DangerousPassion (8 page)

“I’m sorry, but I don’t have any whiskey glasses,” Sarah said, returning to the tub. The expression in her eye said she hoped Derek wouldn’t be disappointed.

“Glass is glass; a cup’s a cup,” Derek replied, genuinely pleased that the whiskey he’d be drinking was top-quality Evan Williams sour mash sipping whiskey. But he was quietly furious that whoever had brought the whiskey to Sarah’s house obviously had enough money to buy some of the finest spirits available in Deadwood for himself, but he left Sarah in a robe too well-worn to even be used even for rages…

Derek reached a soapy hand up for the cup, wondering just how much he could hate a man he’d never met.

Sarah got down on her knees beside the tub, holding the bottle in one hand and the cup in the other. She removed the cork rather indelicately from the bottle with her teeth, and then even more indelicately spit the cork away. She then filled the clean, white coffee cup with whiskey to the brim.

Again, Derek reached a soapy hand for the cup, but Sarah moved the cup away.

“I’ve got an idea,” she said, her eyes shining like wet emeralds. “Why don’t you just rinse the soap off your hands so you can hold the cup and enjoy your whiskey? Why don’t you let me pamper you a little?”

Chapter Five

Derek, with hands now free of soap suds, accepted the cup of whiskey. He took a swig of the amber liquid. Sarah got to her feet and went to the stove where the boiler was holding yet more water for the tub. Using a towel to protect her fingers from the hot cast iron, Sarah closed the vents to the stove, shutting off the air supply to the fire inside. It would be extinguished within minutes.

“I think we’ve got enough hot water now,” she said matter-of-factly as she dipped a pan into the boiler, extracting a measure of clear, heated water. She walked back to the tub and knelt on the floor, setting the pan down beside her. There was an unusually serene expression in her emerald green eyes. “Now where’s that block of soap?” she asked. Before Derek could answer, she dipped both hands into the milky water and, not unintentionally, managed to find his penis and testicles before finding the soap. “Here it is,” she said with mock innocence as her hands came out of the water holding the soap.

Derek, with his elbows on the sides of the tub, had a roguish half-smile on his lips. He took another healthy sip of whiskey and sighed as the liquor burned down his throat and warmed his blood.

Sarah worked up a mountain of soap suds between her hands and, after only a moment of deliberation, started washing Derek’s chest with her left hand, and his back and shoulders with her right—all the while displaying an aura of innocence that would have been perfectly natural for a nun while washing the laundry.

“How does that feel?” she asked, her fingers tracing gentle swirls in the soap suds trickling down Derek’s chest.

“Magnificent,” he said. He took another sip of whiskey, sighed, then added, “Is there something better than magnificent? Whatever that word is, that’s how good it feels.”

Sarah smiled and replied, “We’ll just have to find out for ourselves, I guess.”

She took the pan of warm water from the floor and lifted it over Derek’s head. “Close your eyes,” she said. When he did, she doused his hair with clean water, and then wiped the excess from his face with her free hand. “Take another sip, then hold your glass away. I don’t want to get soap into your good liquor.”

“How right you are, my lady!” Derek replied, taking a hefty swallow of whiskey before holding the glass away with an extended arm.

A strange, fluttery feeling slithered through Sarah when she heard Derek call her ‘my lady!’ She responded to it physically, as though he’d touched her instead of spoken to her, and though such emotions were entirely unfamiliar to her, she was consciously aware of a slow-moving warmth passing through her tissues, through her nerves, eliciting pleasures where none had been sought, adventurousness when none had been summoned.

Sarah worked up soap suds between her palms, and then soaped Derek’s hair. He closed his eyes and sighed with such unalloyed pleasure that she felt her clitoris start to tingle. Never before had she known such a desire to please a man; never before had she experienced such satisfaction in seeing a man contented with what she was doing for him. His obvious pleasure made her want to please him all the more.

