SEDUCTIVE SUPERNATURALS: 12 Tales of Shapeshifters, Vampires & Sexy Spirits (201 page)

Why can’t I get away from this guy?
Taylor shook her head at how Jackson’s path seemed to continually cross hers. She couldn’t help wondering if Ida might know what else Jackson was up to.

At the wash stand in her room, she poured water into the washbowl from the large tin pitcher, removed her clothes and rinsed the grime off her face and arms.

As she washed, she listened to the sounds coming from the bathroom—sounds of water being poured from the large buckets she’d seen on the hot stove. Finally she heard the sound of the hand pump as the buckets were refilled with water.

Finished with her sponge bath, Taylor wrapped herself in a large towel and ducked out into the hall to visit the water closet. When she returned to her room, she eyed the small bed. It seemed sensible to try to snooze through the heat of the day, she thought.

As she neared the bed, Taylor noticed a glint of sunlight coming through the wall her room shared with the bathroom. Unable to fight her curiosity, she knelt on the bed. The small knothole was now at her eye level and when she looked through it, she had a perfect view of the bathtub.

* * *

Jackson removed his shirt and new vest and hung them neatly on the wooden hooks on the wall. Then he filled the tub with hot and cold water so it was perfect and ready for a relaxing soak. Rubbing his hand over his stubbled chin he turned back to the wash basin and reached for the shaving kit Ida let him keep in a drawer. After a dipper full of hot water, he lathered the soap, and carefully began to shave.

Everything was going as planned.

The vest was perfect—its hidden pocket would carefully conceal the tiny 32-caliber Harrington & Richardson’s revolver. It had been an exasperating glitch that Jackson hadn’t even considered. He hadn’t known Marshall Earp’s meticulous habit of checking everyone for firearms before they entered the saloon, even employees. Absolutely no guns were allowed during business hours.

All his plans had been delayed until the vest could be made to his exact specifications. But it had given him time, he realized, to get to know the Earps. They trusted him, and he could use that to his own advantage.

Now, with everything in place, he only needed to meet a few more times with the McLaurey boys to pick the night, take delivery of the revolver, make sure everyone knew their part, and time their getaway.

It had been a long time coming, but he knew the revenge would be sweet. As a young man he had lain awake many nights, planning the death of the famous Marshall Earp for the murder of his father. The pain was still as sharp today as it had felt when he’d learned the details of his father’s death. And now, finally, it was almost time.

Jackson rinsed the soap residue off his face and dried it with the hand towel that hung from the wash stand, then finished getting undressed and walked to the tub.

Steam gently rose from the water’s surface, and Jackson tested it’s warmth with one hand. Next to the tub, Ida kept a shelf of glass bottles filled with scented oils. He reached for one and uncorked it.

As he breathed in the sweet aroma of the rosewater, a woman’s face appeared behind his closed eyes. The face was young, with pleading emerald eyes. Her lips were moving as though she were asking a question, and he guessed—and hoped—that she was naked beneath her silky red robe…

Jackson opened his eyes in surprise. He had the distinct feeling that he knew the face. Smiling, he wondered if Ida was putting more than rose petals in the bath oil. After he poured some of the oil into the bathwater, he climbed into the tub, standing for a few moments before luxuriously sinking into the hot water.

Jackson felt his muscles relax, one by one, soothed by the hot water as he eased his body into the water. He slid further into the tub, until the back of his neck cradled its edge. With every breath he inhaled the scent of roses, and recalled the vision of the mystery woman’s face.

A blurred image reappeared in his mind and he began to examine it for any detail that might make sense. Her green eyes seemed to have distinct sense of purpose, but also seemed kind. Wisps of rich, mahogany brown hair framed her face, and she had the look of both delicacy and strength. Mentally, he commanded the image to drop her robe. She did as he asked with a dimpled smile that sent his pulse racing. His body responded instantly, throbbing and hard, and the woman’s body leaned toward him. As he stared at her breasts, her nipples hardened before his eyes. She was slender, almost willowy, with a narrow waist and slim hips, so different than any of Ida’s girls.
Did she work here?

