This Calder Sky Page 5

  The long, shaky breath she released was almost a sigh. “Are you supposed to feel all quivery inside when a man kisses you?” It was an artless question, prompted by a curiosity she couldn’t contain.

  “Not with every man—just one or two.” His voice vibrated from someplace deep within him.

  By slow degrees, Maggie began moving her lips closer to the line of his mouth. The hesitation was caused by an inner sense, warning her that this was an experiment that could get out of hand, but her natural boldness carried her past the point of caution. Chase didn’t make her come all the way—meeting her at a spot in between.

  This time when his mouth closed over hers, she knew exactly what to do. The eagerness of her returning kiss brought an instant, and demanding, response from him. She felt she was being eaten up, consumed whole by the ravishing hunger of his kiss. The subsequent weakness made her sway, but his free arm moved, his hand catching her shoulder to hold her steady.

  He shifted his position so she didn’t have to lean to reach him. The softness of her seemed boundless. Her lips yielded to the probing intrusion of his hard tongue, but her white teeth presented an irritating barrier. He withdrew. There was no need for force when instruction had already shown she was an apt pupil when properly coached.

  “Open your mouth, Maggie,” he murmured against the corner of her lips.

  This time there was no resistance and his tongue penetrated into the dark, secret recesses of her mouth. At first, she kept her tongue pressed tightly to the bottom of her mouth, avoiding contact with his. Gradually, she relaxed, letting her tongue touch his and curl around it until the two were wildly mating, turning Chase raw with a greater need. His arm was around her, one hand splayed between her shoulder blades, while his other hand remained on the smoothness of her neck.

  The bulky jacket kept him from getting as close as he wanted, the jacket and the hands and arms beneath it, holding onto it. Frustrated and unable to control the powerful and primitive desires too long suppressed, Chase untangled his mouth from hers and sought the lobe of her ear, taking it between his teeth and nibbling at it, wanting to eat all of her and feed this insatiable appetite that consumed him. His hand glided down her throat, paving the way for his kisses and pushing aside the dusty collar of his jacket to expose the hollow of her neck and shoulder. He felt her tremble and heard a faint moaning sound. He was pleased to know he was affecting her with his caresses, drawing her into eddying currents of passion with him. Yet the embrace was too one-sided. He was doing all the holding and touching. His body craved the sensation of her caress.

  “Give me your hand,” his husky voice instructed, and Maggie slipped a hand through the overlapping folds of his jacket.

  He guided it to the solidness of his bare chest. Her fingers spread over the heat of his skin, muscles contracting in a quiver beneath her touch. She began a tactile exploration of his manly torso and found it more exciting to touch than to admire at a distance. Curling chest hairs softly brushed her sensitive palms; nerve ends tingled in delighted reaction. Muscles rippled in his shoulder and arm, and Maggie gloried in the contained strength beneath her fingers.

  His mouth came back to claim her lips in a driving possession. The raw urgency of his kiss pushed her backward, his arm slowly lowering her to the ground. The jacket cushioned her naked flesh from the gravely bed of sand. His hand traced her arm, using it to insinuate his way inside the jacket. The sure, easy cupping of her breast in his palm made the intimacy seem so natural. Her fingers loosened their hold on the jacket. Somewhere, she lost the reason for keeping it shut. The coolness of the air against her skin only made the warmth of his touch all the more pleasurable; and it left her other hand free to double the amount of territory she could explore. Also, there wasn’t anything in the way to stop him.

  The firm roundness of her breasts was his undoing. If he had possessed the strength of will to stop before they went too far, Chase lost it at that moment. All he retained was the control to take it slow and make it an experience that would be as gratifying for her as it was going to be for him.

  His thumb circled the rosy peak of a breast, feeling it grow hard under his stimulation. Then his mouth began a slow foray to its irresistible lure, but was sidetracked by other attractions on the way—the leaping pulse in her throat, the tantalizing hollow at the base of her neck, and the delectable curve of a shoulder bone. Finally reaching his destination, his tongue encircled the hard button of her breast and she breathed in sharply in reaction, drawing away from him.

