This Calder Sky (6 page)

“It'll only take a couple of minutes to get a fire going,” he said, but received no response.

The sun-sered wood was like tinder, catching with the first match. Chase fanned it with his hat and let it burn good for a minute, then built a teepee of fatter pieces to keep it going. The girl scooted closer to the warmth it sent out, huddling deep inside his jacket, which came all the way down to her thighs. His gaze swept over the moisture beaded on the raised flesh of her bare legs. As he began unbuttoning his shirt, she slanted him another one of those wary green looks.

Using his shirt as a towel, he began drying her legs, starting with her feet and working his way up the calves of her legs to above the knees. He rubbed hard to stimulate the circulation. His roughness brought a barely stifled sound of protest from her. Chase knew he was causing a thousand nerve ends to tingle painfully.

When he was through, he jabbed a long branch upright in the sandy soil beside the fire and draped his damp shirt over it to dry. It was only then that he became aware of the squishing wetness of his socks and boots. He pulled them off and squeezed the water from the woolen socks, laying them on the outer edge of the fire to steam.

Through all of this, Maggie watched him silently. Feeling began to steal back into her body, the shuddering reduced to occasional shivers, thanks to the warmth of the fire and the heavy, man's jacket around her.

Both her father and her brother, Culley, were
smallbuilt men. Neither had the broad, muscular chest and arms that Chase Calder had, or that thick patch of chestnut hair on his breastbone. She studied the play of those flat, ropy muscles as he worked, all hard flesh and bone. He seemed a mountain of a man to her. A trace of awe surfaced and Maggie fought it down the only way she knew how.

“You look ridiculous in that hat with no shirt or boots,” she told him.

“I do, huh?” Taking off his hat, he set it on the ground and ran a hand through the unruly thickness of his umber hair. Then he cast her a wicked glance. “You aren't exactly well dressed, either, kid.”

“That's because you took my clothes.” The wetness of her long hair against her skin was becoming uncomfortable. Maggie tried to lift it outside the collar, while keeping the jacket securely around her and her arms inside. “And I'm not a kid,” she added in protest, still struggling with the heaviness of her hair.

“I noticed,” he murmured dryly. Vividly, he remembered what she looked like beneath that jacket and could attest to the fact that she possessed a woman's body. The memory of it stirred him as he watched the trouble she was having. “I'll do that,” Chase volunteered and rose to step behind he.

Starting at her cheekbones, his fingers moved down below her ears and tunneled under the heavy weight of her hair, lifting its length from under the jacket and spreading it down the outside of the back. There was a certain sensuality in holding all that hair in his hands. It burned him like a black fire. Chase released it and stepped away to pick up a stick, snapping it in two in an effort to stop the surging rush of his white-hot senses. He crouched beside her to add the broken pieces of wood to the fire.

“How old are you, Maggie?” He used her name unconsciously, riveting his gaze to the dancing flames.

“Sixteen.” She bit her lip at the lie and admitted, “I will be in August.”

Chase turned his head to study her, a smile slanting his mouth. “Sweet sixteen and never been kissed.” There was a harsh quality to his mocking tone that didn't match the way he was looking at her.

His words caused Maggie to huddle deeper in the jacket, drawing her knees to envelop more of her legs in its hugeness. “Clyde Barnes kissed me once when we were playing in the schoolyard.”

“How old were you then?”

Her chin went a little lower and she avoided his gaze to stare at her toes. “Thirteen.” There was a defensive crispness to her answer.

“Nobody can say you aren't without experience,” he murmured with drawling roughness.

“I never said I was experienced.” She flashed him a sideways look of injured pride. “Clyde wasn't even thirteen yet.” The intensity of his gaze was more than she could hold. “I know it's different when a man kisses you.”

There was a pulsebeat of silence; then his hand was on her neck, turning her head and lifting her chin toward him. “How do you know that?”

The penetrating darkness of his gaze disturbed her in an excitingly curious way that seemed to heighten all her senses. She couldn't answer him, too captured by the wild certainty that he was going to kiss her and she was going to find out for herself if it was true that a man's kiss was different.

