Chapter 5

Prudence wondered what she’d done that had gotten him so ornery so fast. Although she did seem to have that effect on a lot of people.

Jake was braced up on his arms, his sex pressed just inside her entrance, and he trembled—but was it rage or passion?

And the questions he had asked her! Her cheeks burned with the thought she’d actually told him so much about her one experience.

So she hadn’t actually seen Jerry Hanson’s cock. No, she hadn’t held it in her hand— or her mouth! But she knew from the way Jake’s cock stretched her tender inner tissues that Jerry couldn’t have been even half as large.

With Jake, she felt like she was embarking on a sensual journey for which she’d prepared herself very poorly indeed. She’d thought she needed to know what sex was all about. She’d agreed to let Jerry breach her maidenhead because, deep down, she’d wanted to be the sort of adventurous woman someone like Jake would want.

She hadn’t wanted to be a scared little virgin who didn’t know her way around a man’s body, but it seemed she hadn’t chosen the right man to initiate her.

So she lay beneath Jake’s body, her own frame trembling with trepidation as well as a burning, unfurling desire. “It really doesn’t hurt all that much,” she said quietly, offering him a smile.

He snorted again, his eyes closing tightly for a moment before glaring down at her. “Liar.”

“Some parts have been wonderful…”

“I’m going to start moving,” he said, grinding his teeth audibly. “If it’s too much…”

“I’ll be sure to yell.”

“Damn.” He gave her a tentative thrust, moving just an inch or two deeper.

Her back arched, and she gasped. “That’s not so bad.”

“Sure. And you always grit your teeth when something pleases you?”

“All right,” she huffed. “It hurts…a little. Will you just get on with it?”

His lips curved in a feral smile. He looked more like a wolf than a bear now. “Put your legs around me. The ride’s gonna get a little rough.”

That growling, rumbling bass did things to her. Wicked things. A fresh wash of arousal glazed her channel and the head of his enormous cock.

Somehow that seemed to ease his entry, and he grunted as he glided deeper and pulled away. Then he came back, pressing further inward, circling his hips to screw himself into her, stretching her channel and pumping softly while sweat broke on his forehead and upper lip.

Prudence noted every change in his demeanor as he went from taut, angry hunger and eased into a smoldering, sliding rapture. She could tell how he felt by the way his muscles trembled then tightened and by the way his face went from reddening strain to a slackening glory that said he’d forgotten who was beneath him as he stroked harder, deeper.

Her own body softened and moistened, perspiration beading on her own face and glazing her breasts and belly, easing his gliding movements as his body ground and chafed and plunged against her, into her.

Her arms came up to circle beneath his arms and around his back so she could flatten her palms on the muscles that flexed and tightened, reminding her of the power he still leashed inside him. Slowly, as her body eased and stretched and accepted, she became hungrier, needier for all that power to let loose inside and over her.

How could she convince him she was ready? Her tight channel clasped him, rippling along his shaft. Dear God, she could feel that, too.

“More, please,” she groaned.

“Damn, girl. Let me do this right.”

“Please,” she keened, curving her hips upward and digging her nails into his backside, urging him deeper.

He thrust faster, his strokes more gloriously punishing, prodding deeper, cramming tighter, grinding slightly at the end of each sharpening thrust.

Prudence felt that curling lick of heat tighten around her womb and arched her back, crying out, “Now! Oh God, please now!”

“Damn!” Jake ground out. Then he reared up, hooked her thighs beneath his arms, and lifted her buttocks from the mattress.

With his hot, feral gaze holding hers captive, he slammed his hips into hers, over and over, shaking her entire frame with the strength of his thrusts.

Her belly and breasts quivered and shook; her breaths grew short, labored, and rasping. The friction of his thick sex thrusting endlessly inside her burned and melted her inner channel.

Creamy fluid released from deep inside her to ease his powerful thrusts as they grew harder. His belly and groin slapped in the wetness pouring from inside her, seeping down between her buttocks to puddle beneath her.

She didn’t care, couldn’t think. Only felt—the burning heat, the sharpening thrusts—until the curling, tightening blackness swept over her again, and she cried out, arching, strung as taut as a bowstring while she exploded—too overcome with sensations, one atop the other, to capture.

His guttural groan soon followed, and he abruptly pulled out, leaving her empty.

