Her Vigilante Passion Read online

  HER VIGILANTE PASSION

  The Lost Collection

  Bonnie Parker

  MENAGE EVERLASTING

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting

  HER VIGILANTE PASSION

  Copyright © 2010 by Bonnie Parker

  E-book ISBN: 1-60601-835-3

  First E-book Publication: May 2010

  Cover design by Les Byerley

  All cover art and logo copyright © 2010 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

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  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

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  HER VIGILANTE PASSION

  BONNIE PARKER

  Copyright © 2010

  Chapter One

  Texas – 1886

  Life couldn’t get much better than this. Lara Franklin felt certain of that fact as the horse she rode side-saddle moseyed along at the direction of the hard-bodied male pressed against her. Strong arms stretched on either side of her body, caging her in a possessive embrace, the wide hands holding fast to the horse’s reins.

  She breathed deep, reveling in the mixed scents of sagebrush and thistle, but the innate spice of man captured her attention above all else. Awareness fluttered in her belly, arousing a perverse urge within her pussy that never quite waned when in the presence of her man.

  “It’s such a beautiful day.” There wasn't anyone or anything around to threaten her peace with the man she loved.

  Lara angled her face into the sun beating down on her from high in a cloudless sky. A gentle breeze stroked the spring air, relieving the heat of the day and caressing her skin as passionately as her lover’s touch. She closed her eyes and listened to the birds singing their harmonious songs. Pure happiness wound through her, and she smiled.

  Blindly, she reached for Adam. His heart beat a steady rhythm against the palm she splayed on his stalwart chest. She rested her cheek on the top of her hand and tipped her head back to look upon him.

  “Say more of those lovely words to me.”

  Adam Stonewell fixed his gaze on her, sending a delicious shiver clear to her toes. The brim of the Stetson he wore shaded his green eyes. He licked thin lips set in a line of easy concentration, and Lara stifled a moan.

  You’re one seriously sexy cowboy.

  She bit her tongue on the compliment, knowing it only embarrassed him when she said so even if it stayed true. Hair as dark as coal and smooth as spun silk peeked beneath his cowboy hat. It framed a lightly wrinkled and virile face tanned by hours in the sun. Hard muscles and rigid planes pressed against her, making her head dizzy with lust. At her hip, the bulge of his cock grew stiffer by the moment. Each step of the horse caused her body to stroke his shaft through the material of his wool trousers.

  Lara’s concentration locked on his lips, on the glistening moisture left behind by his tongue. An echoing wetness saturated her feminine folds.

  “Why, Miss Franklin, I don’t know what words you mean?” His teasing nuance said otherwise, as did the gleam that kindled in his amazing eyes. “Might you be referring to ones such as ‘cattle’ and ‘fence’? For we are supposed to be riding the fence now to check for troubles and to be sure our cattle cannot escape.”

  “Hmm, those will do only if you can find a way to turn them into poetry. Somehow I doubt even you can find romanticism in tattle and tense.”

  Adam’s smile traced sexy paths around his eyes. “Tattle and tense, eh? What an interesting choice of rhyming words. I tell you, were I not such a gentleman, I could find poetry in them.” He waggled his brows suggestively. “Though I can’t say how romantic it would be.”

  Lara’s mind scrambled over the possibilities. She knew of only one way he could make her tense, and it had nothing to do with a fence. Unless he were to bind her to it as his hands teased her bare flesh, denying release to the needy ache in her feverish pussy. Oh, she would be forced to tattle on him then for torturing her so, though she didn’t know whom to tell. The cattle certainly wouldn’t care.

  Her fingers dipped between the buttons of his shirt, lightly fondling the wiry hair that speckled his chest. No one would ever believe such a story of Adam Stonewell anyway. His way of securing a woman lay in sweet, passionate love. She dubbed him her gentle cowboy long ago, sturdy enough to run his family’s ranch but soft enough to steer the heart.

  “A rhyme such as that is always romantic, no matter the words.”

  Adam’s long lashes blinked once over eyes that glinted with passion and promise. He bent his head, brushing a featherlike kiss to her lips. “This is the very ecstasy of love,” he said softly, his tongue wandering across her lower lip.

  Lara’s belly danced as sticky juices seeped from between her sodden folds. Not poetry, but a line from a play. She recognized it the moment the words rolled from Adam’s tender lips. “Yes,” she whispered because the statement rang true. Being with Adam this way, alone on the open lands of the Stonewell ranch, nestled between his legs even hampered by the clothing they wore, could be described as nothing short of both ecstasy and love. “More, please, Adam.”

  “More?”

  Lara could only nod. She wanted more, more lyrical words, more of those arousing swipes of his tongue, more.

  Adam sat up straighter in the saddle
though his head remained down. His gaze seemed almost hypnotic, and she felt herself falling under his spell. “She speaks, yet she says nothing. What of that?”

  Lara’s eyes grew heavy at the sexy, poetic slide of his voice as he began to recite another part of the Shakespeare play. “Yes,” she cooed. “That’s it. Finish it, Adam. Say the whole of it.”

  “Her eye discourses, I will answer it. I am too bold, ’tis not to me she speaks.” He paused, the modulation of the words fondling her like a physical caress. “Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven having some business, do entreat her eyes to twinkle in her spheres till they return.” He tipped his head up, casting a glance to the sky before meeting her gaze once more.

