Authors: Sabine Starr

Lady Gone Bad (13 page)

BOOK: Lady Gone Bad

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“You haven’t let me thank you for saving my life back there,” Rafe said, voice rough with emotion as he plunged a hand into her thick mane of hair.

Chapter 24

R
afe kissed Lady, slow and tender at first but gathering steam as banked embers caught fire and blazed. He relished the feel of her soft, plump mouth as he nibbled and licked from one delectable corner to the other.

She’d made him needy like no other woman. Now she deserved to feel some of his frustration.

He combed long fingers through her hair, gliding over a sensual layer of slick mud, imagining himself sliding over, under, and into her, creating enough friction to set both her and the pool of water on fire.

When she moaned, he caught the sound on his tongue, thrusting between her lips, tasting sweet and tart, feeling smooth and firm, driving deep, filling her, dancing with her tongue, realizing she was responding to him. That knowledge sent a wave of heat through him that made him so hard he hurt. He couldn’t get enough of her, quick enough.

He gently laid her back onto the soft bank and stroked her breasts through fabric clinging like a second skin. When he slid a hand over her heart, he felt the wild pounding echo the tempo of his own. Fingers slipping and sliding as he massaged in circles, he felt her nipples harden to taut peaks.

“I want to thank you everywhere,” he said, voice low and husky. “I want to feel your skin against mine.”

She spoke no words, only her eyes like polished agates talking urgently to him. She slowly raised her blouse in a smooth, graceful motion, exposing full, round breasts with rosy tips straining against a white chemise turned translucent by a thin, wet layer of mud.

Rafe hesitated as he savored the fact that Lady Gone Bad belonged to him alone. At the Red River Saloon, he couldn’t have imagined this moment, but now that it had come, he couldn’t imagine anything else. He gazed down at her. She wore no corset, needing nothing to enhance her natural tantalizing shape. She wore no jewelry, needing nothing to add to her beauty. She wore no face paint, needing nothing to emphasize the perfection of her appearance.

If a woman had ever been made to be worshipped by men, she had to be the one. He was ready to worship her in the only way he knew how, body to body.

In the light of the moon, she looked all satin and silver. She regarded him steadily, no words necessary.

Transferring her wrists to one hand, he used the other to push up her chemise so her breasts were completely exposed to him. He splashed warm water over them, sensitizing her as the mud slid away. He took his time savoring what he had wanted the first moment he saw her on stage, tormenting every man in the saloon. Only now he tormented her, setting mouth to nipple, sensitizing with teeth and mustache, while he kneaded the other breast with his free hand.

She whimpered, a sound caught between pain and pleasure, made musical by the quality of her voice. She reached out and stroked down his slick chest, pausing to tease his nipples into taut beads, caressing the straining muscles of his chest, soothing the shallow knife wounds. When she reached lower still, touching his hard, hot shaft through his trousers, he grabbed her wrists and thrust her hands up over her head so he could stay in complete control.

“No, ma’am. Not yet. I’m thanking you right now.”

He thumbed open the waist of her Levi’s, pulled loose the bow on the waistband of her drawers, and buried his tongue in her navel, nipping at soft flesh with his teeth. As he popped one button of her jeans after another and slowly eased them down with her drawers, he followed with his mouth, making his way toward the burning heart of her. In response, she squirmed, hips moving, thrusting up against him, sighs and moans increasing in intensity the lower he pressed kisses to her hot naked flesh.

Desperate to taste her, to give her a pleasure she’d never forget, Rafe let go of her wrists, grabbed her blue jeans and drawers, and then jerked them down to her ankles. She gasped as warm water washed over her, sloughing off the mud to reveal luminous skin. Another jerk completely freed her. He pulled the chemise up over her head, tossed the soft muslin aside, and she lay nude.

“Beautiful.” He marveled that she lay spread before him like a feast for the starving.

“Rafe,” she said, reaching down to grab the top button of his trousers. “I want to touch you, too.”

“Nope.” He shook his head regretfully, pushing her hand gently aside. “Not done thanking you yet.”

He was rock hard, needing a release so bad his teeth ached. But that wasn’t his goal. He’d keep on his trousers, no matter how tight, how uncomfortable, how miserable.

He started with her toes.

