Stagecoach Capture Read online

  Decisiveness. An admirable quality. He chuckled and grazed his knuckles the length of her cheek, releasing his hold on her hair. “You'll love this.” Trailing one hand over her shoulder and down to her elbow, he eased her second arm over her head and snapped the steel cuff closed. He eased his body onto the mattress.

  Her body stiffened. “What's this?"

  “A test of control.” His voice was pitched low and he studied her expression to make sure she wasn't panicked. Seeing her steady gaze, he ran his fingertips along the inside of her wrist to the crook of her elbow. “I want to touch you all over."

  Jazzy bit her lower lip and squirmed. “Really?"

  He moved his fingers along her arm, enjoying the smoothness. Up and over her shoulder, along her collarbone before he dipped into the hollow of her throat.

  The mattress shifted from her fidgety movements. A sigh escaped her lips.

  “You like that?"

  “Oh, yes.” Her words puffed out.

  His blood thrummed in his ears and he had to take a deep breath before continuing. “What about this?” He skimmed his fingers down her chest and ran them along the skin at the upper edge of her corset. His pointer delved into the valley between her breasts and heated from her warm skin.

  She arched off the mattress and the cuffs clanked against the headboard. “Slade, I want more."

  Those three words shattered his restraint. Because he couldn't get enough of her, he spread his fingers across her bare back, savoring her skin's silkiness. Angling his body, he eased her backwards until she again laid flat on the mattress, arms awkwardly raised over her head.

  “Slade, I need both hands. Please undo the handcuffs ... my warrior chief.” She batted her eyelashes and grinned.

  One glance at her awkward position and her captured hands, hands that wouldn't be touching his skin, drove his decision. He dug the key out of his trouser pocket and unlocked the handcuffs, letting them fall to the rug. Then he set to kissing her cheek, her jaw, her earlobes, her neck. Every spot his lips touched smelled spicy like her and aroused him more. Her reason for allowing such liberties nagged at his thoughts, but he pushed it away.

  He needed this night, he wanted this encounter. Since she was obviously willing, he intended to enjoy his fill of what this surprising woman offered his lonely self.

  He kissed his way down to the tops of her breasts, taking time to enjoy each inch of skin he could reach, but was blocked from his goal by the stiff edges of her corset. He lifted his head and whispered, “Roll to your side."

  “Hmmm?” Her eyes were closed and one hand played with the hair that curled around his ear.

  “I need to untie your corset."

  Her head lifted off the bed. When she looked at him, confusion clouded her expression. “You're really going to undress me?"

  His heart rate slowed and he bit back a groan. Now was not the time for her to play innocent and coy. “Yeah, more fun with fewer clothes."

  With languid movements, she shifted her hips and rolled, cradling her head in the crook of her elbow. “But I can't reach you."

  She sounded like she was enjoying this as much as he was. He tugged on the laces, hoping he wouldn't rip the fabric in his haste to get this confining garment off her sweet body. “Sit up a second. Raise your arms and I'll slide this over your head."

  She obliged, and the moment the corset passed her elbows, she sighed deeply.

  He tossed it behind him and, an instant later, her thin chemise was gone, revealing the pale skin of her back. He rested his hands on her creamy shoulders, tracing the angles of her bones with his thumbs. Red pressure spots marked her skin and he bent his head to trace the lines running across her back with soothing kisses.

  She arched and reached back to run her hands along his sides with stroking caresses.

  Instinct surfaced. Slade flinched at the sensations of a touch so near where his gun usually rested. He forced himself to relax and enjoy her gentle touch. Scooting closer, he dropped kisses on her nape, then reached around to her breasts and let their weight fill his hands. His thumbs massaged a path from the sides of her breasts almost to their tips, but stopped just shy of the nipple.

  She leaned against his chest and rested her hands on his thighs. “I like this position."

  “Me too, Jessimay."

  “You can call me, Jazzy."

  A nickname? Didn't sound like one a family member would bestow. The part of his brain that still worked like a lawman's tucked away this new information. “Jazzy. It fits.” His thumbs retraced the path, this time moving closer.