Sarah watched her hands moving through Derek’s thick hair. She had never bathed a man before. In fact, she’d never even thought about doing such a thing. Yet with Derek, despite the brevity of her personal history with him, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to do. She had seen him taut with tension; she’d seen him unleash his violence in defense of her; and now she was seeing him luxuriating in the simple comforts that she was able—and so willing
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to provide.

“Does that feel good?”

“I’m in heaven.” He opened his eyes and looked at her with sudden seriousness. “Are you an angel? I never thought I’d get to heaven.”

Sarah laughed softly, and resisted the urge to kiss his mouth. “No, I’m definitely not an angel, and this old house certainly isn’t heaven.”

“Sure feels that way,” Derek said before closing his eyes again.

I could love this man.

She had not intended for the thought to enter her head. After all, she was engaged to a wealthy and powerful man, and a smart woman simply didn’t fall in love with someone as dangerous as Derek when that woman happened to be engaged to another man with enough money to make all her financial worries disappear forever. But the thought had entered her mind, and once it had, she couldn’t pretend that it hadn’t existed.

But what about Edgar?
she thought, and then immediately squeezed her eyes shut against the pain that instantly followed.
Forget Edgar. At least for now, forget Edgar. Think about Derek. For right now, Derek’s all that matters.

Forcing unpleasant thoughts from her consciousness, Sarah took her hands from Derek’s hair, rinsed them quickly in the bath water, and then picked up the pan of warm water from the floor. She said, “Keep your eyes closed now. I’m going to rinse out the soap.” She watched as the warm, clean water rained down over his head. When the pan was empty, Derek still had soap in his hair. “I’ve got to get more water. Just keep your eyes closed and I’ll be right back.”

She filled the pan from the boiler, and upon returning, paused a moment to marvel at the physical beauty of the naked man in her house. His shoulders were broad, the muscles in his chest exquisitely formed, their slumbering power obvious. There was an almost perfect triangle of dark hair on his chest. She couldn’t see far into the milky white water of the bath tub, but she knew what was hidden in the warm, murky waters…and she knew that that, too, was beautiful.

Sarah slowly got down on her knees at the side of the tub. Quite suddenly she was painfully aware that moments such as this did not happen often in a woman’s life. In fact, for most women, they never happened at all. She knew this instinctively and accepted it—just as she accepted that she would make the most of her brief time with Derek. When he rode away, she would try to be grateful for the time that she had spent with him, and thankful that she had shared his passion. She would accept that she must then get on with her life and, undoubtedly, set a date to marry Edgar.

She poured the water over Derek’s head slowly, rubbing his hair with her left hand to get all the soap out of the dark strands. When she was satisfied that his hair was clean, she ran her left palm lightly over his face to smooth away water, and said, “Now you can open your eyes.”

When he looked at her, Sarah knew that she’d never before seen eyes such a tempting shade of chocolate brown. He didn’t need to say or do anything to make her want to kiss him, to touch him, to do wickedly intimate things with him. All he had to do was look at her with those seductive brown eyes, and Sarah’s pussy began to tingle, and all the inhibitions and convictions that she believed she held dear simply faded away.

“Okay,” she said, forcing her tone to be casual, “now kick up a foot and we’ll continue.”

With a chuckle, Derek raised his left foot out of the water, obviously enjoying the special attention he was receiving. Sarah soaped his foot, ankle, and then calf, making her way slowly along his leg. The galvanized tub was not overly large, so Derek’s big frame was folded up considerably to fit into it. Sarah stopped washing when her hands were at the top of Derek’s thigh, just barely beneath the surface of the water.

“Now the other leg,” she said.

Derek lifted his right leg out of the water. Sarah leaned over him to begin washing his foot, and in doing so, brushed her breasts against his wet left knee. She leaned back for a moment, watching as the moist spot on her thin robe where she had touched Derek turned almost opaque, showing faintly the color of her areola through the cotton.

