Authors: Nan Ryan
“That’s different, Kay.”
Kay frowned. “Why? Because I’m a woman? Because I’m some airhead incapable of making decisions for myself? Because he’s older than me and thinks I’m still a kid?” Kay was growing angry.
“That’s unfair, Kay. Sullivan just—”
“Janelle, you’re a very nice lady, but you’re too damned protective of Sullivan!”
“Yes, I suppose I am,” Janelle admitted sadly. “Just as Sullivan is overly protective of you.”
“Janelle, I’m sorry. I know that—”
“Don’t be. Sullivan has never thought of me as anything other than a friend. If you didn’t exist, that would still be the case. But I’ll tell you something, Kay, hurt him and I’ll snatch you bald headed.”
Kay smiled and touched Janelle’s hand. “I like you, Janelle Davis.”
“Same here.” Janelle grinned.
“Order me that dance-hall costume and don’t say a word to Sullivan.”
“I will and I won’t.”
Bright October sunlight caused Kay to open her eyes and blink. She knew before she looked at the clock that she’d overslept. Groaning, Kay tossed back the covers, took a quick shower and pulled on her jeans and a sweatshirt.
The Columbus Day parade was to begin promptly at ten o’clock. The city fathers had decided to have the parade on the Saturday before the actual holiday to insure a good turnout. Kay, used to rising early every morning, hadn’t set her alarm, certain she’d awake with time to spare.
Now, at five after nine, she was speeding toward the station in her red Porsche, wondering how she’d ever be able to get dressed and down to the corner of Fifteenth and Golden, where the Q102 float would be waiting. Kay roared into the parking lot and scurried into the station. Panting for breath, she went to her office and saw a note taped to the door.
“Kay, your costume is in Sullivan’s office. Janelle.”
Kay turned and sped down the hall. The station was quiet. Save the weekend deejay doing his air trick, no one was around. All the other participants were either already at the parade site or else across the street at Leo’s, having champagne mixed with orange juice. Kay threw open the door to Sullivan’s office and saw a big box resting on the couch. She opened it and drew out a shiny green-satin dress, a pair of black mesh hose, a green-satin garter, a pair of very high heels, and a green-satin hat with a curling green feather.
Kay smiled, slammed the office door closed and picked up the shiny dress. She held it up to her slender frame and winced when she saw how low the strapless costume dipped in front. Shrugging her shoulders, Kay lifted the sweatshirt over her head and unzipped her jeans.
Rushing as much as possible, she soon stood frowning before the big mirror. Mesh hose and high heels on, satin hat pinned atop her upswept hair, its feather curving seductively over her ear and down under her chin, Kay was frantically trying to hook up the back of the tight dress. Arms bent behind her, she fumbled with the stubborn hooks and looked at herself, her cheeks staining a bright red.
Her high breasts were practically spilling from the snug bodice. The full skirt reached her knees, but the hem was folded back over the dress at one point, showing off white, frilly ruffles as well as a long, stockinged leg. The green garter was visible upon her left thigh. Momentarily wishing she’d been less pigheaded and had dressed as a schoolmarm, Kay gasped when the office door opened.
In the portal a tall, dark cowboy stood gaping at her. Booted feet apart, the intruder’s black eyes flashed with menace. A tailored shirt of snowy white stretched across muscular shoulders; a star of shiny silver flashed upon his chest. Tight black trousers revealed the lean, hard muscles of his thighs. Around his narrow hips, a gun belt of smooth leather rode low, a silver pistol in the holster. Upon his head a pearl-gray Stetson was pulled low, and on his hands, gloves of soft black kid leather fit like a second skin.
“Sullivan!” she gasped, clutching frantically at her open dress, her wide blue eyes fastened on his tall frame filling the door.
Sullivan lifted a hand upward. With an index finger he pushed the brim of his low-riding hat to the back of his head, releasing a shock of black hair. He looked angry.
His dark eyes raking over her, Sullivan shook his head and took a step inside, closing the door behind him. Kay unwaveringly met his furious gaze, although her stomach was doing a flip-flop and the hands at the back of her gaping dress began to tremble.
Kay lifted her chin and said commandingly, “Sullivan, could you help me fasten my costume? I’m having a little trouble with the hooks.” She smiled sweetly at him as though she’d not noticed his displeasure. Sullivan stood looking at the vision in green standing before him. Torn between the urge to spank her soundly for choosing such a daring costume and the almost uncontrollable desire to let his hands run all over the exposed soft flesh, he stood glaring at her. Refusing to let him get the best of her, Kay continued to smile and said calmly, “Are you going to help me, Sullivan?”
