Pariah (18 page)

Clint examined the part of the map she was pointing to and asked, “Man?”

She nodded and then pointed to three spaces, one after the other. “Here. Here. Here.”

“Oh, you mean lookouts?”

That went a bit further than Lylah's speech could go.

“Men,” Clint said as he patted the modified Colt hanging at his side. Furrowing his brow while taking hold of the gun, he asked, “Men with guns?”

Lylah shook her head and walked over to Eclipse. The Darley Arabian was plenty familiar with her and barely stirred from his drinking when she patted the boot hanging from his saddle. “Men with . . .”

“Rifles,” Clint told her as he stood beside her and touched the rifle in the saddle's boot.

She nodded and smiled.

“Now that
is
helpful. You really kept your eyes open while you were there. Then again, I suppose you would have. It must have been frightening to . . . Aw, never mind. Thanks.”

He was certain she knew that last word, but she still didn't seem to respond to it. Instead, her smile had taken on a more wistful quality as she moved her hand gently beneath the spot where Clint had laid his own upon the rifle's stock. When Clint turned that hand around so he could brush his fingertips against her wrist, she averted her eyes and moved her hand away.

There wasn't a lot of sunlight left, so Clint coaxed Eclipse from the river, climbed onto his back, and helped Lylah up behind him. She kept a tight grip upon him, but wasn't as relaxed during the rest of the day's ride. Whenever she did lean against his back, she felt as taut as a bowstring.

Since they still had a ways to go, Clint let the matter be.

Clint wanted to keep riding even though he knew it would still be another day or two before they arrived at the camp. On top of that, no matter how much Lylah added to the map, they would still undoubtedly have to search around a bit before they actually found the place. The map was a help, but it only put them in the vicinity. After that, Clint would need to rely on everything from tracking skills to pure gut instinct. Somehow he knew he'd be able to smell all those murdering bastards when he got close enough.

He thought about that as he prodded the fire that he had built beside a small cluster of rocks that he'd chosen as the spot to make their camp for the night. Before he was distracted for much longer, he threw the twig he'd been holding into the crackling flames and stood up. “You hungry?” he asked.

Lylah was nearby, dipping her feet into a little watering hole a few yards from the fire. While the Arizona Territories might feel like rocky desert in places, Clint had spent enough time there to know where to look for the essentials. This spot was so nice that he decided he ought to remember where it was for the next time he passed through. Then again, it wasn't exactly the terrain that made the spot easy on the eyes.

Lylah had progressed from dipping her feet to stripping down and submerging herself in the water. Her clothes lay in a dirty heap beside the water near where Eclipse was tethered. She was a few paces in with the water lapping at the upper curve of her breasts while she splashed more of it upon her face and into her hair.

After standing there watching her for a few moments, Clint cleared his throat. “Are you hungry, Lylah?”

She was facing away from him, but quickly turned to look toward the sound of Clint's voice. When she saw him standing there, she gazed up from the water and slowly let her hands drift down along the front of her body. Although she was mostly submerged, the shape of her naked figure and the dark color of her nipples could be seen through the water.

“You . . . uh . . . want to eat?” Clint asked.

Lylah nodded. She must have been kneeling in water that wasn't as deep as it seemed, because she rose from it like an offering. Her body was thin and covered in the sheen of wetness. Her hair clung to her shoulders as droplets trickled from it to slide between her pert little breasts and form a stream that flowed down along her flat stomach. After only a few seconds of the night air, her penny-sized nipples became hard. She looked down at her body, but didn't make a move to cover herself.

Suddenly, as if she'd just snapped out of a deep sleep, she turned and crossed her arms over her chest. Even though she was covering her front, Clint was still treated to the fine view of her back. The water came to just below her waist, allowing him to see the gentle line of her spine, which guided his eyes straight to the tight curve of her buttocks.

Clint might not have understood her language, but he could tell she was feeling uncomfortable. If he could have talked to her, he might have tried to get closer to her. As it was, he didn't know if she'd changed her mind completely about something or if she just needed a bit of coaxing. Considering how much she'd already been through, Clint decided not to push her any more.

“Here you go,” he said as he picked up her dress and held it out to her. The breeches she wore under her skirt remained on the ground, but he left them there until she told him otherwise.

Lylah turned to look at him over her shoulder. Realizing she was still halfway out of the water, she lowered herself back down and then turned around again. He could still get an eyeful through the rippling water, and she didn't seem to mind that at all. When she made her way over to him, Lylah smiled sheepishly and reached up to take the dress from his hand. Her breasts came up a bit from the water, but she quickly dropped down again.

There was plenty Clint wanted to do, but taking advantage of a woman wasn't one of them. He'd felt a kinship with Lylah despite the fact that they couldn't have a real conversation. Actually, he felt closer to her because of all the effort it took to express the simplest thing.

“If you want me, you know where to find me,” he said.

Lylah didn't say anything, but she did shoot him a quick glance over her shoulder. After that, she turned her back to him and dunked her dress into the water so she could wash out some of the dirt.

After a few seconds of waiting, Clint began to feel awkward. She was washing her clothes and seemed to have forgotten he was there. Cursing at one hell of a missed opportunity, Clint walked back to the fire.

All evening and into early night, Clint kicked himself for not grabbing hold of the chance he'd been given. The more he thought about it, the more he felt like an awkward boy who'd been too bashful to ask a pretty girl to dance. He was not a nervous boy and Lylah was not a little girl, which made the misstep even more grating. Even worse was the fact that he couldn't just go over to her as if nothing had happened. Every moment that passed, the trail just got colder. At least, that's what he felt until Lylah came to him.

