rapturous response and her sensuous shifts to give him pure unfettered entry to her most intimate place.

And then her body went wild with all the separate feelings melting into one voluptuous urge. She wanted him, she wanted him, and her kisses became voracious with that ravenous need. And she wanted more than that, more, and she didn’t know what more was; her hands boldly roamed all over him not knowing what she wanted to feel until they came into contact with his pulsating hardness. That, that; she pulled at his clothes frantically as he thrust into her, and with one lovely tear, she freed the towering evidence of his male virility into her hungry hands.

He hadn’t expected that. He almost lost control feeling her fingers sliding up and down the forceful ramrod length of him. And then she sat back so she could revel in the feeling of his hands possessing her in the same way.

And then suddenly she moved and he moved and her
hands moved brazenly all over his potent maleness. He thrust into her with ferocious little surging movements and heard her moans and felt her hands stroking him in long, torrid motions. It was as if he were deep within her and they were one. They came to the shattering crowning point simultaneously.

And then the thump of footsteps, unexpected and startling.

“Reese!” Maggie whispered frantically, totally jolted out of the magic of the moment. Her heart accelerated again. “Oh, Lord …” her hands cupped Logan’s face and she dropped a hard kiss on his lips. “Logan …”

But he was calm, even in the face of the stunning climax they had shared. “Shhh. Go into the backroom and get on a light. Close the door. Did you have a robe?”

“Yes,” she whispered, backing off of his lap, and wiping her sticky fingers on his shirttails. “Oh damn. Logan …”

“I’m up to winter pasture this week, Maggie. We’re bringing the herd down. I won’t see you till Friday. Hurry. I hear him calling you.”

That was the worst, Reese seeking her for some unfathomable reason in the deep of the night. She made her way cautiously out of the office and closed the door carefully behind her. Logan had the key, he would be fine.

She groped for her robe, not at all pleased that she might have to face Reese in that skimpy garment. She shucked her apron, shoved her feet into her boots and tied the sash haphazardly around her waist.

A light … The light was easier; she knew her way around the back room like a blind person. It took another moment, accompanied by the clump of footsteps down the inner stairs, for her to light the lamp, unlock the door and thrust her apron back onto its hook.

A moment later Reese poked his head through the door.

“For God’s sake, Maggie, you scared me half to death.”

“Why is that, Reese?” she asked calmly from her seat at the type case, where her shaking fingers were arranging letters into a jumbled commentary on her feelings. The bastard hadn’t even allowed her a moment to savor what had happened.

She looked up at Reese.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“What are you?” she countered, evading the question. M-I-N-E, she had spelled. She wanted to brand the word on Logan’s flanks. She hated Reese at that moment.

“Well, hell,” he growled, and she knew he had had just a bit too much to drink; moreover, his eyes were raking the thin material of her robe and the outline of her nipples pushing hard against the fabric. “I thought… I thought …” he seemed distracted for a moment as his eyes rested on her taut-nippled breasts. She felt naked as his greedy gaze devoured the sight of her, naked and distinctly unclean.

“God, you’re beautiful in the dead of night, Maggie. What the devil are you doing down here alone at this hour dressed like that?”

“I, I thought I heard a noise,” she lied. “What are
you
doing down here in the dead of night?”

He tried to gauge her expression. He wasn’t so far gone he couldn’t tell a lie from the truth. In Maggie’s case, he wasn’t sure. The long sleek lines of her body got in the way of his thinking, and he wondered about her self-imposed celibacy. That was a body made to be loved, and he was damned tempted to force the issue then and there. There was even a little part of him that had the passing thought that this little hide-and-seek game was deliberate, and that she was goading him to take the step he would love to take.

In fact during these last two weeks he had been looking for some little sign that she didn’t really mean what she
had told him. But this was the first time he had seen her in anything but her prim dark dresses and that godawful leather apron.

“I thought you’d like to know …” he said with a self-satisfied tone in his voice.

“Yes?” She slid off the stool and reached for the lamp, a signal that she wanted to hear the whole of it and quick.

He was transfixed again, this time by the whole of her practically naked in front of him and the incongruous touch of the heavy boots she usually wore around the office. Almost a scene for seduction, he thought, his rampant imagination easing up just a bit. Frank was a fool; he decided to wait for another concretely seductive gesture.

“I thought you should be the first to know. The word is over at the hotel that the lawyer from Denver North is going to be setting up shop in one of the suites come next Thursday, Maggie. He’s here to do business, and I don’t wonder that he might be after you.”