Authors: Connie Mason
“Where are you going to sleep?”
Casey’s gaze settled on the empty spot beside Belle on the bed.
“Oh, no,” Belle protested. “I don’t trust you.”
“You’ve made that abundantly clear. Nevertheless, I’m tired. I’ve had a busy day and an even busier one awaits me tomorrow. We can share the bed. You’re too weak for me to molest When we make love again I want you fully awake to enjoy what I do to you.”
He plopped down on the side of the bed and Belle scooted as close to the opposite edge as she could get without falling off. When Casey pulled off his boots and stood to shed his pants and shirt, she deliberately looked away. The mattress dipped and Belle heard the covers rustle and felt him settle down beside her. She held her breath, fearful of what would happen next, knowing that she didn’t have the strength to resist him. Then he started snoring softly and she allowed herself to breathe again. Moments later she joined him in slumber.
Shortly before dawn the mist grew heavier, wrapping the night in a chilling embrace. Fog curled through the open window of Casey’s room, enveloping the occupants in bone-numbing dampness. Belle shivered in her sleep and unconsciously sought Casey’s warmth, snuggling against his back and twining her legs with his. Her warm little body tempted Casey from sleep, luring him into a dreamlike state where fantasy nudged aside reality. Casey’s body instinctively reacted to the knowledge
that the woman he craved above all others was cuddled warmly against him.
He turned to embrace her, pulling her flush against him, her head resting in the crook of his neck. He inhaled deeply, savoring the sweet scent of her flesh. If he was dreaming he never wanted to awaken. Her body fit his like a glove. Inadvertently his hand brushed her breast and a breathless little sigh slid past her lips. When he tried to remove his hand, instinctively she sought it again, thrusting her breast impudently into his palm. He squeezed gently and heard her sigh again.
Casey was wide awake now, and fully aroused. He tried to ignore his pulsing erection but with Belle’s body molded against his he could think of nothing but thrusting himself between her sweet thighs. He had every intention of pulling away and letting her sleep. Instead he raised on his elbows and allowed his fingers to glide over her cheeks and caress her lips. He ached to kiss her, just once, then he’d leave her alone. He leaned toward her and lowered his head, brushing her lips with the gentlest of kisses. His tongue slid along her bottom lip and he felt it tremble.
His mouth settled over hers in a light caress. He would end it soon, he told himself. Then he felt her lips part under his and her fingers slide into his hair, urging him closer, and the feather-light touch of her tongue as it mated with his.
He loved the way her body arched sharply upward to meet his, the way her round, ripe breasts pushed into his chest. She tasted of sunshine and sweetness. Her skin felt smooth as satin beneath his fingertips. Casey growled low in his throat as his control slowly eroded.
Belle was having the most erotic dream. Her body tingled and burned. Her breasts felt swollen and heavy, her nipples distended and tender. Her mouth was filled with the heat and taste of … Casey! Oh, God, was she sleeping or awake? When she felt the roughness of Casey’s tongue mating with hers she knew this was no dream. He whispered her name and Belle felt her world spinning out of control.
“Casey, don’t,” Belle gasped. “You promised.” She was acutely aware of his body, hard and aroused and urgently pressing against hers. “Don’t,” she repeated, not completely sure she meant it.
“Don’t make me stop,” Casey pleaded hoarsely. He filled his hands with her breasts, caressing them, working the peaks until they pebbled. He kissed her again, this time with all the longing that had been building inside him.
“I hate you, Casey.” She kissed him back, making a mockery of her words. “I don’t trust you.”
He kissed her harder, deeper, his hands sliding down between her legs to caress her there.
Her small fingers sifted through the hair on his chest. He could feel her trembling, feel the heat of her body, and went crazy with wanting. He couldn’t stop her now if his life depended upon it. She wanted him as much as he wanted her.
“Don’t fight this, Belle. Trust me. I want to love you.”
Then he was kissing her eyes, her nose, her cheeks, finally taking her mouth again and plunging his tongue inside. His hands grasped her buttocks, cupping them, kneading them, setting her aflame with his passion. His fingers probed her sweet sheath. Shivers sped through her body and a fever roared through her blood.
