Only Love (15 page)

She had seen Whip look like that only once before, when the Culpeppers were baiting her. Whip had been furious then.

He was furious now.

Shannon scrambled to her feet without touching his outstretched hand.

“I’m fine,” she said. “See?”

“I see that you’re a fool, Shannon Conner Smith.”

She winced. “Why are you yell—”

“You could have been killed!”

“But you were—”

“I told you to get back,” Whip continued, talking over Shannon harshly. “Did you listen? Hell no! You came running up and shoved that antique shotgun right up the grizzly’s ass!”

“It was his arm, not his—”

“If the recoil hadn’t knocked you down, you would be dead right now! Do you hear me, you
little idiot?
You would have died and I couldn’t have done a damn thing about it!”

Adrenaline and anger combined to overcome Shannon’s good sense. She put her clenched fists on her hips and glared right back up into Whip’s face.

“So what was I supposed to do?” she demanded. “Stand by and darn socks while that grizzly clawed you into pieces too small to use in a rag rug?”

“Yes!”

“Ha! And
you
have the gall to call
me
a fool! Well, let me tell you something, yondering man. When it comes to being a fool, you not only win the race, you also take second, third, and fo—”

Shannon’s tirade ended in a surprised sound as Whip yanked her off her feet and buried his tongue in her mouth. She fought for an instant, then gave back the kiss every bit as fiercely as he was giving it to her.

Prettyface snarled and circled the grizzly again, then darted in and set his teeth into the furry hide. He shook his head hard, harrying the prey.

Neither Whip nor Shannon noticed.

It was a long time before Whip let Shannon slide down the length of his torso until her feet touched the ground once more. The rigid arousal of his body told Shannon the same thing the kiss had.

Whip wanted her. All of her.

And all of him was doing the wanting.

“Oh, my,” Shannon said raggedly, hanging on to Whip as her knees buckled. “I’ve been hoping you would kiss me like that every day since the hailstorm.”

Whip let out a long, long breath. Then he tilted back Shannon’s head and looked at her with eyes that were no longer the color of winter.

“Why didn’t you say something?” he asked. “I thought you didn’t want me to touch you anymore.”

“What was I supposed to do? Walk up to you and say I wanted you to—to—”

“Yes,” Whip said simply.

Shannon blushed, bit her lip, and looked up at Whip with eyes as wide and deeply blue as the sky.

“Cat got your tongue?” he teased.

She made a fist and hit him lightly on his muscular shoulder.

Laughing softly, Whip gathered Shannon close and rocked her slowly from side to side, resting his chin on top of her head.

“How anyone can be so fierce and so shy at the same time is a pure wonder,” he said after a few moments.

“I’m not fierce. And I’m not shy.”

“Of course not,” he said gravely. “You’re a tender little mouse who cowers at the first hint of danger. And you’re a brazen little hussy who throws herself at a man.”

“You’re teasing me.”

“Not just yet. I’m thinking about it, though.” Whip smiled like a cat licking cream. “I’m giving it a lot of thought, in fact.”

Shannon couldn’t see Whip’s smile, but she could hear it in his voice. She smiled in turn and nuzzled against his chest.

Hair tickled her nose.

She made a startled sound as she realized anew that Whip wasn’t wearing a shirt.

“What is it?” he asked, holding Shannon away so that he could see her face. “Are you hurt after all?”

She shook her head.

“Then what?” Whip asked.

“You.”

“What about me?”

“You’re not wearing a shirt.”

“I was just getting dressed when the bear showed up. But if it will make you feel better, you can take off your shirt, too.”

Shannon stared at him, then laughed out loud.

“Now you
are
teasing me,” she said.

She smiled, but didn’t rest her head on Whip’s bare chest again.

“Does it really bother you to see me like this?” he asked.

“No,” Shannon admitted softly. “It’s just that the sight of all that silky fur makes me want to pet you like Prettyface.”

“Head to heels and back again?” Whip suggested in a deep voice.

For a shimmering instant Shannon looked at Whip from head to heels and back again. The thought of touching him in the same way made her almost dizzy.

“The look on your face…” Whip said, laughing. “Come on, honey girl. We’ll leave Prettyface to worry over the bear in peace.”

