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Yes, this was what she’d needed. The thrust of his tongue, the power of his embrace, the shudder of his big body against hers as she straddled his thighs and settled gently over his groin.
“Goddamn it, Sally.”
She shook her head as anticipation blended with pleasure.
She fitted her groin to his, rocking on the hard ridge of his cock, breathing deeply of the humid night air. She spread her fingers across his magnificent chest, touching the tips of her pinkies to the tips of his flat nipples.
Never would she delude herself that this between them wasn’t magic.
His hands slid under her thighs, the backs brushing her pussy and he went to work on the buttons of his pants. “Lift up.”
Lifting up was the best thing she ever did. Lifting up allowed Tucker the opportunity to free his penis. Lifting up allowed the slick slide of her pussy over his thick cock. His very thick cock.
Instinct had her pulling back from the potent threat. “Oh my.”
His big hands settled on her hips, guiding her back into the motion. His cock pressed eagerly. Her breath caught in her lungs. Tension coiled in her stomach, spreading outward. There was the slightest shift in his grip, and then he pressed up. Delicious shivers radiated up from her pussy in hot pulses. Her fingers curled. Something like a growl rumbled in his chest. Her body, still primed from their previous encounter, ignited in a storm of passion.
“Tucker!”
He lifted her, but this time when she came back down, he was waiting for her. His cock wedged into the well of her pussy and her breath exploded from her in a gasp.
“Relax, Sally.”
Yes, she needed to relax, otherwise she’d never be able to take him. Biting her lip, she tried again.
“Shh, baby.” His hand touched her cheek. “I know it’s been a while. We’ll take it slow and easy.”
It had been more than a while. Jonah had never been this big, stretched her to this point, challenged her so.
“Tucker,” she whispered as she took that first little bit.
“Damn, I knew you’d feel like this.”
“Like what?”
His eyes narrowed. “Like a fist coated in liquid fire.”
She blinked and bit her lips. He wasn’t the only one who was burning. “Perfect.”
“Perfect,” he agreed, thrusting up in tiny pulses, testing, stretching until her tight pussy spread over the head of his cock. Only one pulse of his hips kept her from the shining knowledge of what it would be like to be his. “It’s perfect.”
He was perfect and she needed him to…“Hurry.”
“Some things aren’t meant to be hurried, moonbeam, and this is one.”
This was the continuation of the tiny pulses of his hips that teased and retreated, promised and denied. She dug her nails into his chest. “Tucker!”
Another not-quite-there nudge. His thumb swept down, slipped between the wet folds of her pussy and found the hard nub of her clitoris. She almost jumped out of her skin. Fire whipped through her womb, spread outward in a sweep of bliss. His cock slid easier, the erotic burn increased. She wanted more. Needed more.
“Please.”
His gaze held hers. The silver was darkened by the same desire that was coursing through her. She tangled her fingers in his hair, holding on. “Thinking you can give orders now that you’re on top?”
Was she? The answer came to her as he gave her that ghost of possession. “Yes.”
He laughed, a deep rumbling sound that was a velvet caress down her spine. Oh, how she loved to hear him laugh. In one smooth move, he rolled them over, his big hands cushioning her from the ground while his hair fell about her face, shielding them in an intimate cocoon. His cock settled between her thighs with the same easy glide that his smile settled across his lips.
With his broad shoulders filling her vision and his big body dominating hers, she took a deep breath, shivering as the bullet he wore around his neck settled between her breasts. It was warm from his skin. Not for the first time she wondered where he’d gotten it, how it’d come to have so much importance to him.
Propping himself on his elbows, he kissed her hard, hot and…sweet? Oh heavens, so sweet. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. The heat from his skin sank into hers, sealing them together. His fingers trailed up her side then along the length of her arm until he’d captured her wrist. She was still shivering when he repeated the procedure on the other side. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he brought both her hands up beside her head, effectively pinning her. A shiver took her from head to toe.
Everything within her melted, but she held onto her fight. The hot cry of pleasure broke past her control.
His lips brushed her cheek, her jaw. “Ah, moonbeam, that was a very sweet sound.”
Not nearly as sweet as the buss of his lips against hers. There was so much emotion contained there. So much held back, so much she wanted to unleash. She forced her eyes open. His face was so close she could make out the fine scar on his upper lip, the tightness of his jaw, the need in his eyes. Another shudder shook her. She was going to fulfill that need tonight.
“Love me, Tucker.”
Had she really said that aloud?
“I will, Sally Mae. Better than you’ve ever been loved.”
He was talking physical love. She didn’t care. She lifted her hips up, begging.
