The Barefoot Bride (13 page)

"Anyhow, like I was a-sayin'," he continued, "it gits cold enough up here to freeze the stank offen shit, and Chickadee's gwine wear these here shoes."

"Uh... would you please excuse me, Mr. Beasley?" He backed up toward the porch step and reached it before he realized he had. He knew immediately he was going to fall, but not for the world would he move his hands from their spot to save himself from tumbling. He fell to his backside first and then, much to his red-faced dismay, slipped off the porch step altogether, his hands still tightly clutching his manhood.

George Franklin leaned on his knees and scratched his nose. "Saxon, tell you what, son. I ain't gwine say nothin' about you a-runnin' around here a-showin' to God yore ass and ever'thang else. We don't do much o' that up here, but maybe you-uns do in that Boston city. Iffen that's how you git yore jollies, have at it, and with my blessin'. But that thar porch step? Rickety's what it is and near about as old as these here hills. Now, iffen I was you, I'd look whar I was gwine. Lessen you want Chickadee to dig splinters outen yore—"

"Good day, Mr. Beasley." He staggered to his feet. "A real pleasure seeing you again."

With that, he ran into the cabin, aching to wrap his fingers around Chickadee's neck. He slammed the door closed and bolted it firmly. Whirling, he faced her fully, his wrath plain on his stormy features. "You knew he was out there, didn't you?"

She looked up from her broom. "Yep."

"Why the hell didn't you tell me then? How do you think I felt standing there bare naked in front of him?"

"Reckon you was as embarrassed as all git out."

Oh, how cool she is,
Saxon thought angrily. Did she even know what embarrassment was? He strode toward her with two long steps and yanked her up, thankful her damn wolf was outside and not here to object to what was getting ready to happen.

Like George Franklin said—sometimes women needed to be put in their places.

"Since the day I met you, you've done your level best to embarrass me. Sometimes you don't mean to do it, but other times—I've seen that gleam in your damn green eyes. I've seen how your lips curl up when something awkward happens to me, and I've had enough. Do you hear me, woman?"

"Git yore—"

"Quiet!" he thundered, squeezing her shoulders tightly. "It's my turn now, and I'm going to make you blush, Keely McBride. I'm going to do things you never thought it possible to do to someone. And you—after you get over your embarrassment," he said, jerking her closer to him, "are going to beg for more."

She didn't care a whit for his feelings, and he'd been a fool to care for hers. She needed to be taught a lesson, and he was just the man to teach it to her. Finally, this was his chance to prove to her what a man really was. He'd show her in a way that would leave no doubt in her mind.

He swept her into his arms and, none too gently, deposited her on the bed.

Chapter 6

She skirred to the side. His strong hand stayed her. She aimed her head at his belly and threw herself forward. He caught her and flung her back to the bed.

"I don't care if you
are
half man, Keely. What matters right now is I am
all
man. And soon," he said, reaching for the top of her breeches, "you will know exactly what that means."

Never before overpowered and not about to be now either, she began to struggle in earnest and promptly kicked out at him. When her feet met his middle, she reached for his shoulders to throw him over the bed and onto the floor.

But Saxon grabbed her ankles, his fingers wrapping around them like steel chains. "I know you'd like to show me all your mountain-fighting moves, Miss McBride, but I'm in no mood to see them at this time."

His sharp blue gaze nailed her to the feather tick. In his anger, his face seemed carved, as if it were sculpted from the strong but beautiful rock of a mountain, she mused. And those pieces-of-sky eyes of his. It was as if they were alive, with fingers and hands of their own. They had but to look at her and she responded.

Why was she fighting this man?

"Yore lips is so hard lookin', I'm a-wonderin' iffen they turned to stone. Come down here and let me feel 'em."

He watched her through slitted eyelids. She was doing it again. Turning all this around and taking control herself. There was no way in hell Saxon was going to let her do it this time.

"You're going to feel them all right. On every part of your body." He fell upon her, his hand rapidly unfastening her shirt. Without hesitation, he removed her breeches, and only when she was naked did he roll off her.

She closed her eyes. He'd yet to touch her, but her skin was quivering for the feel of him. He hadn't kissed her, but already her insides were shaking like a leaf in a strong autumn wind.

Saxon caressed her with his eyes before he laid his hand on her. Never had he seen such perfection. Her skin, her shape, her scent—she was exquisite. He hadn't planned on wooing her but, unbidden, sweet words came to his lips.

"God, Keely, you're a treasure that defies description. I feel like a starving man who's never had food and is only now beginning to taste it."

He touched his lips to her belly. His mouth began a trail of passion, starting at the tips of her fingers and lightly journeying up her arms, to the sweet slope of her throat, and down across her chest. He lingered at her breasts, his wet, warm touch making Chickadee writhe.

"You like this, little one?" As his lips continued down the silken path of her body, his hands slid up her thighs and into the velvet nest of her womanhood. There they teased and tormented her. They dipped low, tarried briefly, and finally dove deep within her.

Chickadee gasped, the fire of her desire pinkening her cheeks. "Flustered so soon?" Saxon asked, his fingers continuing their tender torture. "Why, we've barely begun. Before we're finished, your face will be as red as your hair."

Desperately, she searched for words to fling back at him. But her voice had fled at the onslaught of the emotions that had taken her captive. And no power on earth could have made her resist what he was doing to her. Right or wrong, she prayed he wouldn't stop.

His palm circled the mound of her femininity, his fingers still moving inside her. "Do you like that? How does it feel to know I've sought and found that which is most precious to you? Soon you'll know what it is to be a woman. And may you blush, Keely McBride; may all the timidity that hides in this perfect body of yours come to surface."

"Saxon." She arched into his hand—the source of the mysterious, rising want swirling through her. "Please..."

