Promises Linger (Promise #1)

Chapter Nineteen

She felt like an intruder entering the office. Elizabeth hesitated, called herself a fool, and crossed the threshold. Book work needed to be done. Just because Asa had been much more eager to stay in bed since that afternoon two days ago, didn’t mean the rest of their problems had disappeared. As depressing as it would be, she needed to see exactly where the ranch was financially. And that meant she had to not only step one foot past the door, she had to go all the way into the room, seat herself at the desk, and finish what needed to be done.

As she opened the drapes on her way to the desk, she looked around. It was distinctly male terrain. It was all so familiar; the dark paneling, the ink-splattered leather blotter, the heavy desk, the big chair stationed so impressively behind it. First her father’s and now her husband’s, the study was a room designed to reflect power. She waited for the feeling of suffocation to swamp her as it usually did. She stared at the desk a good two minutes before she realized it wasn’t happening and why.

For the first time since she could remember, she didn’t see, in her mind, her father sitting in that big chair, a frown on his face, eager to hand out the list of today’s failures. Instead, she saw Asa’s image, half-smiling, patiently waiting while she stumbled through an explanation. Never rushing, never hurrying, simply waiting her out. The man was truly a magician. She didn’t think anyone could dispel her unease with this room, but he seemed to have done it.

She trailed her fingers over the desk. It was tan, smoothed by age and hard. Just like Asa. As she flipped open the ledger, she looked around the room with new eyes. Instead of seeing the past, she saw its potential. With some redecorating, the office could actually be a pleasant place. Maybe even pleasant enough that she’d consider seducing her husband here. Creating some nice memories would go a long way to shedding the old.

She shook her head over her licentious thoughts. She was turning into a scandal all right. She settled into the big wing-backed chair behind the desk. She closed her eyes and breathed in the scents of leather, man and ink.

She flipped open the ledger on the desk and ran her fingers down the entries. She was so lost in thought, she didn’t immediately recognize what she saw. When she did, she saw red. Not only was her husband the sexiest man in the territory, he was also one of the most conniving sons of a bitch she’d ever met.

A squeak of the wood floor jerked her eyes from the books. Asa stood in the door. Pale but resigned.

“You son of a bitch,” she said.

“You know?”

“Were you ever planning on telling me?”

“Not if I could help it,” he admitted.

“You lied to me.” She thought the pain would split her open like a ripe melon.

“I never lied to you.”

“You didn’t tell me we’re going to lose the ranch.”

“We’re not losing the ranch.”

“You didn’t tell me the bank didn’t extend our note.”

“I didn’t want to worry you.”

She sat as still as stone, feeling like she’d break apart inside. “You didn’t trust me.”

“Dammit, Elizabeth, you knew we were close to bankruptcy. That’s why you married me.”

“You said we were partners.”

“We are.”

“No, we’re not.” They could never be equals if he could keep something like this from her. “We’re nothing more than a man and his paramour.”

“If you don’t want your mouth washed out with soap, you’d better be watching your language.”

She looked at him. God, did he think he could scare her now? “Don’t you try and threaten me.”

“I never make threats.”

“No,” she agreed. “You don’t need to. You just spin fairy tales out of half-truths, and then, when you’re caught, you claim you never lied.” She stood slowly. Carefully. Not much of her dignity remained, but she was going to hold onto what she had left. She crossed the room until she was only two feet away from him. She tilted her head back until she could look into his eyes. Eyes that were storm gray, reflecting a determination she felt pulsing in her own veins.

“You had me,” she told him. “You had me cold. I believed everything you said and did. I thought you liked me as I am. I thought—God help me for my stupidity— that you respected me.” A hoarse laugh escaped before she could smother it. “My father was right. I am a fool.”

“Your father didn’t know squat.”

“He knew enough to know that a man would use my weakness against me.”

Asa crossed his arms over his chest. His splayed feet and broad shoulders blocked the doorway. His message was as clear as the anger on his face. She wasn’t going anywhere until he had his say. She settled her weight evenly between her feet and forced her arms to relax at her side. Two could play this game.

“Sure enough,” Asa said, “your father got you twisted up inside. To the point you’d marry two complete strangers to hold onto a piece of land you’d be better off selling and living off the proceeds, but you wouldn’t do that.”

“I made a promise.”

“Yeah. The kind of promise that lingers. The kind bound up tight with guilt and failure.” Her surprise must have shone through because he nodded his head. “Yeah. I’ve made a few of those myself. Back when I was a kid, lying in the alley, bloody from a beating, whining because no one ever told me ‘Welcome home.’ I made a promise to whatever God was listening, told him that, if he could see his way to getting me a home, a lady and a bit of respect to go with it, I’d do what I had to not to let him down in the meantime. I never thought anyone was listening, but then you came along and that promise was dropped in my lap.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Yeah, I know. You’re so busy tarring me with your father’s brush, you can’t credit me with common decency.”

She crossed her arms against her chest. “Now you’re saying it’s decent to lie?”

He snorted. “I’m saying I never thought you’d ride this mustang through to the finish, but I expected better than this.”

“You thought I’d be so bowled over by what you make me feel in bed that I’d overlook your highhandedness?”

He pushed away from the doorjamb. “I expected you to understand that I was trying to spare you this worry on top of all the others you’d taken on.”

“You didn’t think I’d want to know?”

“What difference would it have made?” he asked, pinning her with the truth. “What would you have done differently than I did?”

He waited, clearly expecting an answer, but she didn’t have one. She didn’t know what she would have done differently. She didn’t even know what she was mad about. She just knew. “You should have told me.”

“So you said.” He motioned to the books. “I’ve got to see a man about a contract. You have a good look at the books, and when I get back, you can give me an earful about how else I’ve let you down.”

He spun on his heel. While she’d never seen the man do more than amble, today he stalked to the front door. Granted, he favored his right side due to his half-healed ribs, but he was the absolute picture of male outrage. Lord knows, she’d seen it enough to recognize it.

Something she didn’t initially recognize then registered as guilt pricked her conscience. How had she ended up the guilty one? The front door slammed. She crossed to the window and watched as Asa stormed toward the barn. The stupid man hadn’t even put on a coat. He got to the big oak in back and stopped, leaning against it for support.