Again that burst of laughter followed by the hot press of his body into hers. His lips nuzzled hers, parted hers, took possession of hers. And this time his cock didn’t stop, just kept forging into her body with relentless pressure that grew right along with the burn of desire.
Mine.
The thought whispered into her mind, her soul. Oh God, this was so much more than physical. Pressing her hands against his chest she opened her mouth, straining for the words that would put an end to temptation. They wouldn’t come, stolen by the thrust of his tongue, his cock. A silent scream of bliss tore through her as he slid deep.
Her “Tucker” blended with his “Damn, Sally.”
Above her his dark face was tight with passion and a battle for control. The night was hot, but he was hotter, all dark muscle and exciting promise. Experimentally, she flexed her inner muscles around the thick intrusion of his cock. Splinters of delight rippled through her pussy, wending their way to her womb. Above her, he jerked and moaned.
His lips met hers in a biting caress. “Keep that up and we’ll be done before we start.”
“Mmm…” She did it again, holding his gaze, absorbing the passion that was hers, just for the asking. A miracle…
“I dare thee to resist,” she whispered as his lips skimmed across her cheek.
His chuckle vibrated against her ear. Within her, his cock flexed, stretching her a delicious bit. Her body quivered. Her muscles contracted.
He whispered back in a low rumble, taking her earlobe between his teeth and biting gently. “Maybe I should just bring you up to my level.”
She suspected she was already there.
“Thee could try.”
“Pushing me, moonbeam?”
Was she? The next bite to her ear was a little harder, adding an erotic sting to the hot pleasure whipping through her.
“Oh, yes.”
Humid air seeped between them as he levered himself up onto his elbows. She resented its touch, her senses wanting only the feel of his skin on hers.
“Why?”
Strands of his hair tickled her breasts. A silken contrast to the hardness that was the man she’d chosen. “Because this is an opening and should not be missed.”
“Can’t say that I’ve ever heard it labeled that way.” His cock caught intimately as he withdrew. She gasped. He paused, holding the tension until it stretched so finely between them, it—she—something had to break.
She dug her nails into his shoulders. “Please.” Oh God, he had to take it—her. Had to put an end to this fire burning so brightly between them. Had to take them to the fiery satisfaction that she could sense waited just beyond her reach. Because if he didn’t, it would be bad. So bad, she’d never stop regretting.
Wrapping her legs around his hips, she pulled herself farther onto his cock, moaning as he stretched her deliciously tight, moaning again as desire whispered a welcoming yes. She groaned with Tucker as that last inch slid home.
“Oh!”
He leaned down, sealing them together knee to chest, so tightly that she could feel the echo of his heartbeat against her own. The trail of kisses he sprinkled down her neck fell like sparks across her skin, igniting a burning yearning for—
“More?”
“Yes.” She needed more.
The tension in Tucker’s arms vibrated down her side as he nipped at her neck. The quilt bunched beneath her hips as she twisted closer. She didn’t care. All she cared about was the slow, tantalizing brush of his mouth over the slope of her breast, the moist touch of his tongue as he cradled her nipple on the rough surface. The gentle pressure as he caught it between his teeth. The searing pleasure as he bit down.
“Mine.”
The claim vibrated against the hard nub, whipping the nerve endings into writhing need.
She made a last grasp at sanity as his cock slid along the ultrasensitive lining of her pussy, tempting the wildness inside her to come forward.
“For tonight,” she gasped.
His response was to thrust deep, stealing her breath, repeating the gesture over and over as he took possession of her senses, her will, with every push of his body into hers, and when his hand slipped between them and found the swollen nub of her clitoris, he took possession of her soul. She shattered, falling into the explosion, embracing the joy, embracing him as he stiffened and swore. His cock flooded her pussy with the warmth of his seed.
She kissed his chest, tasting the salt of his sweat, the depth of his satisfaction. His arms came around her. One hand cupped her head as he rolled them over until she lay on top of him. He brought her mouth down to his, running his tongue along her lips until she parted them for him. His dark eyes caught the moonlight, shining up at her with an almost otherworldly beauty. The shadows weren’t so kind to his face, casting a feral wildness to the harsh planes. Beautiful. Wild. That was her Tucker.
She kissed his lips, squeezing her pussy around his cock as aftershocks rippled through her. His response was immediate and absolute.
“This,” he replied, “is as for as long as we want.”