"Mountain girl," he whispered, his lips inching toward where his hand already was, "tell me what you want me to do." His mouth nestled into the soft triangle between her legs, his intimate kisses continuing downward.

"Law, Saxon! Yore a-kissin' me thar!" She brought her knees up, imprisoning his head between her thighs.

"Yes, I'm kissing you here. Kissing you, tasting you, just as I told you I would. So are you holding me captive to stop me, or so I won't get away?" He pushed her thighs apart and smiled at what he saw.

She was blushing furiously, her breasts rising and falling like two milk-white mountains riding out an earthquake. Her eyes were closed, but Saxon knew they were ablaze with fiery, emerald-green desire. And before he made her his, he wanted to see that verdant surrender.

"Open your eyes, Keely."

They fluttered once. "I cain't. I cain't do nothin' but lay here and wonder what yore gwine do next."

"Open them."

She did. And when she had, she saw his need for her. Saw the huge difference there really was between men and women. Never had she seen it look like
that
before. Embarrassed no end, she covered her face with her hands.

Saxon took her breasts into his palms. "You have five seconds to get out of this bed. Go, and I won't stop you. Do you understand I'm giving you a choice?"

"Yes."

Saxon counted to five, and Chickadee didn't move a muscle. Never would he have forced her to do anything she didn't want to do—and never had he been so gladdened by any woman's willingness.

Slowly, he removed her hands from her face and kissed each of her other features before he arrived at her mouth. As he captured her lips between his, he settled his body over hers.

"Keely, I want to make love to you. Your presence in this bed means you want the same thing. I've no headache, and I'm not going to stop this time."

She nibbled at his chin. "You didn't have no headache afore neither. And I ain't gwine try to stop you. I'm a-burning' fer you somethin' powerful."

All right, Sax,
he told himself.
This is it. Soon you'll have tied her to you just as surely as if you used ropes.

Tied to him. A free thing bound forever. He closed his eyes and buried his face in the pillow.

"Saxon?" Chickadee hugged him tightly. "Ain't no need fer you to feel bad. I'm growed, and I make my own decisions. Iffen I didn't want this, thur wouldn't be no way on earth you could keep me in this bed."

Her body was so soft beneath his, the arch of her womanhood burning into his moist belly. He groaned.

"Saxon, please. Please make love to me."

Damn! He'd have to be made of iron to resist that sweet plea!

"Keely..." As he had before, he slid into her slightly. "Remember what I said. The pain will last only a moment before you feel the sweetest pleasure known to man."

"Man?"

"And woman." He bent to kiss her, and when he did his mouth caught and smothered the raspy gasp of pain that rose from her as he thrust deeply into her. His lips clinging to hers, he became very still.

Chickadee shuddered beneath him. She wanted to throw him off, but as he lay unmoving upon her, the sharp ache within her ebbed away and was replaced by that same wild longing he never failed to make her feel.

Only this time, she knew he'd appease it.

"Keely—"

"It don't hurt no more, Saxon. Make me a woman now."

With slow, gentle strokes, he did just that. He sensed her rising need for him, but his own need for her was something he'd never felt for any woman, and despite his earlier decision to be quick about this, he wanted to give the girl who lay beneath him all the bliss he was capable of giving her.

"Move, Keely," he whispered. "Move with me."

At first she didn't understand what he meant, but when an elusive hint of some strange feeling began to grow in her belly, she raised her hips and circled them against Saxon's. She met each of his thrusts and felt him fill her so completely, she thought the emotions spinning inside her would surely make her burst.

"How beautiful you are," Saxon moaned. "How soft and wonderful is the deep, deep secret of Keely McBride."

As was her way, Chickadee threw herself into lovemaking with wild abandon. She wrapped her long legs around Saxon's back, imprisoning him in the embrace of her newborn passion. "Saxon, I'm gwine die," she cried, panting. "Stop. No, don't stop. Hurry up. Somethin' bad's a-happenin'."

He smiled knowingly. "I promise nothing bad is happening."

To prove his words, he quickened his pace, driving deeply within her. Chickadee writhed beneath him, mindless of the explosion steadily building. She clung to him, her nails raking his back, her lips forming his name in a silent plea for release. Her whole body craved that which was so close yet still so far away.

And suddenly it was upon her. Searing her, turning her into red-hot embers that flamed higher and higher, fanned by the gale winds of Saxon's sweeping passion. It was a mountain ablaze, this thing she climbed, but she scaled it with Saxon. She melted fast to him as he took her to the summit of the rhapsody he'd promised her. And there he kept her, tottering at the brink until he joined her.

Chickadee felt his powerful release, and his deep, throbbing sent her hurling back into a second rendezvous with the mysterious feeling called ecstasy. Again, the fire began, both burning and soothing her. She shook, rocking from side to side, her arms clinging to Saxon's neck as she reached for the peak of passion yet another time.

Saxon's body glistened, his muscles straining with exertion as he pushed her toward that flaming crest. And when she shuddered beneath him again, he knew he had fostered her bliss once more.

Wordlessly, wondrously, they descended together from that burning hill of desire, the flames of their passion slowly subsiding to a warm, tender heat. They gazed into each other's eyes for an eternity before Saxon finally slipped to the bed beside her.

But the quiet was abruptly broken when Chickadee sat up and saw the bedclothes. "Saxon! Oh, Lord o' mercy, Saxon, I'm hurt! I'm a-bleedin' from inside!"

His eyes flew to the red stain, and he quickly reached for her, enfolding her in the reassuring warmth of his arms. "You're not hurt, little one. That's the proof of your virginity."

"You mean that's normal?"

"It's normal and in no way dangerous to you."

Her fingers quivered over him, her emotions still swirling wildly within her. "Saxon, you... don't think I'm a bad-un now, do you?"