Intimate Strangers (Eclipse Heat Book 2) (13 page)

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At the end of the fourth week, Lucy and Brody had just finished removing the leathers from Juniper, having parked the chuck wagon to prepare the evening meal.

“You’re growing.” Her daughter was thinner and taller than when they’d started. Lucy was standing on a bucket to reach the top of Big Ben and brushing smooth the sweat marks from the leather traces. Brody hummed and used the curry comb on his withers. They were working side by side when Alex rode in, stopping to describe the tussle his pa had engaged in with a recalcitrant bull.

“The maverick turned right in to Pa’s horse and tried to gore him, but Pa grabbed him by those big old horns and wrestled him to the ground.”

Lucy only hoped Alex wasn’t inspired to try a similar stunt. Ambrose followed him into camp sporting a torn shirt and a heavy coat of dust.

He swerved his ride toward the women and dismounted, his movements stiff, his back already sore. When he lifted the leathers on the second draft horse, he winced.

“If you need liniment tonight, I expect I can find some in the wagon.” She felt instant guilt when he looked surprised at her words.
Have I been so mean he thinks I like to see him in pain?
Her sympathy was tempered some when he asked, “You rubbing it on me?” in an innocent voice.

Lucy hadn’t considered that. Reluctantly she nodded, and his lip did that little hitch thing again, softening his usual stern expression. After supper, when the rest of the crew had gone back out to tend the cattle, Brody visited the chuck wagon and unearthed the liniment Lucy’d mentioned.

Ambrose looked at the bottle and then at Lucy with sly pleasure when Brody handed her the liniment. Before Lucy could crawl-step out of it, he whipped off his shirt and sat on the log in front of the fire.

Brody sat down next to him but he drawled, “Ambrosia Cordelia Quince, I believe it’s your bedtime, Sugar Plum.” She giggled and hugged her father and then Lucy before scurrying to the wagon with a grin thrown their way.

Lucy looked at the broad expanse of bare muscled skin and decided she’d rather put her hands on an armadillo. Cautiously, she touched him. Ambrose’s back was so hot that the heat from his body traveled up her arms to her face and then back down to her lower regions.

He was a fine figure of a man, bronzed and muscled as evidence of his many half-naked days in the sun. Her fingers gripped his flesh and twisted, working the liniment into the pinched nerves.

He grunted under her assault, the rough sound arousing her. Leaning closer and closer, she rubbed on the medicine, caressing his flesh. Touching him gave her pleasure she tried to ignore. She was leaning into him and kneading his shoulders when he growled, “Sweetheart, there’s only one thing that could make me feel better.”

Before she knew his purpose, he shifted position, rolling to his back on the ground and capturing her in his arms when he made the turn.

Lucy found herself stretched across his frame, her breasts pressed against his naked chest. They firmed and her nipples hardened—so did his shaft.

Ambrose put his hand on her rump and urged her higher until the V of her legs comforted his erection. She stiffened in silent protest and then calmed when his hand slid from her buttocks to her back.

He stroked the length of her spine, fingers fumbling open the buttons of her dress so he could touch the hot tips to her bare shoulders, gliding lower across the thin cotton of her chemise.

“You need to remember we’re outdoors and men could come walking in any moment,” she warned him.

“Nope, even Alex is herding the steers tonight. We’re alone.” He leered up at her, daring her to try to escape.

She rolled her eyes at him and then closed them, surrendering to his embrace and aware of the moment Ambrose gave up on seduction and chuckled wryly, pulling a blanket over both of them.

Her mind said to get up and go to the chuck wagon but she was so tired. She thought about the morning meal she’d cook, the kids’ clothes she’d wash when they stopped tomorrow—everything, in fact, but the hard length cradling her. Gradually, her body snuggled closer to warmth and safety as she matched her breath to his, sliding into exhausted sleep.

“Lucy.”

She smiled without opening her eyes, her fingers playing in the thick pelt of hair under her cheek. Turning her head, she nuzzled his nipple, licking the end before sucking on the nub.

