Rustled (14 page)

Sobbing, I
grasped his cock and sucked, transferring all the intensity of my orgasm to my
lips and tongue, to give Russ what he’d just given me. My ears were buzzing,
tears streaming down my face as I worshipped that magnificent specimen with my
mouth. “Mmmm, mmm,” I moaned, the vibration low in my throat against him. His
hands clutched my hips, digging into the flesh as he pulled me back and thrust
me forward, pumping his hips up into my greedy mouth. I barely heard him shout
“Stop”, until he pulled me forcibly away.

“No,” I
moaned, “I want you to come.” Drunk with the passion, I tried to take him into
my mouth again.

“I will,
Kitten, turn around and come here.” The command was implacable. Reluctantly, I
left him throbbing and turned around. With a swift move, he pinned me on my
back on the bed and straddled me.  Russ’s face was slack with lust, his eyes
boring into mine as he pushed his erection back to my lips.  I opened them to
him,  mesmerized by the piercing gaze, sucking until he pulled out, and with
one stroke of his own hand, spewed creamy, thick jizz onto my breasts with a
groan that I could feel deep in my core.

I watched his
fist milk every last drop from his veined shaft, spurt after spurt of warm,
thick seed landing on my throat, my lustfully-parted lips, where I licked it
off with flicks of my tongue, and my breasts, covering my nipples. Though I
nearly swooned with the lust that transported me, I fought to stay with him as
the last shudder wracked his powerful physique.

It was the
hottest thing he’d ever done with me. I purred like my namesake as he rubbed the
thick liquid into my skin, spreading it so that it tantalized my nipples, with
a look of rapture on his face that I could hardly meet without feeling a
gripping spasm inside.

The clean,
chlorine-like scent of his ejaculate made my mouth water, an intense
sense-memory of the first time I’d gone down on him. Then, watching him come, I
had been ashamed that I was surprised into pulling away. Now I wished I’d at
least had the presence of mind to direct his jets toward me, to experience the
salacious awareness of his essence on my naked breasts. If I had only known!

“God, Russ,
that was...incredible!” I said, crushed with disappointment that I had no
grander words for it. It was more than incredible, the heat in my core was
incandescent,  demanding to be quenched. Lifting my chest to entice him with my
still-taut nipples, I whimpered my need.

“We’re not
through,” he whispered. “I just need a minute, and then I’m going to fuck you
senseless.”

Though I’d
started coming down from my lust-induced high, the swift reversal left me
reeling, especially when he drew me into his arms and began toying with my
nipples. The thought that he might tease them with his mouth, when they’d so
recently been covered with his own cum, sent me frenzied, my slick folds
flooding again and throbbing with the need to be filled. Being fucked senseless
was exactly what I wanted, what I needed.

A few minutes
later, I felt him stirring against my belly, and reached to fondle his growing
erection. This part would be tender and sweet, I sensed, though I was still more
than willing for him to be rough. However, when he entered me, I savored each
slow movement, wanting to remember the sensations after I’d left him. Our eyes
locked together, our heaving lungs fighting for more air, we coupled in perfect
cadence.

A musky scent
that represented
us
, mingling our juices together, wafted into my
consciousness, intensified my pleasure and urged me to pull him closer and
deeper into me. As his pace grew faster and harder, my heart leapt with the joy
of it. Bucking wildly up to meet him, my legs locked tightly around his waist,
I met Russ’s hard thrusts in kind, wishing it would go on forever.

I bit his
shoulder, drawing blood, when his climax brought my third or fourth, the most
intense of all, though I’d lost count. The bite only seemed to inflame him
more. Wrapping his fists in my hair, he pulled my head back to expose my neck,
where he spent an eternity slowly licking from my collarbone to jawbone,
alternating with nips of my earlobe, and sucking at the pulse point where the
collarbone was divided before dipping his head to reach a nipple with his lips
and tongue, pulling hard. He still filled me, but his whole body jumped with
each twitch of my internal muscles, until with an oath he jerked away and left
me bereft. Then, he collapsed onto me, pinning me to the bed and gasping for
air.