Slowly bending his head toward her, Chase exerted a slight pressure on her neck to pull her forward. She didn't try to draw away or resist him. Before his mouth touched her lips, he inhaled the fresh, clean smell of her—like the air after a summer rain. Its simple earthiness filled him. When his mouth settled onto her unparted lips, they remained motionless with innocence. He moved over their softness, seeking a response, and was dissatisfied when he didn't get it. Her uncertainty about what was expected from her was somehow transmitted to him.

Chase lifted his head a scant inch from her lips. “Don't hold your mouth so stiffly. Relax,” he urged in a soothing murmur. “Let your lips move against mine.”

“All right.” Her sweet breath fanned him, stirring him.

This time Maggie offered a tentative response to the pressure of his mouth. She liked that funny little curling sensation it created inside her. Under his guidance, her confidence grew and was rewarded with pleasure.

His thumb began drawing lazy circles in the sensitive hollow below her ear, arousing more senses. There was so much warmth tingling through her body that Maggie found it hard to believe that only minutes ago she'd been shivering from the cold. She was trembling, but for an entirely different reason.

When Chase ended the second kiss, her lips clung to his for a brief second. She was glad when he stayed close and didn't draw away. She stared at the masculine line of the mouth that had produced those wonderfully new sensations flooding through her. Her gaze wandered over the flaring width of his nose and the angular points of his cheekbones before being caught by the intensity of his eyes. Except for the burning vitality in his eyes, he could have been carved out of stone. Maggie was unaware that his extreme wants were holding him motionless. She became faintly puzzled by the luscious way she was feeling, wondering if it was normal.

The long, shaky breath she released was almost a sigh. “Are you supposed to feel all quivery inside when a man kisses you?” It was an artless question, prompted by a curiosity she couldn't contain.

“Not with every man—just one or two.” His voice vibrated from someplace deep within him.

By slow degrees, Maggie began moving her lips closer to the line of his mouth. The hesitation was caused by an inner sense, warning her that this was an experiment that could get out of hand, but her natural boldness carried her past the point of caution. Chase didn't make her come all the way—meeting her at a spot in between.

This time when his mouth closed over hers, she knew exactly what to do. The eagerness of her returning kiss brought an instant, and demanding, response from him. She felt she was being eaten up, consumed whole by the ravishing hunger of his kiss. The subsequent
weakness made her sway, but his free arm moved, his hand catching her shoulder to hold her steady.

He shifted his position so she didn't have to lean to reach him. The softness of her seemed boundless. Her lips yielded to the probing intrusion of his hard tongue, but her white teeth presented an irritating barrier. He withdrew. There was no need for force when instruction had already shown she was an apt pupil when properly coached.

“Open your mouth, Maggie,” he murmured against the corner of her lips.

This time there was no resistance and his tongue penetrated into the dark, secret recesses of her mouth. At first, she kept her tongue pressed tightly to the bottom of her mouth, avoiding contact with his. Gradually, she relaxed, letting her tongue touch his and curl around it until the two were wildly mating, turning Chase raw with a greater need. His arm was around her, one hand splayed between her shoulder blades, while his other hand remained on the smoothness of her neck.

The bulky jacket kept him from getting as close as he wanted, the jacket and the hands and arms beneath it, holding onto it. Frustrated and unable to control the powerful and primitive desires too long suppressed, Chase untangled his mouth from hers and sought the lobe of her ear, taking it between his teeth and nibbling at it, wanting to eat all of her and feed this insatiable appetite that consumed him. His hand glided down her throat, paving the way for his kisses and pushing aside the dusty collar of his jacket to expose the hollow of her neck and shoulder. He felt her tremble and heard a faint moaning sound. He was pleased to know he was affecting her with his caresses, drawing her into eddying currents of passion with him. Yet the embrace was too one-sided. He was doing all the holding and touching. His body craved the sensation of her caress.

“Give me your hand,” his husky voice instructed, and Maggie slipped a hand through the overlapping folds of his jacket.