She thought maybe his ribs were screaming, but then his shoulders, those broad shoulders she’d never seen anyway but squared, drooped. His head bowed. He took off his hat. She couldn’t see exactly what he was doing, but she’d seen him run his hand down his face enough times to recognize the gesture for what it was. Pain.

Unease tore her insides. The prickle of guilt developed claws. She’d hurt him. She’d honestly hurt the man. Oh God, more than she didn’t want the ability for him to hurt her, she didn’t want to be able to hurt him. Dammit! This was all his fault. If he’d trusted her. If he’d only told her the whole truth, she could have understood. She would have been fine. They could have faced it together.

But this was… She sighed as he pushed away from the tree. This was… She stopped and admitted the truth. This was totally in character for the man.

Come here.

How many times had he said that to her and then offered his shoulder as comfort? How many times, in their brief acquaintance, had he stepped between her and something he felt was a threat? Brent. Aaron. Millicent. He had shoulders as broad as the mountains that guarded her home. Since the day they’d met, he’d done nothing but use them to shield her. Heck, he scooped up problems and discarded them the way other men picked up stones. So why had she expected him to act any different when it came to bad news? He’d been upfront from the beginning that he thought ladies needed tender touches and gentle handling. Keeping bad news from her was nothing more than another protective gesture.

She bit her lip as he disappeared into the barn. No doubt he intended to ride Shameless to the railroad to get the contract. The ride would kill his ribs. Clint could handle the asking, but this was too important to the ranch for Asa to risk it to anyone else. He’d made her a promise. He clearly intended to keep it.

I never expected you to ride this mustang through to the finish.

What had he meant by that? He couldn’t mean he hadn’t expected her to keep to her end of their agreement. That didn’t make any sense. They were married. Something like that couldn’t just be set aside. She watched as Shameless trotted out of the barn, Asa on his back. She held her breath waiting—no, hoping—for a glance, but, without so much as a turn of his head, Asa rode out. She let the curtain drop back into place.

Oh Lord, she didn’t know what to feel inside. She was mad, confused and guilty. The ledger, lying open on the desk, beckoned. Maybe she’d find the road out of this mess in there. Maybe, when Asa got home, they could talk. If they couldn’t put this misunderstanding behind them, she could at least apologize. She crossed to the desk, sighed, flopped down in the chair and spun the ledger toward her. Son of a bitch, she was a fool.

* * * * *

Asa pulled up Shameless in front of the house just as dusk was falling. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d felt worse. And not because his ribs were screaming. That he could live with. The knowledge that he was failing Elizabeth, that was a whole different animal altogether. A big-clawed, ugly-toothed monster he couldn’t beat back.

Someone had gotten to the railroad. There was no earthly reason why they couldn’t take the cattle two weeks early. No reason for them to have changed their minds from yesterday to today, but they had. Irrefutably. No amount of reasoning or threats would change it. Lord above, he’d tried everything in his considerable repertoire. Shameless pawed the ground, anxious to get to the barn. Asa reined him in. He looked up at the mountains looming beyond the house.

“If y’all are planning to do some guarding, this would be the time to do it.”

The only answer he got was a storm cloud cresting the peak. It wasn’t a comforting sight. He looked around the ranch. It was a damned nice lay. He could understand the desperation Elizabeth’s pa had felt to hold onto it. He could never agree with what he’d done to Elizabeth. For that, he’d like to shoot him on sight, but he could understand what drove him. The same desperation festered in his own innards. Not for the land, though. He wouldn’t kill a man for land. He looked to the house where the lights burned bright and beckoning. For the loss of Elizabeth, he’d kill twenty men. That kind of pain was going to take some getting used to. Probably a lifetime.

She was never going to forgive him for not holding the ranch. She saw him as a hero, someone who could beat all the odds. Only this time, the deck was stacked against him. This time, he wasn’t going to pull it off. And when she learned the truth of it, she’d leave him eating her dust so fast, he’d be choking for a month of Sundays. He nudged Shameless into the barn. It had been sweet while it lasted, though. Mighty sweet.

He settled Shameless, then stood in the barn door and braced himself for the tongue-lashing awaiting him at the house. He deserved every angry word. He should have seen this coming earlier and taken more aggressive steps to halt it. Hunching his shoulders against the cold encroachment of night, he made his way to the kitchen door. Rich scents of dinner swept his way on an errant breeze. His stomach growled and his mouth watered. Damned, he was going to miss eating regular, too.

As soon as his boot hit the top step, the back door opened. He suppressed a groan. He’d been hoping she’d spend the evening avoiding him. He wasn’t in the mood for another argument. He should have known better. Elizabeth had a penchant for facing life head on.

“You’ve got to be freezing.”

As first words went, those weren’t the ones he thought he’d be hearing.

“I’m fine.”

Her hand went to his upper arm. “Come on in.”

He eyed her warily as he crossed the threshold. Like she’d done every day for the last six weeks, she took his hat and set it on the hook on the wall.

“Thank you.” What else could he say in the face of this concern that didn’t make sense?

“Supper’s ready. I hope you like chicken fricassee.”

He sat in the chair, but not before checking it unobtrusively to see if the legs were sabotaged. It was as solid as a rock. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

She placed a mouth-watering concoction in front of him. Two seconds later, she served herself. He’d watched her serve both, so that left out poisoning.

He applied himself to his meal like it was his last, ‘cause, sure as shooting, it was. He was halfway through his plate when he realized she was eating, too. Not picking at her food like he expected, seeing as the way they’d parted, but actually eating. And with enjoyment. He was so shocked, he stared.

She noticed. “Is something wrong?”

Not one for beating around the bush, he said, “You’re eating.”

“It’s supper time.”

“You never eat when you’re upset.”

“That’s true.”

“When I left here this afternoon, you were mad enough to have target practice with my heart.”

She took a delicate bite of chicken stew. Washed it down with some milk, and then took a bite of biscuit. He watched her. His gaze lingered on her lips. A predictable response started trickling through his body. Damn! The woman could heat his blood just by eating.

She ran her tongue over her lips, scooping crumbs and butter as she went. The trickle of desire roared into a flood. He dragged his gaze from her lips and found her staring at him. In her eyes, there was humor, knowledge, and something softer he couldn’t name. When she finally deigned to answer him, her response cleared up nothing. “I admit I was mad this morning, but you’re overreacting. I was thinking more along the lines of buckshot in your posterior.”

