The Outlaws: Rafe (15 page)

His mouth left hers again and he stared down at her.
 
Then his hands were on the buttons of her shirtwaist, his eyes begging her not to stop him.
 
However much she knew it was wrong, aware that she would never see him again once he rode off, Angela couldn't find it in her heart to resist.
 
As Rafe had pointed out many times, she
was
his wife.
 
If he was an outlaw, a killer, it was a part of him she'd never seen.
 
Tomorrow would be time enough for regrets.
 
For one magic moment in time, she wanted to be Rafe's wife in more than name only.

Angela closed her eyes as Rafe pulled off her shirtwaist and eased the straps of her chemise down her arms, baring her breasts.
 
She gasped in delight when he touched her nipple with the tip of a finger, then claimed it with his mouth.
 
Her senses were awhirl with sensations.
 
She felt her nipple rise up, felt it harden and pucker.
 
The sensations began anew when he gave his attention to her other nipple.

Her hands splayed over his chest.
 
She flexed her fingers into the iron-hard muscles of his upper arms and heard him groan his appreciation.
 
She arched her back, pushing herself into his mouth as he suckled her.
 
How could this man be a killer? she wondered before her mind shut down and her senses took over.

She had no idea how it happened, but moments later Rafe had rendered them naked.
 
His mouth returned to hers, reaching deep for a response, asking for more and taking greedily when she complied.
 
Compelled by a wanton force that surprised her, her hand moved over his body.
 
Trailed over his hips, his lower stomach.

Fingers searching, curiosity aroused, she let her hand stray
 
into forbidden territory.
 
His breath hitched.
 
She felt him quiver.
 
Tense.
 
Felt his muscles lock.
 
He broke from the kiss with a soft groan, his eyes wide open, as if all his senses were focused on the one muscle in his body that ached the most.

His hand closed around hers, bringing it to his throbbing erection, pumping it slowly up and down.
 
Angela had never felt anything like it in her life.
 
Hard as steel.
 
Soft as velvet.
 
It grew larger with each stroke of her hand.

"Enough," he growled.
 
"Sweet, sweet Angel, you can't imagine what you do to me.
 
I've been hard since the day I met you.
 
I still don't know if I should do this to you.
 
You know I have to walk away from you and not look back."

Angela knew, but it didn't matter.
 
If Rafe was a killer she didn't want to think about it until tomorrow.

"What are you thinking?" Rafe asked.

"That I must be crazy to want this."

"No, I'm the crazy one.
 
I'm a wanted man.
 
An outlaw in the eyes of the law.
 
But my need for you has stolen whatever good sense I possessed."

Angela went still.
 
An outlaw.
 
God, she couldn't do this.
 
"No, I've changed my mind.
 
I don't want this."

"It's too late, sweetheart."

He kissed her again.
 
Voraciously, ravenously, until her wits whirled and reality became a dim memory.
 
If he stopped now she knew she would surely perish.
 
She probably would hate him afterward but now all she could think about was that part of her that throbbed with unrequited need.

His body rasped hotly along hers, causing a delicious friction.
 
She arched wildly and nearly screamed when he pressed open-mouthed kisses over her quivering flesh, torturing the succulent tips of her beasts with his tongue and teeth.
 
Just when she thought she had felt the ultimate thrill, he pressed hot kisses to her stomach.
 
She tensed as the trail of fire continued downward along one thigh then up the other.

She nearly lost the ability to think when he shifted slightly and lifted her knees, parting them.
 
Her first inclination was she clamp her thighs tightly together, but his broad shoulders prevented her from doing so.
 
Then he lowered his head and pressed a hot kiss to her damp curls.
 
His kiss drove her wild.
 
Then he licked her.
 
And sucked her.
 
She was dying.
 
Mindless, she threshed beneath him; the heavy weight of his forearm kept her from leaping up.
 
He sent her a wicked smile as his hand slid beneath her bottom and lifted her into the hot cavern of his mouth.

She felt her blood boil; fire erupted under her skin as his lips and tongue wove their magic, until her bones turned liquid and her nerves shattered.
 
Until she was panting and crying, her need a driving force within her.
 
She was so hot, so needy, so ready to experience the next step of her journey into erotic pleasure.
 
Dragging in a tight breath she waited.

And waited.

He drew back, leaving her dangling by a thin thread.
 
She clutched his shoulders.

"Rafe!"

"You're almost ready, sweetheart."

"Almost?" she squeaked.
 
What more could there be?

His hands closed over her breasts, kneading them, weighing them in his hands as his gaze roamed freely over her naked body.
 
Angela felt herself blush.
 
She never knew.
 
No one had ever told her it would be like this.

Then his hand found her, opening her.
 
She squirmed, embarrassed by his close scrutiny.

"You're so small," he said, sliding a finger inside her.
 
"I don't want to hurt you but it can't be helped.
 
Open for me, Angel."

He positioned himself over her.
 
She felt his sex prodding between the legs.
 
She stiffened, her gaze riveted to that place where they were joined.

"Look at me.
 
Don't look down."

Her eyes lifted to his face.
 
