The Outlaw (17 page)

She could feel him against her skin, hot and
hard. He moved his hips, fitting himself against her before kissing
her again. His mouth was hungry, drinking from her lips as if
parched, and that length of hardened flesh between her legs slid
against her folds until she was slippery with need. “Please,
Colt.”

Reaching between them, his fingers teased
her, playing her silken folds until she was ready to scream from
the wanting. Pressure built until her legs were shaking as he
inserted his finger into her, followed by another. When he stilled,
she looked up.

“You’re a virgin.”

It wasn’t a question and Sarah almost feared
he’d stop. “Does it matter?”

“Yes, but not the way you’re thinking.” He
smiled and moved his hand, the hardened length of him replacing his
fingers. He leaned down to kiss her again, a soft teasing of lips.
“Its going to hurt, sweetheart, but not for long.”

She nodded her head and braced herself for
the pain. When it came, she gasped, her eyelids slamming shut. He
was there, kissing her again with long, searing strokes of his
tongue. He didn’t move, just fitted himself against her and kissed
her.

The pain receded as his soft mouth moved
against her and the pressure between her legs intensified the
longer he did nothing. She moved her hips, his answering groan
rumbling in her chest.

He looked down at her, his hand lowering to
her hip. “You’re all right?”

She nodded, staring him in the eye as he
began to move. She’d often imagined what it would feel like to be
with a man and never in her wildest dreams had she imagined this.
She was surrounded by Colt, his scent tickling her nostrils, the
strength of him overwhelming her, and the desire to crawl into his
skin and stay there, protected, was immense. She raised her arms,
wrapping them around his waist while raising her knees, spreading
her legs further to make more room for him against her.

He was staring at her, his fingers in her
hair and the look on his face wasn’t what she expected. His desire
to bed her had been so intense, she thought he’d be mindless, that
he’d pound into her as if she were nothing but a warm, willing
body, but that wasn’t the case. He took his time, every inch of him
felt to each nerve ending in her body, his scent enveloping her
senses until she breathed him in. Until she’d never forget the
maleness of him, the essence of who he was.

The tingles started as a dull ache in her
stomach, clenching with every movement until she moved her hips
from the sheer need to be closer. The moment she did, he groaned,
his head lowering to the curve of her neck. “Don’t stop doing
that,” he whispered, “Love me back.”

She had no clue if she was doing it right,
but she moved her hips with him, ran her hands over his skin until
beads of perspiration dotted his flesh. He set a rhythm she
matched, their bodies moving as one and Sarah was shaking from the
intensity as the tingles grew, as zaps pinged in her limbs and her
legs started jerking. That uncontrollable feeling she’d had when he
loved her by the creek returned and built until she thought her
heart would stop, her hold on him tightening, her fingers digging
into his skin.

Intense moments later, the pleasure she felt
shattered and burst, the euphoria so powerful she buried her face
against his chest to keep from screaming. His hips moved faster,
his hold on her tightening until he lost all sense of control. His
movements turned jerky, small sounds hissed under his breath until
he groaned, buried his face against her neck and stiffened.

They lay silently for long minutes, neither
doing anything but trying to breathe. The sights and sounds inside
the barn came back to her slowly. The snuffling of horses, the
scent of the hay and other things. She opened her eyes, saw streaks
of light dancing between the boards on the roof and realized how
much she wanted to stay. Here, in this moment, with Colt’s weight
anchoring her to the ground. To feel him breathe against her skin,
to taste the salty tang of his flesh against her tongue. To love
him every day for the rest of her life.

Someone walked into the barn, whistling a
tune Sarah didn’t recognize. She opened her eyes and hoped whoever
it was didn’t climbed the ladder. Colt shifted, lifted his head and
looked down at her.

“Just be quiet and they’ll never know we’re
up here.”

Sarah nodded and felt her face flame.

“Colt,” the unknown person said, “Holden said
when you’re finished playing with your lady-friend, he could use
your help out in the east pasture.”

Humiliated to her core, Sarah buried her face
against Colt’s neck and hoped the glow from her red cheeks
eventually disappeared. Someone knew what was going on in the
hayloft?

Colt chuckled and kissed the top of her head.
“Might be a while but tell him I’ll be there.”

Sarah groaned as the whistling grew faint in
the distance. Whoever came inside the barn was now gone. “How did
they know?”

“Cause they’re nosey bastards.” He pulled
away from her, hissing a quiet breath as he slipped from her body.
He lay beside her and wrapped an arm around her waist. “And they
probably saw you come in here and just assumed.”

“Why? Do you normally seduce women in your
hayloft?”

He laughed before kissing her shoulder. “No,
but I wouldn’t be the first to use this space for a mid-morning
romp.”

A
romp
? Sarah’s chest tightened at the
word. What they’d just done was anything but a romp and classifying
it as such made it sound like such a cheap act.

Was that all this was to him? A romp? She
righted her bloomers and sat up, pulling her dress together and
pushing her skirts back down. Her face was blazing, her throat
tight, and something hot and fierce burned at the back of her
eyes.

She’d given Colt her virginity in a hayloft,
in a barn any number of people could walk into, and he saw it as
nothing but a romp. She realized then, that’s all it was. A passing
moment in his day and the humiliation burned deeper when she
realized how big of a fool she was. Did she actually think he’d be
so smitten after she gave herself to him that he would love her
forever and tell her so?

Yes, she did, but she realized that now he’d
finally gotten what he wanted, he’d have no use of her.

Fixing her clothes, she pulled the hay from
her hair best she could and avoided looking at him. He was still
lying on his side, his pants shoved down over his hips, and was
staring at her. She could feel his gaze on the back of her neck.
She swallowed the regret she felt and looked out across the barn,
to the door and the yard beyond. “I think it would be best if I
stayed at the hotel in town tonight. I don’t want to miss the
stagecoach again.”