God help him, he could picture it—her with a shotgun and him with a stinging butt. “Buckshot, huh?”

“I wanted to make a dent in your arrogance.”

“And you figure I keep my arrogance in my hindquarters?”

She shrugged. “It seemed as likely a spot as any.”

“I’m going to miss your sense of humor, darlin’.”

“You’re admitting I have one, finally?”

“I’ve always known you have one. It’s just been a darn shame the care you have of it.”

She answered his smile with a sigh. “I admit I wasn’t the best of wives for a while.”

“You came along just fine,” he answered, as serious as she was.

“I was thinking while you were gone.”

“That when you came up with the buckshot plan?”

She shook her head and motioned for him to eat. “No. That’s when I realized how unreasonable I’ve been.”

“You, darlin’?”

“Don’t go teasing, Asa.”

“I am serious here.”

“No, you’re not. You’re in a strange mood, but I’m hoping you’ll be back to your old self by the time we finish our conversation.”

“Must have been some understanding you came to.”

She shrugged. She didn’t speak, just waited. From the way her eyes were glued to his plate, he figured she was waiting on him to eat. He took a bite. As if on cue, she started talking. “Ever since we married, you’ve been taking care of me.”

He shrugged, hampered to do more by a mouthful of food.

She didn’t seem to mind his lack of response. “After I got over my mad this morning, I started thinking on what kind of man you are.” She patted his hand. “You’re a taking-care-of man. You handle everything by yourself. You always have. It was unreasonable of me to expect that, just because we’re married, you’d automatically understand you no longer have to do things on your own.”

“I don’t?”

“No,” she said gently, as if she thought this was going to hurt. “I blame it on a lack of family life that you don’t know you’re supposed to treat your wife like a partner rather than a child.”

“And your family taught you this?”

She shook her head “No. Millie and Doc did.”

“And I need to follow their example?”

She nodded earnestly. “Yes.”

And she thought he was in a strange mood. She sat there across from him, looking as delicate as a flower in a white lacy-necked blouse tucked into a blue serge skirt, and she didn’t want him to protect her? The woman was clearly out of her mind.

“You spent all morning thinking on this?”

“Yes.” This time, after she patted his hand, she ended the motion by curling her fingers around his. “We can do this, Asa.”

He stared into her earnest face. Her beautiful green eyes framed by their sooty lashes glowed like gems in the lamplight. She was the most beautiful thing in the world, and, for a few precious weeks in his life, she’d shown him heaven, but she was looking for a hero. God, he hated to be the one to break the news to her. “You were right when you said there aren’t any heroes.”

She looked confused.

He pulled his hand from hers before she could do the rejecting. “I promised you I was going to save this ranch, Elizabeth, and I aim to do it.”

“I know you will.”

He pushed his plate away, his dinner half-eaten. “This isn’t one of your books, Elizabeth. You’ll keep the ranch, but it won’t be clean or pretty. There are going to be sacrifices.”

She frowned at his plate, then at him. “I told you, Asa. I’m not a child. I understand responsibility and sacrifice.”

“Even if your pal Aaron is one of those sacrifices?”

She sat back in her chair, guard up. “What are you talking about?”

“In order to save your ranch, I’m going to take Aaron down.”

“What does Aaron have to do with anything?”

“He’s the one who’s been driving the Rocking C into the ground.”

She bristled immediately. “That’s absurd. Aaron is my friend.”

“I know you see it that way, but, as I mentioned before, with friends like him, you don’t need to be hunting up enemies.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Darlin’, the one thing I know is that, if you’re counting Aaron as a friend, you’d best start packing something against snakebite.”

“You don’t know him as well as I do.”

“I know him well enough.”

Her hands balled into fists. Her voice dropped from warm to icy politeness. “I know you’ve always been jealous of our closeness, but you’re going too far.”

Her withdrawal struck him like a slap. He shook his head. “Got to disagree with you there. I’m saving that for tomorrow.”

Fact was, he was saving a lot for tomorrow. Including his goodbyes, because, sure as hell, when he called out Aaron for his back-stabbing, Elizabeth wasn’t going to waste a lot of time sending her husband packing.

She interrupted his thoughts. “I know from your notes in the books that you suspect someone of sabotaging the Rocking C.”

And she wanted him to tell her he didn’t suspect Aaron. He ran his hands through his hair. “There’s no sense dancing around the subject. Aaron’s the one behind the Rocking C’s troubles.”

“My father made some mistakes…?” Her hands disappeared from the tabletop. He assumed from the way her spine was razor-back sharp, she was clutching her fingers in her lap. “Number one being taking Aaron on as a partner?” she asked, and then went on before he could answer. “Do you have proof?”

She looked at him. It was clear in her eyes she was hoping against hope that she wasn’t going to lose another dream to reality. He swore long and hard. Why did he have to be the messenger? Why couldn’t her father have had the brains God gave a rock, and seen Aaron for the snake in the grass he was?

“Nothing the law would cozy up to,” he hedged.

“Which means you don’t have proof.”

Christ, he could feel the knots that bound them together unraveling. The small part of him that hoped she’d believe him, despite her lifetime belief in Aaron, started to die. “I’ve got the facts. Whether they’ll hold up in a court of law isn’t the point.”

“It is to me.”

“Yeah. I figured that.”

“What are these facts?”

“First off, Aaron’s set to lose everything without the water rights you grant him.”

“So? He knows those aren’t in danger.”

“He set you up to lose the ranch by furthering that bank note when any prudent advice would be to hold tight while you were solvent.”

“I don’t agree.”

The last drop of hope in him died. “No shock there.” Wanting this over, he pushed on. Words fell over words as he let the explanation spew forth. “Then this fancy pants Brent comes along. Man goes out of his way to hunt you up and, from what Old Sam says, seemed to know exactly what to say to you to make you tumble like an old stack of hay.”

“I was stupid.”

“You were set up.”

“Who says?”

“I do, and so do the men.”

“What do you know?”

“More than you, apparently, because there was no danger of you losing the ranch until you married me.” He shot her an amused glance. “Appears you spiked their guns when you took matters into your own hands. The way Cougar and I figure it, they couldn’t be sure I’d continue to allow the water, so they had to drive it under.”