  “Oooh, that's nice.” She dropped her shoulder as if trying to rub herself against his questing thumb. Her hands ran up and down his thighs.

  To put them both out of their misery, he flicked her nipples with the tips of his thumbs and reveled when they tightened into hard beads. He shifted his hands and rolled the tips between his fingers, enjoying the sensation of her warm breasts cupped in his hands.

  She stiffened and her hands clamped hard onto his thighs. “Oh, yes. Harder."

  Her response fired his blood and his cock strained against the fly of his trousers. By stretching out his leg, he scooted closer and pressed his erection against her hip. But it wasn't enough. He had to touch and taste more of her. He planted a kiss where her neck and shoulder met, his tongue laving her sweet skin. The urge to brand this woman as his own swept through him and he sucked harder.

  Jazzy squirmed in his embrace, her head rolling on his shoulder.

  Slade raised his head, an apology already forming on his lips.

  She turned and knelt in the vee of his legs, golden curls tumbled over her shoulders. Luminous eyes connected with his, while her hands moved toward the buttons of his pants. “My turn to undress you."

  Content to simply watch, he leaned back on his hands and gave her easier access to his trousers. From this position, he enjoyed the sight of the rosy tips of her nipples peeking through the fall of her hair.

  Her fingertips tracing the band of his trousers tickled his stomach. With each released button, her hands moved lower, brushing against his engorged member.

  He drew in a deep breath and gritted his teeth, trying to imagine each caress as accidental. Because if he didn't, he'd have to admit how close he was to losing control. A self-control that hadn't wavered in years.

  When the last button was undone, she trailed a single finger from his balls to the tip of his cock, then winked. “Impressive."

  A groan rumbled from deep in his chest and he drew her down on top of him into a tight embrace. Her plump breasts crushed into his chest and he couldn't deny how right their bodies felt together. With gazes locked on each other, they used their hands to caress exposed skin, teasing each other to a feverish pitch.

  “Whoooeee!” She broke away and rolled off him, the bed frame creaking with the movement. She jumped from the bed and reached toward his feet, yanking the hems of his trousers until they started to slide down his hips.

  The pull of the fabric against his engorged cock inflamed him more. To keep himself from exploding, he eased himself up, balancing on elbows and heels.

  In only a few moments, she'd stripped off his clothes and stretched out next to him. Her hand moved in a circle over his chest and stomach. “Isn't that better?"

  He kissed her nose. “Much."

  As if they'd been together before, they snuggled into position, her softness fitting perfectly against his hard angles, her lively spirit filling the hollow insides of a solitary man.

  With an intent born of pure need, Slade ran his hand over her breast, toying with the nipple until she sighed, then ran his palm over her stomach to the waistband of her pantaloons. He slipped lower and probed the slit in her drawers until he felt the springy curls covering her mound.

  She stiffened in his arms, a resisting hand pressed hard against his chest. “You don't have to do that."

  “Jazzy, I've got to touch you.” Dropping kisses on her shoulder, he eased his hand d
ownward so his fingers could delve into her silky folds. Deep in his chest, a knot loosened, one he hadn't known was there. With each stroke along her moist, womanly lips, he felt her body relax.

  At the same time, his own tightened. With aching need. The raw need to be inside her.

  He pressed one finger into her honeyed channel and back out. Then again, deeper this time.

  Her breathing quickened and her hips angled upward, as if following his hand. “Oh, Slade, don't stop."

  He rubbed a knuckle around the bud of her womanhood and felt it swell under his touch. His penis throbbed in response and a fullness settled in his groin. With swift movements, he probed her channel, first with one finger, then with two and massaged her bud with the pad of his thumb.

  Her hips bucked swiveled under his hand and she drew up a leg close to her bottom to brace a foot on the springy mattress. As she lifted her hips, she rotated them and pressed against his hand.

  Slade kept up with her movements and dropped kisses on whatever bare skin he could reach, his own skin warming as he pleasured her body.

  “Oooh, I'm on fire.” Jazzy's head tossed from side to side and her hand reached up to caress her own nipple, plucking at the bud with an increased tempo. “Help me, Slade."

