Harlot (Bartered Hearts 2)

She shook her head. “You don’t have to. Bill will take care of it.”

“I’d like to, and I need to see to my horse, anyway.”

“All right. I’ll put up those beans Melisande and I canned today. I think they’re cool enough.”

It felt so damn simple. Like this was their place. Their farm. And tonight he’d lie beside her and make her his. His hands shook as he closed the kitchen door behind him. By the time he got back to the house, the sun was setting, a cool breeze sliding through the open windows. The dim front rooms greeted him with silence, and he found the kitchen empty as well.

Caleb moved up the stairs, his heart beating harder. Would she welcome him, or had he misinterpreted the invitation? If she’d made up the other bedroom for him, he’d stay there, but he had a feeling he’d sleep as poorly as he had on the trail.

But no, that wasn’t what Jessica wanted either. He found her in the bedroom, already in her shift, arms lifted to free the pins from her hair. She blushed when she caught him watching.

“There’s whiskey,” she said, dipping her chin toward the bottle on top of the dresser.

He shook his head. “I’m already beat. It was a long ride back.”

Her hair fell free, a long twist down her back. He knew it’d be warm if he touched it. “I was sure I’d never see you again,” she said as she picked up the brush.

Caleb watched the bristles slide through her hair, and love and lust stirred inside him, swelling his cock and his heart. She looked so pure. So pretty. Brushing her hair as she must have done a thousand times before. Letting him see that bit of her as if he hadn’t hurt her.

It terrified him that he could still feel this way for her, but it awed him, as well, because maybe their love was bigger than everything else. Bigger than hurt and jealousy and stupid decisions. It was just…right.

He was more certain of that than ever as he watched her ready herself for bed.

“Need help with your boots?” she asked.

“No, I never did find anyone to help on the trail.”

She laughed at his meager joke, and the sound stole his strength as he stripped out of his shirt and toed off his boots. And then he saw the flowers, wilted and half-broken, but sitting in a jar by the window. She’d saved them after all. His heart thumped with pain.

The twilight lit half her body and threw the other into shadow. When she moved to the end of the bed and eased her shift over her head, her curves were blue and smooth. She looked strangely untouchable for a woman getting into bed, but then she flashed him a nervous smile.

He was already so hard that it took a few tries to get the buttons of his trousers free. Following her lead, he stripped down to nothing, then slid beneath the sheets after her. The cotton was crisp and cool, a contrast to the warm skin of her arm when she brushed against him. She smelled of a more delicate soap than the kind she’d lent him.

“I didn’t know if you’d let me stay,” he said into the deepening dark.

“If it’s the last time I see you…” She didn’t finish the thought.

Caleb rose above her, sliding his hand along her neck, her jaw. “I don’t want it to be the last anything. I want it to be the first.”

“It’s far too late for that, Caleb.”

“It’s not. You never had a first time. Not really. All you’ve ever had were transactions.”

Her hand covered his and pressed his palm tight to her cheek. “There’s no taking any of that back.”

“No, but we can make something new. A real first time. No one hurting you, not even me.”

“Caleb…” she murmured. She shook her head in denial. He saw the glint of moisture on her cheek before he felt wet on his fingers.

“Shh,” he whispered, “I won’t hurt you, Jess, I promise.”

His mouth met hers, and she opened for him immediately, her tongue brushing sweetly against his. He kissed her slowly, carefully, learning the feel of her and what rhythm made her sigh into his mouth.

He trailed his fingers down her neck, then traced the line of her collarbone. Her skin was impossibly fine. He wondered that he was even the same animal as her, she felt so different.

His fingers found the outer curve of her breast. Goose bumps rose beneath his touch as he cupped her in his hand. “You’re the most beautiful thing in the world.” He lifted his head to look at her. It was nearly full dark now, but he could see his darkness against her, and the tight circle of her nipple.

Her breath hitched when he dragged his thumb over that nub. “Do you know how often I fantasized about this through the years, Jess? I dreamed of it.”