TheSurrenderofLacyMorgan (9 page)

Dakota watched shadows play over her golden skin in the
dancing firelight. Images of how she’d serviced him and Quinn in the river
filled his mind. His shaft hardened in response. The suppleness of her skin
beneath his hands as he’d bathed her made his fingers itch to stroke more
passion from her. But it was her words that haunted him.

“The truth is, I helped in a robbery, and because of me
three people are dead. How are you going to protect me from that?”

He suspected there was so much more to her and her story
than he or Quinn knew.

“What’s got your craw?” Quinn asked as he cleaned his
pistol.

“Our pet isn’t quite what she seems.”

Quinn’s movements stopped and he stared across the fire at
their captive. His eyes narrowed and he tensed, his anger a palpable thing.
“Don’t let a pretty face and lusty body fool you. She’s still a bank-robbing
murderess.”

“You heard her confess to us that it was her first time to
ride with Devil’s gang on a bank job. Do you doubt her?”

“No. Her responses are too deep, too pure. She isn’t capable
of lying when she’s near her climax.” Quinn went back to working his weapon.
“It doesn’t change the fact that she participated in the robbery that resulted
in the death of three people, one being Cap.”

“I know your thirst for vengeance. It gnaws at my soul too.
Cap was a father to us both. He taught us everything we know about being
marshals.”

“Damn straight. And I intend to see his killers brought to
justice.”

Dakota cast him a long look. “Is justice served by hanging someone
who simply held the horses along with the men who actually pulled the trigger?”

“Cap always taught us there’s a consequence for every
decision. Lacy made a bad decision and now she’s got to face the consequences.”

Sometimes Quinn’s focus on one small detail kept him from
seeing beyond it. It made him a determined tracker and lawman, but kept his
compassion in check.

Dakota watched Lacy. Despite living among a gang of thieves,
she still had a vulnerable quality. Quinn would tell him he was soft in the
head, but since coming to live with Anson, he’d been able to see past the
external trapping to the soul of the person, even if they tried to hide it from
themselves.

Lacy’s unguarded responses made him crave more from her. Her
sensuality called to the wild part of him. Would being around her too
long—using her—bring out that beast he’d fought to tame?

Wherever they were headed, and he sensed Quinn knew the
physical map better than the mental one, at least one of them was in for a
dangerous trip.

“Cap also taught us to look for the truth, even if it’s not
what we want to see or hear.” He stood and stretched, then grabbed his rifle.
“I’ll take the first watch tonight.”

Quinn squinted up at him. “You never take first watch.”

“You needed to last night,” he said, reminding them both of
the state of Quinn’s lust after teasing Lacy. “Tonight it’s my turn.” He
stalked off into the woods, listening to Quinn’s deep chuckle behind him.

Quinn watched Dakota’s retreating form disappear into the
darkness, walking as if he were uncomfortable, no doubt due to the giant bulge
in his pants. His brother had a need for physical release he wouldn’t force on
their captive.

With another chuckle he turned his attention back to their
camp only to find Lacy watching him intently from her spot across the fire with
her copper curls framing her heart-shaped face like dark fire, her green eyes
glittering in the firelight.

Interesting.

Lacy had chameleon eyes that changed with her emotions.

They’d been a warm jade before when she was in the throes of
her passion. Wary and curious now, they’d become like emeralds.

The dark cleft between her luscious breasts drew his
thoughts to the feel and taste of them, she looked like a wanton sex goddess
ready for a sacrifice.

His cock filled with blood and strained against the buttons
holding his pants shut. Any harder and those buttons would pop and fly like
champagne corks.

Damn. What the hell was wrong with him? He hadn’t been this
randy over a woman since Betsy Tulliver let him diddle her pussy in the loft of
her father’s livery when he was thirteen. Of course his lust had been doused
when she’d refused the same privilege to Dakota, calling him a dirty
half-breed.

But Lacy hadn’t refused either of them. Yes, they’d used her
own submissiveness to coax her to cooperate, never really given her a chance to
refuse, but when she’d gone down on her knees in the river today, she’d been
equally happy to suck on him and Dakota. Perhaps it was her own mixed heritage
that made her more accepting? Maybe it was having two men using her?

