Breathless (4 page)

She looked over her shoulder at him and drank in the sight of the man she was about to take to her bed. Chocolate brown eyes, dark brown hair, thick lashes, and with a broader chest than her first impression, Colt was everything she could ask for. “Used to?”

“Since I’ve known you, there hasn’t been a day when you haven’t been run off your feet. Or any nights off, for that matter.”

“I’m not rushing around right now.” She lifted her hands to the buttons on her coat and slipped them free.

He stepped closer and set his hands at her waist. His palms burned through her day dress to her flesh. She’d packed the corset, half afraid that if she put it on again, she would return to her own time. He squeezed her gently. “I like feeling your pliant flesh. You’re perfect, Stella.”

“I don’t like corsets,” she said. “Besides, styles will change soon and women won’t have to wear them anymore.” She liked it here too much to chance a return to Blue McCann’s nothing existence. With luck, she would soon think of herself as Stella.

Maybe that would guarantee she could stay.

She watched a storm of emotion chase through Colt’s eyes. Desire warred with hesitation. “Don’t be polite, Colt. Take what you want.”

He groaned and pulled her to his chest. His eyes went hungry as desire won. His smile was crooked as always, but his kisses were straight, hot and hard.

She sighed into Colt’s mouth as he pressed her lips open and pushed for entrance. His hands moved up from her waist to cup her cheeks. His face filled her view as he set her away from him.

“That’s all you want? A kiss?”

He was torn, desire rode him, but the mores of the time held him back. Enough! She would have to take charge.

She tilted her head and smiled. “Colt, I won’t break. I’m healthy again.”

“So am I. That’s the problem, Stella. I’m a healthy man and what I want isn’t proper.”

“Proper?” This was worse than she thought. She hadn’t read anything about what was considered proper behavior for single women, but considering she’d landed square in the middle of a whorehouse and Stella took care of the women there, Colt would surely read her attraction to him.

She tilted her head into his palm, turned her lips, and kissed him there. He sucked in a harsh breath. She extended his index finger and slid her mouth down to the apex, keeping her eyes locked on his. No man could mistake this message, not even a prim doctor. His eyes widened. His belly jerked. His cock rose between them.

“You’re hard,” she said around his finger. “You want me and I want you. Take me, Colt.”

He stepped back, taking his hands away, then frowned. “This bump to the head has affected your judgement. I will not take advantage.”

She raised her face to the ceiling, closed her eyes, took a breath, and took a mental count to three. Without missing a beat, she began undoing buttons. First at her neck, then at her throat, and then down the front of her dress.

Colt stared, his fingers twitching at his sides. “Stella, stop, this is—”

“I know what I want, Dr. Stephens. I’m what? Twenty-five? Old enough to know. Old enough to want. Hell! I’ve been delivering babies, handing out prophylactics to prostitutes. How sheltered do you think I am?”

By now, she’d undone all her buttons and her dress hung open. His face went deep red; his cock sat just under his waistband, a bulge of promise. His hands clenched into fists. “Dearest Stella, if you persist, I won’t be responsible.”

B
lue shucked off the shoulders of her gown. The simple day dress puddled at her feet. Colt’s eyes burned through her light cotton chemise until her nipples peaked with need.

“My bedroom’s through there,” she whispered and pointed. It had to be there, she hadn’t seen a room with a bed in it yet and they’d traipsed through the whole apartment.

At long last, he clasped her hand in his and towed her behind him into the room at the front of the apartment. Inside, they found a lace-covered bed, unmade, a simple washstand with water in the bowl, and a single dresser and mirror. A wardrobe stood against the wall on the far side of the bed, still open. Stella had left in a hurry.

She flushed at the sight of the disheveled room. “Sorry, obviously I had to rush out of here.”

He grinned, then slipped his finger under her chin. “A hurried departure is part of our lives.” He frowned again. “Babies don’t wait.” His gaze clouded with doubt.

She knew what he was thinking. It was on the tip of her tongue to say she used birth control; then she remembered. Stella’s body was a wide-open baby machine.

“I care for you, Stella, but I’m not sure that’s enough for a happy marriage.”

“What’s marriage got to do with this?”

He stepped away, shock making his face flat. Anger roiled in his gaze. “I wouldn’t compromise our friendship unless it meant marriage. What kind of man do you take me for?”

Oh, crap. An honorable man with the moral fabric of 100 years ago. Crap. Again. “You’re a good man, Colt Stephens. A man I want with my whole being. But marriage is a huge step, and I can’t promise you.”

“But if a child results—”

She stopped him with two fingers on his lips. “I have a solution. For everything.”

“What is it?” You’d think a doctor would understand there were ways to enjoy sexual fulfillment without the threat of pregnancy, but he was behaving like a man, not a doctor.

“No penetration,” she said, and watched his eyes flare heat.

“What else—”

She dropped to her knees and he broke off, quick to see where she would take him. “Stella, you don’t have—”

“Colt.” She smiled as sweetly as she could. “Ever heard the term
payback?
”

He swallowed, hard. Sweet, sweet man. He freed his cock, and from her position on the floor he was huge—long, strong, and perfectly formed. She salivated and felt moisture gather between her legs.