She opened her eyes to see him pulse his hips, his cock thrusting into the air, stripes of pearly fluid spurting from him to land on her soft belly in silvery ribbons.

His head was flung back, his arms quivering beneath her thighs as his movements slowed, and he drew a deep, ragged breath.

When his eyes opened, his gaze seared her with heat. Here was her fierce warrior. The one she’d dreamed of—his face taut and sharp, his eyes as black as midnight.

He blinked and slowly drew his arms from beneath her legs and lay over her, supported on his elbows so that she could breathe freely. Their chests billowed against each other.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

She drew a deep breath and offered a smile. “Better than all right.”

“Not too rough?”

“Just rough enough.”

His lips curved into a smile of pure masculine satisfaction. He framed her face with his rough palms and leaned over, brushing her lips once, then drawing away, climbing off the bed to stretch his back. His arms reached high, then dropped to his sides. “I’ll be busy today.”

Was he giving her an excuse not to linger in her bed? The thought stung. Obviously, what had happened between them hadn’t been as cataclysmic for him. “Me, too.”

His gaze narrowed, raking over her naked body. “Stay away from the saloon tonight.”

She resisted the urge to pull the coverlet over her. Now that her body was cooling off, embarrassment rose to sting her cheeks again. “I don’t have any intention of being there. You’ll be careful?”

“I’ll be prepared.” He reached for his clothing and started to dress.

She was thinking about what a shame it was that she didn’t have more time just to look her fill. His body was so interesting—so well formed. When he pulled his pants over his waning cock, he winced, and she smothered a grin.

What would Katarina do at a time like this? Prudence rolled to her side and rose on an elbow, striking a feminine pose that emphasized her meager curves. “Will I see you later?”

His expression darkened, his gaze sweeping from her breasts to her hips before meeting her gaze. “Depends on you, I guess.”

“If I tell you I’ll answer your knock…?”

He drew a deep breath. “Look, Prudence…”

She steeled herself for rejection. He’d already given her so much. She shouldn’t be greedy. But Lord, she wanted more. “It’s all right. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

A dark brow rose as he shrugged into his suspenders. “Oh, I want to. I’m just wondering if you have anything else you want to tell me.” His steady gaze honed sharp as a steel blade.

Her breath caught. “There’s more. But you really should read that story.”

He paused, looking as though he wanted to say more, then shook his head. “I have to go.” He turned and strode toward the door.

“Be careful.”

A shot a glance over his shoulder. “I always am.”

Then he left.

Prudence eased up from the mattress and grimaced. Her body ached. She was a sticky mess. She’d love nothing better than to take a long nap and maybe let her mind wander back over what had just happened. However, she had a mission—and a cliffhanger ending she had to wrap up.

If everything happened the way she’d written it tonight, it meant tomorrow would have worsening consequences. A chill raised goose bumps on her naked skin.

She stared at her trunk, wondering whether she had the power to influence the ending.

Jake strode into his office, spied his deputy engrossed with a slim volume, and closed the door behind him with a slam.

His deputy, Billy Wells, jumped, his gaze lifting from Prudence’s dime novel. “Hey, boss. Where ya been?”

“Did you find out anything about those gunshots?”

“Sure did,” he said, laying the open novel facedown. “Geezer Fenton and his boys came into town, hootin’ and hollerin’. I took their weapons away from ’em.”

Jake nodded toward the book. “I pay you to spend your day reading?”

His young face flushed red. “I was just passin’ the time waitin’ for ya. Um…boss?”

“Yeah, Billy?”

“This book’s about you.”

Jake blew out a deep breath in exasperation. “It’s a book. A story written by someone who’s never even met me.”

“But…it sounds like you. The way you do things…even talks about a runaway stagecoach you stopped. Just like you did today.”

“And your point is?”

“Don’t ya think it’s a little strange? Um…did you happen to meet a woman on that stage?”

Jake’s gaze narrowed. “Maybe, why?”

“Well, she sounded mighty pretty. Just wondered if her name might’ve been Katarina.”

“Now, you see? There wasn’t any Katarina. Just Mr. Water’s wife returning from a visit with her sick sister and Miz Vogel.”

“Was Miz Vogel pretty?”