  The confusion in her voice didn't match the unashamed way she touched herself. But Slade was too busy concentrating on her arousing body to contemplate that question. He scooted down a few inches and kissed his way from the rounded top of her breast to its rigid peak. His tongue swirled around the tip and he blew on it, enjoying how it puckered at his touch.

  Jazzy grabbed the back of his head and held him in place. A throaty moan escaped.

  His tongue flicked across her taut nipple, making it bead tighter. Then he drew it into his mouth and continued swirling his tongue around the tight bud. The strokes of his tongue matched those of his fingers. His own need raged and he pressed his erection against her hip.

  “Slade!” Jazzy cried out at the same moment she clamped a hand onto his shoulder and jerked her hips.

  From deep inside came waves of her completion, as dewy drops of her ecstasy dripped along his fingers, but he kept massaging her bud until she relaxed. When she lay limp in his arms, he gently brushed the damp tendrils of hair off her forehead and cheeks.

  She turned her head and looked up, specks of flickering lamplight reflecting in her shining eyes. “Your hands are truly wonders of nature."

  Was that awe he detected in her voice? How could that be?

  She shifted and let her hand trail down his side and caress his hip. “You certainly are a patient man.” Her fingers ran his rigid length and back to circle the head, stroking with gentle touches.

  He hissed out a breath. “For good reason."

  Her soft hand encircled his cock and started a sensual massage, alternately cupping and rolling his balls in her palm. Her thumb rubbed the underside, while her fingers rippled along his sensitive shaft.

  All rational thoughts fled and his body acted purely on instinct. Possess and claim. He pushed off the mattress enough to untie her pantaloons and strip them down her legs. Finally, he could look at her body in all its exquisite naked glory. But he was past the point of gazing—he had to have her. “Jazzy, I need to be in you."

  She smiled and held up her arms. “Take me, my warrior."

  With his knee, he nudged her legs apart and eased close to her opening. The head of his rod probed her cleft and entered slowly. Seeing his cock disappearing into her nest of wet blonde curls excited him further. He wanted to savor the experience of their bodies coming together, but the sensations were too strong.

  A single, deep stroke and he was home. “Ah, my princess.” He felt warmth spread from the inside of his body to the edges of his skin. A warmth that ran deeper than the action on this mattress. Being one with this woman felt so right.

  Withdrawal to her opening and then thrust inside again. Deep and hard.

  “Yes!” Jazzy arched and the tips of her breasts brushed his chest. Her legs wrapped around him and she moved her hips from side to side against his groin, increasing the friction.

  They moved in rhythm, caressing bare skin, nibbling at hot flesh and racing the other to the finish. Slade heard only a pounding in his ears and thrust deeper and faster, straining to stay in control until Jazzy caught up. But when she raised her head close to his chest and licked his nipple, he lost it.

  One hand clamped onto her hip, he pushed himself as deep as he could go and thrust once more, exhaling a loud groan as his seed pumped inside Jazzy.

  From deep within, her body clamped him tightly, milking his rigid cock, and her cry of pleasure echoed his.

  He slumped over her body, breathing heavily onto her neck, waiting for his blood to slow its racing.

  Within moments, he felt her fingers making lazy trails up and down his back. He grunted and tried to lean some of his weight on an elbow, barely able to lift his head high enough to look at her.

  Her eyes flashed and a wicked smile covered her saucy lips. “That was great. What shall we pretend now?"

  * * *

  CHAPTER 4

  Jazzy fought against the sting building behind her eyes. Never had a man paid attention to her needs. She'd always been the one to worry about the customers getting their money's worth. Movements she used had always been one of several routines. Even the words she'd spoken just now sounded rehearsed to her own ears.

  But not tonight. This was exciting and unusual, and she aimed to enjoy it while it lasted. She aligned her body alongside his hip and ran her fingers up his thigh, leaving a trail of twitching muscle. This big, strong man was reacting to her simple touch, and he wasn't even paying for the privilege of being naked in the bed with her. “Now you just relax. My turn for a little fun."