She ran her thumb from his base to his tip with a firm stroke. “Like a rock,” she said. He threw his head back and groaned while he braced his feet wide. She snuggled her knees between his ankles.

His cock slit was dewed, and she tipped the underside of her tongue against the moisture as a tease. Then in a move designed to take him to the edge, she slid her wet mouth down in one slick, quick slide, as far as she could go. He tasted of salt and need and Colt.

His legs trembled. “Ahh!”

She clasped his knees hard and tightened her lips as she slid farther down his shaft. There was no way she could take him all; he was a tall man and his cock was in proportion. After three more quick slides, she looked up at him and smiled. His hands cupped her head. He was catching on.

She wanted to lick his balls, but they were still hidden. “We need to be naked.”

He needed no more encouragement. They stripped and stretched out on the bed. She went to bend over him again, but he rolled her to her back and clasped her wrists over her head. Trapped in an ancient four poster with a man intent on her. Finally!

Colt pressed her knees together with his and looked his fill of Stella’s heavy breasts. Her nipples were full, the size of silver dollars, and dark, delicious red. He flicked one with his tongue to see how sensitive she was. She sucked in a quick breath and arched, her hands happily pinned over her head. She wrapped her fingers around the wrought-iron supports in the head board, leaving her helpless to his exploration. Her contusions were healing nicely, but he’d seen her wince in pain when she hopped out of his car.

He kissed a light bruise on her throat, over her carotid artery. “I’ve never had a woman stretched out naked for me before. May I look you over?”

“You’re a doctor, Colt. You’ve seen—”

“Not like this. Not alive and warm and wanting me. Not completely naked, either.” His heart swelled in his chest at the knowledge of her surrender. He had her permission and cooperation to do whatever he wanted with her, to her. His cock throbbed against the softness of her thigh. If he wasn’t careful, he’d let fly before he brought her to full pleasure, and that would be a difficult beginning.

Because beginning was the only word for what they shared. A beginning would lead to more, would lead to a future. He was as sure of that as he was his own name.

Her nipples tasted like ripe blueberries, a burst of flavor on his tongue. He sucked her entire aureola into his mouth and rolled the tip with his tongue. She squirmed, wanting her legs free, but he kept her knees tightly closed between his.

Her pubis was covered with dark red swirls of hair that hid her deepest feminine secrets, her waist flared, wide and comfortable, into hips meant for riding. Every thought, every muscle and sinew in his body strained toward her.

He’d dreamed of kissing the back of her neck, sliding his hands into her wet cunny, and rubbing until pleasure overtook her and she collapsed against him. In his dream, he’d bent her over at the waist and rammed himself into her from behind, deep and thrusting, like an animal. But that was a dream, and penetration was impossible. She was right. They had to be cautious.

As he trailed his mouth and lips down to her navel, he didn’t think she’d mind his taking her from behind. She was a generous woman intent on exploring him as much as he wanted to explore her.

He dipped his tongue into her sweet bud of a navel, the scent of her wet mound coming to him, in an enticing aroma of need and womanly musk. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured.

A lift of his hair told him she’d let go of the bedstead, but she didn’t tug him away from his target.

Mouth play. He’d dreamed of it, wondered about it.

And now it was his to enjoy.

“I’m going to make you work for it,” she said on a huff. She slid her hands over her curls, fingers closed tightly. He chuckled.

“A challenge you’ll lose, Stella.” He set his mouth to the apex of two fingers and pressed. “Are you going to be shy now?”

She nodded, her face pink, eyes bright. “Work for it. Make me so ready I can’t resist.”

He saw her game now. If she could tell herself he’d convinced her, driven her mad with passion, then she could forgive herself for her womanly desire. He set himself to the game wholeheartedly.

He started by sliding his mouth down to her inner thigh and licking the warm flesh. She sighed and her muscles tensed under his ministrations.

Tantalizing minx.

He nuzzled against her soft hair, rooted his tongue between her tightly closed fingers. A taste of her juices burst on the tip of his tongue. Sweat heaven, she was delicious!

He pressed his palm on her covering hand firmly so her belly could feel what it would be like to have his weight covering her. As expected, her fingers loosened on a sigh. He took full advantage and slicked his tongue deeper between her guardian digits.

Her sweet juices flooded through her cupping hand. Then he remembered what she’d done with her mouth on his finger and copied the motion. Sliding low, he slid his mouth over her forefinger and sucked it deep, moving it aside while he milked it. With a deft movement, he slid his other hand close and speared a finger into her slit. He released her forefinger while she writhed, and stabbed his tongue between her pink, juicy folds.

Her clitoris rose, plump and rubbery, to his mouth, and he’d won the battle of wills. Now, he could carry her away on a passion so hot she could never deny him.

He set to work and lapped and kissed her intimately. Her fingers fell slack to her inner thighs, and the pot of honey that was Stella opened to him.

What was left of this civilized man deserted him as her legs opened to his gaze. Wet, plump lips popped open, and her secrets revealed themselves to his questing tongue. He pressed his cock into the bedclothes, willing himself to control.

But it was a hard-fought battle.