Jake rubbed the back of his neck. “Pretty? I guess.” Prettier naked than she was in clothes, that was for damn sure, he thought, remembering her little peach-colored nipples.

“Name of Waters is awful close to Lake. And Miz Waters is a might grumpy.”

“What the hell are you talking about now?”

“Just that I got a peculiar feeling reading this story. It says you’re the new sheriff, but you only got elected a few weeks ago—how’d they know that was gonna happen?”

“Mayor’s been at me for months to run for office. Maybe the writer caught wind of it.”

“There’s a shooting in the saloon—the same night the stage arrives with Katarina.”

“I’ve heard all about it.”

“You gonna check it out tonight?”

“I suppose.” Jake glanced again at the book. “Why don’t you make the rounds? Make sure everything’s quiet.”

Billy grabbed his hat, eager as ever to do whatever Jake asked of him. As soon as he’d cleared the end of the walkway, Jake slid into his seat behind the desk and turned over the novel.

With Prudence’s floral scent, as well as the fading aroma of the sex they’d shared still on his skin, he settled down to read.

Prudence had no intention of entering the saloon.

She’d thought she might casually stroll by and peek into the window, but when she got there, she felt a little foolish loitering near the entrance.

The men who passed to push through the swinging doors gave her strange looks; one even asked her if she might be lost.

Maybe she did look a little conspicuous. The sun had set, and daylight was dwindling. Not the time a lady ought to be on the street.

However, she was dying to find out whether any gamblers were playing cards—and whether Jake had heeded her warning.

She’d dressed in a dark gray skirt and jacket. If she kept to the shadows inside the saloon, maybe no one would notice her. She glanced around her once, then stiffened her spine and pushed through the doors.

All heads turned her way.

So much for no one noticing. She took a deep breath, forced a tight smile on her lips, and looked around for an empty table. As luck would have it, one sat empty in a darkened corner, which provided a perfect view of the entire room. She walked hastily to the table and slid into a seat.

“You sure you want to be here, ma’am?” a soft, musical voice said beside her.

Prudence grasped her valise in her lap and stared up at the painted woman. Her dress was tawdry, a bold, green satin with cream lace along the low neckline. Her generous breasts nearly over-spilled the top.

Aware she stared, Prudence’s face heated. “Is there a problem?” she asked a little sharply.

The woman shrugged. “Guess not. Can I bring you something to drink?”

Prudence blinked. Although she’d had the occasional glass of wine, she wasn’t familiar with most of the spirits a saloon might carry. She brightened. Here was a chance to fill in a few more pesky details. “My name’s Prudence. What would you recommend?”

“Mary, pleased to meet you,” she said, a shy smile tugging at her lips. “Do you drink much?”

Prudence pursed her lips. Should she err on the side of caution? What would Katarina do? “I’ll try a whiskey.”

Mary’s eyes widened. “Would you like it watered down a tad?”

Prudence took Mary’s surprise into account and nodded. “Please. However you would drink it.”

“Danny waters all the girl’s drinks down so’s we don’t get too drunk to work. I’ll ask for one of those.”

Prudence gave her a grateful smile and turned her attention back to the room that had fallen strangely quiet. And no wonder—every set of eyes was trained on her. When Mary slid her glass on her table, Prudence’s hand shook, but she raised her glass to the men. “Bottom’s up!”

Now, why had she said such a thing? They all continued to stare until she realized they were waiting for her to drink down her glass. Steeling herself, Prudence lifted the glass to her lips and poured it down her throat, not letting her nose take too long of a whiff of the revolting drink. It burned all the way down, but she didn’t stop until she’d emptied it and slammed it on the table.

Her eyes teared as she fought the urge to throw it back up. The men exploded with laughter, lifting their own glasses and bottles. But thankfully, their attention returned to their own activities.

“You feeling all right?” Mary whispered next to her. “Do you feel like you wanna turn your insides out?”

Prudence blinked up at Mary and smiled. “Actually, I feel fine. It burned a little going down, but it does warm a body up.” She pulled at the tight collar of her blouse to ease it from her skin.

“Do you mind me askin’ what you’re doin’ here?”

Prudence swung her gaze back to Mary, and the room whirled. “I’m here to see a shooting.”