  She slid from the sheets, grabbed the coverlet from the foot of the bed, and swathed her body. The cloth covered her from breasts to toes, cinched in place by her arms held close to her side. When she turned back to Slade, she dipped her chin and only looked at him through downcast lashes.

  “I present myself to you, sir. My name is Aileana and I was sent here by my father, Laird of McShane."

  Slade's black hair and dark brown eyes reminded her of a fierce Scottish hero she'd read about in The Young Ladies Journal. Reading adventure stories in the dime novels had been a favorite way to pass an idle afternoon at Miss Veronica's.

  Slade raised his head and looked at her with wrinkled brows. “Jazzy, what are you..."

  A fluttering settled in her stomach. Would he think this playacting was too silly? Or would he play along like before?

  She tossed her hair over her shoulder and smiled. “Sir, my name is Aileana.” She stepped next to the bed and dipped a shallow curtsy. “I believe my father's steward delivered the bride price earlier today. The contract has been struck.” She'd read this once in a novel and thought the situation sounded romantic. Two strangers forced into an intimacy that neither sought, but one which must be lived.

  “Bride price? What the devil—” A light flashed in his eyes and he nodded. “Ah, the steward from Castle McShane. Now I remember.” A slow grin spread across his lips and he rubbed his jaw with a cupped hand. “Didn't I negotiate for horses as well?"

  Jazzy thrilled at his acceptance of the role. She kept her chin lowered, making short glances from the sides of her eyes. “I am doing as I was bade. I know nothing of the finances, sir. How may I address you? As Laird MacCallum or by your given name, Logan?"

  “I prefer Mac.” He rolled to his side and supported his head with his hand, the movement pulling the sheet below his waist. Tanned skin and taut muscle rippled above the white cotton.

  Her chin came up and she couldn't tear her gaze away from his muscled abdomen with its sprinkling of wiry, black hair. The memories of his hard body rubbing against hers were too fresh. Anticipation grew, flushing her skin and making her tingle all over. Sudden heat bloomed between her thighs and she pressed them together.

&n
bsp; “Ah, the maiden likes what she sees?” A husky chuckle sounded. “I appreciate that in a woman."

  Caught! She closed her eyes for a moment to help clear her thoughts. Staring was not the proper action of a blushing maiden. How should she act? Too many nights had passed since she'd first come untouched to a man's bed for her to remember. But that might not be the way of this playacting. Her memories of her first time were not pleasant.

  With resolve, she stepped next to the bed and relaxed her arms, letting the cloth unwind. “Does the laird wish to inspect the goods offered in the contract?” Without anchoring, the coverlet's weight slowly dipped lower and teased him with a glimpse of her breasts.

  “I contracted for a blushing bride, but you seem too sure of your actions to still be a maiden."

  She stilled. He was right! She tilted her head and let her hair slide along her cheek, partially obscuring her face. “Aye, my la—Mac. Some may see it that way.” She shrugged and the sheet slipped another inch, one nipple peeking over the edge. “Father spent most of his time with my older brothers and let Nanny Erskina raise my sisters and me as she wished. My nanny trained us all to the ways of the marriage bed."

  “She did?” Slade's hungry gaze followed the coverlet's descent and a muscle jumped in his jaw. “From the steward's description, I thought you'd be taller."

  She sucked in a breath, resisting the urge to stop the playacting. He'd better be kidding because she hated being called short. “I assure you, sir, my height is quite adequate.” With a wriggle of her shoulders, the coverlet fell in a heap at her feet. She slid a knee onto the mattress and leaned forward on her hands, being sure her breasts plumped between her arms. Too many minutes had passed in the talking part. Her hands itched to get to the doing and touching.

  But that wasn't what a maiden would do. “I must rely on you to tell me what you like."

  His expression stiffened, his eyes dark and smoldering, then he flashed her a slow grin. “I like your hands on me."

  That would be easy. She cupped her hands in front of her mouth and blew short breaths on them, then rubbed them briskly until they warmed. With slow movements, she ran her fingers along his shoulder and down his arm to the crook of his elbow. Blocked by the odd angle of his body, she pressed against his shoulder until he dropped back on the mattress.