Authors: Runaway
“I’m not upset,” he said shortly.
“You coulda fooled me.” Cassie tucked the gloves in her back pocket and stepped to her horse’s head, removing the reins from Will’s hand. Pacing at a steady gait, she made a wide circle around Will, speaking soothingly to the animal as she walked, barely acknowledging Will’s presence.
“I was worried.” It was an admission he gave grudgingly, as if he were unwilling to explain his actions.
“I’m old enough to ride down the road without you stewing over me,” Cassie answered, her attention focused
on the mare, who was obviously more interested in her stall than in the cooling-down process Cassie was instigating.
“I didn’t know where you’d gone.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were pouting,” Cassie said archly, a smile barely touching her lips.
“I missed you at the dinner table.”
“I’m a little hungry, now that I think about it,” she said cheerfully. “If you want to put my horse up, I’ll go on in the house and see if there are any leftovers.”
He took the reins from her hand, his callused fingers gripping hers for a moment. “Maybe you’d better take a rest after you eat,” he said gruffly, his gaze on the curve of her bottom where the denim stretched to fit. “I don’t want you to overdo.”
“Everything go all right?” Clara asked in an undertone.
Cassie nodded. “Sheriff Mosley sent you his regards. I told him what I told you and he said he’d wire Loco Junction and ask about it. He said I could come home, and he’d be out to see me as soon as he hears something.”
“Are you worried?”
Cassie shook her head. “No, I’m relieved. I feel like a load’s been taken from me. I stopped to check on Louise and she was complaining that nothing in her wardrobe fits anymore, and she said she’s got feet kicking in every direction. You don’t suppose she’s going to have twins, do you?”
Clara lifted her shoulders and sighed. “Could be. My mama was a twin, and I had twin brothers. Eben may be getting himself two at a time. I’ll bet he’s hopin’ for boys. One, at least.”
Cassie’s fork paused midair. “I wonder what Will is looking for. Do you suppose he’ll be disappointed if I have a girl?”
A deep voice sounded from behind her, where a tall figure stood just outside the screen door. “All Will wants is a healthy baby. I’m not partial to sons. We’ll take whatever we get.”
Cassie spun around, rising from her chair as Will came in the door. “I didn’t know you were out there,” she said, catching her breath. “You startled me.”
He leaned to look past her at the plate she’d abandoned. “You need to clean up your dinner. You’re eatin’ for two, you know.”
“Your mother loaded it up, and I’m just about as full as I’m going to get,” Cassie said firmly. “Between the two of you, I’m going to be too fat to climb out of bed in the mornings before long.”
“Leave her be, Will,” his mother said mildly, heading for the back door with damp dish towels, ready to hang them on the short line she kept strung across the porch.
“Can’t do that,” he said sadly, looking mournfully at his wife. He bent to whisper in Cassie’s ear, softly lest his mother overhear. “I need to see you upstairs for a little while. I’ll let you get away without cleaning your plate if you’ll come quietly.”
Cassie nodded. “All right.” Carrying her plate to the sink, she followed his lead, through the kitchen door and across the hall to the stairs. He walked up almost soundlessly, turning at the top to hold out his hand. She accepted it and was drawn to his side.
Puzzled, she entered their room and watched as he closed and locked the door. “What is it, Will?” He walked toward her, his eyes dark and narrowed, his gait ambling as he approached her side.
“I missed you, Cass. You weren’t here when I came in for dinner, and I got to thinking about what it was like before I found you. I ate my meals alone, for the most part I slept alone, and I was lonesome as hell most of the time.”
“You don’t have to be alone anymore,” she told him, hoping with all her heart that it was the truth. Sheriff Mosley had been encouraging, but even he wasn’t able to make any promises, and she hadn’t expected any.
“I plan on sleepin’ with you the rest of my life,” Will said simply, reaching out to draw her against his long body. “You fit me real good, honey.” His sigh was deep and his smile was winsome as he bent his head to her, his kiss soft and gentle against her mouth.
She reached her arms to circle his neck, standing on tiptoe to better reach him. “I thought I was supposed to be resting after my dinner, Will. If I’m not mistaken, you seem to have other ideas. And what do you think your mother is going to make of this?”