Whip swung Shannon up in his arms like a child and began walking back toward camp. He didn’t stop until he reached the opposite edge of the forest, where he had made a night camp separate from hers.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you why,” Shannon said, looking at his bedroll, “but you were so darned touchy I thought better of it.”

Whip made a questioning sound.

“Why did you camp over here instead of by the fire with me?” she asked.

“This is close enough to hear you if you need me, and far enough that I don’t lie awake listening to you breathe, listening to you move, listening to the blankets slide over you the way I want to.”

Shannon tried to speak but couldn’t. The look in Whip’s eyes stole her breath and made heat glitter through the center of her body.

“You couldn’t sleep either?” she managed to whisper.

“Passion is a two-way street. Didn’t you know?”

She shook her head.

Whip opened his mouth to say something about Silent John’s limitations as a lover, but thought better of it. Right now Whip didn’t want to think about Silent John.

And he sure as hell didn’t want Shannon thinking about Silent John, either.

“Tell me again,” Whip said almost roughly. “Tell me that you want me.”

“Yes,” Shannon whispered. “Oh, yes. I didn’t know this kind of wanting existed.”

Her words aroused Whip fiercely, yet gave him more self-control than he had had since he first saw Shannon’s hips swinging gently as she walked past him in Holler Creek.

The waiting was finally over. She was going to be his lover. Nothing could stop it now.

“It’s going to be good, honey girl,” Whip said, lowering Shannon to his bedroll. “It’s going to be so damned good.”

“As good as before?”

“Better.”

“I think I’ll die of it, then.”

Whip’s smile was as sensuous as his lips brushing over Shannon’s mouth.

“Lie still for me,” he whispered against her
mouth. “I’ve been dreaming about how it would be to undress you, look at you, touch you. Now I won’t have to live on dreams anymore.”

A shiver that was part nervousness and part delicious anticipation went through Shannon. With half-closed eyes, she watched Whip kneel at her feet and remove her boots. He peeled away her much-darned socks and wrapped his hands around her slender feet.

“You’re always as clean as sunshine,” Whip said.

“The hot spring,” she said, and could say no more.

“The Culpeppers ride by hot springs every day, and those boys are dirtier than any Comanchero.”

Whip looked at Shannon’s long, shiny braids and creamy skin.

“At first I thought you bathed so often because you wanted to be pleasing to me. Then I realized it was just your way. Spearmint and fresh water, honey and cream.”

Whip’s hands shifted, caressing the sensitive soles of Shannon’s feet. She made a throttled sound as her feet arched in sensual reflex.

“Ticklish?” he asked.

“Not…quite.”

“How about this?”

Whip bent his head and smoothed his mouth over the arch of her foot. Just at the point it would have tickled, he sank his teeth delicately into her skin.

Shannon gasped as she discovered how deliciously sensitive the arch of her foot was.

“Am I tickling you?” Whip asked.

“No,” she whispered, staring at him with wide, luminous eyes. “I just didn’t know that men kissed women there.”

“Did you like it?”

“Yes…”

She shivered and made a low sound of pleasure as Whip caressed her other foot. Her response sent an answering tremor through his powerful body.

“There’s so much of loving you don’t know about,” Whip said, looking at Shannon hungrily. “All the sweet tastes and hidden textures of passion. I’m going to know every last one of yours, honey girl. And when we’re too tired to breathe, I’m going to fall asleep deep inside you and wake up with the taste of you on my tongue and then we’ll begin all over again, touching and tasting and knowing, being alive in each other.”

Shannon didn’t understand most of what Whip was saying, but she didn’t care. The sensual blaze of his eyes and the gentleness of his big hands told her everything that mattered.

No matter how great Whip’s strength, no matter how fierce his hunger, she was safe with him.

Watching with curious, hungry eyes, Shannon allowed Whip to unfasten her shirt and ease it down her arms. Her breasts peaked before he touched them, for she had seen the smoky approval in his glance. Then his head bent, his mouth opened, and he shocked her to her toes by taking the tip of one breast into his mouth.

“
Whip.
”

He made a hungry, questioning sound, swirled his tongue around the hardened nipple, and drew her deep into his mouth.

