Read The Peacemaker Online

Authors: Chelley Kitzmiller

Tags: #romance, #historical, #paranormal, #Western, #the, #fiction, #Grant, #West, #Tuscon, #Indian, #Southwest, #Arizona, #Massacre, #Cochise, #supernatural, #Warriors, #Apache, #territory, #Camp, #American, #Wild, #Wind, #Old, #of, #Native

The Peacemaker (27 page)

After a moment she stopped crying and looked to be recovering herself. She picked up the water pitcher and filled the basin, then folded a cloth, dipped it into the water, and applied it to her arm, wincing as she did so.

Jim moved up a few feet closer. Now, he could see where the colonel had hurt her; the imprint of his fingers stood out on her white skin like a fiery red brand. He wanted to kill the bastard for hurting her. He
would
kill him if he ever hurt her again, he vowed.

Jim averted his gaze, anger and torment eating at his insides, but still he couldn't justify going to her knowing what would be at risk. And besides, there was nothing he could do to help her physical hurt that she wasn't already doing herself.

A soft sigh brought his gaze back to her.

She was leaning over the basin splashing her face and neck with water. By the time she had finished, the entire front of her nightdress was soaking wet and clinging to her body, but she didn't seem to be concerned. In fact, she seemed oblivious to it.

Jim was anything but oblivious to the way the nightdress molded itself to her gentle curves or the way it allowed him to see her dark nipples through the material. He cursed himself over and over for not leaving as soon as he had satisfied himself that she wasn't seriously hurt.

He heard a movement somewhere behind him and turned to see what it was. One of the camp dogs, he realized, breathing a sigh of relief when he heard it bark. It would be just his luck to be caught by Sergeant Moseley or her father. Fully intending to leave now, he glanced back at her one last time and saw her untie the ribbons that held the front of her nightdress closed and push the garment off her shoulder, baring her breast.

He stood transfixed.

"God, Indy," he whispered involuntarily, his body suddenly aching with desire. For a second he thought she might have heard him but when she didn't look up from what she was doing he knew she hadn't.

It was in his thoughts for her to pick up the cloth and touch herself with it, so that when she did he wasn't surprised. She drenched it in the basin first, removed it dripping, and placed it against her collarbone. Water trickled down over her breast and off her nipple.

Jim's mouth went dry. The throbbing pain of his erection was such that he was ready to do anything he had to do to relieve himself. Anything! He didn't care anymore how he got relief just so he got it. It wasn't as if it was a sin. A wound to his oversized male ego maybe, but not a sin. He started to reach his hand down then abruptly stopped; he couldn't do it. She pulled on the other side of her nightdress and slipped the whole thing down her body with excruciating slowness until she stood naked before his hungry gaze.

She was beautiful. Exquisite.

He felt the blood flow into him.
Move the cloth
, he thought.
Lower
. And she did. Just as he had wanted her to. He felt the tension build within him.

On a sudden, startling thought he narrowed his eyes, hardly able to believe that what he was thinking could be true, and yet he knew it was. How many times had he sensed her watching him, felt her eyes on him in silent communication? If he could feel her gaze wasn't it just as possible that she could feel his?

He watched her closely. She was performing the act of bathing herself just the way it had been in his mind, moving the cloth from one breast to the other, then across her ribs, down the center of her stomach, to the dark V between her legs.

Damned if she didn't know he was there watching her!

And damned if she wasn't deliberately trying to seduce him!

He practically ran up to her window. If he was wrong, he was a dead man. She would scream, and even if her father didn't save her somebody would hear her and come running. It was a chance he was going to take.

He vaulted over the ledge into her bedroom.

Indy gave a start of surprise. Then her chin lifted and she boldly met his gaze, and his thoughts were confirmed.

Neither of them moved. It seemed an interminable time that they did nothing but gaze at each other. He would have to have been made of stone not to feel the silent message her eyes communicated to him now.
Come to me. Make love to me.

Jim wanted nothing more than to come to her and make love to her. His body was weak and in agony from abstinence, but he was not a savage. He would not take her to slake his own needs. He was a civilized man, and when he made love to her it would be after he was sure she had felt everything she had a right to feel, everything he wanted her to feel.