Last night she’d been so responsive, he’d wanted to sink his
cock deep inside her, claim her as his. He’d recognized the animal inside him.
That’s why he’d taken first watch. He’d needed time to get his lust under
control. Today had been the same.

It was one thing to tease her body for her own pleasure and
reward her cooperation with her climaxes. Using her to slake his own lust? That
seemed wrong.

She reached up and tucked a loose curl behind her ear, her
focus on the flames once more.

If she was willing and he didn’t ask her anything about
Devil, would it still be wrong? Could he coax her into fucking him willingly?
How much of his guard would he have to let down?

Anger shot through him.

Why was he worrying about right or wrong when it came to
her? She’d been with the men who’d killed Cap.

He didn’t owe her any compassion. None. He could just force
her to obey him. God knew it wouldn’t take much. She was a hot bitch once her
defenses were breached.

“Women and horses should be handled with a firm but
gentle hand, boy.”

Anson’s deep voice rumbled in his mind’s ear. He’d been all
of thirteen when Cap had given him this lesson. They’d just brought in a herd
of wild mustangs to break for the local cavalry unit.
“A man who’d abuse
either should be horsewhipped.”

“What if they don’t obey you? How else you supposed to
get them to do what you want?” he’d asked, trying to learn from the man he
respected above all others.

“It takes a real man to protect his woman and his horse,
provide for them. Always put their needs first.” Anson reached up to rub a
horse’s neck and ears. “There’s always a way to coax a horse or a woman into
trusting you. Once they do, you’ll have less trouble with either one.”

How did he coax Lacy when his anger ate at him like maggots
on a rotting corpse? Somehow he needed to leash his need to punish her and find
a way to have her bed him willingly. Before he forced the issue or he died from
perpetual lust.

He stood and slid his gun into its holster. Not taking his
eyes off his prey, he slowly circled the campfire.

* * * * *

How could she have done those things today? Sucking on a
man’s cock? Not just one man. Two men? Even her mother, when she was living
with Devil, had never done something so shameful.

Somehow she had to find a way to escape her captors before
she no longer had the desire or strength to do so.

Lacy swallowed hard and tucked a loose strand of hair behind
her ear, staring into the fire. What was it about these two men that made her
want to obey them, to please them? None of Devil’s men had affected her in this
way. Even Santos, with his smooth words and beautiful looks, had taken months
to worm his way past her barriers.

There was nothing beautiful or smooth about Quinn. All hard
angles and anger that went deeper than his need for justice. He was in charge.
He’d suffer no defiance. And he intended to see her pay for her crimes, whether
at Devil’s hands or the hangman’s, it didn’t matter to him.

A shudder shot through her.

Without thinking she reached up to stroke the gold collar at
her neck. As always it soothed her nerves. She must be touched in the head to
find herself drawn to Quinn, yet she was. Without question or refusal, whenever
he awoke her sensual nature she could do nothing more than obey him.

A shadow fell over her.

Startled, she glanced up at Quinn, noticed the bulge in his
pants and edged away. When had he moved so silently around the fire?

He squatted beside her. “That’s a magnificent necklace.
Where did you get it?”

“It was my mother’s. She gave it to me the day she died.”

“I’m surprised Devil let you keep it.”

“I haven’t taken it off since the day Mama fastened it
around my neck. Devil tried to take it once. I threatened to shoot him. He knew
I meant it, so he backed off.”

“I bet he didn’t take kindly to you standing up to him.”

She shrugged. “He knew I hated him for how he treated Mama.
But I also knew that after she died it was only a matter of time before he
forced me to take her place. I would rather kill myself.”

She turned to stare into the fire once more. A quiet silence
settled between them. After a few minutes he stood and stared down at her.

“It’s time for bed.” His hands grasped hers like warm, firm
manacles. Slowly he pulled her from the blanket.