“I believe she’s gone out to the garden,” he said softly. “She’s a pretty smart lady, sweetheart. She probably doesn’t want to hear me scolding you for being late to dinner.”
“Is that what you’re doing?” She slipped her hands from his neck, flattening them against his chest until she was able to pay her full attention to the buttons of his shirt. One by one they separated from the handmade buttonholes as she eased her way down toward the wide belt that held his pants in place.
Will’s head was bent, his teeth nibbling at her ear, and he nodded, his words a deep-throated admission of his intent. “I’m gonna take a long time to put you in your place, Mrs. Tolliver.” His big hands lifted her, one beneath her knees, the other across her shoulder blades, and he carried her across the room.
She twined her fingers in the curly mat of hair she’d exposed with her actions and tugged. “In my place?” One eyebrow arched as she tilted her head.
“Well, it’s where I like having you, come sundown every day.” His chuckle was smothered against her throat
as he bent to lower her to the bed. One knee on the mattress, he cradled her against himself, then allowed her to slide to the big feather pillow. He followed her down, leaning up on one elbow, his other hand already busy with the buttons on the front of her shirt.
“How’d you get those pants done up?” he asked gruffly, his heated gaze warming her through the batiste camisole she wore. The buttons were tiny, close together and more than troublesome, judging by his fumbling attempts. His fingers stilled their manipulations and he cleared his throat.
“I think you’d better do this, honey. I don’t want to tear this pretty little thing, and I don’t know how much longer I’m gonna be able to wait to see what it’s hiding.”
She felt a thrill of delight at his words, her woman’s heart pleased by the urgency of his need. He was ready for her, his arousal nudging her thigh, ruddy color edging his cheekbones. His fingers warmed her through the fine cotton fabric, coaxing the peaks of her breasts to his bidding, a low growl denoting his satisfaction.
“Why don’t we just sit you up and pull the whole kit and caboodle over your head?”
“I’ve got them all undone,” she told him, her words breathless as she slid the last button from its place.
His hands were there, grasping hers, placing them firmly on the quilt, silently bidding them to remain still. Long, agile fingers returned to the swollen firmness of her breasts, heavy with pregnancy, tender to his touch, the firm crests a silent admission of her arousal.
He bent to suckle her and she cried out, a whimpering sound that brought his head erect, his eyes seeking hers. “Did I hurt you, baby? I wouldn’t do that. I’m sorry.”
She shook her head, seeing him through a blur of tears. “No! It isn’t that. It’s just that everything is so much more…I feel it way inside of me when you do that I can hardly stand the pleasure of it, Will.” She felt a flush creep
up from her throat to cover her face. “You’ll think I’m brazen, telling you that,” she whispered, her eyes closing against the heat of his gaze.
“Oh, sweetheart, you can tell me anything you want to. I love it when I make you feel good, don’t you know that?”
He bent his head to her again, his mouth gentle, his tongue laving her tender flesh, and she shivered. “I love you, Will.” She whispered the words, the admission one she was wary of repeating, knowing he would not welcome it.
He stilled, his lips brushing a final salute against her flesh.
“I know you don’t feel that way about me, Will. It’s all right, really. I wasn’t going to tell you again. It just slipped out. Please don’t think I’m trying to make you…” Her words whispered between them and her eyes begged his indulgence as he watched her in silent appraisal.
And then he smiled—a pleading, tender message, conveyed by lips that touched her gently. “I made you feel bad the last time, didn’t I? I’m sorry, honey. I’ve never told a woman I loved her.” His brow furrowed briefly. “I’m not sure I know what love’s supposed to feel like.”
“Well, I’ve never said those words to another person in my life before, except my mother, and I don’t think that counts,” she said soberly.
“I’m glad you chose me, that I’m the one you love,” he told her after a moment, rubbing his cheek against the fullness of her breast, as if unable to meet her gaze any longer.
His hands moved to her waist and he pushed at the denim pants she wore. “You don’t even have these things done up, just this belt holdin’ them together,” he said with a dry chuckle.
“They don’t fit anymore. I had to let my shirt hang over the top.” She lifted her bottom as he wiggled the pants past the curve of her hips and down the length of her legs. Then,
tucking his thumbs in the top of her drawers, he stripped them off in an easy motion.