His gaze moved over each inch of her wet shiny body. Her breasts were neither large nor small. They were perfect. Beautiful and perfect. Round, high, gently peaked. Her nipples were puckered and tight, begging him to touch her.

An almost imperceptible smile curved her lips as she turned her attention back to herself and again moved the cloth over her body, this time with a slow circular motion over her stomach, her hips, her thighs. He walked across the room, his footsteps silent as a stalking Indian on the plank floor until he stood before her. She reached out her hand, inviting him to take the cloth from her, thus giving him permission to touch her. His hand shook as he dipped it into the basin. When he pulled it out and lifted his arm, water slid backward and dripped off his elbow.

He placed the cloth against the side of her neck and slowly, only an inch at a time, moved it down her body, squeezing it as he went. He followed his hand with his eyes and when he got to her breast, he let the cloth slide away so there was nothing between them but flesh.

The feel of his hard, rough hand against her breast turned the spark into flame. She dared a glimpse downward to see his hand upon her breast. The contrasting skin tones, his so dark and hers so very white, was startling. She looked up at him then and was even more startled to see the pained look on his face, as if it actually hurt him to touch her.

"Jim?"

He met her gaze and saw her look of concern. He would have laughed except it wasn't funny. She was reading him too well and it made him feel oddly vulnerable. "How long have you known I was out there?"

"Just after the dog barked," she said guilelessly.

His gaze searched her eyes, then moved down the length of her body taking in the fact that she was breathing erratically and that her fists were clenched at her sides. Her boldness was only a pretense.

"I hope you know what you're doing," he said, thinking he needed to warn her.

She took a deep breath and nodded.

He saw her eyes widen when she happened to glance down. The urge to know her and touch her intimately was blatantly apparent beneath his clothes.

"I want you, Indy," he said on a ragged breath, "but I have to warn you, I can't go slow with you. I can't be as gentle with you as I'd like to be. Not this time. It's been too long for me. Do you understand?"

She sensed he was on a tight rein, holding himself back even as he spoke. She raised her arms and touched his face as she had done that afternoon and repeated the words that had driven him away from her. "I love you."

He bent his head forward and stared down at her. Then with a moan of long-suffering desire, he reached around her and caught her up against him. He felt her arms twine around his neck and cling. His mouth took hers. Her lips parted beneath his allowing him the access he would have demanded from her had she kept her mouth closed to him. Groaning, he thrust his tongue inside the soft opening and tasted her, then pulled back and thrust forward again, making love to her mouth as he would soon make love to her body.

Her response surprised him. Delighted him. Fired him. She held his thrusts and followed his retreats. After a moment he tore his mouth away from hers and kissed her face, her eyes, her ears. "God, Indy. You feel so good," he murmured into her hair.

Somewhere outside the dog barked, reminding Jim of the open window. Cursing, he pulled away and walked over to the window and drew the makeshift curtains together. As he started back, he saw her lean over and turn the lamp down until it sputtered and went out.

Before his eyes could adjust to the darkness, he heard the bed creak and stopped dead in his tracks, afraid he would explode just thinking about her lying there on her bed waiting for him. With an effort he would have thought beyond him, he regained control, and by the time he had recovered sufficiently to make it across to her, he could see her and she was in exactly the position he had imagined her to be in.

He swallowed, suddenly nervous and unsure of himself. Six years of celibacy was a long time. What if after all these years he wasn't physically able to make love? Christ! He hadn't thought of that before. He
wouldn't
think of that! He stripped off his clothes and tossed them in a pile.

And he prayed like he had never prayed before.

Indy gasped as he discarded the last of his clothes and lifted his head to look at her with his dark, fathomless eyes. She had never seen a naked man before. She wasn't sure what she had expected, but it certainly wasn't this. She swallowed, suddenly uneasy. "Jim—maybe we shouldn't—" When he took a step toward her, she halfheartedly turned away, but before she could get up off the bed, he caught her from behind and stayed her.

"Indy! Trust me." He knelt down on the bed behind her, his strong arms encircling her, trapping her hands against her stomach. She was trembling like a leaf in the wind.