She fought his efforts, twisting her arms, only to have him
grip her tighter. “I’m not going to let you use me anymore.”

“Sweetness, you’ve received quite a bit of pleasure from
us.”

“Not because I wanted to help you.” She dug her heels into
the dirt and tried to pull loose.

“Stop that before you get hurt.” He slipped his arm around
her waist and hauled her up tight against him.

She bared her teeth and tried to bite him.

He twisted his shoulder away and grabbed her by the chin,
stilling her efforts. “Careful. I bite back.”

The look in his eyes told her he meant the threat.

She narrowed her eyes, hating him for being stronger. If
only she could get her hands on a weapon.

“Going to behave?” He tightened his hold on her jaw.

Given his strength, she couldn’t manhandle him. Maybe she’d
have to outthink him. She banked her own anger and fear, nodding slowly.

“Good girl.” He loosened his hold on her face, letting his
fingers caress her jawline before lowering his hand. Then, before she knew what
he was about, he looped the leather bindings over her wrists and bound them
once more.

Firelight cast his face in shadows, his eyes like two blue
orbs shining in the darkness. Her heartbeat quickened like the wings of a
hummingbird trapped inside her chest. “Please. No more. I…I promise not to
run.”

He held her bound hands between them with one hand and with
the other smoothed her curls from around her face. “Shh, kitten. It’s time for
sleeping. That’s all.”

Before she could protest, he leaned in and kissed her. A
soft, simple tasting of his lips on hers. Not demanding. Almost comforting. And
yet it stole her breath with its sweetness.

He slid his free hand down her shoulder and arm to her back.
He pulled her closer but didn’t press anymore. He held her as if she might
break, repeating the soft kiss over and over until she melted up against him.

“That’s it, kitten. Relax,” he murmured against her lips
while his hand massaged her upper back. He delved in again, his tongue sliding
through her parted lips to taste her as if she were some rich dessert to be
savored over time.

He tasted just as delicious. She wanted more, to indulge
until her stomach ached from him and the need clawing its way from her sex to
her chest. Just as she decided to surrender, he pulled away, their lips
clinging a moment longer, breath mixing as they parted.

Still flushed from his kiss, she lifted her gaze to his and
opened her mouth to beg for more. He settled a finger on her lips, stilling her
plea. “Sleep.”

With a gentleness that shocked her, he eased her down onto
his bedroll, which he’d spread out near the fire. He sat beside her and pulled
off his boots, then his gun. He laid them on the far side out of her reach.

She curled on her side away from him.

What game was he playing now? He said they were only going
to sleep. Why would he kiss her like that if he didn’t mean to use her body?
Could she trust him? Or was this a trick? He’d wait until she was relaxed, then
pounce?

Beside her, he shifted, spooning in behind her. She jumped
as he pulled the blanket up over them both, his hand resting just under her
breasts.

“I can see the questions filling your head. Stop thinking.
Nothing is going to happen tonight.” He let out a yawn. “Just sleep.”

Lying perfectly still, she waited for his hand to move or
his body to press closer. Then his breathing became rhythmic and he started to
snore just above her ear, the soft sound of someone sleeping.

A movement across the camp caught her attention. Dakota
stepped out of the trees. He circled the horses, checking their tethers, his
hands brushing against their hides. Stopping at each one’s head, he leaned in
and whispered something to them.

What was he saying? Good night? That they could rest easy
and he’d protect them? Did he use that same gentle voice he’d used on her at
the river today when he tried to reassure her?

Quinn and Dakota were quite a pair. One carried his anger
like a shield—strong, powerful, completely in control. The other, strong in his
own right, yet with a voice used to calm those around him. How was she supposed
to fight the two of them?

When she opened her eyes again, Dakota had disappeared. She
squinted into the darkness beyond the firelight to find him hunkered down near
the trees, watching her intently, his rifle laid across his lap.

He held her gaze for a moment, then nodded before turning to
scan the surrounding area once more.

The heat from Quinn’s body seeped through her clothes.
Cocooned beneath the blanket with him, the day’s long journey and her own
emotions finally took their toll.