As he wiped
away my tears, Russ asked me tenderly, “Kitten, what are these for? Are you in
pain?” His face was wreathed in sympathy and concern.

I’d forgotten
my headache, but it wasn’t that. Flooding back into my consciousness was the
fact that we were on our way back to the ranch, and there was no longer any
reason for Russ to keep me there. I’d be leaving him soon and the thought was
crushing. But I couldn’t tell him that.

Instead, I
said, “No, but that was so good...”

His swift,
fierce kiss spared me the need to go on. He’d seen me cry with the release of
passion before, so I got away with it this time. It made him so happy and proud
to bring me to that point, an endearing trait that belied his bossy nature.

§

Even Russ
seemed subdued as we started on the final leg of our journey. We had a hurried
breakfast in the hotel restaurant and were on the road by eight a.m., expecting
to make it back to the ranch in time for lunch. There was nothing more to say,
so it was a silent trip, with Russ brooding and me simply staring out the windows
at nothing. Finally, Russ turned on the radio and we listened to country music
to avoid listening to our thoughts.

When we got to
the ranch, lunch was in full swing, and we could hear what sounded like a party
going on as we approached the back door. The men quieted as we came in, but
several called out to Russ, “Welcome home, boss.” He grinned and asked them
what we were missing.

Hank began
telling a story about one of the younger hands getting backed into a corner by
a mad momma cow and ending up seated in a pile of fresh manure, much to the
kid’s embarrassment. Even I knew who it was, based on the bright red face on
the other side of the table. One of the guys started to say something, but
Janet gave him a frown and he stopped before I could catch the gist of his
question. After lunch, Russ told me he needed to get updates on a few things
from Hank and said he’d see me in the house later.

I knew Janet
wouldn’t let me help her clean up, but I was beginning to get cabin fever again.
Other than brief encounters with attorneys and being in the midst of strangers,
I had seen no one but Russ for several days. I was used to being with many
women and children on a daily basis, so at first it had seemed like heaven to
have relative isolation. Now it felt like prison. I wanted some female company,
and Janet was it.

I sat at the
kitchen table and asked her how things had gone over the few days Russ and I
were absent.

“About the
same, dear. Not much excitement around here in the winter,” she said. It was
only mid-October, but the early snows had definitely put the stamp of winter on
the land. I couldn’t get any more conversation out of her, so I finally went
into the library to read. Russ joined me there after about an hour.

“Kitten, we
need to talk,” he said.

“Russ, I’m
tired of arguing with you. I intend to leave in the morning, with or without
your help.”

“No, I don’t
think you will. I’ve been hearing Hank’s report, and you need to know that the
men who came to the door the other day are convinced you’re here. They’re
hanging around, patrolling the highway between here and Rawlins. I’m not taking
you to town, and you won’t find any of the men or Janet willing to take you,
either. And if you think you can make your way to the highway and hitch, that RALDS
posse is most likely going to find you. Is that what you want?”

Shocked
speechless, I sent him a desperate look. “What am I going to do?”

“You’re going
to do what I’ve been telling you all along. Stay here. Let me protect you. If
you still want to go when they’ve given up and left, we’ll talk about it then.”

“But, Russ,
that could take days!”

“I don’t care
if it takes months. I don’t care if they never give up. I want you here.”

I knew that
the longer I stayed, the harder it would be to leave, but I didn’t seem to have
a choice. Going straight into the clutches of the RALDS was not an option, and
Russ had the means to see that it didn’t happen. I was stuck.

“All right, I
guess I haven’t a choice, but could we please try to contact my mom? At least
I’ll know what my options are after things settle down.” This was my way of
telling Russ that I hadn’t given up, and he seemed reluctant when he answered.