Jackson’s eyes snapped open in response to his body’s physical reaction to the vision of the willowy beauty.
This is crazy.
He abruptly stood up in the tub and his body felt as if it were half ice and half flame. The contrasting cool air served to calm his throbbing arousal and he shook his head to clear it of the image of the dark haired woman.

I don’t have time for daydreams.

Sinking back into the tub, his skin still tingling, he roughly scrubbed away any lingering feelings of desire, now embarrassed at his reaction. Maybe he needed to take Ida up on her offer after all. He wondered if such a girl existed in Ida’s harem. Not likely. She just didn’t have the look of a working girl, he decided.

He finished his bath with a thorough soaping of his hair, then toweled off quickly and dressed. He had an appointment with the McLaureys.

It was time to finish things.

Forever Rose: Chapter Six

Taylor stirred from her nap and roused a dream-image of Jackson, trying to capture it before it faded away. In her dream she’d joined him in the tub for a delicious, erotic shared bath.

As she rubbed her eyes, she reluctantly brought herself back to reality. She felt almost drugged—in a state of half-asleep and half-awake—and, for a moment, forgot where she was.

Then she remembered…

She had enjoyed peeping on Jackson a little too much. His body had certainly been magnificent—silky black hair covered his chest and she couldn’t deny she had wanted like crazy to touch him, to lay her hands on his chest and wrap his arms around his neck, to feel his muscled arms beneath her fingers. And as her gaze had dropped, the pattern of hair tapered to his flat stomach, only to begin again below.

As she’d stared for a long moment, unable to tear away her gaze—at the same time a little ashamed, she felt powerless to stop. And her body had begun to ache deliciously as her gaze had lowered downward still. A delightful shiver had run up her spine and she’d felt her pulse quicken, unable to stop herself from mentally caressing him, stroking him from the safety of her room.

Though she’d only allowed herself mere seconds to peek, she blinked in surprise at seeing his own arousal…then realized her own body had responded with its instant desire. Within a heartbeat she felt passion rise in her like a wildfire, clouding her brain. She’d fallen back onto the bed, the vibration of liquid fire between her legs. Then, closing her eyes, the vision of Jackson still sharp, she’d suddenly soared to an awesome, shuddering ecstasy, her pleasure pure and explosive. So fast. Feeling sweetly drained, she’d succumbed to a numbed sleep.

Now, late afternoon sunlight filtered through the window and she sighed as she let the real vision of Jackson fade along with her dream-vision of him. She was still in the little room at Ida Bailey’s. Nothing had changed.

With her towel re-secured, she stepped out of her room to again use the privy across the hall, then knocked softly on the bathroom door to make sure it wasn’t occupied.

When she entered the room she shuddered as the memory of Jackson crept back into her mind, both embarrassed by her peeping and mystified by her own tremendous physical reaction to him—especially the uncontrolled and spontaneous orgasm.

She had never felt such heated desire before, that was certain. Her boyfriends of the past all had a certain common thread of somewhat boring—safe—security, and each had—at least in the beginning—respected her wish to delay their lovemaking. To her it hadn’t seemed right—making love
without
any of the passionate desire she expected to feel. Eventually, though, each had issued an ultimatum and she’d given in, feeling there was something wrong with her. All her boyfriends had been good-looking, so that wasn’t it. Maybe it was silly for her to want passion in this day and age, to think her feelings could match what she loved seeing in movies and reading about in books.

She just wasn’t certain why she found herself so disappointed. Every time, after admitting to herself that making love changed things—and not in a good way—she’d sent each on their way. At first she’d figured it was just a string of bad luck. But her real fear was that she’d never find that special someone. And lately she’d lost the desire to even look. Maybe she was simply meant to be alone.

One thing was true, though—no one had ever made her feel as erotic as she’d felt watching Jackson, and she certainly wasn’t used to feeling the lack of control. It had definitely felt like what she’d imagined the passion was between two people that were meant to be together. And it was the passion she’d imagined must have existed between her mother and father.

But why him? Why should he be the one to evoke the long suppressed feelings in me?

After hanging her towel on one of the hooks, Taylor lifted a steaming bucket of hot water and poured it into the tub. Then she adding another bucket of hot and then added cold water until it felt perfect. Impulsively, she reached for the bottle that she had watched Jackson pour into his own bathwater. Uncorking the bottle, she breathed in the delicate smell of flowers. Rosewater, she decided, and added some to the bathwater.