Dinner had been a quiet affair, followed by a quick retreat to his bedroll. Clint had offered the bedroll to her, but Lylah was more comfortable closer to the fire, wrapped up in his jacket. Clint lay on his side, trying to get some sleep, when he heard the faint rustle of movement drawing closer. Before he could shift and get a look for himself, he felt a lithe, warm body slip into place beside him.

Lylah eased in with Clint as simply as the many times she'd climbed up to sit with him in the saddle. This time, however, she was able to drape an arm and leg over his side as she nestled in against him.

Having intended to get some sleep, Clint had already stripped off his boots. When he rolled onto his other side to face her, Clint felt the warm touch of Lylah's bare breasts against his chest. She was lying naked beside him, watching him with wide eyes as if there was a chance in hell that he might disapprove.

Clint allowed his eyes to wander along the front of her body. Lylah's skin was dark enough to look as if she'd spent almost too much time in the sun. Her breasts were just small enough to remain pert, even when she was lying on her side. The dark nipples were soft at first, but instantly became rigid the moment Clint placed a hand upon her.

Lylah let out a shuddering sigh and closed her eyes. The smile on her face told him that she'd probably been waiting for that moment almost as long as he had. Her skin was just as soft as it looked. After brushing a hand along the side of her breasts, Clint moved it over her side, along the gentle slope of her hip, and as far down her leg as he could reach. He propped himself up so he could reach a little farther to move the palm of his hand along the tight curve of her backside.

When Clint eased his hand along the back of her thigh, Lylah moaned softly and moved her legs apart. The thatch of hair between them was still a little wet from her bath, but the dampness Clint felt when he explored her further came from anything but water. He watched her face change as he moved his hand from the tender nub of her clitoris to the silky skin of her inner thigh. When he reached between her legs again and eased a finger between the lips of her pussy, Lylah began speaking her own language in a fluid cascade of moaning sighs.

Clint might not have known what she was saying, but he got the intent well enough. Their bodies were doing all the talking that needed to be done. When he started to move his hand away from her, Lylah took hold of it and guided it once more between her thighs. When Clint rubbed her faster down there, she opened her legs wider and groaned louder.

He could feel her climax approaching through the trembles in her muscles all the way down to the curl of her toes. Lylah quickly rolled onto her back, spread her legs wide, and placed her hand on top of his so she could guide him through the last few motions needed to push her over the edge. Clint didn't need much help in that regard, but it was exciting to let her do what she pleased.

Lylah didn't care how she looked or how she sounded. All she wanted was to squeeze every last bit of pleasure she could out of the next few moments. When her orgasm finally came, her eyes snapped open and she turned to look at Clint. The expression on her face shifted a few times as he moved his hand and fingers in a few ways she hadn't been expecting. When she let out the breath she'd pulled in, her entire body shrank down.

Since it looked as if she didn't have the strength to get up, Clint got to his knees and positioned himself between her legs. Lylah tugged at his jeans, loosening them and then pulling them down as far as she could. He finished the job for her and kicked them off, then knelt once more in his spot.

Now it was Lylah's turn to let her hands wander. Although she moved her fingertips along Clint's chest and down his arms, her eyes never left his rigid penis. She gazed at it hungrily, and when her hands drifted below his waist, she seemed hesitant to go any farther.

“No need to be shy now,” Clint said.

Lylah looked up at his face for a moment, but quickly shifted her eyes back to her real target.

Finally, Clint took her hands the way she'd taken his earlier and moved them to his rigid pole. Judging by her initial reaction, Clint thought he might have been the first naked man she'd ever seen. That possibility was dismissed the moment she started stroking him.

Her fingers curled around his erection and slid slowly up and down its length. With her other hand, she reached between her legs to rub the wetness of her pussy. She then used that hand to stroke Clint some more, lathering her own juices on him while stroking him faster and more vigorously.

“Damn,” Clint gasped. “That's . . . Damn!”

She handled his cock expertly, smiling as he grew harder in her grasp. Clint couldn't take too much more of that before he moved in closer and pushed her legs apart a bit more. Lylah responded by guiding his cock between her thighs and lifting her backside up off the ground a bit so she could meet him halfway.

When Clint felt the tip of his penis brush against her pussy, he thought he might be in for a quick night. She was so wet and so soft that entering her was even better than he'd imagined. To make matters even more difficult to bear, she cinched tightly around his cock so he could feel every glorious second of pushing deeper and deeper into her.

Clint lowered himself on top of her and buried his cock in as far as it would go. Staying there for a second, he was able to collect his thoughts. Just when he was under control, he felt one of Lylah's legs brush against his side while the other slowly encircled his waist. She watched him with tired eyes, as if she needed a second to compose herself as well.

Those few seconds of looking down at her were all Clint required. He started moving slowly in and out of her, watching the intensity build within Lylah's eyes. When he quickened his pace, Lylah wrapped both legs around him and grabbed his shoulders so she could feel the movements of his muscles as he shifted on top of her.

Clint propped himself up with both arms and then straightened so he was once again kneeling between her legs. But Lylah didn't release him. She kept her ankles locked at the small of his back and stretched both arms up over her head. Clint placed his hands upon her breasts, savoring the feel of her hard little nipples scraping against his palms as he pumped into her again and again.

Lylah unwrapped her legs from around him and scooted back. She then got onto her knees and pushed Clint back just enough for him to sit down with his legs stretched out in front of him. From there, she climbed into his lap, facing him, and shifted until her legs were once more wrapped around him and his cock was pressing against the wet lips of her pussy. A few more subtle motions was all it took for him to enter her. She straddled him, grinding her hips intently while rubbing her hands against Clint's back.

They spent the rest of the night like that, shifting from one position to another, resting when necessary and starting up again when the time was right. Not once did a single word have to pass between them.