“Okay. Do you
know her number?”

“I know the
last one she called me from. She moves a lot, though. I don’t know whether she
has the same number.”

“You had a
great plan when you stole the Prophet’s car and headed for St. Louis without
even knowing your mom was still there,” he answered, his tone not betraying the
sarcasm his words conveyed. He was right, though. I hadn’t given it a thought
until I was on the way, and only half-formed ones after that.

“We’ll try
that number, and if she answers, fine. If not, maybe I can help you find her,
but that doesn’t mean I want you to go. Maybe she would come here.”

“Russ, that’s crazy.
Just let me talk to her and see where we are after that.”

Of course, it
couldn’t be easy. The universe was conspiring against me to keep anything from
being easy. The number I remembered was disconnected, and there was no new
number. Russ smirked at me as if to say ‘told you so’, but did promise to get
in touch with a skip tracer he had used before.

First, he
wanted to call the sheriff in Rawlins and let him know that there may be arrest
warrants out for certain out-of-towners who were hanging around and harassing
the ranch. That would at least get this batch of them off our backs and give us
room to move.

§

The next two
days were among the most boring and uncomfortable I had ever experienced. Janet
wouldn’t let me lift a finger, it was too cold to do much wandering out of
doors. Not to mention that Russ or one of the hands would have to guard me all
the time, since we didn’t know whether the men pursuing me would have the nerve
to lurk on the ranch property. And I was too out of sorts to let Russ touch me.

After I
rebuffed his advances the night of our return to the ranch, he went to his own
room, and his demeanor toward me was as cold as mine toward him. Except for the
smoldering looks he sent my way when he didn’t think I was paying attention. He
didn’t seem to understand that I felt them as intensely as if he had touched
me. In equal measure, I longed for him to sweep aside my objections and carry
me to my room, there to repeat the incredible sex we enjoyed before I put an
end to it. And yet, I felt irritation in the extreme, as if his every breath
grated on my nerves.

I didn’t
understand myself, and was almost as irritated with myself as I was with Russ.
In an effort to avoid snapping at anyone who crossed my path, I asked Janet to
fix me a tray for meals, that I carried into my nest in the library to consume.

It was on the
morning of the second day that I finally understood my mood. This had to be
PMS, since my period was due. In fact, it was a day overdue, and I was normally
as regular as clockwork. I asked Janet if there were any feminine supplies in
the house, and she promised to have some delivered with the next food delivery
as she was beyond the need. Meanwhile, I would just have to hope that whatever
had delayed the onset, stress most likely, would keep delaying it.

I kicked
myself for not purchasing supplies in Salt Lake City, but events had skewed my
sense of time. So much, in fact, that I asked Janet for a calendar to count
again and be sure. But I was right. Due on the 17th, and it was now the 18th.
Had to be stress.

On Saturday,
the 19th, Janet sent one of the hands to pick up the supplies order for the
week, among them my required items. Russ happened to see the exchange when
Janet gave the box to me and a look of comprehension crossed his face. His
smirk irritated me more than ever, so I sent him a withering glance and went
into my bedroom, slamming the door behind me. But my period still hadn’t
appeared, nor did it appear the next day.

Russ had
contacted his skip tracer on Friday, so we were hoping for some news on Monday,
and were not disappointed. The man had found my mother, but the news wasn’t
good. She lived in a broken-down trailer on the seamy edge of St. Louis, and
didn’t have a phone. He wanted to know what to do. Since I couldn’t call her, I
begged Russ to have someone take her a message from me and wait for a response.

My message was
simple: ‘Mom, I’ve left Bethel City. Can I come to you?’ I was anxious about
the answer. It seemed she had fallen on hard times. Having a grown daughter
suddenly appear on her doorstep may not be the easiest thing. While I fretted
and paced, Russ kept his own counsel, and kept his distance from me. I guessed
he didn’t want to feel the edge of my sharp tongue if he didn’t have to.