He shivered—a low groan rumbling from him. “Sweetheart…”

He tasted salty, his male essence adding to the delicious mix she savored as her fingers traced a line from chest, over muscle-covered ribs, to his flat belly.

Her lips followed her fingers, kissing her way down his front, nibbling him with teasing bites that left him shuddering under her, wrapping her in the musk of his arousal.

“I love you, husband,” she whispered, kissing her way lower until her cheek brushed against his belt buckle, interrupting her progress. He’s fallen asleep in his clothes again.
He works too hard.
She frowned, worrying about his long hours as she fumbled open the leather and parted his waistband, sliding her hand inside to caress his cock.

Her fingers stroked up and down on his erection, rock hard and ready for her even though he feigned sleep. She giggled when he pulled her insistently upward
’
til her mouth was even with his and his breath brushed against her lips.

“Kiss me,” he growled.

Lucy opened her eyes, blinking away the dream.

“Kiss me,” Ambrose repeated.

The rough timbre of his voice made her shiver and her hand clenched around his rigid member. Wrapping his hand around hers, he stopped her mad rush to release her grip. Her breath came in frightened pants.
What have I done?

“Let it happen, Lucy.”

She had no time to ponder her trespass or his demand as he took her mouth, covering her lips with his and penetrating her with the slow slide of his tongue.

His bare knuckles brushed her skin as he slid her dress upward until it bunched above her waist. Pushing her drawers down, he repositioned his shaft, fitting it between her thighs, riding in the wet heat of her cleft. “Close your legs tight around me,” he ordered her as he rolled them so her body faced his, her pelvis lined up with his groin. Then he took her mouth again.

Slowly, in gentle thrusts, he worked his member back and forth between the lips of her sex, brushing across her pearl with a firm nudge at the end of each stroke. She was wet, her liquid response easing his passage as he explored her slick folds. Her cunny flexed greedily, her womb coiling so tight she thought she might explode.

Lucy closed her eyes and sank back into the dream as he pleasured her. Without penetrating her depths, he brushed his cock across her entrance, making her squirm and arch into each stroke.

She savored his strength, curling into the sanctuary of his arms as he cupped her bottom with one hand, lifting and angling her to maximize the sensation of each exquisite touch until her orgasm broke over her, shattering her with a pulsating release.

When she lay shivering, drained and satisfied, he pulled his cock free, put her hand around his turgid flesh, which was sticky with her emissions, guiding her strokes until he stiffened, his back arching as he came, splattering his seed on her belly.

Quietly, he cleaned their hands and then her stomach with his handkerchief. She stared at his shoulder, trying to mentally undo what had been done even as her body lay in a relaxed sprawl against his. When she would have rolled away and scurried to the chuck wagon, he pulled her back on top of his big frame. “Nope,” he said, “rest easy.”

His hand lay in the middle of her back, soothing her until she gave up, closed her eyes and went back to sleep.

Ambrose lay holding Lucy in his arms the rest of the night. He’d come awake when she’d kissed his chest and rubbed her head against him. It had been agony stopping himself from rolling her under him and taking her. But when she’d whispered
I love you, husband,
it had been too long since he’d heard the words and it was if the dam holding back his emotions burst. He’d pulled her up to meet his kiss, only to discover she’d been dreaming—but—dreaming of him.

Awake, she’d been fragile, frightened of the real man she caressed. She’d also been aroused from her dream. It was enough. The ravening beast inside of him that wanted to plunge and thrust and mark her quieted as he’d become her gentle lover.

After—when she would have run—he held on ’til she slept again but he couldn’t waste one moment sleeping. Fierce possessive need to protect and cherish filled him as he pondered what she’d been saying over and over again.
I would not have left you or the children.

But she had—hadn’t she? Even as half light began to appear in the morning dawn, he held her, studying her sweet expression as she lay in repose, trusting him. His finger traced the path of her scar from her crown down her neck and she shuddered, pressing tighter to him, whimpering in her sleep.