He growled and worked his way between her outer lips until he’d exposed the small bud of her pleasure center. Wet, glistening, the bud peeped out at him.

He wasn’t sure what she wanted, so he lay the flat of his tongue on the bud and pressed up. She bucked and the bud stiffened against his tongue. He tickled and swirled it, felt her tension rise as her hands fell away completely.

Her legs opened wide in the sweetest offering. With no control left, he reared up and grabbed her hips while she splayed herself to his view. With a growl of appreciation, Colt buried his face in the cradle she offered and tasted the wine of her inner beauty.

She gushed moisture for him, as his tongue delved as deeply as he could go. He lapped and played and tasted and sipped as she bucked and lunged, pressing her pussy high toward him. She needed more, needed deeper, wider.

“You need a cock, Stella. My cock,” he said, as he experimented by sliding two fingers into her wet slit. Her lips opened and bloomed as he slid in and out of her. “So wet! Hear yourself? You’re slick and slippery and greedy for cock.”

“Fuck me, Colt.”

In appreciation, he slid a third finger into her and she bucked wildly, straining for more. He plunged more rapidly. “Is this enough?”

“Harder, faster!” she begged. “Fuck me!” Her plea made his cock weep until he couldn’t take it anymore. He pulled his hand free of her and slicked her moisture along his shaft until he was wet and gleaming.

He straddled her backward and offered his cock to her mouth, while he slipped his fingers back into her weepy, needy cunny Her hips bucked and rolled. Her mouth, wet and hot, played the head of his cock until he feared losing control. If he snapped, he’d plunge into her throat and cause an injury. He shook with holding back.

Her mischievous fingers found his sac and diddled and played. When she squeezed him, he groaned. “I’ll come if you do that again.”

She stopped. “Let’s come together.”

She pressed her pussy up toward his face, while he felt the low, hot slide of her mouth take his cock gently. With control within reach again, he pumped and retreated into her mouth, in a slow mouth penetration that shook him.

She clasped his head and pulled him to her waiting need.

He slid three fingers inside her again, marveling at the juiciness he found. He bent his head to her and licked around her clitoris, lapping at the cunny juice glistening just for him.

His cock throbbed in her mouth while she sucked and swirled and milked him. He mimicked her mouth action on her cunt, while he kept up a steady pressure in her channel. He sucked gently on her clitoris until it stood straight out; then he used his thumb and lips and tongue on the valiant bud.

He crooned and moaned with each pass of her tongue across the tip of his ready cock.

Suddenly, she groaned and went stiff. Her pussy gushed against his fingers, and instinct took over as he pressed into her, wishing his cock was buried deep, deep, deep. Deeper than his fingers, deep enough to bury his seed in her grasping womb.

“I’m coming!” she screamed, and bucked and held while he suckled and took her higher.

His orgasm built in the depth of his balls and rose like a geyser through his shaft and into her mouth. Her wet, sucking, greedy mouth.

He cried out with the sheer pleasure, sure he would die of it.

Felt sure he didn’t want to live if he never had it again.

Three hours later, Blue watched as Colt lifted his hat in a good-bye salute and drove off. He hadn’t wanted to leave her, but a young boy had knocked on her door looking for him. His father was in pain and he’d been sent to find Doc Stephens.

She’d offered to help, but Colt shook his head and frowned.

Luckily, they’d already been dressed when the knock came. Colt had blushed red when the boy showed up. Redder still when she’d kissed his cheek at the door. She supposed that was forward and too public for the good doctor, but she felt wonderful and didn’t care if the world knew it.

There hadn’t been time to discuss when they’d see each other again, and Blue knew it might not happen at all.

Maybe she’d go back to her own life before he returned.

But she still couldn’t see why she was here at all.

Colt’s car putt-putt-putted away down the lane. She had to get her own car back, but the idea of driving it again gave her the creeps. Bart Jameson had taken the damaged wire wheels to be fixed and put the chassis on blocks in Belle’s front drive.

Belle had made noises about the car sitting there because Perdition House was supposed to be the perfect retreat. No reminders of life outside the grounds were permitted to interfere with her gentleman callers’ good time.

Sooner or later, Blue would have to pick up her car. Stella knew how to drive and so did Blue. But a Model T? Sure, it might have simple controls, but Blue was used to power steering and brakes and all the modern conveniences. Like windshield wipers and shock absorbers, and especially seatbelts. She rubbed her neck.

Maybe she could tell Colt she was too afraid to get behind the wheel. Maybe he would offer to teach her to drive with confidence again.

Although he’d made a comment about women not being suited to driving. Hmm. While Blue could happily let him think that way for the time being, she had the idea that Stella would bristle.

She had no choice but to drive again, and soon.

The bump on her head gave her ready excuses for any missteps she took while adjusting to life here, so she’d best use it to her advantage.

She watched until Colt was out of sight, on his way to his house call. Wow, that was a shock. A doctor who made house calls.

For the first time in days, she was completely alone. She could be Blue again. She cupped Stella’s full breasts, felt her heart beating strongly in her chest, filled her lungs with fresh air, and closed her eyes. Blood rushed every which way through her body, streaming life.