  Chase kissed the rounded curve. “Don’t be frightened,” he murmured.

  Frightened. Was that what she was feeling? She was nervous, but there wasn’t any fear involved. It was a sensual adventure, discovering the untapped depths of her desires. Each new touch introduced her to a whole new realm of sensation. She, who was so clear-headed, practical, and realistic, was being carried away by passion. What was more, she was enjoying every second of the dazzling journey.

  Her hands glided over the bulging muscles of his arms to the back of his shoulders, silently assuring him that she wasn’t afraid. A slender hand curved itself to thickly corded muscles of his neck, fingers sliding into shaggy dark hair to apply a downward pressure when his mouth opened on her breast and he took the nipple inside it. His erotic suckling caused a peculiar tightening of the muscles low in her stomach, creating a raw ache that begged to be assuaged. She writhed slightly in an attempt to ease the building pressure, tightly clenching her inner thighs together.

  Aware of the signaling movement, Chase let his hand roam downward from her breast while his tongue and lips continued to give it their attention. On the slow descent, his hand caressed the curve of her waist and briefly cupped her hipbone, then paused on the quivering flatness of her lower stomach. At the slight arching of her hips against its weight, his fingers slid into the silky patch of hair and rubbed the area with a gentle firmness.

  Instinctively, her hips began to move in slow, rhythmic gyrations. Sidetracking her attention, he dragged his mouth from the peak of one breast to let it climb to the crest of the other. While he teethed the pointed crown, his massaging fingers made a more intimate search until he could feel the warm moistness of her. Soft animal sounds of pleasured torment came from her throat as she writhed and arched her hips high to further his entry. She was driven wild by the sensation.

  Heat flamed through him at this totally uninhibited response. With a groan, Chase ripped his mouth from her breast to bruise her lips, separating them with the hard thrust of his tongue. His own fevered throbbing was driving him; need was screaming through his system. While one hand continued to work her until she was loose and ready, the other unbuckled his belt and unfastened his Levi’s. She moaned in protest when he took his hand away to hunch out of his pants.

  Wedging her legs apart with his knee, he slid himself between them, priming her again with his hand before attempting entry. Hot eagerness boiled inside him, but he beat it down, probing into her by slow degrees. When he reached the thin barrier of her virgin veil, his first attempt to pierce it brought a muffled outcry of pain. She twisted away from his mouth, pushing at his chest with her hands as she tightened her legs and hips in an attempt to force him out. Chase held himself still with an effort.

  “No.” Her head was turned away from him, her eyes tightly shut as her hips continued to strain from him. “Don’t.” Her voice was husky, disturbed, but not pleading.

  He stroked her hair with a trembling hand, brushing his mouth across her jaw and cheek. “It’s too late, Maggie. I can’t stop now,” he muttered thickly. “Don’t pull away from me. It will only make it worse. It always hurts the first time, but don’t fight me, honey. I swear it won’t hurt for long.”

  After a long second, Chase could feel her forcing her body to relax, but she kept her face turned away from him. He began kissing her neck while his hands slid down to hold her hips still. When he moved against her again, she tensed but didn’t struggle. Chase was as gentle
as he could be, but he knew it wasn’t enough as her fingernails dug into his shoulders and a choked sound of pain ripped through her throat at his penetration. With slow, steady strokes, he carved out the opening. The shuddering tension of near-satisfaction grew hard within him, but he knew it was too soon and forced himself to stop to contain it.

  When he ceased his movements, she slowly brought her face around. He concentrated on the ivory smoothness of her features and the vivid contrast of her black hair. He was shaken by the rare combination of pride, beauty, and strength.

  “I didn’t know anyone could have such beautiful white skin and hair so black—blacker than a midnight sky.” His heavy-lidded gaze wandered slowly over her face and hair in loving approval.

  “Is it over?” It was a quick, tightly worded question, disillusionment clouding her green eyes.

  The look reminded him of a child given a lollipop that promised sweetness and tasted like chalk. A smile gentled the hard angles of his features.

