Wild Lilly (19 page)

With a huff, she flopped back into her bed, the soft flesh between her thighs aching with desire. She rubbed her legs together, pressing on her pussy and increasing the sensation. Heat flashed through her body as she remembered Paul’s lips on her flesh, combined with the recent feeling of Sleeping Bear’s warm mouth on her foot. After a few minutes, Sleeping Bear’s breath evened out, and Paul’s back remained to her. The shadows danced over the hard ridge of muscles of his shoulders, and she remembered how it felt to run her hands over all that male strength.

Slowly, she lowered her hand between her legs and through the slit in the buckskin breeches. The ache was fierce as she gazed at Paul’s back. She thought of how he moved underneath her hands, the way his tongue divided her moist flesh and sucked on her. Tentatively, she stroked a hand over her center, biting her tongue to hold back a moan. Another finger joined the first, and she explored her wet heat. Parting her thighs slightly for better access, she froze as Sleeping Bear shifted. She continued when there were no further sounds.

Eyes locked on Paul’s back, she scooted the dress higher, darting a glance over at Sleeping Bear. His eyes were closed and his breath was even. Feeling bold, she dipped a finger into her wetness beneath the blanket and spread it over her hard clit. Her eyes fluttered shut, back arching a bit as she tried to keep still. Images flashed through her mind in a heated succession. Paul squeezing her nipple, Paul licking her neck, Paul nipping her breast, and the warm light that filled Paul’s eyes when he held her close.

The pressure and ache began to build to an unbearable level. She tried to mimic the rhythm of Paul’s tongue, slick fingers moving back and forth over her flesh. She swallowed another groan, eyes shut tight as she pinched her nipple through her dress. Parting her legs wider, she sought her release, her thoughts filled with Paul. Her swollen flesh felt so hot beneath her fingers, and her blood pounded in her ears. She covered her mouth. Her breath came out in a ragged groan, her body contracting with rhythmic convulsions against her hand.

Her heart beat a rapid tempo in her ears as the waves of pleasure slowly decreased. The first thing she became aware of was a lack of any breathing other than her own rough pants. She didn’t dare move, afraid of what she suspected.

Trying to appear as if she were deep asleep, she rolled over. Paul was staring at her and stroking himself beneath his blanket. His face tightened as he saw her watching and his lips parted in a gasp. His lids half lowered and his chest and shoulders became impossibly tight as he shuddered. From her other side came a low, fluid groan in Comanche.

She hid her head underneath the blanket, mortified, but curious. She peeked out again and Paul winked at her as he rolled over and turned his back. She had to suppress a giggle. She leaned over and looked at Sleeping Bear. He was on his side, wiping off his stomach with a rag. He saw her staring and slowed his hand, trailing it down his stomach toward his manhood.

That was enough for her. She ducked back under her blanket and fell asleep, smothering her treacherous giggles against the buffalo fur.

Chapter Thirteen

Sampson and Estrella

Licking the last of the oatmeal off her spoon, Lilly darted a glance at Sleeping Bear and Paul. They watched her with an undivided attention that was getting on her nerves. She placed the spoon back into the bowl with an audible swallow, smoothing the buckskin dress over her leggings.

“Sleeping Bear, are we ready to go?” She kept her eyes on the north. They were still a three-hour ride from town.

“Yes, Lilly, we are ready.” Sleeping Bear made a point of calling her Lilly each time he spoke to her, ever since she had forbidden Paul to use her first name.

Patting Storm on his hindquarters, she blew a strand of hair off her forehead and ignored Paul’s silent offer of a hand. Turning her back on him she said, “Sleeping Bear, can you give me a leg up, please?”

She could practically feel the blast of anger from Paul wash over her like a cold wind. Sleeping Bear strode over, the early morning light catching the faint hints of red in his long hair. Her mouth went dry as he held her gaze and knelt before her, his face level with her hips. She mounted as quickly as she could, completely unsettled by the desire in those dark eyes. When Paul looked at her like that, she found herself drowning in heat. When Sleeping Bear looked at her like that, she felt uncomfortable. While she couldn’t deny Sleeping Bear’s good looks or natural charisma, he just didn’t evoke the same feelings in her heart that Paul did. Obviously her heart had bad taste in men.