He licked and nibbled, using his hands to stroke up small ankles to firm calves, massaging, teasing, titillating. As he moved upward, he changed from hands to mouth, tasting every inch, memorizing every curve, sensitizing every valley until he reached her core. He hesitated, wondering how he could hold out and pleasure her first when his prick was so hard he felt ready to burst. But he wanted her to ache for him, to need him like he needed her, to never be able to forget how she felt at this moment. For that, he could delay his own pleasure.

He cupped her tight little ass with both hands, raising her upward. She slowly spread her legs for him, revealing the triangle that was her heart. The place he wanted most to be. When he leaned closer, he smelled not medicinal water but tantalizing lust. He dipped his tongue to her nub, licked, tasting tangy juices. And he was a goner.

All thoughts, all plans fled his mind as his body took over, needing her as much as she needed him. He used his tongue as he would his shaft to delve deeply into her hot, molten core.

When he felt her hands in his hair, urging him deeper, harder, he gripped her round butt. He massaged as she clinched her muscles and moaned, softly at first and then louder as she crested the wave, back arching, and shuddered with release after release under his expert touch.

Satisfied, he tugged her against his chest, lying down, pressing soft, sex-scented kisses to her lips, and she shuddered again.

“Now you’re my woman.”

She pulled away, chuckling, and stretched like a contented cat. Reaching between his legs, she caught the bulge that ached with explosive need for her.

“Think again, Deputy,” she crooned. “Feels like you belong to me.”

Chapter 25

T
o prove her point, Lady stroked and massaged till Rafe groaned and reached up for her. She pushed him back with the other hand, so she could toy with the dark hair that tapered downward from his chest and tease his belly button with a fingertip. She smiled in satisfaction at his needy reaction.

“You wantin’ some thanks, too?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper in the stillness of the night.

“Lady, that’s not thanks.” He groaned again. “That’s torture.”

She chuckled, a low vibration deep in her throat. “Payback then. You’ve been an awful lot of trouble.” She slapped his chest, feeling the sting against her palm. “Bad!”

Rafe grabbed her hand and pushed it down with the other, pressing both hard against his crotch. “You lookin’ for trouble?”

She smiled, a slight tilt to one corner of her rosy lips. “You the man to give it to me?

“What do you think?” He sat up, a lock of dark hair falling above his right eye as he stared intently at her.

“Not sure.” She leaned forward, allowing her full breasts to swing outward, tips brushing against the coarse hair of his bare chest. She shivered, feeling her nipples tighten into taut peaks. “Prove it.”

Still holding her hands in place, he reached out, touched the tip of one breast, and pinched, lightly and then harder.

She moaned as the painful pleasure swept straight to her core, making her hot and wet. She caught a quick breath. “You call that trouble?”

He pinched again, and then covered both breasts with large hands, squeezing and massaging as he pressed hot kisses across her face, rasping with his mustache to sensitize her delicate skin. When he captured her mouth, he plunged deep inside to pillage and plunder while he released her breasts to wrap hands around her shoulders and pull her hard against his broad chest as if he could bear no distance between them.

Caught between hot and cold, pain and pleasure, guilt and innocence, she rode his passion with her own burning desire. She felt consumed by their wild and wicked lust. And she wanted nothing more than to feel him thrust inside her, stallion to mare.

But in the next moment, she heard an owl hoot high in a nearby tree followed by the distant jingle of a horse’s bridle. Passion fled. She shivered as she pushed against Rafe’s chest, but he was too deep in passion to notice. She hit his shoulder.

“What?” He raised his head, voice slurred, breath fast.

She looked down. She was stark naked, no pistol, boots, nothing. Defenseless. How could she have dropped her guard, especially so quickly after the saloon fight? One word for it all.
Rafe
.

“Are you having second thoughts?” he asked. “I’d never force you.”

“Shhh!” she hissed, listening hard. She’d been trained to notice the slightest change of sound in a forest. No owl. Eerily quiet, as if all the wildlife had scattered or gone to ground to avoid danger. But she definitely heard the muted clip-clop of a horse headed their way. “Better get your shirt.” She glanced at the pool of water, so enticing a moment before but now a place of entrapment. “I’ll find my clothes.”

“What’s going on?”

“Somebody’s coming,” she whispered. “Let’s get out of here.”

“You sure?”

“Listen.”

He cocked his head, gave her a quick nod, then picked up his shirt and went after his boots.