“They called in the note.” Desperation entered her voice.

“Yeah. They delivered the news when you and I were in town that day. And guess who was walking out of the office right before I walked in?”

“Aaron, but that’s not surprising. It is the only bank in town.”

“It’s mighty strange that, a week before, they were willing to extend the note until spring with my savings against the balance. But, when I brought the money in, all I could manage was one month.”

“That doesn’t mean Aaron had anything to do with it.”

“No, it doesn’t, but it does point a finger that way.”

“But Aaron—”

He didn’t want to hear her defend good old Aaron. He cut her off. “As soon as it looked like I was going to get the cattle rounded up for the railroad deal, I got bushwhacked.”

“That could have been anyone.”

“Except that foreman of Aaron’s was there when I made the deal.”

“It’s still supposition.”

Asa threw his napkin on the table. “Yeah. Just like today, when I went to deliver the cattle a week early, and I find the railroad is wary of taking them. Seems a rumor’s been spread that the reason I want to bring them in early is because they’re sick and I want to unload them before it becomes obvious.”

Her rigid posture collapsed. “Oh, no.”

“Yeah. Oh, no.”

“What are we going to do?”

They weren’t doing anything. “Tomorrow, I’m going into town and settle this.”

She caught his arm as he was trying to pass. “You’re not going to do anything foolish, are you?”

“Depends on what your definition of foolish is.”

“Asa…” All the uncertainty in the world rested in her gaze. He felt her lack of faith like a blow. Not because he expected her to believe in him blindly, but because she’d believed in him at all. He’d been a fool reaching for rainbows. He’d had no business taking her with him.

“I’m sorry, Elizabeth. I should have negotiated a sale for you.”

She looked at him, confused. “That wasn’t part of our deal.”

“It should have been. One look at the books and I should have done the right thing.”

She stood. Her hands on his chest prevented his leaving. “You did what I wanted.”

“Yeah, that’s the hell of it. I used what you wanted to lasso a dream.”

“Asa.”

He stepped back. “You were right to distrust me.”

She stared at him for a brief moment, leaving him feeling like he hung over a cliff with nothing to break his fall. “No. I don’t think so.”

He shrugged, facing the inevitable. “You will tomorrow.”

“Because you’re going to confront Aaron?”

“Yes.” She wouldn’t be safe until the man was out of the picture. By the time she realized it, he’d be gone.

“Asa, I don’t believe Aaron would betray me like you say, but I agree it looks bad.”

“Uh-huh.”

The breath she took was audible. “I want to be there tomorrow.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not safe.”

“Even if you thought Aaron would hurt me, which he won’t, what do you think is going to happen with people all around?”

“I don’t want you there.”

“Tough.”

She caught his arm before he could slip out the door. “I’m going to be there.”

“I’m not arguing with you.”

She didn’t seem put off by the finality in his tone. “You can be a bear, Asa MacIntyre.”

“You’re not the first to tell me that.”

Angling out the door, Asa heard her footsteps behind him as he headed up the stairs. The woman was as tenacious as a badger. He paused outside their bedroom door. Somehow, it seemed wrong to sleep with his wife when he knew she’d be kicking his sorry butt out the door in the morning. Two heel clicks and he knew she was right behind him. Asa could smell her scent—woman, vanilla, and a touch of something he had never figured out—as he wrenched open the door to their room. To hell with the right thing. Asa wanted one last night. He’d be paying the rest of his life anyway, what was one more infraction? She wanted a hero? Give him a feather tick and he could be all the hero she needed. It was outside the bedroom he was having trouble.

She was right behind him as he entered the room. No doubt high on indignation. A smile tugged. Sometimes the woman didn’t know when to quit.

He turned and scooped her into his arms when her momentum would have caused her to shoot on past. “There’s a point when you ought to pull back and regroup.”

There was nothing of the turbulence he expected to see on her face. Just a bone-deep satisfaction that softened the edge of her determined smile. “Why?”

Now there was a question he didn’t want to answer. “Because, sometimes, it helps you to see things clearer.”

She looped her arms around his neck. “And here I thought you were going to pout.”

“Men don’t pout.” They pounded walls, or even took advantage of sweet, misguided women, but they never pouted.

“I’m glad to hear it.” She snuggled closer. “Everything’s going to be fine, Asa. When you talk to Aaron, you’ll see.”

“And if I don’t?”

He felt her shrug all the way up his body. “It’ll still be fine.”

He wished he could be so sure. His body reacted predictably to the closeness of hers. His hands, instead of putting some distance between them like he told them to, encouraged her to arch so her hips matched his better. He really was sinking to an all-time low. He hummed as she snuggled closer. “You got something on your mind?”

“I thought a little distraction might be in order.”

Damn. When had she learned to purr like that?

“Distraction?” he asked. He tried to revive his honor, but, as fast as she was slipping buttons through the holes on his shirt and undershirt, he didn’t think honor stood a chance. Elizabeth could be mighty determined.

“All right, not a distraction.” She sighed in satisfaction as she spread his shirt and long johns off his shoulders. “More of a reminder.”

“Reminder?” That hoarse croak wasn’t much of a deterrent, but damn, she was a quick study when it came to pleasing him.

“Yes,” she answered, her voice strong and confident. “You’re in a strange mood. I don’t like it.”

“You figured seducing me would fix that?”

“Maybe.” She smiled a witchy smile that sent his blood surging through his veins. “But it will surely remind you where you belong.”

As if he needed reminding. He stroked her hair. Her bun slipped to the side. He undid a few of the hairpins as she pressed her lips dead center on his chest. Her hair tumbled down. Her tongue touched his flesh. His breath hissed between his teeth. He dropped his good intentions like a hot potato. “I should be reminding you that things don’t always work out like we plan.”

She kissed her way to his navel. “But?”

“But I’ve never been that long on honor.”

“Uh-huh.” She dipped her tongue into his belly button. His stomach jerked inward.

“Hey! That tickles.”

She grinned. He could feel her lips stretch across his stomach. “Sorry.”

“You don’t sound sorry.” His hands, in direct contradiction to his words, were urging her to do it again.

“If you promise to be quiet, I’ll apologize.”