Her scandalous behavior didn’t change her feelings for Paul. She was still mad as hell at him. He pulled his horse next to hers, but she urged Storm ahead, leaving him behind. Her heart hurt to look at him, and she had no idea how she was going to handle being back in Caldwell with him.

Maybe she should just sell her land and go back to Connecticut.

No, she wasn’t going to give up on her dreams because of one man. If worst came to worst, she would live out at the trade post and teach at the school there. Then she could continue to live in this beautiful land without the memory of Paul haunting her. Not to mention she’d be far away from Lee Krisp and his men. The thought of Hank’s stench as he ripped her from Storm’s back sent a shudder of fear through her. Images of all the horrible things they could have done to her tried to invade her thoughts, but she pushed them away and concentrated on Paul’s back as he rode in front of her. Oddly enough, just looking at him made her feel safe.

Sleeping Bear rode next to her. He wore a pair of indigo-blue chambray pants and a cardinal-red button down shirt with a brown leather vest. His hair fell in a thick sheaf over his shoulders, and small decorative braid hung down his back. He presented an even bigger problem. Lilly was responsible for him now, as odd as that seemed. He had left his tribe to help her get the trading post started, and she owed him.

While he was amazingly handsome and kind, he wasn’t Paul. It wouldn’t be fair to lead him on when she didn’t intend to return his affection in a way he deserved.

“Sleeping Bear,” she turned and kept her voice low. “I want to thank you for coming with me. I will do everything I can to make your stay as easy as possible. But, I do not have the same feelings for you that you have for me.”

He rode next to her in silence, the prairie slowly fading into trees as the sun rose higher in the sky. “I know your heart belongs to Paul.” He gave her a searching look. “Given time, I believe I could change that.”

She fiddled with Storm’s reins. “I don’t think so.” She sneaked a peek at him. He was staring straight ahead. “Besides, don’t you need to find the pale-eyed woman that is going to save you?’

He smiled slightly, a breeze blowing back his long hair. “I do, and she needs me. If you will not have me in your heart, can we at least share a bed?”

Her jaw dropped as she stared at him. “I...uh...I don’t think....”

He gave her a devilish grin. “You don’t intend on making me sleep on the floor of your cottage, do you?” He reached across and gently closed her mouth with a finger. “Just consider it, Lilly. I would love to have you make the noises you did last night from underneath me.”

Heat flooded her face as embarrassment made her palms sweat. Jerking Storm’s reins, she pulled back and let him ride ahead while she tried to banish his wicked words from her mind.

***

They arrived at Paul’s ranch first. A loud whoop echoed from the stables as they came up the road to the front of the compound. Owen and Mark ran out, their hats flying off their heads while they yelled and whistled.

Mark reached them first and grabbed Storm’s reins. “Miss Brooks, you look like an Indian!”

Owen yelled, “Paul!” The look of relief on his face made a lump rise in her throat.

They all dismounted, and she groaned as her sore legs had to support her weight. She was unprepared for Mark lifting her up and twirling her around in a circle. “Miss Brooks, we were so worried about you. Are you all right? What’s on the sled? Who’s the Indian with you? He sure is big. Where’d you get that dress?”

She laughed and thumped him on his shoulder. At sixteen, he was almost as big as Paul. “Put me down, you oversized puppy.”

Mark lowered her to the ground as Rufus came running out of the main house. “Paul! We were about to come looking for you! What happened?”

Paul looked up from hugging Owen and reached out to grab Rufus in a back-smacking embrace. She glanced over at Sleeping Bear. He watched all of this with an impassive face. Feeling bad for him, she moved to his side. She knew what it felt like to be the stranger in a new place.

“We have some news for you Rufus, but let’s get inside first. Miss Brooks has been through a lot.” Paul did not look at her as he spoke.