His expression was tense, his teeth clamped tightly together.
 
Then she felt his first tentative surge into her tight passage.
 
He couldn't have been inside her very far but the pressure of his entry left her feeling breathless and ragged inside.

"Are you all right?"

Unable to speak, she nodded; she had no intention of asking him to stop.
 
Then a tidal wave of flame was bearing down inside her.
 
She had to escape the devouring inferno, then it was too late.
 
Rafe flexed his hips and broke through her maidenhead.
 
A scream rose up from her throat.
 
He caught it in his mouth, holding himself still until she grew accustomed to him.
 
Then he moved.

There was still some pain, but it was quickly forgotten as his slow, confident strokes produced something far more pleasant inside her.
 
Her body tingled.
 
Her nerve endings sizzled.
 
Those feelings he had produced with his mouth and tongue intensified as his hands cupped her bottom, raising her so she could take him more fully.

Angela groaned.
 
Something tantalizing dangled just out of reach.
 
She strained toward it, panting, writing beneath him like a madwoman.
 
Poignant, piercing pleasure seized her and wouldn't let go.

"That's it, sweetheart," Rafe gasped against her mouth.
 
"You're almost there.
 
Come to me, sweet baby, come."

Suddenly Rafe held a wildcat in his arms.
 
She was fire and fury.
 
Desire and need.
 
She was wanton innocence.
 
All that and more combined in one delectable body.
 
He felt her stiffen, felt the tremors begin where they were joined.
 
Her volatile explosion surprised him, but he should have known his Angel didn't do anything by halves.
 
It was all or nothing.

Then coherent thought fled as he unleashed the full force of his own passion.
 
He convulsed and shattered as unspeakable bliss pounded through him.

Much later, after his wits returned, he looked down and met her gaze.
 
Her eyes were still clouded, unable to focus.
 
He grinned at her as he pulled out and rolled to her side.

"I've been itching to sink into you since the moment the Reverend pronounced us husband and wife.
 
I've been aroused virtually since the moment I heard you singing."
 
He sighed.
 
"If only things were different."

"But they're not, are they, Rafe?"

"Sadly, no.
 
We both know I must leave soon.
 
I'll want to be gone before the law comes knocking at the door."

"I wish...
 
If you're not guilty you should stay and prove your innocence.
 
I'll help, Rafe."

He shook his head.
 
"Wishes don't count.
 
Western law leaves much to be desired.
 
Maybe if I hadn't run in the beginning it would be easier to prove my innocence now.
 
But I can't undo what happened.
 
I have to leave, Angel.
 
I don't want you involved in all this."

"If you leave now, I have no choice but to believe you truly are an outlaw."

Rafe shot to his feet.
 
"Come on, I'll take you back to the mine.
 
I won't make a decision until later."

They dressed in silence.
 
More than anything Rafe wanted to stay with Angel.
 
Perhaps, if there was a God, He would be kind and let him do what his heart directed.

Rafe didn't leave that day.
 
Or the next, or the next.
 
Though he kept a sharp eye out for the law, no one came to drag him off to jail on trumped up charges.
 
The slim hope existed that the sheriff hadn't connected him with the Rafe Gentry in the poster.

No matter how desperately he wanted to make love to Angel again, he felt it best not to further complicate their situation.
 
She probably hadn't become pregnant from their first encounter and he didn't trust himself to practice control should he make love to her again.
 
He couldn't be sure how long fate would smile on him and he didn't want to leave Angel with a child to care for while he was a fugitive from the law.

Each time Angel looked at him he could see doubt in her eyes, and it nearly killed him.
 
How could she believe him an outlaw, a killer?
 
He'd hoped by staying he might change that look in her eyes from suspicion to trust.
 
Truth be told, he didn't blame her for being suspicious.
 
Perhaps one day he would prove to her that he was no outlaw.

Angela felt the pressure of Rafe's daunting presence.
 
She knew that letting him love her had been a terrible mistake, but at the time she had wanted it desperately.
 
If she hadn't been so darn inexperienced she would have known how to resist his sexual allure.
 
What she couldn't understand was his aloofness since their tryst in the forest.
 
It was almost as if they hadn't become intimate.
 
Did he regret it?
 
The fact that he hadn't left her seemed to disprove that theory.

Each day Angela wondered if it would be the last she would see of Rafe.
 
A week passed.
 
Rafe still prowled around the mine but had turned up nothing concrete to prove or disprove Baxter's claim that it had played out.
 
Angela eagerly awaited the arrival of the expert from Denver to clear up the matter once and for all.

Meanwhile, they went on as they had before they had made love.
 
Two strangers sharing a cabin.
 
But Angela remembered.
 
Oh, God, she remembered!

Desmond Dexter returned to Canyon City, eager to impart the wealth of information he'd learned from Ordway's sheriff.
 
He found Chandler at the Nugget Saloon and took him to a table in the corner where they couldn't be overheard.

"What did you find out?" Chandler anxiously asked.
 
"Took you long enough."

"The trip was well worth my time," Dexter crowed.

"Spit it out, Dexter.
 
Is Angela legally married to Gentry or not?"