  “The pain is over, honey,” Chase assured her softly. “Now the pleasure starts.”

  He brought his lips to hers, kissing them softly while his hand cupped and caressed her breast. The sure, steady stimulation by all parts of his body soon persuaded her hips to move in instinctive rhythm with him. Beads of perspiration formed on his upper lip as he sought the right ways to please her and lift her to the crescendo pitch of satisfaction while holding off his own.

  Blood pounded through his veins, pulsing molten hot. He began to lose his grip on reality. There were no longer two heartbeats—only one. There weren’t two bodies, but two matching halves coupled in a frenzied reunion. It went on and on for an eternity of minutes until their joy in each other reached a shuddering climax.

  Holding her close against him, Chase lay on his back and stared at the dazzling blue sky overhead. Both of them were quivering in a kind of stunned aftershock. His hand was burrowed into the slight dampness of her hair, while she rested her cheek on the hard pillow of his chest. Thoroughly content, he angled his head to see the way she curled against him.

  “I was right, wasn’t I? I did give you pleasure.” He wanted to hear her say it, to know beyond any doubt that it had been a shared experience.

  She tipped her head way back to meet his eyes, boldly proud, exhibiting no shyness. “Yes.” The simple affirmative answer told him all he needed to know and more.

  Chase took a deep breath and forgot to let it out as his eyes ran over this girl who was all woman. In his twenty-two years, he’d known only two kinds of women—the ones you respected, and the ones you didn’t. He dated the first kind and bedded the second. Yet Maggie didn’t fit into either category. She was fifteen going on twenty-six. She had been a virgin when he’d taken her, but there were no recriminating tears in her eyes now. As crazy as it sounded, he had more respect for her now than for the women society indicated deserved it. Chase realized that he didn’t want it any other way.

  His arm tightened around her middle to carry her with him when he sat up. He slipped a hand under her knees to lift her into the cradle of his arms as he pushed to his feet. Automatically, she curved a hand around his neck for support. Her glance was curious, but she asked no questions.

  Chase stopped beside the upright stick he’d draped his shirt on. “Grab my shirt.”

  He waited until she had unhooked it, then carried her to the river, setting her feet down by the water’s edge. Taking the shirt from her, he dipped it in the water, then turned back to her to gently wash the dark stain of lost virginity from between her legs. When he had finished, she reached for the shirt. Puzzled, Chase hesitated before releasing it to her. He watched while she rinsed it, then straightened to wash him. He was moved by the pink color in her cheeks, a sign she was slightly embarrassed by her boldness.

  Taking the shirt away from her and tossing it aside, he crooked a finger under her chin and lifted it. She looked into his eyes with a natural directness, the top of her head barely reaching his shoulder. The smallness of her made Chase feel massive, the protective male instinct surging strong within him.

  “Maggie.” All the hundreds of things he didn’t know how to say were wrapped up in that one word. His hands framed her face as he bent to kiss her with a gentle fierceness. Her slender hands gripped his wrists, holding onto him. Reluctantly, Chase lifted his head, unaware of the stirring breeze that swept his shirt into the river, where the sluggish current caught it and carried it downstream. “It’s getting late.” A grim smile touched his mouth as he let her go and walked back to the dying fire.

  Pulling on his pants, he didn’t bother to zip them yet and reached to pick up his nearly dry socks, standing on one foot to put them on. He was tugging his boots on when he noticed Maggie watching him, his jacket clutched in front of her for warmth, still naked beneath it.

  “What’s the matter?” Chase straightened, raising a puzzled eyebrow.

  “You haven’t given me back my clothes,” she reminded him.

  The sound of his throaty laughter made her smile. The world had never been more perfect than it was at this minute. Maggie wasn’t sure what she was feeling, except that it was right. Which was why she didn’t examine it too closely, in case its beauty faded like one of her father’s elusive dreams.