Sleeping Bear gave her a hand as she hauled herself back into Storm’s saddle. “I am afraid I’ll have to speak with you later, Rufus. I need to change my clothes and check on my property. Thank you for taking care of the horses while I was gone.”

Paul looked over at her, his eyes full of hurt, before he turned his back again.

“Miss Brooks, please stay,” Owen begged, patting Storm’s neck.

“I’ll see you soon, Owen.”

She quickly turned Storm and headed for home. The sound of pounding hooves came up behind her and her breath caught it her throat as she spun in her saddle. It was Sleeping Bear.

Disappointment stung her wounded heart even though she wasn’t surprised Paul didn’t come after her. She’d made it plain enough in every way she could that their relationship was over. It didn’t help that her heart ached like a wound in her chest.

“I’m coming with you. If what Paul said is true, Lee Krisp could have more of his men waiting for you at your cabin.”

“Oh, I didn’t even think of that. Thank you.” With Paul dominating every thought, she had forgotten about Krisp. Cursing her heart, she pushed Paul out of her mind and concentrated on the very real threat Mr. Krisp brought to bear.

They rode in silence, following the wheel ruts to her property.

Turning to watch her, he said, “Paul must be proud to have such strong and healthy sons.”

“Owen and Mark aren’t his sons, they’re his brothers. Their parents died in a stage coach robbery three years ago. Paul is raising them now.”

“The young one, he seems very fond of you.”

She smiled, and then her heart sank again. The only time she would see Owen and Mark in the future was at school. If Paul continued to let them attend. “Yes, Owen is fond of me.”

The road curved around the bend, and she saw her house, surrounded by walnut trees, in the distance. Her shoulders eased a bit. It was amazing how quickly this had become home. “There it is. My log cabin.” A wagon sat next to the corral, and her linens were flapping in the breeze.

“Whose wagon is that?’

“I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure whoever it is, they don’t mean harm. Most people don’t wash your sheets for you before they kill you.”

He chuckled, but urged his horse in front of hers. They rode along the side of the cabin, but there was no sign of anyone. She felt a rill of fear creep up her spine when they rounded the side of the porch. Nothing moved in the yard, other than Sage in her corral. The front door stood wide open.

A long, mournful howl filled the air. It took her a moment to identify the haunting sound. Her first thought had been of a ghost wailing in torment. The sound broke the calm air again, and this time the despondent sound was followed by a girl shouting, “Oh, stop complaining already, Sampson. You smell!”

She dismounted and motioned for Sleeping Bear to be quiet. They sneaked down to the creek and she had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing. Maggie stood in the water, up to her elbows in suds, and a very unhappy Sampson tried to wriggle out of her grasp with a mournful expression on his droopy face.

“I don’t think there’s enough soap in the world for that dog not to stink,” Lilly teased with a smirk.

“Miss Brooks!” Maggie shouted in delight. When Sampson lunged away and shook soap all over her before running down the creek, she uttered a curse young ladies weren’t supposed to know. “Stupid dog!” Maggie shook a bubble-covered fist at his retreating figure.

Lilly grabbed her sides and laughed until tears ran down her cheeks. “I thought that was my nickname for him. What are you doing here, Maggie?”

“Mr. McGregor’s housekeeper told my mother what had happened. I didn’t want you to come back to a dirty house, so I came one day early to clean.” Maggie kept casting glances at Sleeping Bear, who stood quietly behind Lilly. “Sampson must have spent the night on your bed, ’cause your pillows and sheets were covered in mud and dog fur. I washed them the best I could, but your mattress is going to need to air out. I think he got sprayed by a skunk.”

Lilly groaned, then yelled. “You better run, you stupid dog. If I catch you, I’m going to skin you and make a dress.”

Sleeping Bear coughed behind her and Lilly gave him an impish grin. “Sleeping Bear, may I present Miss Margaret Smith? She’s a student of mine and the mayor’s eldest daughter. Margaret, please meet Sleeping Bear of the Comanche Tribe. He is the son of Cold Moon and my esteemed friend.”

“I am pleased to meet you, Miss Margaret Smith.” Sleeping Bear rumbled.