TheSurrenderofLacyMorgan (14 page)

The saloon door swung open, drawing his attention away from
his thoughts. He slid his free hand over the Colt tied to his thigh.

The bartender surreptitiously reached under the bar. Dakota
suspected he kept a shotgun under there. The man had made the same movement
when he’d entered half an hour earlier. The saloon girls shifted farther down
the bar, out of the line of fire. Conversation among the few other patrons—a
couple of cowboys fresh from the trail and a handful of miners playing cards at
one of the tables—stopped while everyone watched the stranger enter.

Sleek.

That’s the word that popped into Dakota’s mind as the
sidewinder entered the bar. He wore his flat-top
vaquero
-style hat low
over his eyes. A thin moustache lined his upper lip and a patch of hair covered
just his chin. Long and lean, in a calf-length duster that Dakota would bet his
lucky twenty-dollar gold piece covered a pair of six-shooters. Sharp-wheeled
spurs on his boots jangled loudly as he strode up to the bar, instantly setting
off Dakota’s inner warning bells.

One hand still on the butt of his gun, Dakota lifted his
glass with the other to sip more whiskey. His movements seemed to signal the
other patrons to return to minding their own business. The card game resumed,
the cowboys went back to eyeing the saloon girls and the bartender eased his
hand off the shotgun.

“Whiskey,” the man ordered.

“Sure thing, mister.” The bartender poured two fingers’
worth into a clean glass. “You staying in town a while or just riding through?”

Same question he’d asked Dakota.

“I’m looking for someone.” The man downed the whiskey in one
gulp, then pointed to his glass again.

The bartender obliged him with a refill. “Anyone in
particular?”

“Woman.” He turned to study the two women at the end of the
bar for a minute, then refocused his attention on his drink. “You got any new
whores in town? One that maybe wears a gold chained necklace?”

Shit.

Lacy. The bastard was looking for Lacy.
Was he a
bounty hunter using the same Wanted poster he and Quinn had? Or was he one of
Devil’s gang trying to find her? Either way, he was trouble they didn’t need
right now.

“No new girls here. Sarah and Becky there’ve been with me
for a few years now. In fact, I can’t say as I’ve seen any new woman wearin’
that kind of necklace in town, ever.”

As if on cue, the women sidled up to the newcomer, flanking
him on both sides and stroking their hands over his chest and arms.

He looked them over. “You girls seen anyone wearing
something like that?”

“No, can’t say as I have.” The too-skinny blonde shook her
head.

“Me neither, sugar,” the older-looking brunette said. “What
you need from her that we can’t give you?”

“You keep your eyes out for the woman wearing that necklace
and I’ll make it worth your while the next time I pass through town.” The
stranger ran a hand down their backs to cup each of their asses.

The women laughed and leaned in to whisper in the man’s ear
before moving over to join the miners at their poker game.

Dakota leaned farther into the shadows as he watched the man
finish his whiskey, toss two coins on the bar, then exit the saloon.

Three minutes, then he’d follow.

Slowly, he finished his own drink. He slipped out of the
corner. A quick nod in the barkeep’s direction and he was out on the street
before any of the other patrons could register his departure.

The hard thud of a bootheel accompanied by the loud jangle
of spur sounded to his left, in the direction of the general store.

Undecided how to handle the man—kill or misdirect him—for
the moment he settled for tracking him. Hell, with the noise the man’s spurs
made, Dakota could be blind and still follow him, no problem.

Years ago, Cap had told him humans were the easiest animals
to track. For supposedly intelligent creatures, men would do the stupidest
things.

“And criminals, Dakota, can be more stupid than cattle in
a snowstorm.”

All Cap’s boys knew cows would starve in a snowstorm rather
than look for grass just beneath the snow.

“The more times a man steals or kills, the easier it gets
for him and the more arrogant he becomes. You give him enough lead rope and
he’ll trip himself with carelessness every time.”

“Then what do I do?”

“That, boy, is when you bring him to justice. A polecat
will always show his stripes. Our job is to see that no innocent people die in
the meantime.”

