Nicademus: The Wild Ones (3 page)

Last night was the fourth night in a row he hadn’t come to Cora’s bed. She was lonely for him. The argument was stupid. But a man like Red Sun never understood the defiant nature of a woman like her. Cora would not be told what to do by any man. Ever. Those days were over. No matter how much she loved him she couldn’t break that one vow. Still, Red Sun made her want to try.

Their relationship was all emotion and few words. Red Sun refused to learn the English language. She had to be taught by Annabelle how to communicate with the intimidating Indian in Chickasaw when they both showed up in town years ago in need of shelter. Cora was glad for it. The words he’d say in the heat of passion were burned into her soul. He was the most sensual, giving lover she’d ever known. And sadly Cora had known quite a few.

Jessiemae joined her. They stood side by side staring down at the saloon, at Red Sun. “Are the girls’ rooms emptied?”

“Yes, Ms. Kitty. Jacob just sent the last man on his way,” Jessiemae replied.

Cora and Red Sun may not be on the best of terms, but she sure could use him tonight. She’d heard from the sheriff’s deputy that a few Buffalo Soldiers were riding through town on their way to Tulsa. Someone important from the Senate was meeting with the governor there. The girls would need to be at their best, and the locals would be turned away.

“Tell Red Sun to come see me.” She said the words in Chickasaw so Jessiemae could relay the message.

She turned and headed for her room. Cora closed the door when she entered. She sucked in her diaphragm and proceeded to undress. Her room was the only one with a claw foot limestone tub, the most extravagant thing she owned. Cleanliness was one of the strict customs that Red Sun lived by. In the ways of the Chickasaw, the women were expected to wash daily. To not wash your body and hair was seen as blasphemous. It was one of the customs that Cora quickly learned to adopt for Red Sun. The other girls bathed in one of the outside stalls to the back of the saloon with Jessiemae filling the wash bucket. She tried to enforce the custom of cleanliness with them as well.

Thankfully her bath had been drawn. Jessiemae had heated water and poured it into the tub. Cora unfastened her black waist corset that was tight around her abdomen and dropped her gun belt on the chair. She shed her blue satin dress last. Undressed, she stepped into the now tepid water and sunk down into bliss.

**

Red Sun looked up from his meal of eggs and potatoes. Jessiemae cackled at him a few words that meant nothing. His head turned and his gaze lifted to the upper level of the saloon. Cora had sent for him.

A man was nothing without his pride. Cora was the only woman he’d constantly handed his over to. It was hard and frustrating. And this evening, for the sake of peace, he’d have to do it again. Red Sun nodded to Jessiemae so she could shut up and continued to eat. He would not be rushed through his meal for this infuriating woman, though admittedly he chewed and swallowed faster.

The first time he discovered the town of Nicademus he watched it from the top of White Rock Mountain in a state of disbelief. Never had he seen blacks, natives, Chinese, and even a few whites live in harmony under the white man’s law undisturbed by raiders or bandits. He was cautious of trusting in the allure. He soon learned that Nicademus had the perfect cover of the black forest near Buck Creek, and was deep in the foothills of the mountains. Many homesteaders passed the valley in fear of bears, or wolves that frequently prowled this region. That left the land unsullied. Its obscurity was its security. And that’s why he decided Nicademus would be the perfect place to raise his wounded sparrow Annabelle.

First day in town he met Cora, a beautiful soiled dove with large brown eyes under extended dark lashes. She had buttery brown skin, hair that was dark as raven feathers and so curly it bounced on her shoulders when she walked. When she pinned it from her face with sparkling barrettes, the hair curled like a baby’s around the temple and her ears. She said she was
gens de couleur
out of a place called the French Quarter. A year after knowing her she shared her sad story of being born a slave and sold into
placage
at the age of ten by her white French father away from her mother’s arms.

She was his Soiled Dove, a name given to her by him and only evoked in private. Cora was also the governess of the whores who took shelter at her establishment and worked for her. Underneath the sex kitten exterior was the pure innocence of a woman with a golden heart. He loved her deeply, and when she became his she never took another man to bed. Never.