Her lips wandered further south.

“If you’re planning on what I think,” he croaked, “you’d best save your apologizing until I get a wall at my back.”

She shook her head emphatically. Her fingers worked the buttons on his denims. “You’re just going to have to stand tall, Mr. MacIntyre.”

The last button popped free. With a move he had no idea she knew, she slid his pants down his thighs. Her breath brushed his straining cock through his long johns, setting fires raging. “Because I’m not giving up until I get what I want.”

God help him, she sounded as stubbornly petulant as a kid refusing to leave a candy store. “I wouldn’t want to deprive you of something you like,” he countered.

Letting go of her hair, he unfastened the buttons on his long johns. He wished he could see her expression, but she was staring hard at his hands, her hands on her thighs, her fingertips twitching as if she wanted to be doing the job.

When he had the last button on his fly free, he cupped the back of her head in his hand. With the other, he eased his painfully hard cock into the light.

“Oh, my goodness.”

He hoped that note in her voice was awe. With steady pressure, he urged her forward. Her breath reached him first. Warm and moist, it blew over the sensitive head in a sensual caress. The vertebrae in her neck were a delicate ladder beneath his fingers. The flesh under her chin, soft as down as he applied pressure, tilting her head back.

The look she sent him was questioning.

“I want to see,” he explained. From this angle, he wouldn’t miss a thing.

“How do I do this right?”

He couldn’t believe she was turning shy after taking the bull by the horns. “I don’t think you can do this wrong.”

She sat back on her heels. “You don’t think?”

“I’m as green at this as you.”

Her small smile told him that pleased her to no end. “Do you like it when I touch you?”

“He’d be mighty grateful.”

She ran two fingers down his shaft, stopping when they collided with his fingers.

“He?”

He shrugged. “Nothing that ugly could be female.”

“Oh, he’s not ugly.” She stroked him again, her voice as soft as her touch. A featherlight caress that had him gritting his teeth. She paused again when she reached his hand. “Does he have a name?”

He slid his hand over hers, showing her he liked a bit more pressure. “Johnny.”

“Why Johnny?”

“Cause when I was of an age to be naming things, he had a tendency to be always jumping up.”

He couldn’t believe how good her laugh felt against his skin.

She leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on the tip of his cock. “Hello, Johnny.”

He shuddered as fire shot down his shaft and spread like a conflagration up his spine. Sheer pleasure drew his balls tight.

The smile she gave him left him in no doubt that she knew what she was doing to him. A drop of pre-come beaded the tip of his penis.

Elizabeth eyed it speculatively. “You liked that.”

“Yeah.”

His reward was a squeeze of her hand. “I could do it again.”

He had to struggle to find his voice. When he found the words, they came out as more growl than drawl. “We’d be obliged.”

This time, the kiss wasn’t so chaste. This time, she used her tongue, sweeping it around the swollen crest, lapping up all the creamy moisture she found there. When she pulled back, her expression was considering.

Though he knew he might regret it, he had to ask, “What?”

“You taste good.” She ran her tongue over her lips as if searching for more. The expressions that crossed her face traveled the distance from surprise to interest.

It was the interest that had him throbbing in her hand.

Shit! She was going to kill him for sure.

“What else would you like?” she asked.

Now, that was a loaded question. Another bead of come appeared on the head of his penis. As much as he loved the feel of her tongue lapping him with the delicacy of a cat, he had another fantasy he’d like played out.

When she would have leaned forward, he forestalled her. “Wait.”

He didn’t answer the question in her eyes with words. Using his hands on her shoulders to keep her still, he leaned forward until the tip of his penis brushed her lips. When she would have parted them. He shook his head. “Just stay still.”

Using the lush curves as a guide, and using only the tip of his cock as a brush, he painted her pouting lips with his pre-come, taking great care to cover every inch of that exotic mouth with his essence. All the while, she watched his expression with those big, unfathomable eyes. When he was done, her lips glistened and her breath came in short pants.

Lord above, she was a gorgeous sight with his come on her lips, her hair curling about her face and her dress buttoned prim and proper to her chin. And selfish bastard that he was, he wanted more.

“Unbutton your dress,” he ordered.

She cast a quick glance at the window.

“No one can see,” he assured her. “I want to see your breasts while I fuck your face.” Leaning forward, he smoothed another drop on her generous lips.

The sensation was exquisite. Like fire encased in luxurious silk. He only lasted until her fingers got the fifth button free before he pushed forward. There was an awkward bump on her teeth as she struggled to open wide enough to admit his cock, and then he was buried in the molten heat of her mouth.

He closed his eyes against the need to pump hard and deep and moaned, “God, darlin’, your mouth feels good.”

Her hands settled to the backs of his thighs. She flicked him with her tongue, by accident or design, he didn’t know. His body didn’t care. His knees went week. His palms fell flat back against the wall. He braced his weight on his forearms while she suckled his cock.

He tried to hold still, to let her adjust to his size and presence, but the soft swirls of her tongue over his sensitive flesh had his balls on fire. He had to move.

His sudden surge into her mouth caught Elizabeth by surprise. One moment she was pleasantly sucking on the tip of his cock, and the next, she was struggling to breathe as his huge cock forced her jaws wide and hit the back of her throat. She gagged. He groaned, pushed deeper, and then withdrew. He pulled back until his cock pulsed against the inner lining of her lips.

“You okay?”

She took a breath through her nose and nodded.

Before she finished the gesture, he pushed forward again. She tried to slow his progress, but the power of his hips slid his cock inexorably deeper until he once again hit the back of her throat. This time, she was better prepared. She struggled not to gag. As he held his cock there, she rolled her tongue over the smooth, salty skin. Her lips tingled where he’d brushed them. Her pussy burned and moistened. Her breasts ached.

Almost helplessly, she felt him move. Her jaws ached to take this much of him, but she wanted more. She wanted all of him. She dug her fingers into the back of his thighs and pulled him toward her.

“You want more?” The question came from above her head.

With her mouth stuffed full of his cock, she couldn’t speak or nod. But she could entreat with her eyes.

One big hand swung around to cup her taut cheek. His thumb traced the corner of her mouth. Tiny nerve endings she didn’t know she had shivered with delight. Her eyes closed. Her pussy flooded with creamy moisture. She clenched her thighs to control the throbbing between them.