Mary’s eyebrows furrowed. “Um…that sort of thing never happens here. Danny has a strict rule about firearms in the saloon. Takes ’em all up if the sheriff doesn’t get ’em first.”

“Someone’s going to pull a small Derringer from inside their coat.”

“How do you know that?”

Prudence opened her valise and pulled out a copy of her dime novel. “Page twenty-two,” she said, handing it to the other woman.

Mary’s wrinkled brow mirrored her doubt. “You think something’s gonna happen because it’s in this book?” She eyed Prudence as though she was a card shy of a full deck.

“Mary, everything that book has said so far has happened. I guess I’m just seeing tonight if it’s coincidence or real.”

“Do you mind if I look at it?”

“You can have this copy.”

“Thanks.” Mary’s gaze rose beyond Prudence, and her eyes widened. “Don’t look now, but trouble’s headin’ your way.”

“What do you mean?”

“The sheriff just walked in, and he looks mad as a bear with a hangnail. Gotta go!”

Feeling defiant and just a little queasy, Prudence lifted her glass and then remembered she’d already polished it off. From the corner of her eye, she saw dark-clad thighs bracing apart beside her.

What would he do if she ran her hand along the inside of one of those thick, muscled thighs? Prudence plucked at her collar again. Lord, it was getting warmer.

A hand gripped her elbow and hauled her out of her seat.

She didn’t have any choice but to rise or make a scene, so she stood and faced him, swaying slightly on her feet.

“What did I tell you?” he bit out.

This close, she couldn’t miss the tic that pulsed at the side of his eye or the angry heat in his narrowed glance. Odd, but even though her stomach jumped with trepidation, her sex clenched, and moisture began to flow.

Jake’s hard gaze looked her up and down. “Prudence?” he said, his voice softening, “How much have you had to drink?”

She shook herself, realizing that, once again, he’d caught her staring. “Not much. Just a watered-down whiskey.”

“You ever drink whiskey before?”

She shook her head and blinked, his face suddenly unfocused. Maybe she had finished it off a little too fast.

He lifted a finger and pushed her glasses slowly up her nose. “I’m going to take you to the hotel. Right now.”

Prudence’s head tilted back as she swayed nearer to his broad chest. “Are you going to stay with me?”

He grimaced. “Do you say everything that comes to your mind?”

“Of course not. If I did, I’d have asked if you would stay and get naked with me again.”

A muffled laugh sounded beside her, and she turned to see Mary holding another whiskey.

“Why thanks, Mary,” Prudence said, reaching for the glass.

Mary held it away from Prudence. “Actually, it’s for the sheriff, sweetie. How’s about I bring you some sarsaparilla?”

“You heard what I said, didn’t you, Mary?” Prudence whispered loudly.

“I swear I didn’t hear a thing,” she said, giving the sheriff a wink and walking away.

Prudence groaned and hid her face against his chest.

“Ahh…Prudence.”

It took a moment for her to realize what she’d done, snuggling up to him in public like this. She threw a glance over her shoulder, and sure enough, the whole room watched them with interest.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, pulling away. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

His brows furrowed. “You’re worried about my reputation?”

“You are the new sheriff.”

“Lady,” he said softly, leaning down to whisper. “I’m afraid yours is the one in tatters at the moment. Not only did you tell the room you wanted to get naked with me again, but you snuggled up to me like you had some practice at it.”

Prudence stared at his stern mouth. “Is that bad?”

“It is if you don’t want to be branded my woman.”

“Would that be so bad for you?”

“I can take care of myself.” His hand started to cup the back of her head, and then he straightened, letting his hands drop to his sides. “I wouldn’t want anyone to hurt you—which doesn’t mean I’m not still mad as hell you’re here. Pick up your bag. We’re leaving.”

“But what about the shootout?” she hissed. “The gamblers.”

Jake leaned down, his glare searing. “There won’t be any shooting here tonight.”

Just then, the sound of something crashing to the floor drew their attention to a table on the far side of the room.

“No one’s that damn lucky!” a man said, standing beside the chair he’d overturned.

“What are you saying?” Mr. Stanton from the stagecoach said, slowly rising from his seat.

“I’m saying, I think you had that ace up your sleeve.”

Prudence’s eyes widened as Mr. Stanton’s hand slid inside his coat.

Jake shoved Prudence behind him. “Get on the floor!”