It was difficult to move, to think, trembling as she was. “Casey, you’re too experienced for me. You could make a piece of wood want you. Please stop.”
“I’m not making love to a piece of wood, love. It’s you I want, and you want me, too. Open your legs, I want to come inside you.”
Desire crested, became consuming. She moaned against his hungry, voracious lips, unable to deny him. Her legs parted slightly and he knelt between them, pushing them wide as he settled atop her. His fingers teased her, thrusting into the slickness of her desire, the heat of his touch kindling the fire inside her. Instinctively she arched against his hand, yearning for more than he was giving her, and hating herself for letting him use her again.
Then he was lifting her, pressing inside her, the heavy weight of his sex filling her with mindless pleasure. Even as she deplored her wanton response to a man she couldn’t trust, she grasped his buttocks and urged him toward the core of her, grinding her hips against his.
He drove into her again and again. It was fever, madness, and wanting. And something more. Something so precious it defied words. His face was contorted with terrible need, his cheeks hollow, his eyes dark and hungry. He took and took and yet he gave.
Caught up in a whirlwind of passion, Belle arched upward, her nails digging into his shoulders as the fever rose to an unbearable pitch, and then she exploded in climax. Sharp, volatile, debilitating. Lost in a haze of intense rapture, Casey shouted out his own climax in a fiery torrent of sensation.
She lay there beneath him, her arms holding him tightly, feeling him shudder as he poured himself
into her. An eternity later he moved off her and held her close. Several more minutes passed before his breath steadied enough for him to speak again.
“Are you all right? I don’t know what got into me. I’m not usually that rough. We’re explosive together, Belle.” He turned to kiss her and tasted salt. “Are you crying? I
did
hurt you.” Remorse colored his words.
Belle shook her head. “You didn’t hurt me. I’m angry and disgusted with myself. You touch me and I become a slave to your passion. My body embraces yours while my mind rejects you utterly. I’m so ashamed. You cost me my son.”
“Your mind doesn’t reject me, love. Deep down you know I wouldn’t hurt you or Tommy.”
Belle wanted to believe Casey, but she couldn’t forget the underhanded way in which Tommy had been taken. He was abducted while Casey kept her occupied in his bed. “I know nothing of the sort. I can’t help the way my body responds to yours. Trusting you isn’t nearly as easy as responding to you sexually.”
“It would be if you let yourself believe. I care for you, Belle.”
“Don’t. Don’t say anything you don’t mean. I can’t bear it.”
“I’m going to restore Tommy to you, I swear it.”
Belle closed her eyes against the pain. Only a miracle would give her back her son. McAllister was against her, the law was against her; was there no justice in this world? Nothing had ever been easy for her. Meeting Naomi, loving Tom, and having Tommy had been the memorable highlights of her otherwise troubled life. From childhood to adulthood her life had been difficult. She had desperately
needed to trust someone, and she briefly thought she had found that someone in Casey.
And she needed someone to love, someone who would love her back.
“If you were able to get Tommy away from his grandfather, then I might be able to trust you again, Casey.”
“It’s not going to be easy, but I’ve already started working on it. Just believe in me, Belle, that’s all I ask.”
She couldn’t, not yet, maybe never. But it was comforting to be held in his arms, especially after the way those despicable men had terrorized her. If not for Casey, she might be dead now. Of her own free will her arms slid around his waist, tightening around him. If she could forget Casey’s betrayal, she would take joy in this night. She would savor the closeness of Casey’s hard body, his kisses, his hands and mouth arousing her, loving her.
Unaware of her confused thoughts, Casey pressed her closer, wanting her again, needing her. When he moved on top of her she moaned in acceptance, and when he kissed her she opened her mouth to the thrusting of his tongue. He came into her with one deep plunge. Solid, hard, full. He began moving in and out of her, deeply, frantically, riding her hard and deep, one pounding thrust after another. Sensation after sensation tore through her, hurling her into a chasm of blinding pleasure, and when she reached that climactic pinnacle, she called out his name.
She felt him go rigid, felt his seed pumping into her body, and then he went limp. Afterward, he pulled her into the curve of his body and went to sleep.