“I don’t know.” He stroked the tight skin with his thumb. Once. Twice. His voice was gravely with his need. “I don’t know if this sweet mouth can hold anymore.”

She curved her tongue around as much of his cock as she could. She worked it back and forth before she started sucking. All the while she watched his eyes. They went from light to dark. From open to slumberous before his head fell back and he conceded defeat, responding to the demands of her hands, sliding his cock in and out of her eager mouth at the pace she wanted. At the depth she wanted. Giving her control. Giving her pleasure.

“I want to see your breasts.”

It was an order and a plea. Releasing his thighs, she balanced on her knees and let him set the pace while she undid the last four buttons of her blouse. His cock almost slipped from her mouth as she shrugged the blouse off her shoulders, but with a twist of his hips, he maintained the connection. She pulled the lace-edged camisole down so it tucked under her corseted breasts, pushing them higher.

“Cup them in your hands,” he whispered, shoving his cock in as far as he could and holding it. The flared head throbbed against her throat. Elizabeth struggled to breathe through her nose as her aching jaws stretched further. She cupped both breasts in her hands, shivering at the darts of fire that raced down her spine.

“Roll and pinch your nipples between your fingers.”

She did, lightly at first, but as his cock picked up the pace and his breath came short and hard, it wasn’t enough.

“God, you look gorgeous,” Asa murmured, burying his fingers in her hair, holding her head still for the rampant pillaging of his cock.

Nerve endings in her breasts seemed directly connected to the area throbbing between her legs. The harder she pinched, the better it felt. Soon, she was tugging and squeezing as hard as she could as his cock wildly pounded her throat. His hands in her hair pulled her face harder into the thrust of his hips. The sensation was both torment and pleasure. On the last thrust, his cock popped through the resistance of her throat, sliding deep. There was nothing she could do to prevent it. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t resist. All she could do was relax her throat and try to take it all as, suddenly, his cock throbbed and then spurted. Again and again. She swallowed all of his creamy essence, unable to get enough of his uniquely masculine flavor. Finally, after an eternity, he pulled back until he only filled her mouth. She sucked deep breaths through her nose. His hands dipped to her breasts. His fingers replaced hers. Another silky spurt of fluid coated her tongue as he started working her nipples.

“That’s right, darlin’,” he encouraged as she swallowed. “Take it all.” His shin pushed between her legs, pressing against her straining clit as he started milking her breasts, pulling and pinching the nipples, before drawing them out, only to release them and quickly start over. “Lord, you’re beautiful.”

She suckled his cock harder, loving his taste and the fact that she could put that desperate tone in his voice as she rode his leg. She was close. So close.

“C’mon, darlin,’ go with it,” he whispered above her. “Let go.”

And suddenly, she was flying. Without wings, without care, just riding a maelstrom that consisted of nothing but Asa’s hoarse encouragement and her own spiraling climax.

When it was over, when she found her balance again, she found herself staring into Asa’s strained face. With a last groan, he slid free of her mouth. Falling to his knees in front of her, he cupped her cheeks in his big callused hands and rested his forehead against hers. “Elizabeth, darlin’, you are somethin’.” His labored breath fanned her heated cheeks. “And I am one lucky man.”

She wouldn’t—couldn’t meet his eyes. “I did it right?”

“You smoked the soles off my boots.”

For some reason, his praise made her feel self-conscious.

“Now you’re shy?” he asked disbelievingly.

He smoothed a stray smear of come from the corner of her mouth. “You have your wicked way with me, and then you won’t look me in the eye?”

She swallowed and sighed. “That’s about it.”

She wrapped his hand in hers and rolled her forehead against his. “You going to hold it against me?”

His laugh, as he got to his feet and held his hand down to her, was unsteady. “Not in this lifetime.”

Placing her hand in his and rising to her feet, she smiled. “Nice to see you’re thinking long-term.”

He stepped out of the remains of his clothes and swung her up in his arms, “What makes you think there was a time when I didn’t?”

She didn’t have an answer, and from the way his mouth ravaged hers, she didn’t think he was expecting one.

He stopped beside the bed. His hand slipped from beneath her legs. She tightened her grip on his neck, holding his gaze with hers as her thighs slid down his. Her skirt rode up with her descent. As she twisted to free the bulk, he bent over, letting her feet touch the ground. Her skirts slid back into place. His hands caught hers, releasing first one and then the other from his neck and holding them against his shoulders. He didn’t move then, just stared at her, the silver of his eyes darkening to pewter. Anticipation shivered down her spine. Things were always wild when Asa got that hard, intent look on his face.

His smile started out slow, a wicked lift to the corners as he kissed her palms and released her hands.

“Undress for me.”

His drawl was low and deep, temptation itself. She took a step back. His eyes never left her as she reached for her buttons. She paced herself. One button for every two of his breaths. By the time she had her blouse open all the way to the waist, his breath was coming twice as fast, and she had to rethink her plan. She settled for just letting it slide off her shoulders, no particular rhythm, just let it slide. He stopped breathing altogether. She toyed with the lacy strap on her camisole. Asa’s breath whooshed out on a sigh as she dropped it to her elbow. She slid her arm free, and then let her fingers meander to the other side.

“You’re killing me, darlin’,” he groaned, his gaze a hot licking incentive to continue.

She shrugged her other strap down, keeping her expression as innocent as possible. “And here I thought I was teasing you.”

Her camisole hung on the tips of her breasts. The slightest movement on her part would have it tumbling down. Asa licked his lips.

“You admitting it?”

She raised her eyebrows, turned her back to him, and threw a coquettish smile over her shoulder. “Yes.”

The camisole slid to her waist.

His “Son of a bitch,” slid just as softly into the sudden silence.

She smiled when it reached her. She raised her arms and lifted her hair off her back, holding it high, feeling wickedly powerful as she heard his breath catch and a floorboard creak beneath his foot. Slowly, little by little, she let the silky strands drift through her fingers to slide over her back, falling below her buttocks and once more shielding her curves.

She reached for the sash of her skirt. She knew Asa couldn’t see what she was doing, yet she knew he was hoping. She took her time undoing the button beneath, gauging the proper time to release it from the hard rasp of his breathing. When she deemed him sufficiently eager, Elizabeth untied the tabs to her petticoats, and pushed skirt and all to the floor.