He sat up and reached for her but she stood
before he could get a good hold of her. She walked to the edge of
the loft, to the ladder leading up. “I’m fine with one of the other
men working here taking me. Your brother expects you in the
pasture. I’ll go clean up and get ready to go. Have someone come
for me when you’ve arranged things.”

She fled the barn in a rush, ignoring him
when he called her name. Running across the dooryard, she entered
the house and ran up the stairs to the room she’d been given. Once
inside, she leaned against the door and didn’t bother trying not to
cry.

How could she have been so foolish? She
should have known he only wanted one thing from her and it wasn’t
to keep her. He wanted to bed her and now he had. There was nothing
left, now. His mid-morning romp took more from her than he’ll ever
know. He took her virtue, and her heart, in one fantastically
magical moment that was nothing but a good time to him.

She had no one to blame but herself. She
wanted to experience what it would be like to be loved by him and
she had. It wasn’t his fault she thought he’d declare his undying
love to her afterwards.

Drying her face, she surveyed the room and
laughed. She had nothing there that belonged to her, save the
calico dress she’d arrived in, which had been cleaned and was
hanging on the door of the bureau. Once she washed and changed,
she’d say goodbye to James and leave the ranch, and Colt, behind
forever. One day, she might even stop loving him. Then, the pain
that came with the emotion would let her feel something other than
numb.

Chapter Twelve

For a brief moment, Colt thought Sarah had
changed her mind about leaving. She stood on the porch and looked
at him with eyes that were a bit too wide.

He’d hitched the old buckboard up and
intended on taking her to town, just as she wished, but in the time
he’d been sitting there waiting on her, he wondered if taking his
horse wasn’t a better idea. Having her sit beside him wouldn’t be
nearly as cozy as having her in front of him but since she fled the
barn, and dismissed him like a manservant, he didn’t think she
wanted the intimacy they’d shared over the last week.

“Are you ready to leave or not?” he asked,
staring at her until she finally started moving. She descended the
steps and crossed the walkway to the wagon and climbed up before he
could even help her. When she was seated, he noticed her pink
cheeks, that ugly calico dress, and wondered just what the hell had
happened between them.

He flicked the reins to get the horse moving
and pulled out onto the road leading away from the house. They made
it all the way to the main gate before he looked over at her.

She was staring straight ahead, her shoulders
back and that arrogant chin tilted up in a stubborn way. He wanted
to smile but thought better of it. He didn’t have to be told she
was upset about something. He just couldn’t figure out what that
was.

The entire trip into town was made in silence
and when he stopped in front of the hotel, pushing the break lever
with his foot, she was already climbing down. “Hang on a minute,
sweetheart.”

She turned on her heel and glared at him.
“I’m not your sweetheart so stop calling me that.”

He jumped to the ground and started around
the wagon to where she was but she walked away before he could
reach her. He had to practically run to catch her and grabbed her
by the arm before she entered the hotel.

Glancing at him, she jerked on her arm. “Let
go of me.”

“I don’t think so.” He grabbed her hand and
turned, leading her down the street. “We need to talk.”

“I’ve nothing to say to you.”

“Exactly, which is why we need to talk.”

He cut between the Mercantile and the
Telegraph Office and into the clearing behind the buildings. There
was a bench sitting under one of the trees and he guided Sarah to
it, forcing her to sit. “What’s wrong?”

She crossed her arms under her breasts and
refused to look at him.

He’d been frustrated and mad enough to bite
nails in two many times but never in all his thirty years had he
wanted to chew his own tongue off to keep from screaming. That
little chin of hers was tilted up again and the fire in her eyes
wasn’t missed. She was mad at him, apparently, and damn it all, she
was going to tell him why if it took clean to winter for her to do
so.

Bending at the waist so he’d be eye level
with her he grabbed her chin and turned her face toward his. “What
are you mad about, Sarah?”

When he said her name, something flashed in
her eyes. He didn’t want to even guess what it was but it gave him
a bit of hope. “Come on, sweetheart, I can’t fix it if I don’t know
what it is.”

She jerked her head away from his hand and
glared at him. “Why do you assume its something you can fix? The
entire world doesn’t revolve around you, Colt. Did it ever occur to
you that maybe I want to be rid of this town? To be rid of you?
That maybe I’m tired and want to go home? Why does my current mood
automatically mean I’m upset about something?”

He stared at her long moments before
straightening. She was again looking off into the distance.
Probably dreaming of reuniting with her pudgy marshal. Just
thinking it made Colt’s blood run cold. Why the hell did she give
herself to him this morning and then turn into a shrew? He’d been
as gentle as he could with her. Held off his own pleasure until
she’d reached hers and stayed with her until they were both
breathing normally. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say she used
him. The thought was ridiculous, though. She’d given him her
innocence. And untried woman didn’t use men for sex, did they?

Removing his hat and running his fingers
through his hair, he repositioned it to sit low over his face. He
looked back down at Sarah, her lips pursed in a manner that said
she was finished talking to him, and damn it all to hell, he was
too confused to even try. So much for wanting to keep her. She was
apparently finished with him and that was just fine. He didn’t need
a prickly woman prone to tantrums anyway.

Turning, he walked away without another word.
Her refusal to talk to him told him it would be useless anyway.
He’d go get her a room at the hotel, head back to the ranch and
collect his horse. He should have known coming home would end up
leaving a bad taste in his mouth. It always did, which is why he
never stayed, and with Sarah leaving, there was no reason to stay
now, either.