Efficiently and quickly, she washed, soaped and rinsed her short hair, then her body. Minutes later she stepped out of the tub and toweled off. As the water drained, she felt restless and a little uneasy, as though she were waiting for something to happen.

Back in her room, Taylor opened the wardrobe to dress for dinner. Several dresses now hung next to her own newly purchased clothes. Her fingers touched the smooth, satiny material and she was amazed at the intricacy of some of the lacework. Finally she chose a rosy-pink-colored dress with a full, ruffled skirt. Its bodice was fitted and the neckline didn’t look too low, she decided. She put on the dress, then added her own petticoat and the white cotton stockings Ida had provided. The short boots she’d bought fit well enough, and with a quick brush of her hair, she was ready.

Ida knocked on the wall outside Taylor’s curtained doorway. “Are you ready for dinner, my dear? May I come in?”

“Of course, Ida. Thank you so much for the dresses—come see.”

Ida drew back the curtain. “My goodness, you certainly look different in a dress. And that one was always one of my favorites.” She smiled at Taylor.

“And I brought you something else. I don’t know why you’ve cut your beautiful hair, but why don’t we pin this on.” Ida held out a fall of brunette hair, carefully curled into a flowing, feminine style, then secured it to the back of Taylor’s head. With a quick peek in the hand mirror, she saw that it blended perfectly.

“There, now you look absolutely wonderful,” Ida exclaimed. Retrieving a case from her pocket, she added, “and with a touch of rouge to your cheeks and lips, you’re complete. Now, come with me, and I’ll introduce you to the girls.”

Taylor took another quick peek into the mirror, amazed at the transformation. “It doesn’t even look like me.”

“Taylor, should I introduce you as that...or perhaps you need a different name for tonight?  None of my girls use their given names, actually. Do you have a middle name, my dear?”

“Yes, it’s Rose.”

“Ah, much better. That’s what I shall call you—at least when you’re wearing a dress.” Ida winked then chuckled softly as she led Taylor down the hall to the front stairs.

As they made their way to the dining room, Taylor heard the sounds of laughter and conversation. The large dining table was surrounded by at least a dozen young women enjoying a meal of baked chicken and fresh summer vegetables. They quickly added a chair at the table for her and dished up a heaping plate of food.

“Everyone,” Ida said, tapping her spoon on the edge of a glass, “this is Rose. She’ll be staying with us for a while. And no need to raise those eyebrows, now—she’ll be working in my garden, that’s all. So all of you be nice to her.”

Taylor stared at the women. They were all gorgeous, with beautiful gowns, coifed hair, and lightly made-up faces. They were not at all what she’d expected. Each looked happy and well cared for and it was obvious that Ida must carefully maintain their environment. The place definitely felt more like a home than a brothel.

“So, give Rose her privacy, and make her feel at home, girls. And pass down those biscuits,” Ida added, patting Taylor’s hand in a motherly way.

The lively conversation resumed and Taylor quietly ate her dinner, marveling at the volume at the table. As the girls finished, one by one they retired to the parlor to wait for their evening to begin. As Taylor cleared the table, she was surprised to find Maylee in the kitchen preparing the sink for the dirty dishes.

“My, my. And who might you be? You’re new here, aren’t you?” Maylee squinted to get a better look at Taylor. “Why, you’re that boy that Martha Reed sent to my back door, aren’t you?” Maylee put her hands on her hips and roared with laughter. “Well, you are full of surprises, now, aren’t you?”

Taylor stood in the doorway with her mouth agape.

“Now, don’t you worry. It’s certainly none of my business what you’re up to. Besides, if my friend Martha thinks you’re respectable enough to send to me, it’s good enough for me. Now bring me those dishes before you get that pretty dress dirty.” Maylee beckoned to Taylor.

“I...don’t know what to say,” Taylor began. “It’s a little complicated… Ida asked me to dress for dinner, but I’m still only working in the garden—”

“Well, you sure could pass for one of her gals, you know. With that pretty long hair and that lovely dress, you just better stay out of the parlor.” Maylee chortled at the thought and waved Taylor back to the dining room for more dishes.