Glancing over her shoulder, she stepped out of the pile. He was a feast for the eyes where he stood in the middle of the room, his face hard, eyes dark, his fists clenched at his sides as if to keep from grabbing her. His skin glistened with a sheen of perspiration. The soft glow of the lamp threw into sharp relief the angles and hollows of his lean, well-muscled body. Between his legs, his cock surged hard and solid. Straining. For her. She blew it a kiss before turning away and bending over at the waist on the pretext of untying her shoes. Her hair fell in a curtain around her, blocking out the light, but nothing could block out the sound of Asa’s sharp curse and rapid approach. She giggled as his arm wrapped around her waist and he tossed her face down on the bed.

“Think it’s funny to tease your husband, do you?” he growled in her ear, his body covering hers, his hard chest pressing her torso into the mattress.

She wiggled lower in his grip until the side of her hip connected with his cock. The tip was hard and damp. For her. Anticipation shivered down her spine. “Yes.”

The mattress sagged as he moved completely over her, his elbows braced on either side of her head, his strong thighs bracketing her softer ones, as his cock nestled its length along the crease of her ass. He slid her hair off the side of her neck and whispered in her ear, “Little girls who play with fire sometimes get burned.”

She arched her neck so his lips found the spot behind her ear that she liked. “Lucky for you, I’m not a little girl.” He sucked the flesh into his mouth before releasing it with a little popping sound. She felt it all the way to her pussy, which clenched and spilled in response. She had to catch her breath before she could finish, “And I like it when you get hot.”

To prove her point, she used the little leverage she had to wiggle her ass against his cock.

His breath puffed against her neck. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see his fist clench in the brightly patterned quilt.

“Very lucky me,” he agreed. Cool air wafted over her back as he drew away.

Her protest died in her throat as he bent his knees. He dipped the head of his cock in her slick juices, and then slid it easily over her pussy lips, nudged into the valley of her vagina before sliding firm and thick back up between her buttocks. As the velvety head caught on the puckered opening to her anus, a bolt of sensation, dark and foreign, shot up her spine. Convulsively, she pushed back, seeking more.

But he was already back at her pussy, retracing his steps, gliding over familiar territory. When he got near her rear, she tensed, wondering, anticipating. This time, when he reached her anus, he paused, lingered, and then slowly, almost delicately, aligned the broad head with the sensitive opening. And pressed.

“Oh my God.” It was like nothing she’d ever felt before. Hot. Forbidden. Intensely erotic, it shot through her inhibitions and awakened something wild and dark into life.

Above, Asa froze. “You like that?”

She didn’t know how to answer. He flexed against her and she didn’t need to, her helpless moan and shifting hips spoke volumes.

He pressed harder against her as he leaned across the bed. She arched back against the pressure, wanting more, the bite of pain as his ungreased cock started to win the battle with the tight ring of muscle, only served to make her ache with a mindless need to be taken. Deep and hard. She didn’t understand it, but she was helpless against the carnal need to have his cock buried in her ass.

There was the sound of a jar opening, and then his cock was replaced with the coolness of a cream.

His finger swirled around her anus and then pressed in. “I could take you here,” he whispered as her flesh submitted to his insistence. His finger felt alien inside her. Alien but incredibly good. She squeezed tentatively, experimenting with the sensation, gasping when he curled his finger and rubbed her against the agonizingly sensitive flesh, sparking secret nerve endings to screaming desire.

“Make you mine in every sense,” he continued.

Fear and desire warred for dominance inside her. “You’re too big.”

He pulled her to the end of the bed. As her legs dangled over the side, her feet inches from the floor, he braced his arm across her back and pressed two fingers against her opening. “You can take me.”

She caught her breath as her flesh parted and muscles struggled to stretch to his demands. It hurt so good, she wept with the pleasure. The demand for more. Suddenly, the battle was over and his fingers were deep in her channel, conquering her muscle’s resistance with masculine determination. He held her still as she twisted to relieve the pressure.

“Just relax,” he told her, pushing harder. “You want this.”

She did. Her pussy was gushing with her pleasure. For all the burning at his first possession, there were other sensations coming to the fore. Ones that had her wanting to move her hips. Take him deeper. Sensations that demanded more.

He pulled his fingers free, and then just as deliberately slid them back.

“Relax,” he ordered again when she instinctively fought his possession. She took a breath, and managed to do so. His fingers slid to the hilt. The burn was minimal, but those other demanding sensations were getting louder. She wiggled her torso since she couldn’t move her hips. He pulled out completely again, but this time, when he came back, he added a third finger.

“I can’t,” she gasped as he demanded entrance.

“You can,” he countered, his tone brooking no objection.

He pushed and her flesh began to give.

“It hurts,” she gasped, straining to relax, but it was too much.

He backed off, and settled for working two fingers in. “If you can’t take three fingers,” he whispered in her ear, “you’ll never take my cock.”

He resumed a steady rhythm with his fingers, gliding in and out, stretching her sensitive channel, preparing her.

“Don’t you want my cock?” he asked as his ministrations had her pussy clenching on air, demanding to be filled the way her ass was.

God help her, she did. She wanted to be everything to him. To give herself to him in this ultimate way. She bit her lip and nodded her head. His third finger pushed against her ass. She forced herself to relax, to bear back against the pressure.

Her breath caught in her lungs as his fingers slid home. She struggled with the feeling of being helpless and overwhelmed. He was taking her ass whether she wanted it or not, and it was the most erotic moment of her life. She wanted more. He gave it to her.

Holding her hips steady, preventing her from moving at all, he applied strong pressure to the fingers pushing at her ass. Her strength was no match for his. All three fingers to the second knuckle. She could do nothing but accept the pleasure/pain that stole her breath and had her mindless with the need for more. She needed him to move. To fuck her. To give her the rhythm her tightly stretched nerves wept for.

“Beautiful.”

It suddenly occurred to her that he was watching what he was doing to her. Watching his fingers claim her ass. Watching her response. Instead of shocking her, the knowledge set off a primitive rush of lust that surged out of control as he began a gentle in and out motion. She couldn’t repress her moan.