The stranger stopped at the mercantile, its interior still
lit against the darkness. Apparently the storekeep hadn’t yet closed up for the
night. Light poured onto the street as the man entered.

Dakota eased up to the edge of the window and peered inside.

The man spoke easily with the storekeep, who smiled, nodded
and began setting items on the counter. Supplies for the trail. A woman stepped
out of the back room, followed by two small children. The stranger turned to
talk with her.

Okay. He couldn’t risk a fight with the man here. Too many
innocents could get caught in the crossfire. Misdirection was his only choice.

Decision made, he covered his weapon and his badge with his
coat, then stepped into the mercantile.

* * * * *

The light from the fireplace cast the bedroom in a warm
glow. The smoky, cedarwood scent from the fire and the faint lavender wafting
from Lacy’s soft clean skin mixed for a heady aphrodisiac effect. If possible,
the combination surged more blood to his already aching erection.

What he wouldn’t give to just roll her up on to her hands
and knees and bury his cock deep in her soft, wet pussy.

But he knew even without her proclamation that she’d never
been with a man in a bed that he couldn’t take advantage of her sensuality like
that. She was nowhere near ready to be mounted in such a rough way.

No, he needed her to come willingly to him, for his use. He
needed her to trust him above all else. Out on the trail a plan had formed in
his mind, one that depended on her absolute trust, trust without question.
Until he had it, he couldn’t risk taking her back into Devil’s den.

He caressed her cheek, sliding his hand down over her jaw to
rest on the gold lace collar.

“Do you know what this is?”

“It’s a slave’s collar. My mother’s mother received it from
her owner when he took her to New Orleans to live. It’s the only thing I have of
my mama’s.”

“It’s a special kind of collar, darlin’. One a dominant
master gives his sexual slave. Obviously, your grandmother held a special place
in his heart and mind.”

She reached a hand up behind her neck. He captured it to
still her movements.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking it off.”

“Don’t.”

“I’m not a slave, Quinn. Not to you, not to Devil, not to
any man.” Determination deepened the jade green of her eyes.

“And this doesn’t make you one either.” He released her hand
to run his fingers over the metal warmed by the heat of her skin. “What it
shows is how much you loved your mama and understand where you came from.”

“Devil said it showed every man that Mama belonged to him.”
A tear rolled down her cheek. “I hated him for saying that. And I hated Mama for
letting him believe that. She didn’t deserve to be treated like that, not by
him or any other man. It broke my heart.”

“You’re right. Wearing the necklace honors your heritage and
your mother, it doesn’t make you anyone’s property.” He traced the golden
strands then trailed his hand down over her uninjured shoulder and chest to cup
her breast. “Just like sharing the pleasure of your body doesn’t mean you
belong to any man.”

He rolled the nipple between his finger and thumb, then gave
it a firm tug.

Her response was immediate. “Yes,” she gasped and arched her
back.

“That’s it, kitten. Purr for me.” He worked first one nipple
then the other, applying increasing tension until her moans of pleasure
followed each gasp of pain. Her body writhed beside him and she parted her
thighs, knees slightly bent.

“Mmm, I love hearing your passion, darlin’.” He lowered his
lips to claim hers mid-gasp. The fine tremors of her moans vibrating against
his tongue sent desire hot and scorching through his own body.

At the same time he crushed her lips beneath his, he slid
his hand between her thighs, delving between the fine hairs lightly covering
her sex. Dewy heat met his fingertips. Parting her folds, he found and rubbed
the nub of flesh at the top of her slit.

Another delicious moan coursed from her depths into his
mouth and down his body. It was too good. If he didn’t take control of his
raging need, he’d come before he even entered her body.

And
that
was something he’d never done. At least not
since he was a boy.

Groaning, he released her mouth and eased away from her.

A moment. That’s what he needed. A moment to tamp down the
desire to roll on top of her and thrust deep. Lacy didn’t deserve to be taken
like a common saloon whore. She deserved pleasure and patience and—

She wrapped her hand around his cock.

Damn.

She started to pump him.

Aw, fuck. Yes!

No!

He grabbed her hand and stilled her movements.