  Chase’s horse had wandered under the cottonwoods to graze on the tender young stalks of grass growing at the base of their trunks. The trailing reins had kept it from straying very far. It shied when Chase approached. A softly spoken command had it standing quietly while Chase untied the bundle on the back of the saddle. Returning to the fire circle, he tossed the clothes to her.

  While she dressed, he walked to the river’s edge for his shirt, not staying to watch her, as she had watched him. Maggie supposed there were some people who would have considered it improper the way she had stared so openly at his physique. But she didn’t understand why it should be wrong to admire a man’s body. Men stared at women all the time. She was tucking her shirt into her jeans when Chase came back, still shirtless, to pick up his jacket.

  As he shrugged his shoulders into it, Maggie asked, “Where’s your shirt?”

  “It must have been blown into the river and sunk.” He didn’t sound concerned about it, but she guessed he probably had a closetful of shirts. So what was the loss of one? He kicked gravel onto the fire and scattered the embers. “Are you ready to leave?”

  “Sure.” She piled her hair under her hat as she walked to the log where she’d left her horse tied.

  Chase was in the saddle and waiting for her when she mounted. “I’ll ride with you part of the way,” he said.

  Maggie led the way through the trees and up the shallow ravine to the wide, open plains. Facing the broken ridges to the north, she set her horse at a canter. Chase moved his mount abreast of hers. They cut the trampled trail the Shamrock cattle had left and turned onto it. It was a short mile to the boundary fence where strands of barbed wire forced them to stop.

  Dismounting, Maggie walked to a wooden post and kicked out the stone, wedging it in the posthole. Drooping wire permitted the post to sag flat on the ground. Chase stepped on it, holding it down while Maggie led her horse across the downed barbed wire. Together, they set the post in the ground again, Chase steadying it upright while Maggie stomped the wedging rock into place. When it was finished, they stood on either side of the fence, postponing the parting a moment longer.

  “I’ll be seeing you,” Chase stated, dissatisfied with the phrase, but finding none other that he was willing to say.

  “Take care.” She kept her response casual. Standing on tiptoes, Maggie took the initiative and leaned over the top wire, prompting Chase to kiss her one last time.

  She turned away from the fence before Chase did, gathering the reins to her horse and stepping into the saddle in a quick hop. As she reined her horse toward the sloping rise to the ridge top, she waved to him over her shoulder, and received an answering salute. She felt suddenly sad to hear the hoofbeats galloping away fro
m the fence while she started her bay up the slope.

  Near the crest of the ridge, Angus O’Rourke sat silently on his horse, shadowed by a clump of pines. He had come back to see what was keeping Maggie and pulled up when he saw her approaching the fence, accompanied by none other than Chase Calder. His first thought was that she was being escorted off Calder land. And he’d been angry—but not angry enough to ride down and confront the man. His muttered abuse of the high-handed and arrogant ways of the Calders had been issued from afar.

  But Maggie had kissed him … with the ease of a pair of lovers. The sight shook him all the way to the bone. She was just a little girl. He damned the Calders a thousand times over for corrupting innocent children. It was time he was having a talk with her, explain some of the facts of life to her. If only Mary Frances was here, he thought. She would handle it so much better—woman to woman. It was difficult for a man to put it in terms delicate enough for a young girl’s ear.

  He watched her ride up the slope, unknowingly coming straight toward him. His horse whickered at its stablemate. The serene smile went from her expression when she saw him. She briefly checked her mount, then let it continue on.

  The sharp look she gave him made Angus explain his presence. “I came back to look for you.” The ground became rocky, forcing her to bring her horse down to a walk the last couple of yards.

  “Sure, Pa.”

  Something in her attitude irritated him—a vague smugness, as if she knew a glorious secret that she wasn’t going to share. “How come the Calder boy was with you? Where’d you meet up with him?”

  “At the river.” Her gaze never left the land breaking in front of her.

  Her answer didn’t tell him anything, certainly not what was uppermost in his mind. “He kissed you.”

  “Yes, he did.” She turned her head to give him a cool look.

  Suspicion crowded into his mind. There was a swollen softness to her lips and a secretive aura about her. “What else did he do?”