He stilled. “Too much?” he asked, stroking her back with his free hand.

Heat flared through her body. Her fingers twisted in the quilt. Words were beyond her, even if she’d had the courage to speak them.

His fingers on her back froze. “Not enough?”

She nodded and bit the quilt as he chuckled.

“Not a problem.” He found a steady rhythm, working her ass, loosening her muscles and teasing her passion. Her clit throbbed for attention, but she couldn’t find relief because of how she was situated. Her breasts felt so swollen, they were going to explode from her body, but the smooth quilt couldn’t provide the stimulation her nipples begged for. And her pussy. Her poor neglected pussy ached with an unrelenting desperate hunger that had her out of her mind. And still Asa fucked her ass with that consistent motion that promised everything and delivered nothing.

If he hadn’t had her pinned with his arm, she would have come off the bed and scratched his eyes out for torturing her so.

“Stop teasing me,” she finally gasped out.

“But I thought you liked to tease.” His voice was hoarse and tight as if he, too, were battling his hunger.

He pushed his fingers deep, and held them high, spreading them. The change in rhythm caught her off-balance. He was clearly enjoying being in charge.

She could work with that. Taking a steadying breath, she clenched her muscles on his fingers.

“Don’t you want me, Asa?”

He pulled his fingers all the way out and pushed them back in. Rougher this time. “When I’m done playing.”

He was done playing if she had anything to say about it. And she did. Lots. “But I need you now, Asa. I need your cock in my pussy. All of it, Asa.”

He fucked her harder, forcing a grunt from her lips. She had to struggle for her voice. “I want you to stuff every last delicious inch of that huge cock in me. I want you so deep in me that I’ll be able to taste you.” His fingers pulled from her ass.

“And then I want you to come. I want to feel you spurt inside me. I want to feel every drop of your seed as you fill me to—”

The words were cut off as he rammed his cock into her dripping cunt, giving her what she wanted, grabbing her hips and pulling her closer, forcing her to take more.

Her shrill cry was pure satisfaction.

“Witch,” he chastised as he pulled free and drove deep into her tight pussy again. “Is this what you wanted?”

She nodded.

“Me too,” he admitted on a groan. He pulled out. Her inner walls clung to his cock, struggling to keep him within her. “I love this tight pussy of yours.”

He reached around and slid a hand under her hips. His fingers grazed her clit. Lightning shot up her spine, jerking her off the bed. “Poor baby,” he murmured in sympathy, “all swollen and neglected.”

He rubbed his finger over the well lubricated surface as he fucked her hard and fast like she wanted. When she was on the edge, her spine stiff with need, her juices pouring from her cunt, pleas for release tumbling from her lips, he took the sensitive nub between his finger and thumb, and milked it in time with his thrusts. As he drove in, he pulled her clit down, toward him, dragging his fingers along her length. As he pulled out, he let go. Only to repeat the gesture on the next thrust. She came in a blinding rush, ignorant of anything except the fiery explosion that fragmented reality until all that existed was his cock, her pussy, and the insatiable pleasure rushing through her.

She came back to herself a few minutes later. He was still in her. Still hard. His fingers still caressed her clit, though delicately in light of her sensitivity. She wiggled her hips in invitation “You didn’t come.”

A kiss landed between her shoulder blades. “In a minute.”

He pulled his cock free of her pussy. A rush of juices spilled over his hand. He dipped the head of his cock in the puddle, pausing a moment to nudge her clit with the tip.

She purred and tilted her hips in response. He smiled against her back, and stroked her recovering clit a little harder. Her body, which she thought was exhausted, began to pulse anew.

He levered himself up. The air felt cool after the heat of his body. His cock eased down against her anus. Before she could resist, he breached the well-lubed opening with just the tip.

“Oh God!” He was too big. Too hard. Too much.

“Easy darlin’.”

He kept his cock where it was, barely in her, poised for possession. Her muscles clenched and released with anticipation and dread. A dark throb of desire took up a beat in her pussy. The echo reverberated in the muscles of her ass. She didn’t know whether to push him away or pull him close. Not that she could do either. She was helpless and at his mercy.

He had none. Refusing to give up the ground he’d gained, he began playing with her clit, swirling his fingers over the surface, tweaking it when she got complacent, rubbing it when she moaned. Despite her apprehension, her attention switched from her ass to her clit, needing him to give her more. Something, anything. He did, pressing harder on her ass, coaxing that forbidden desire into life until she was moaning into the quilt, begging him to take her. To do it.

He did. Pulling her hips up with his hands as he surged hard from behind. With a popping sensation, he was in her, driving up the tight channel, his huge cock dragging against the sensitive nerves, throwing her into overload.

Against her ear, he whispered one word, “Mine.”

She didn’t breathe, struggling to come to terms with the reality of his burning presence. She hadn’t expected to feel so vulnerable. So possessed. He pulled back until only the tip of his cock parted her. His hair brushed her cheek as he put his mouth on her shoulder. She felt his muscles gather, the edge of his teeth, and then he was surging back into her. Deeper than before. He held her pinioned with his body and his mouth as he drove into her. Shock subsided as something primitive began to respond to the elemental possession. Her body relaxed and his cock moved more freely in her passage. She tried to push up, but his teeth tightened on her shoulder as his fingers tightened on her clit.

“Mine,” he repeated, fucking her harder, forcing her to take more. To take him.

She turned her face sideways, kissing his hand where it was braced beside her head. “Yours,” she admitted, knowing it was true, understanding what he needed.

“Make me yours, Asa.”

He froze above her as if he wasn’t sure what he heard.

She kissed his hand again, and then turned her face into the quilt. “Make me yours, Asa,” she repeated. “Claim me.”

“Oh God, Darlin’.”

As if she’d lit a fire under him, he went into motion. His hands, mouth and cock were insatiable, demanding her response, demanding she hold nothing back, that she let him do as he wanted, with no restraint.

He wasn’t gentle. She didn’t want him to be. She wanted him as he was. This was her Asa. Part primitive warrior. Part wild knight in shining armor. The man who saw her for what she was and reveled in it. When he finally buried his cock as deep as he could and pumped his hot seed into her welcoming ass, she buried her face in the quilt and relished each spurt, knowing there was no going back. She’d made her choice. She was his.