The rhythmic movements of Whip’s mouth sent pleasure stabbing through Shannon, arching her back even as her fingers blindly raked through his hair, holding him close. She had no breath, no thought, nothing but the changing pressures and
textures of his mouth as he suckled her, shaping and hardening the nipple even more with each stab of his tongue.

By the time Whip lifted his head, Shannon was twisting slowly beneath him and whimpering softly, feverishly. He looked at her breast, taut and glistening from his mouth, and he let out a ragged breath.

“I’ve been around the world three times,” Whip said in a husky voice, “and I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than you all shiny and proud from my loving.”

“I—didn’t—know,” she said raggedly.

“You’ve never been kissed like that?”

Shannon shook her head even as she watched Whip’s mouth with shocked, curious eyes.

“Does it matter that I’m as naive as an egg?” she whispered.

“No,” Whip said. “Teaching you, watching you respond…it gives me a kind of pleasure I’ve never known.”

Whip bent down to Shannon again, and again he taught her something about pleasure. She learned that it could build and build until her body was burning with a need so great she pleaded helplessly with him to end the sweet torment.

He laughed softly and refused to be drawn closer.

“Not yet, honey girl. There are a whole lot of ways of touching and kissing left to explore.”

Shannon’s eyes opened in disbelief.

Smiling, Whip raked his teeth lightly over one proud breast, then the other. Then he sheathed his teeth with his lips and tested the velvet tension of her nipple.

Pleasure lashed Shannon, making her gasp.

“Whip?”

The husky voice licked over him like fire.

“What?” he asked.

“I can’t—take it.”

“If I can, you can.”

“But I’m not kissing you.”

“Not this time. I’m way too hungry for that. Next time, though. Next time I’ll teach you how to make me sweat and shake with need of you.”

Whip’s hands moved with the quickness that was as much a part of him as his fallen angel smile. Shannon felt the rest of her clothes sliding down her legs. Unease went through her, but far stronger was the memory of pleasure she had once known at his hands.

“That’s what you’re going to be doing before I’m through,” Whip said in a low voice. “Sweating and shaking with need of me.”

Slowly he ran the back of his fingers up between her legs from her ankles to the dark mahogany cloud just above her thighs. His big hands shifted, circling the top of her thighs, flexing deeply, urging her legs farther and farther apart even as he caressed them.

Then Whip became very still but for the quickness of his breathing.

“I thought nothing could be more beautiful than your breasts,” Whip said finally. “I was wrong.”

Shannon followed his glance down her body and made a startled sound. She was sprawled wantonly, wholly naked to his eyes, his touch. Reflexively she moved to cover herself, but found that impossible. Whip was kneeling between her thighs, bracing them apart with his knees while he caught both of her hands in one of his own. He was holding her in a gentle, immovable vise.

“Too late, honey girl,” he said huskily. “You set free something in me that no other woman has. I don’t know what it is, but I’m damned sure I’m going to find out.”

One of Whip’s fingertips circled the lush flower that had opened for him. Shannon trembled and made a broken sound.

“Tell me again that you want me,” Whip said thickly.

As he spoke, he parted the flushed petals with two fingertips, seeking the honey within.

“Yes,” she said huskily. “
Yes.
”

Shannon’s hips moved as she cried out, and his fingertips knew the hot, silky kiss of her desire.

“Honey girl,” he whispered. “God, I love feeling your pleasure.”

She started to speak, but her breath wedged in her throat as she felt Whip’s caress slowly deepen. The feeling of having him within her even by so small a measure was as unexpected as it was extraordinary. Heat swept through her, leaving her skin flushed, sultry, exquisitely sensitive.

But nothing was as sensitive as the flesh Whip was softly stretching even as he caressed her. Pleasure coiled relentlessly inside Shannon, twisted, redoubled, and then held her arched and quivering on a rack of need.

Shannon moaned and moved her hips in a reflex as old as desire, seeking to draw Whip more deeply inside her body.

Instead, Whip’s touch lessened as he forced himself to withdraw all but his fingertips.

“Not yet,” Whip said, his voice hoarse with fierce restraint. “You’re not ready. You’re so tight, honey girl. And I’m not as small as your husband
was. We’ll have to take this slow and gentle for a little longer. Like this.”