Quincy’s contentment evaporated and his lip curled in a silent snarl.
Guard, protect, secure.
His thoughts were in turmoil as he recognized their vulnerability on the trail.
We need to get back to the Double-Q where I can make sure she’s safe.

He tidied Lucy’s dress and kissed her awake when the sun came up and watched her scramble from his embrace and sedately smooth her skirts in place. Blushes or not, her lips curved softly in a smile as she started breakfast.

He’d had plenty of time to think and reason didn’t erase his instincts. He pulled Hamilton aside when he came in for a break and gave him the change in plans.

“We’re night-hawking from here to Wichita. We’ll run some of the fat off of ’em, but I won’t rest easy ’til the herd’s at the stockyards. Tell the men to keep the cattle moving. Alex can drive the chuck wagon at night when Lucy sleeps, but we’re not stopping from now until we get greenbacks in our hands.”

“What’s got you spooked?” Hamilton asked him, not disputing his decision.

Ambrose rubbed the burn on his neck, reminding himself of his near miss with death. “You know how we used to feel when we were crawling through a nest of bluebellies and had to be real cautious? I’ve got that same feeling clawing in my gut right now.”

Hamilton nodded. “Time to tighten things up. Can’t hurt to arrive earlier than we expected. I’ll ride ahead to meet the army procurement officer and talk business. You bring the herd in.”

They were two days’ ride from Wichita when nature tried to ruin all their hard work. The night sky was bright, without a cloud, but the cattle had been bawling and restless all day long.

Ambrose rode beside the chuck wagon to check on his women. Brody was in the back asleep and Lucy drove the team with one hand while rubbing the back of her neck with the other.

“You need me to get Alex up here driving?” He frowned at her discomfort.

She’d kept the meals steady, increasing the chuck wagon’s pace and not questioning his motives when they’d kept the herd moving day and night.

“There’s going to be a storm,” she’d told him.

“Yep,” he agreed, riding close enough to lean down and capture her mouth beneath his. He felt a storm brewing inside himself, and the feel of her lips under his had his cock rigidly ready. She opened her lips to him and for a moment, breathed his air and accepted him into the silken heat of her mouth. He groaned when her tongue touched his and one arm circled his neck.

Then she nibbled his lower lip and returned to the task of driving. “That’s enough distraction for now. I’ve got to find a place to pull over and fix a meal. I need to get busy.” Her voice was a rough scold that didn’t cover her obvious desire for him.

“Once we hit Wichita, I intend to have you in my bed, Lucy, and I’m planning on taking more than a few liberties.”

He growled the words, making it clear that their sexual courting was at an end, and it was time to dance. She wrinkled her nose at him.

When he looked down in disbelief, she said calmly. “Be that as it may, there’s going to be a storm, and it’ll be fierce. I need to pull over and set up camp before that happens.”

He pointed out a spot, set out the cookstove and lit it, unhitched the two draft horses and watched her begin the meal.

Her movements were efficient and sure as she took charge, shooing him back to the restless cows bawling their nervousness in the otherwise still night. Ambrose had made a circuit and neared the camp again when the first bolts of lightning shot from a dry sky and the wind kicked up a dust storm. The cows that had been plodding along tired from continuous travel suddenly turned into a rushing mass of cattle confusion.

The sky blackened and torrents of rain washed across the landscape, followed by a muddy wind. He was nearly unseated when he plowed through stampeding steers as he tried to get back to the chuck wagon.

Alex skidded in as the rain poured down, dismounting before his horse was even stopped. Brody huddled in the chuck wagon, peering out from the tarp-covered back when Lucy grabbed Ben and began hooking him in the traces.

Even as she fumbled to slap the harness in place, a flash and crack of lightning hit close enough to smell brimstone and light the sky. She could see cattle running straight for the camp, the chuck wagon and her family.