In a slightly strained voice, Derek said, “Why don’t you take that off?” He cleared his throat, then added with an attempt at innocence that didn’t quite meet the requirements, “No sense in getting your robe wet.”

Sarah gave a little shake of her head.

“Please?” Derek prodded.

Again she shook her head, averting her gaze from his.

Several seconds passed before Derek asked, “Why not?”

Sarah closed her eyes. She didn’t want to answer Derek’s question. She could feel his eyes on her, studying her, waiting for her. Finally she opened her eyes, glanced furtively at his face and then away, and said, “You’re beautiful. Your body is absolutely perfect.”

“Thank you,” Derek replied. “But that doesn’t answer my question.”

“Your body’s perfect. Mine’s not. I’m too...” The words drifted away and she felt her cheeks and ears getting pink with embarrassment. These were not comforting truths she was revealing. After several seconds of painful silence, she shrugged and explained, “My hips are too big...so are my thighs. And my breasts”
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she uttered a short, derisive laugh—“well...they’re way too big.”

She finished with his leg and, with a pat, indicated he could put his foot back in the water. That left only one part of his body that she hadn’t bathed. Whether it had happened consciously or unconsciously, she was now aware that she had left the best for last.

She reached with both hands into the murky water and immediately found Derek’s manhood. He was partially aroused. His magnificent penis was quite stiff but not yet fully extended, though he was still quite impressive. Sarah wrapped the fingers of her right hand around his shaft as she cradled his testicles in her left palm. A low, throaty groan of pleasure came from Derek, and Sarah smiled.

“Your body is perfect,” Sarah whispered, feeling Derek’s cock immediately responding to her touch, swelling instantly, filling her hand. Saucily, she added, “Absolutely...goddamned...perfect.”

With his arms on the edge of the tub and his feet flat to the bottom of it, Derek lifted his hips just enough to raise his pelvis out of the soapy water. His erection had reached full stature. Sarah’s hand moved slowly up and down over its length.

“You’re beautiful,” Sarah whispered, leaning over the tub. She made an effort to wipe away the soap suds from the head of his cock, and though only partially successful, she pushed her lips over the enflamed crown. She was aware of the taste of his flesh, but even more aware of the strong, briny taste of soap. Sarah bobbed up and down twice, and then eased her lips off Derek.

“Don’t move,” she said, reaching down for the pan of warm water. While continuing to hold firmly onto the base of Derek’s towering cock, Sarah raised the pan of water over his erection. Very slowly, drawing the moment out to increase the tension, she dribbled the clear water over his erection, and watched as the residue of soap washed away.

Derek, thoroughly aroused by this enchantress’s behavior, muttered, “Damn...damn...oh, damn...” And when Sarah leaned over his erection once again, opening her mouth wide to capture the crown of his cock between her lips, he sighed, “So...fucking...good!”

The last vestiges of the soap had been washed away, leaving for Sarah only the flavor of a singularly delectable banquet of a man named Derek. And, despite her inexperience in such erotic, gastronomic matters, Sarah Miller was quickly and rather avidly amusing herself by discovering, by degrees, just how much pleasure could be garnered by sucking, licking, nibbling, and generally devouring Derek’s cock. The only frustration Sarah experienced was when she tried to swallow Derek’s erection in its entirety. He was much too long, and considerably too thick, for her to accomplish her self-imposed goal. Nevertheless, she attempted the impossible several times, but always ended up gagging and sputtering because of her efforts.

Derek finally said, “Don’t hurt yourself. It’s not necessary, and you’re only making me feel guilty.”

Sarah turned watery eyes toward Derek, released his cock from her oral embrace with a wet smack, and said with absolute candor and innocence, “You don’t mind if I can’t take all of you?”

Derek nodded toward his cock, which stood up tall and proud, fiercely erect. Sarah’s hand barely covered a third of its length. “Does it look like I’m disappointed in you?”