* * *
Casey awoke to find Belle gone. He leapt out of bed, cursing himself for having overslept. The sun was high in the sky and the waterfront was a beehive of activity. He wanted to rush after Belle but had no idea what he would say. He’d already bared his heart to her, made promises he wasn’t certain he could fulfill, and there was nothing more to say. Action spoke louder than words and he hoped that making love to Belle last night demonstrated how deeply he cared for her.
When he finished his investigation of McAllister he’d be in a better position to make demands. And his first demand would be to allow Belle full or partial custody of her son. Until that day arrived, Belle would continue to close her mind to him even if she couldn’t shut down her body’s reaction to his loving.
Casey left the inn, intending to resume his search for incriminating evidence through dusty records in city hall. When he approached the telegraph office he ducked inside, inquiring if a telegram had arrived for him from Simon Levy. He had wired the lawyer upon his return to San Francisco and was expecting a reply. He worried excessively about Mark, and as soon as this mess with Belle and Tommy was resolved he intended to return to Arizona and renew his efforts on his brother’s behalf.
A telegram had indeed arrived for Casey. And it was good news. At long last the missing witness had been found and Casey was needed in Yuma. Mark had been granted a new trial and Casey had two weeks in which to reach Arizona. He cursed fervently and hurried off to make arrangements for an immediate departure. The thought of leaving Belle when she needed him most tore him apart. Last night he had told Belle he cared for her, and he was just now
beginning to realize that his feelings went deeper than mere caring. He loved Belle, and he loved Tommy. He wanted to be a part of their lives forever.
But until his brother walked out of Yuma Prison a free man he couldn’t think about a future with Belle. Oh, God, it was so difficult, so damn painful. He was being pulled in different directions. His heart was pulling him one way and duty the other. As soon as Mark was acquitted, he vowed to return to San Francisco and keep his promise to Belle.
Belle packed her meager belongings and checked out of the hotel. The expense was draining her scant resources and she needed every penny she had saved to fight McAllister. She knew Naomi’s house was always open to her, and decided to accept Naomi’s offer to move back to the Pleasure Parlor.
Naomi greeted her with relief. Then she saw the dark swelling on Belle’s face and paled. “My God, what happened to you?” She wrung her hands in dismay. “I was so worried, honey. The moment you left here yesterday I knew you were headed for trouble. But there was no dissuading you. I hope you’re not mad because I told Casey Walker.”
Wan Yo appeared then and took her suitcase, looking as pleased to see Belle as Naomi was. “Wan Yo worried, Missy Belle.” He studied her bruised face and scowled.
“I’m fine, Wan Yo,” Belle assured him. “Take my suitcase up to my old room, please. I hope you don’t mind my moving back in here,” she said to Naomi.
“You know better than that. What about the rest of your things?”
“The hotel is sending them over.” She settled
down on the sofa with Naomi. Most of the girls were still sleeping, so they had the parlor to themselves. “About Casey, Naomi, you did the right thing. I did get myself into trouble. Thank God Casey arrived in time.”
“Did you two make up?”
Belle flushed and looked away. “Not exactly. I don’t know if I will ever trust him again.”
“Wan Yo told me you were in Casey’s room the night Tommy was abducted. Does that mean what I’m thinking?”
“Casey used me, Naomi, and like a fool I fell for his lies. I thought he cared for me.”
“Maybe he does. Why is it so difficult to believe he didn’t lead McAllister to Tommy?”
“Casey was in McAllister’s employ. He was paid to locate my son. Tommy was abducted while I was …” her voice quivered, “in Casey’s bed. The facts speak for themselves.”
“Facts aren’t always what they seem. If Casey didn’t care for you, he’d wouldn’t have gone looking for you last night. Tell me what happened. Did you actually go to the waterfront? Who hurt you?”
“I went, all right. I was a naive fool to think I could rely on my own wits. I was nearly raped by two men I encountered in a dockside saloon.” She touched her bruised cheek and winced. “One of them struck me. I don’t really recall what happened, or how Casey found me. I was unconscious and woke up in Casey’s room much later.”
“I’d say you’ve got some serious soul-searching to do, Belle. Wan Yo says Casey has intervened in your behalf more than once since you’ve met. That ought to count for something.”
“I can’t allow myself to become involved with a man, not with Tommy consuming all my thoughts and energies.”