She located her underwear, blouse, and Levi’s, and quickly rinsed off the mud in the water. She rolled her clothes into a ball so they wouldn’t drip and leave a trail. She grabbed her boots. She glanced around. Impossible to cover their tracks, too much churned up mud from hooves, boots, and bare feet. All they could do was get out of sight and arm themselves.

Rafe joined her at the tree line. They hurried to the horses. He slipped into his wet shirt while she pulled on her chemise and drawers, sodden fabric clinging like a second skin. She hid her other clothes behind a rock, and then jerked her rifle out of its sheath. Face grim, Rafe buckled on his gun belt, quickly adjusting his Peacemaker on his hip.

When she heard the steady cadence of a horse’s hooves drawing close, she gripped Rafe’s arm. He nodded, and put a hand on Justice’s nose to keep the gelding quiet. She did the same with Jipsey. She didn’t want their mounts communicating with the approaching horse and giving away their hidden position under the trees.

A little later, she heard someone step down from a horse, saddle leather creaking in protest. The person quietly walked around the area, most likely tracking, stopped as if listening, and then walked back to the horse. Whoever it was couldn’t miss their trail, but maybe would think they’d moved out earlier.

She kept her breath shallow, watching the ground, stilling her thoughts, holding her body motionless. She pretended not to be there and hoped Rafe knew to do the same thing.

“Lady?” a man called out. “Lady Gone Bad!”

She stayed frozen. He sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place his voice. He’d trailed them at night to a little known spot. Not easy. Doubtful he was American, so most likely Indian. Zip rode with a tracker, Heck Humby. She could only hope she didn’t have to deal with them. She stilled her thoughts again, determined to give nothing away.

“Crowdy here.”

Relief raced through her. Not Zip or his men. She took a deep breath and glanced at Rafe.

He raised his eyebrows, questioning the newcomer.

She nodded okay. “Crowdy, you alone?”

“Yep.”

Lady needed to make a decision fast.

“Trust him?” Rafe whispered, jerking on his boots.

“Yes. But better be cautious. Zip might be forcing Crowdy to lure us out into the open.”

“Get dressed,” Rafe hissed. “I’ll scout around Crowdy’s back trail, see if Zip is hanging back there, and come up on the far side.”

“He’ll know.”

“Don’t matter. We’d be fools to do otherwise.”

“True. He’ll expect it.” She set aside her rifle. “Go. I’ll talk from here and distract him while I dress.”

Rafe wrapped fingers around the back of her head, held her tight, and pressed an ardent kiss to her lips. “When we’re done with Crowdy, we’re picking up where we left off.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You do like to live dangerous.”

Chapter 26

R
afe didn’t find anybody else lurking around Medicine Spring. Crowdy hadn’t tried to lynch him yet, so that was a point in the Indian’s favor. On the other hand, Crowdy had been selling whiskey and beer in his saloon. That was a federal crime. If Rafe had been wearing his badge back at the Boggy, he’d have been obligated to take the saloonkeeper to jail. As it stood, Rafe needed as many friends as he could get on the other side of the law, so he’d reserve judgment about Crowdy’s character.

“Saloon burn all the way down?” Rafe asked as he stepped away from the tree line and walked toward the pool.

Crowdy glanced up, hands cupped from drinking water, where he knelt beside his horse. “Tinderbox. Went up fast.”

“River and creek contain the fire?”

“Yep.”

“Everybody get out alive?

“Yep.”

“Too bad,” Lady said, walking toward Medicine Spring from the other direction. “Zip always makes trouble.”

“Thinks he’s big boss-man,” Crowdy said.

Lady chuckled. “Like all these independent cusses in Indian Territory are going to let him boss them around.”

Crowdy nodded, face somber.

“Any of them come this way?” Rafe joined Lady near the edge of the pool, noticing that she looked good in the green blouse and split-skirt she’d gotten in Paris. He felt a deep satisfaction that he’d paid for it, as if that fact made her belong to him more. He wished like hell they hadn’t been interrupted, but he figured they had to be neighborly now that the saloonkeeper was here.

“Scattered. Mad as wet hens,” Crowdy said.

Lady chuckled again. “They’re always spoiling for a fight.”

“Are you going to rebuild?” Rafe asked.

Crowdy stood up, led his horse to a grassy area to eat, and then walked back with a blanket folded over one arm. “Why?”

“Business.”

“Bound to happen.” Crowdy shrugged. “Fire cleanses.”

“Crowdy did the best he could to keep the place clean,” Lady said.

“Like Indians,” Crowdy agreed.