Chapter 4
Tucker watched Sally Mae from the edge of the woods as she crossed the clearing, her steps a little shorter than normal, her stride not quite so flowing. He’d been hard on her, demanding more, even as she’d given him all, taking him again and again, rising to his touch with soft sighs and eager acceptance. He should have played the gentleman, leaving her alone after the first couple times. She’d been a long time without a man. But he couldn’t. He’d been a wild man, cramming the type of loving he’d normally spread over a month into one night. Taking her in ways he knew damned well Jonah hadn’t. Staking his claim in the most elemental ways he could, expecting her to turn him away, but she hadn’t. She’d given him everything, taken him everywhere, and always with that soft exultant cry that drove him wild. He remembered the first, tight clasp of her pussy around his cock, the resistance as he pushed through the taut muscle of her ass, her gasp as she’d accepted him fully. Her surrender as her body climaxed around his, time after time, without any inhibition, following his lead, letting him take them where he wanted them to go. Over and over. His cock, which should have been worn-out, stirred.
Sally Mae reached the porch and stopped. Though he’d told her not to look back, she did. Not only that, but with lifted chin, she waved. Fool woman. Resignation, pride and the surge of possessiveness that was more than just a simple emotion welled again. Which was ridiculous because, sure as shit, a woman like Sally Mae wasn’t for him. He didn’t know why she had come to him tonight, but there was no way it would happen again. Hell, he had to pay three times the normal price for most whores to assuage their guilt at lying down with an Indian. It wouldn’t be long before the same sense of shame claimed Sally Mae.
Sally entered the house. The door closed. There was no subsequent flare of light. Which was just as well because, if there had been, Tucker would have stood there longer, looking more like a lovesick fool than he already did, lusting after a woman he could never have.
“That’s a fool’s game, you know.”
Tucker sighed and turned to face Tracker. His infatuation with Sally Mae was getting out of control if his senses were so dull that he didn’t hear another approach. If it had been anyone but Tracker who had come up on him outside a white woman’s house, Tucker’d be dead by now. White men were very rigid on the penalty for a red man lusting after one of their women. While he’d like to think it was doubtful that anyone but Tracker could sneak up on him—Tracker and his twin brother, Shadow, were practically ghosts—truth was, he wasn’t sure. Sally Mae was the type of woman to play havoc with a man’s concentration.
“I know.”
The shadows seemed to shift and Tracker stepped into the pale glimmer of dawn. Dressed in his customary black, Tucker couldn’t make out much more of Tracker than his tall, broadshouldered silhouette and the gleam of light off his silver hatband. But he didn’t need to see to know what Tracker looked like. He knew the man’s face as well as he knew his own. When the Mexicans had ridden out that day so many years ago, only eight residents were still breathing. Eight boys. The weight of the bullet around Tucker’s neck seemed to increase the way it always did when he thought back to those days. They’d banded together, to survive. Learned to become meaner and deadlier than anything that tried to take them down, to the point they’d earned the name of Hell’s Eight. If they hadn’t drawn the attention of the Texas Rangers no telling how they would have ended up. They’d been buck wild, taking their revenge with lethal efficiency, but they had been given the choice to become Rangers and they’d taken it, earning a touch of respectability and gaining a broader purpose. Hell, there were even some who’d probably say the Hell’s Eight were downright civilized these days. He smiled. Comparatively.
“After a walk on the wild side, the widow’s going to wander back to respectability, and then where are you going to be?”
Where he’d always been—on the outside looking in. “Looking up a new bed partner. What are you doing here?”
“Just passing through. I thought we’d check on you and Sam.”
“We?”
“Shadow’s here somewhere.”
He bet. “Sam is over at Bella Montoya’s place.”
“So I heard.”
He wasn’t sure he liked the tone in Tracker’s voice. While everyone considered Sam the wild card of Hell’s Eight, Tucker had always felt that Tracker and Shadow were the unpredictable ones. “What else did you hear?”
“I heard he married up with a little spitfire.”
Tucker smiled. “That’s one way to describe Bella. Others would say she’s passionate, funny and completely devoted to Sam.” He wanted that point made. “And they’re not married yet.”
“She good enough for Sam?”
“What are you planning on doing if she’s not?”
“Steer clear?”
“That would be wise. Sam’s a bit touchy about his Bella.”
Tracker grunted. “Fell hard, did he?”
“Like a rock slide.”
Tracker shifted the bundle. “She make him smile for real?”
Tucker understood what prompted the question. They’d all watched helplessly as Sam’s real smile had faded to fake over the years. And they’d all come to the conclusion that what it would take to bring it back would be the right woman.
“I don’t remember him ever smiling more.”
“Good. I’ll have to wander over there and see if she’s got what it takes to love a man like Sam.”