“Am I doing it wrong?” Wariness laced her question. She
wanted to please him. He could hear it in her voice, see it in her face. Just
what he wanted from her. If he didn’t gain some control over her and over his
lust, he’d destroy any progress they’d made.

He held her hand around his cock and throbbed against her
silken palm. “Kitten, you’re doing it perfectly. But I want this to last. If
you keep that up you won’t get to see the surprise I have in store for you.”

“A surprise? I thought we were fucking.”

He pulled her hand away, already wanting to beg her to touch
him again. But this was all about sexual control. His. Over her.

With renewed determination, he turned and sat on the edge of
the bed. “Come here, Lacy,” he commanded, holding a hand out to her.

Bewildered at his sudden withdrawal and the steel control in
his voice, Lacy slid out of the covers. Gooseflesh covered her body as she
walked naked from the bed and slipped her hand in his.

He pulled her around to stand in front of him.

Firelight shone on the hard muscled planes of his chest and
ribs, shadows etching the hard angles in relief. He was a living statue of male
sexuality. The musky male scent of him mixed with the lavender water from their
shared bath, enticing her to touch and savor him. His hard erection pressing
against his stomach caused her own sex to swell with the need to mate with this
man—to hold his hard strength deep inside her.

Perched between his widespread, muscular thighs, she swayed
slightly. He caught her hips in his hands to steady her then he slowly turned
her away from him toward the oval-shaped standing mirror facing the bed.
Pressure from his hands brought her into a kneeling position in front of him.

“No. Please,” she whispered, bringing her hand up to cover
her sex and her other arm over her breasts.

“Don’t,” he commanded, his breath caressing her shoulder.

She looked up to meet his gaze in the mirror just over her
shoulder. The crystal blue of his eyes seared her with their desire.

“Show me all of you, darlin’.”

Suddenly, pleasing him was as important as taking her next
breath. She lowered her hands to her side.

Intensity flared inside his eyes and their blue heat flamed
even hotter.

“God, you are a goddess.”

His praise heated her flesh as much as his sensual gaze.

“See how sensual your body is?”

Drawn by his words, she stared at the woman in the mirror
and the man seated on the bed behind her. Mesmerized by the scene in front of
her, she watched as the man slid his hands over the woman’s shoulders then down
to cup her heavy breasts.

“You were made for seducing a man,” he whispered as his
fingers pinched her dark nipples.

She inhaled deeply. The movement pulled her breasts away as
he held her by the points, sending little frissons of awareness across her
nerves. He repeated the action and she moaned, delighting in the heat swelling
between her thighs.

“You like the pain just a little bit, don’t you?” he
chuckled.

“It feels too good,” she whispered.

He tweaked her nipples harder.

“Oh please…” she gasped.

“More?”

“Yes.” She saw the sweet torture on her face in the mirror
and she wanted more.

“Beg for it, pet.”

She couldn’t.

His eyes said she could.

“Please, pinch them more.”

His teeth grasped her earlobe at the same time he twisted
both nipples and held them taut.

Fine tremors started in her breasts and ran through her
whole body. “Oh…yes…so…good.” She gripped his thighs in her hands to keep from
falling with the pleasure.

He released his grip, smoothed his palms around her breasts
and licked where he’d bitten her ear. “I love how responsive you are to my
simplest command.”

Before she could protest, he slid his hands down her sides
to her thighs. Parting them, he lifted her to sit on his lap.

“Watch the woman in the mirror, darlin’. Isn’t she
beautiful? She’s made for pleasure.” As he spoke he moved his hands up the soft
skin of her inner thighs, sending more tremors skittering over her senses.

“See her mouth parted with need? And the long curve of her
neck as she rests her head back on her lover’s shoulder?” His hands traveled
farther up her thigh, opening her wide to the mirror. “And her breasts—full,
heavy, the tips begging for more attention.”

Lacy arched her back, rocking her bottom against the full
hard length of him pressed between her ass cheeks—his words as much a
stimulation as the delicious things his fingers were doing to her inner thighs.
Anticipation of those fingers touching her hot sex made her purr.