Sullivan couldn’t keep from smiling back. Rigid body relaxing, he started to her. “I’m not Sullivan. I’m the marshal, ma’am, and I ought to arrest you for going about half-naked.”
Relief flooding her body, Kay laughed and took up the game. “Oh, marshal, please don’t take me to jail. I’ll be plenty decent just as soon as this dress is hooked up.” She batted long silky eyelashes at him.
“I doubt that.” He grinned, his eyes moving to the swell of her breasts. “But I’ll do what I can.” He pulled off his black leather gloves, stuffed them into a hip pocket and came to stand behind her. Nimble brown fingers went to the tiny hooks at the waist of the green-satin getup. “Move your hands, Kay, and I’ll have this taken care of in a minute.”
“I’m all yours,” she said, smiling. Her eyes went to the mirror across from them. She stood directly in front of the tall, handsome Sullivan. His dark head, the Stetson pushed back, was bent a little, his eyes on the task at hand. He was completely absorbed. Or so Kay thought.
Kay felt warm hands brushing the bare skin of her back as Sullivan tugged at the tiny hooks. A shiver went up her spine. She wondered if he felt it. He continued to work doggedly, managing to close only two or three of the closely spaced fastenings. All at once the big hands stilled, his head raised and his eyes slid slowly from her exposed back up to the fragile column of her neck.
Wordlessly, his hands left the dress and gently cupped her bare shoulders. Turning his head, he lowered his lips to her nape, kissing her lightly. Sullivan raised his head. He looked at her in the mirror and said softly, his lips near her ear, “What am I doing dressing you when all I’ve ever wanted to do is undress you?”
Kay opened her mouth, but no words would come. A little gasp escaped her lips and Sullivan pulled her gently back against his tall, hard body. He lifted a hand to push aside the ticklish feather of her hat and pressed his open lips to the sensitive cord going down her neck.
“Sul, oh, Sul,” Kay whispered breathlessly, tilting her head to give him total access.
“Kay,” he murmured hoarsely, while he nibbled tenderly. “Why do you have to be so sweet, so clean.” His tongue teased at the tender spot beneath her ear. “Why must I feel I’ll starve without the taste of you?”
Kay sighed and turned her face toward his. Sullivan’s lips lifted and he looked into her shining blue eyes. He moaned and slowly lowered his mouth to her soft, parted lips. He kissed her with restrained passion, trying desperately to control the fire she’d kindled in him. He might have been able to repress the raging desire just below the surface, if not for the fact that when their lips separated, his eyes dropped downward just as one side of the low-cut green dress revealed to his heated gaze a brief, fleeting glimpse of the rosy-hued crest of a creamy white breast.
It was his total undoing.
Sullivan groaned, pulled her back against him once again and let his hands slide up her rib cage to the top of the dress. With his lips in her hair and his deep, drugging voice whispering her name, he slowly peeled the green satin down to her waist. Kay didn’t protest.
She pressed her head back against his shoulder and trembled, unable to fight what was happening to him, to her. She closed her eyes and savored the feel of those strong, smooth hands spreading warmly on her now bare midriff. With a gentleness that left her breathless, those sure hands moved up her trembling body, tenderly cupping her bare breasts.
Unbelievable warmth and pleasure quickly flooded Kay’s being. Her breasts swelled to fill his hands, and when his thumbs brushed at their aching peaks, she said his name softly. Her eyes remained closed, her face turning to press into the warmth of his throat. Open-mouthed, she kissed his smooth cheek, licking a line along his chiseled jawline with her tongue.
“Kay.” His voice was husky. “Kay, honey, open your eyes.”
Face still turned, she let her eyes open and gasped when she cut them across the room toward the mirror. “Sul,” she bit her lip and once again closed her eyes.
“No, sweet baby,” he pleaded. “Open your eyes and look. Look at us, honey. You’re beautiful, God, you’re so beautiful.”
Face flushed, Kay opened her eyes again. In the mirror two eager lovers were caught and framed. At Sullivan’s soft urgings, she let her embarrassment slip away and watched with unabashed pleasure as the hands of the only man she’d ever loved gently, expertly caressed her naked breasts, driving her slowly, happily insane. “Sullivan. We are…oh, Sul, kiss me. Please.”