He guided it to the solidness of his bare chest. Her fingers spread over the heat of his skin, muscles contracting in a quiver beneath her touch. She began a tactile exploration of his manly torso and found it more exciting to touch than to admire at a distance. Curling chest hairs softly brushed her sensitive palms; nerve ends tingled in delighted reaction. Muscles rippled in his shoulder and arm, and Maggie gloried in the contained strength beneath her fingers.

His mouth came back to claim her lips in a driving possession. The raw urgency of his kiss pushed her backward, his arm slowly lowering her to the ground. The jacket cushioned her naked flesh from the gravely bed of sand. His hand traced her arm, using it to insinuate his way inside the jacket. The sure, easy cupping of her breast in his palm made the intimacy seem so natural. Her fingers loosened their hold on the jacket. Somewhere, she lost the reason for keeping it shut. The coolness of the air against her skin only made the warmth of his touch all the more pleasurable; and it left her other hand free to double the amount of territory she could explore. Also, there wasn't anything in the way to stop him.

The firm roundness of her breasts was his undoing. If he had possessed the strength of will to stop before they went too far, Chase lost it at that moment. All he retained was the control to take it slow and make it an experience that would be as gratifying for her as it was going to be for him.

His thumb circled the rosy peak of a breast, feeling it grow hard under his stimulation. Then his mouth began a slow foray to its irresistible lure, but was sidetracked by other attractions on the way—the leaping pulse in her throat, the tantalizing hollow at the base of her
neck, and the delectable curve of a shoulder bone. Finally reaching his destination, his tongue encircled the hard button of her breast and she breathed in sharply in reaction, drawing away from him.

Chase kissed the rounded curve. “Don't be frightened,” he murmured.

Frightened. Was that what she was feeling? She was nervous, but there wasn't any fear involved. It was a sensual adventure, discovering the untapped depths of her desires. Each new touch introduced her to a whole new realm of sensation. She, who was so clear-headed, practical, and realistic, was being carried away by passion. What was more, she was enjoying every second of the dazzling journey.

Her hands glided over the bulging muscles of his arms to the back of his shoulders, silently assuring him that she wasn't afraid. A slender hand curved itself to thickly corded muscles of his neck, fingers sliding into shaggy dark hair to apply a downward pressure when his mouth opened on her breast and he took the nipple inside it. His erotic suckling caused a peculiar tightening of the muscles low in her stomach, creating a raw ache that begged to be assuaged. She writhed slightly in an attempt to ease the building pressure, tightly clenching her inner thighs together.

Aware of the signaling movement, Chase let his hand roam downward from her breast while his tongue and lips continued to give it their attention. On the slow descent, his hand caressed the curve of her waist and briefly cupped her hipbone, then paused on the quivering flatness of her lower stomach. At the slight arching of her hips against its weight, his fingers slid into the silky patch of hair and rubbed the area with a gentle firmness.

Instinctively, her hips began to move in slow, rhythmic gyrations. Sidetracking her attention, he dragged his mouth from the peak of one breast to let it climb to
the crest of the other. While he teethed the pointed crown, his massaging fingers made a more intimate search until he could feel the warm moistness of her. Soft animal sounds of pleasured torment came from her throat as she writhed and arched her hips high to further his entry. She was driven wild by the sensation.

Heat flamed through him at this totally uninhibited response. With a groan, Chase ripped his mouth from her breast to bruise her lips, separating them with the hard thrust of his tongue. His own fevered throbbing was driving him; need was screaming through his system. While one hand continued to work her until she was loose and ready, the other unbuckled his belt and unfastened his Levi's. She moaned in protest when he took his hand away to hunch out of his pants.

Wedging her legs apart with his knee, he slid himself between them, priming her again with his hand before attempting entry. Hot eagerness boiled inside him, but he beat it down, probing into her by slow degrees. When he reached the thin barrier of her virgin veil, his first attempt to pierce it brought a muffled outcry of pain. She twisted away from his mouth, pushing at his chest with her hands as she tightened her legs and hips in an attempt to force him out. Chase held himself still with an effort.