Red Sun stood. He kicked back the chair and stalked toward the stairs. His height and temperament made very few gunslingers brave enough to look him in the eye. And that suited him fine. He didn’t like cowboys, black or white. Hell, he didn’t like people in general. Didn’t deal well with friendships. Cora and Annabelle were the only living beings left in the world that he cared for and would kill for.

At her door he paused. He had no idea what mood Cora would be in. He’d been out in the mountains for the past four days trapping and killing bears and wild turkey. Their parting was so sour he knew the bitter aftertaste would linger on her sharp tongue. But again his body and heart ached to be soothed by her. Recently he’d had a dream, and his dreams were always omens. Something bad was coming. And in his spirit he knew this time it was coming for her.

“Come in,” he heard her call out in his native language from behind the door. It must have been his heavy footfalls that clued her to his presence. He turned the knob and pushed it open. Cora dipped under the sudsy water of her bath and came back up. She wiped at her eyes with her fingers. Her natural curls were now wavy and flat to her forehead. The room smelled like her perfumed bath.

“Welcome home,” she said in Chickasaw.

Red Sun closed the door with a hard slam. Cora stood. She faced him. Her bodily perfection continued to amaze him. There were few scars from her life of hardship. Her breasts had a swollen prideful rise, and though her skin was on the lighter shade of brown, her dark nipples and the wavy black hairs that covered her pussy were the compelling reminder of her exotic ethnicity. He wished her womb could swell with his child, and he could drape her in fine dresses like the ones the ladies often whispered about. But for all the years of their trying, her womb remained barren. He knew she wanted motherhood. He knew her heart wanted more than to be some whore-guardian to these lost women.

She blinked those dark lashes at him and pointed to her robe resting on the back of a chair. He walked over and picked it up. Cora stepped out of the tub to the floor, pooling water at her feet. He put the robe around her shoulders and she slipped her arms through the sleeves. “Four days. No word from you. Do you know how that made me feel?” she turned her head and looked back at him. “Do you even care?”

He processed the words.
Did he know? Did he care?
How could she ever ask that of him? He only grunted a response. He knew English. He spoke it in bites when forced to, but vowed never to let go of the language of his people. Why the brown and yellow people of Nicademus insisted on speaking the white man’s language was beyond him. Had they no pride?

Cora turned and wrapped her arms around his waist. The act of submissive contrition shocked him.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. She squeezed him. “Sometimes I don’t know the words that I’ve said until they are off my lips. I should have never argued with you. Okay? I missed you.”

He stroked the back of her head. His woman did not easily give others forgiveness. Soiled Dove was a survivor. Her iron will made her unyielding and invincible to her enemies. It made her a worthy conquest to the men who lusted for her. He didn’t need to break her. He just wanted to love her, his way.

Red Sun lifted her chin. Cora’s wet hair fell past her shoulders and dripped heavy drops of water to the floor. Her lips were the softest he’d ever known on a woman. And when he kissed her, all the time spent apart fell away like a distant memory. His tongue swept deep, hers teased in response. Her perfumed hair and body was a gift from nature and God. He forced the robe, now damp and clinging to her curves, off her. He wanted no barrier between them. Cora reached around his neck and pushed up against him, and he lifted her in his arms, refusing to release her from their kiss. He carried her only a few feet to the bed, and only because it was how it should be done.

Cora’s heart pounded in her chest. She felt her body tense from head to toe with arousal. Lord he was a mighty man. He was taller than any man in town, and solid with broad shoulders, a muscular defined chest and thighs, and arms made of steel. All of him was packaged nicely beneath copper brown skin. And eyes so dark they would seem soulless, yet she witnessed the depths of his convictions, his pride, and his emotions. She felt light headed each time she looked into his eyes for too long. He wore a pair of dusty britches, and a hand-sewn vest over a loose fitting shirt. He shed his clothes quickly, then he dropped them where he stood. She reclined into her pillows and extended her hand. He walked around to the foot of the bed and Cora parted her thighs. Red Sun ran both hands across her ankles before pushing her legs further apart. Bending her knees, she exposed every pink fold of her sex to him.