Sullivan’s hands reluctantly left her breasts; he turned her in his arms and pulled her up against his tall, hard body. His mouth lowered to hers and all restraint was gone. Hungrily, deeply he kissed her, holding her head in his spread fingers to press her closer. Sighing into his mouth, Kay pushed the Stetson from his head and ran an eager hand up into his thick, black hair, her senses reeling from the heated mouth devouring hers, the smoky taste of his lips and tongue so familiar, so strange.
Kay was vaguely aware of something on Sullivan’s broad chest pressing into her naked shoulder. It was mildly abrasive, nothing more, and it was forgotten when his hot, wet tongue dipped deeper into her mouth to expertly, tantalizingly sweep and taste every tingling part, finally drawing her tongue into his mouth.
Weak, dizzy, thrumming with desire, Kay clung to him, loving the feel of his mouth feasting on hers, his hands moving up and down over her bare back and finally sliding over her satin-clad hips to press her ever closer to the pulsing, throbbing hardness straining against his tight black trousers.
His mouth slid from hers and went to her chin. “No woman in this world kisses me the way my sweet baby does,” he said. “You know just what I like, don’t you honey?”
“I…yes, yes, Sul,” she murmured, her heart pounding with happiness and hunger.
His mouth, hot and moist, was nibbling at her throat while he called her name and moaned. That persuasive mouth began to move lower and Sullivan muttered thickly, “I want to kiss you all over, Kay, all over…Every sweet part of you.”
Kay couldn’t answer. Eyes closing in ecstasy, her hands were once again in the thick, dark hair of his head, unconsciously urging his mouth down toward the bare, swelling breasts, aching for his touch. Her eyes fluttered open just as his mouth closed over a pale crest in a warm caress that made her shudder.
Lips upon the hard little peak, Sullivan murmured, “Sweet. Oh, God, so very sweet.”
“Hey, Ward.” Jeff Kern’s voice was followed by a pounding knock on the door.
“Sullivan!” Kay gasped, horrified.
Sullivan, eyes still glazed with passion, stepped protectively in front of Kay, shielding her should Jeff open the door. “Be right with you, Jeffrey.” His voice was just a bit shaky. “Stay where you are, we’re on our way out.” Broad chest rising and falling rapidly, muscles bunching in his jaw, Sullivan deftly hooked up the green-satin dress, while Kay, trembling, stood docilely in front of him.
“All done,” he whispered and she turned to face him. Sullivan winced. There on her delicate white shoulder, red blotches from the punishing silver star on his chest looked tender and raw. “Kay, I’m sorry,” he said, and Kay knew he was apologizing for more than chapped flesh. Before she could respond, he retrieved his Stetson from the floor, jerked a coiled lariat from atop his desk and hurried her to the door.
Jeff Kerns, dressed as a piano player in an old-time sporting house, stood with his arms folded over his chest. “I was beginning to…” His words trailed off as he looked from Sullivan to Kay and back again. Eyes twinkling devilishly, his lips began lifting into a pleased smile.
“Open your mouth and I’ll shut it for you, Jeffrey.” Sullivan glared down at him. Jeff remained silent, but he lifted a hand to his mouth and with thumb and forefinger pantomimed zipping his lips while he winked at Kay. She couldn’t keep from smiling.
Jeff took her elbow, made a face at Sullivan and said to her in a stage whisper, “Let’s ignore him and perhaps he’ll disappear.” He glanced back over his shoulder at the tall man cupping his hands to light a cigarette. To Kay, Jeff continued, his eyes dancing, “He’s got the shakes so bad he’s either had too much coffee or not enough of—”
“Can it, Jeff,” barked a frustrated Sullivan Ward.
The Columbus Day parade was a crowd-pleasing, spectacular success. Marching bands from across the state, equestrian units, huge flower-laden floats, precision drill teams and unicycle-riding clowns all drew applause from the people lining the parade route.
The Q102 float was positioned near the very end of the procession. It was fortunate, since Sullivan, Kay and Jeff were late arriving and the first bands and floats were already making slow, steady progress up Fifteenth Street. Janelle Davis, her high forehead creased with worry, saw Sullivan towering above the crowd, gave a sigh of relief then opened her mouth to berate him for his tardiness.
“Sullivan Ward, why on…” Her voice trailed away when she saw Kay, then Jeff.
“Not now, Janelle,” Sullivan said harshly.
“Better not rattle his cage,” Jeff Kerns lightheartedly informed her while Sullivan wordlessly left the others and strode determinedly to where his saddled black horse was waiting. “Right, Kay?”