He bent his head beside hers and whispered close to her ear. "I want you, Indy. I want you so much I hurt." He took her hand and moved it down between them, loosened her tightly clenched fingers and wrapped them around his engorged flesh.

She heard him suck in his breath.

"Only you can stop the hurt," he said, his hand firm over hers, holding her, squeezing her fingers to conform to his rigid length. "Only you, Indy." Then he began to slip back and forth within her hand  and  something  twisted  and  coiled  deep down inside her and she hurt too. A small cry of bewilderment escaped her. She had never imagined anything as intimate as this. His flesh was hot and hard—so impossibly hard. Little wonder he hurt.

She looked up at him. "I don't know how to stop the hurt," she told him, not even realizing that he had taken his hand away.

"Yes, you do. You are. You will." He knew he wasn't making sense, but it was impossible to think rationally when she was touching him like that. He felt her hold loosen and was about to protest when she began to explore him with her fingers. Her hand was trembling, yet she seemed determined to know the texture and shape of him, and he sure as hell wasn't going to deny her.

But he could stand it only a moment before he had to make her stop. Abruptly he pulled back and laid her on the bed. She opened her arms and invited him to lie beside her, which he did without hesitation.

"Jim." She paused breathlessly. "I've never—" She broke off, biting her lower lip.

He pushed a wisp of soft hair back from her face and gazed into her eyes. "I know, Indy." She reached her hand up to touch his cheek. He could see that she was frightened but it was a natural fear—a virgin's fear of the unknown. He would only see it this once, and then she would never be afraid again.

Her voice was shaky. "You'll have to teach me."

He nodded and prayed to God he could hold out long enough to teach her, to give her the pleasure she deserved. Every second he waited was pure unadulterated torment.

She twisted and squirmed as his hand roamed over her body. Her skin was like white silk. He caressed and fondled her, massaging, rubbing her breasts, tracing her nipples with his fingers, then with his tongue. He drew her nipple into his mouth and suckled her until she clung to him, saying his name over and over. Then he went to the other and repeated the action and when he was through there, he tasted her all the way down her body to her navel.

He considered going farther, then thought better of it. He wouldn't be able to last but a second if he did that. Instead, he reached down to see if she was ready for him. It was the first time he had touched her there and it was nearly his ruin when he felt a shudder ripple through her small delicate body. He fought for control, wanting to delve deeper into her moist heat but he couldn't, not unless he was willing to sacrifice everything else.

With an urgency that threatened to destroy him if he didn't get immediate satisfaction, Jim rose up and moved between her thighs. Taking hold of himself, he stared down at her as he guided himself into her enveloping softness.

"Indy . . . Now, Indy," he rasped out as he drove himself into her at last. He felt the barrier of her virginity give way to his hard, powerful thrust. He had wanted to be gentle with her but he couldn't. His body wasn't his anymore to control. It belonged to the need—the hot pulsing need that she had unleashed.

Indy cried out as he plunged his hard, urgent masculinity deep inside her, but he took the sound into his mouth and muffled it. The pain was intense but short-lived, and now she felt as if she was filled to bursting. She hadn't even recuperated from his entry when he pulled out of her and thrust into her again, going as far as her body would allow him to go.

"Wait. Please," she said, pleading for a moment to recover herself.

"I can't," he said repeatedly. "I can't."

In a frenzy of passion, he kissed and fondled her even as he pulled back and thrust forward again and again, deeper, faster, deeper still, until she thought she would go out of her mind with a need still unfulfilled. She quivered and tensed, arched and strained. Her fingers clutched and dug into his muscled shoulders. Her legs lifted, wrapped him, locked around him with the intention of holding him still but he was too strong to be stayed.

He rose up, grasping her buttocks, and found a new depth that took him to the edge of insanity. He gave a final, fierce thrust and poured his seed into her fiery heaven.

Never in her life had Indy felt anything like what she was feeling now. The steady heat that had been building inside her burst with an explosion of firebrands and left her quivering as sensation upon sensation assaulted her body. She turned her face into her pillow and wept softly.

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