“Most Indians make a point of keeping themselves and their belongings clean.” Lady shook her head. “But a lot of Americans coming into Indian Territory never bathe, carry vermin, and spit on tobacco on floors. They bring in deadly diseases, too.”

Rafe nodded in understanding. He’d seen a lot of that in jails and saloons. Baths weren’t exactly easy to come by. Some men swore a bath would break their health, so they never let soap and water touch their skin, much less their clothes. Indians had died in the thousands because of European diseases like smallpox and cholera. But he didn’t know what that had to do with burning down a saloon.

“Place was crawling with vermin,” Lady said. “Eating the timbers, infesting the beds, stinging the patrons.”

“Fire cleanses,” Crowdy said again.

“I can see that,” Rafe agreed, “but it was still your business and most men wouldn’t mind a few bugs.”

“Next Young Moon,” Crowdy said.

Rafe didn’t know what that had to do with the fire, so he didn’t say anything.

“New moon,” she explained, “is considered the most propitious time for beginnings.”

“So you’re going to rebuild,” Rafe said, not much liking the idea that once he wore his marshal’s badge again, he’d have to return and arrest the saloonkeeper.

“Ashes feed green shoots,” Crowdy said.

“He’s free to get on with his life now,” Lady said.

“Wait a minute,” Rafe said. “Let me get this straight, are you or are you not going to rebuild?”

Crowdy smiled, a slight twitch to his lips, and gave Lady a sidelong glance. “Gold in pockets. Horses on horizon.”

Lady laughed. “Long as I’ve known Crowdy, he’s wanted to raise horses. Looks like he’s finally going to do it.”

“Big meet at Stone Corral,” Crowdy said. “Plenty of horses there.”

“You going?” Lady asked.

“Not a bad idea,” Crowdy said.

“Hayes Brothers told me they’d pass the hat if I sang there.”

“I’d like to see Robber’s Cave,” Rafe added.

“Fact is, I’m plum broke.” Lady winked at Crowdy. “You took the last of my money.”

“Helped lighten your load,” Crowdy said, a touch of humor in his voice.

Lady chuckled. “You did that, all right.” She glanced at Rafe. “Maybe we’ll go on up there.”

Crowdy slanted a glance at Rafe. “Outlaws’ll swarm Robber’s Cave. You sure you want to go?”

Rafe hesitated, for a moment thinking that maybe somehow Crowdy knew he was a lawman and was giving him a warning. But no, the Indian just looked normally somber. “No reason not to see the place.”

“Saloon gone. Outlaws gone. No lawmen,” Crowdy said.

Rafe glanced at Lady, again wondering if maybe Crowdy
was
giving him a warning after all.

She shrugged as if she didn’t know either.

He guessed there was no way to know the truth of the matter, not without asking Crowdy point-blank. Might not do any good anyway. At least the former saloonkeeper was no longer selling whiskey. He wouldn’t be wanted by the law. Left Rafe off the hook for arresting one of Lady’s friends.

“The Boggy Saloon is in your past now,” Lady said. “I’d like to see all those horses. I’m looking for a good stallion.”

“Mare better,” Crowdy said. “Stallions like wind. Mares like gold.”

“I’ve got my mare. Jipsey. Now I need my stallion.”

“You’ll find him,” Crowdy said.

“Crowdy’s a perfect example of why the best horses are in Indian Territory,” Lady said, glancing at Rafe. “A lot of Indian wealth is valued in horses.”

“Good idea,” Rafe agreed. “If you’ve got a horse, you’re alive. If you’re on foot, you may be dead.”

“Smart man,” Crowdy said, humor underlying his words. “You got vittles?”

“Guess you lost everything in the fire,” Lady said.

Crowdy nodded.

“As a matter of fact, we’ve got some good food we bought in Paris.”

“Big place.” Crowdy said. “Went there once.”

“Never again?” Lady asked.

“Like it best here.” Crowdy sat down by the water and wrapped his blanket around him. He pulled out fixin’s from a leather beaded and fringed bag tied at his waist. “Smoke?”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Rafe sat down beside him.

“I’ll get the food,” Lady said, rolling her eyes, “while you two brave warriors keep watch.”

“Don’t build a fire,” Rafe warned, reaching out for tobacco. “Wouldn’t want to attract any desperados.”

“Not likely,” Lady said. “Plenty here.”

BOOK: Lady Gone Bad

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