One swipe of his tongue over her sex and she was lost. Cora clutched the sheets. His tongue delved in and then tickled its way up to the tenderest part of her body with licks and sucks. Cora tried to slam her thighs shut but Red Sun anticipated her reaction. He forced them apart with both hands, pinning them that way. The wicked forays of his tongue, both soft and gentle, were driving her mad. She grabbed at his head with one hand, grasping a bar on her iron headboard with another, all while rolling her hips in pleasure. Soon, very soon, she was climaxing and kicking her feet.

Red Sun kissed the mound of her sex and rolled her over. Cora was forced to put her face into the now damp pillow. He spread her buttocks and swiped his tongue at her other rosette. She bit into the pillow once his tongue delved inside as he pinched and turned her clit, forcing her toward another climax. The inner walls of her vagina were so tight her pelvis felt as if it vibrated with tension.

Before she could catch her breath, Red Sun was behind her, lifting her ass and angling her pussy against the head of his dick for a backward slam. He drilled her hard and fast. Stroke after loving stroke drove him deeper and deeper.

Cora, with shaky arms, managed to lift, but Red Sun put pressure at the center of her spine to force her face back down into the mattress. He fucked her hard and fast, making sure she understood, accepted, succumbed to his dominance. Cora smiled and tried to move with him, not against his pumping pelvis. But even that privilege was denied her. Instead, she played with herself, with his powerful hands gripping both sides of her hips. Her eyelids fluttered and her breathing went shallow. The assault on her pussy was both intense and liberating. She was going to come. She was so close.

Red Sun stopped. He withdrew and Cora clenched her jaw to keep from voicing her disappointment.

He wanted to look into her face when they joined souls. He turned her lovingly onto her back. She panted deep breaths. Her wet hair was splayed across her face. Red Sun situated himself between her soft thighs and pushed his cock back deeper in between her tender walls. She looked up at him. He moved every wet strand from her face, and they held each other’s stare as he continued to move in and out of her with slowed thrusts. When it got so good between them and her pupils disappeared under her fluttering lashes, he gripped her chin and forced her to return her gaze to him.

She hooked her legs higher on his waist. He let go of her face, and the slow tease of his invading and escaping cock drove her near madness. Red Sun licked with the tip of his tongue across her collarbone up to her pulse. He sucked there as he fucked her until they both reached the tipping point. And then his head lifted and his eyes bore down on her. She smiled up at him and arched her back, and he slipped his hands under her buttocks to squeeze them tight together as he gave her the final rapid thrusts and delivered them both beyond the point of bliss.

**

Cora woke not long after. The short nap was always a consequence when her Indian came down out of the mountain and ravaged her body. She loved the warm tingling in her core that she’d carry for the rest of the day. And then she heard it: banging. Blinking several times to get her mind to focus she concentrated on the repeated sound. Someone or something was whacking at wood beneath her window.

“What the hell?” she groaned.

Cora found her robe that had dried considerably before she slipped it on. She tied it neatly around her body. Her feet eased into her worn slippers. She marched around the bed to the window and snatched back the curtain.

Red Sun carried two long planks of wood. He dropped them down and then got on bended knee. Picking up a hammer larger than any she’d seen, he began to nail the wood together. The morning breeze blew his silky hair from the side of his face. She could see his sun-weathered skin and profile. There was a firm set to his jaw as he brought the hammer down over and over again. The sleeves he wore were rolled up high on his arm.

Cora crossed her arms over her chest and remembered the first day they met. Annabelle walked in, only ten years old and full of spunk. She demanded that she be given a job in the kitchen so she could feed and take care of her daddy. Cora had thought the kid cute. Before she could turn her away a menacing Indian appeared. Cora went for her gun, as did a few other men at the saloon. He was just that frightening. And the town had a bad history with the Maki tribe. Red Sun wasn’t Maki. He grabbed Annabelle up by the waist and tucked her under his arm with the child wailing. His actions stirred up a fit with the locals. It wasn’t until Annabelle announced that he was her father that they all paused.