One big hand stretched across the swell of her belly and he held it still, spanning her from one hipbone to the other. “It’s hard to believe that there’s really a baby in there,” he said quietly, his eyes closing as he tested her resilient flesh, pressing firmly as if he would measure the child within.
“Sometimes I can feel it move,” she said, closing her eyes against the pure pleasure of his touch. It was strangely sensual, this exploration of the tiny life they had managed to create. A sensation like that of butterfly wings trembling in a breeze caught her attention, and she reached to press his hand more firmly against the movement.
“Can you feel that?” It came again, stronger this time, nudging her with a minuscule limb, if she could trust her judgment. From beneath Will’s fingertips the small being wiggled, perhaps protesting his encroaching presence, as he pressed her flesh more firmly.
“Cassie? Was that the baby? That little thumpy thing that was-right there?” He wiggled his index finger against her and she laughed aloud, pleased by the wonder in his voice.
“He’s letting you know he’s in there,” she whispered, her hands covering his as quick tears formed in her eyes. She did that a lot these days, her love for the child she carried spilling over in a happiness that could find release only in tears of joy.
“It stopped,” he said after a moment, disappointment rife in the announcement.
“Your mother says that I’ll soon be wishing for peace and quiet, when it gets bigger and takes up all the room down there.”
“Will there still be room for me? Can we still…you know.” His hand crept lower, his fingers sifting through
the curls that guarded her woman’s flesh. She moved against his touch, her legs allowing him room.
“I don’t know why not,” she whispered, her voice quivering as his hand pressed deeper. “I’ll go see Doc next time I go to town. Maybe I should ask him.”
“You’re so soft, Cassie. I’m always afraid I’ll hurt you, that maybe I’m too big. I’ve been tryin’ not to lay on you too heavy lately.” His voice was a soothing whisper, his fingers coaxing her with a slow rhythm, as if he would ease the way for his swollen manhood.
She reached for him, her hands pressing against his head, fingers twining in the heavy fall of his hair, guiding him to suckle the flesh he had abandoned for the moment.
“Please!” Her whisper was urgent and he complied, his groan of satisfaction the response she had hoped to gain. Her breath was quick and shuddering, her eyes closing tightly against the heated pitch of pleasure his fingers created.
And then he was gone, his hands on either side of her as he rose to find his place, urging her to accommodate him with swift yet gentle movements of her limbs. She reached for him, unwilling to lose the heat of his body, crying out softly as she grasped his waist, pulling him down to rest against her.
He leaned on his forearms lest he crush her, his arousal seeking entrance, and she lifted her hips to the nudging presence, opening and shifting as she pressed upward. And then a sigh of satisfaction whispered from her lips as she contained him. A groan of near fulfillment escaped from between his gritted teeth as he measured his length within her.
Their bodies moved together, with a knowledge imprinted over the nights of loving they had known in this bed. He shifted and she moaned. He lifted himself and she grasped him with the force of one denied. His teasing
abated and he bent to her, his movements more forceful, far beyond the soothing of her tender flesh.
It was a coming together such as they had never shared, a dominant, urgent, almost primitive possession of her body that brought her to mindless pleasure. He lowered his mouth to accept her cries, muffling the sounds that burst from her in a crooning cadence of sheer delight. And as she subsided, her whimpers fading, her breathing shuddering against his lips, he rose above her.
His mouth twisting in a silent, wordless plea, his throat taut, his head lifted, he sought his own satisfaction, barely able to contain the fierce urgency that drove him. She met his demand with the force of her young body, seeking to pleasure him as if it were a gift she could afford him. Her rapture hardly less than his own, she held him closely as he muffled his words of fulfillment against her shoulder.
“Cassie!” He called her name softly, shuddering against her slender form, still enclosed within the sanctuary of her flesh.
Then, in the trembling aftermath, he rose a bit, holding his full weight from pressing against her, his mouth caressing her with countless kisses across her cheeks and forehead, whispering broken phrases. She twisted her head, seeking the warmth of his mouth and capturing it as he brushed across her lips. Her mouth was demanding as she opened her lips to his urgent caress, and she held him with hands that sought his attention, her fingers gripping tightly.