  “What if her eyes were there, they in her head? The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars as daylight doth a lamp. Her eyes in heaven would through the airy region stream so bright that birds would sing and think it were not night. See how she leans her cheek upon her hand.” He released one of the reins to trail the backs of his fingers down the side of her face. “O’ that I were a glove upon that hand, that I might touch that cheek.”

  Lara leaned her face into his touch as he lowered his head again. His lips brushed first her forehead, then the tip of her nose, and finally her mouth. He kissed her as he always kissed her, slow and sweet. His tongue softly coaxed her lips to part, requesting entrance into the recesses of her mouth. When she eagerly obliged him, his tongue swept inside her mouth, tangling with her tongue in a dance as old as mankind.

  His large hand dipped beneath her hair to cup her nape, holding her fast as he explored her mouth in languid licks that sent bolts of erotic madness to her breasts. Her nipples beaded to hardened points against the firmness of his chest. Her already saturated pussy hummed from the need to be blessed with the same treatment he showed her mouth. The heat built in her inner core to an almost unbearable degree. It seemed unfair how easily he could turn her mind, her body, her very soul into a pulsing essence of desire.

  “Please.” The word left her on a breathy sigh as his mouth moved from hers to trail kisses along her jaw to her ear.

  “Please, what, my love?” The evidence of his own growing hunger sounded in his low whisper. He released her nape to glide his palm over her shoulder, down her arm, to cover the hand she placed on his chest.

  Lara’s head fell back and to one side, exposing more flesh for him to taste. “I need you.”

  “You have me, my lady. Can you not feel how my heart beats for you?” His hand pressed hers more firmly to his chest.

  She could. The rhythmic, rapid thump of his heart beneath her palm felt as though it kept time with her own. “Inside me, I need you inside me.” She pulled her hand free, turning it as she slid it down between their bodies to cover his penis. He felt hard and sure, his trousers seeming to strain in its effort to contain the increasing size of his cock. He sucked in a breath. She drew her bottom lip between her teeth, feigning innocence. She folded her fingers around as much of his shaft as she could through his britches. “I need this inside me.”

  He groaned, the sound rumbling from low in his throat, and lifted his head to stare down at her. A faint smile curved the corner of his mouth. “Will you ever tame your blunt speak and brash actions?”

  “Would you love me the same if I did?” She already knew his answer. Compassionate and pliable he might be, but her spitfire tenacity proved long ago to be something he craved.

  “I would love you no matter if you were paralyzed and mute, but I would change nothing about you even if I could.”

  “Good, then guide this horse to a private spot of land so you can fuck me.”

  That got a growl out of him followed by a soft chuckle. He picked up the discarded rein and did exactly as she bid. He brought the horse to a stop near a tree away from the better-traveled areas of the land. He helped her off the horse first, picking her up with a gentle ease and lowering her to stand on her own feet at the horse’s side. Then he dismounted and gave the horse a pat on the rear to send it grazing. His arms wound around her waist, and he slowly reeled her in against his front. His eyes darkened to the color of emeralds, the desire swimming in their depths pulling her in for a dive.

  “Under the greenwood tree, who loves to lie with me?”

  If she didn’t know better, she would think him part gypsy the way he so effortlessly cast her under his spell time and again. She answered him by catching his hands in hers and tugging him beneath the tree. When she released his hands in favor of going for the buttons of his shirt, he caught her wrists.

  “You make me want to go wild sometimes.” He leaned in to bury his face where her neck and shoulder met. His lips closed on her collar bone, gently nibbling, licking, caressing.

  Lara’s head lolled to one side. “Yet you never do.” Icy shards of white-hot rapture rained through her, adding to the fires in her breasts, in her clit, and channel, until her whole body felt ravenous with need. She wanted to touch him, but his grip held firm. Perhaps he just might bind her after all. The idea sent her insides shivering with anticipation.

  “It’s not my way.” He let go of her, but rather than feeling disappointed, she moaned in sheer elation as his hands molded her breasts.

  No, that fact remained forever true. His brother Luke favored the wilder ways, living for excitement and galloping on the edge of danger. Adam fancied tranquility, content with the life dealt to him and taking each day at a slow, ardent gait.

  Knowing that about him, knowing he could keep her body quivering for hours if he possessed half a mind, she began unfastening the buttons of her dress. “I don’t mind so much seeing as I like your way.” Her hands met with his on her chest, and she stopped, the neckline of her dress falling open. The valley of her breasts peeked from the material.

  “Mmm, and yet you continue to torment me.” The pleasure in his eyes told her he didn’t mind the distress one bit.

  “Why, I’m not teasing, Mr. Stonewell.” Lara put on her best coy expression. “I merely seek to help you in the arduous chore of undressing me, is all.”

  That got a laugh out of him, but when he pushed his hands beneath the material of her dress to cover the smooth bare flesh of her breasts, his laughter turned to a moan that echoed hers. The roughness of his callused palms to her sensitized flesh only added to the eroticism of his touch.

  “Do you now?” He caught her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, rolling them in a lightly pressured squeeze. “Might I ask why you’ve suddenly stopped?”

  “I, oh, Adam.” Lara let her head roll back, her eyes closing as twin darts of arousal arrowed from her breasts to her pussy. He expected her to continue when he did this to her? Her hands found his shoulders, and she latched on, using him to hold her upright as her knees weakened and her legs started to tremble.

  “Can’t find an answer, Miss Franklin?” Enjoyment resonated in his voice as he tossed his hat to the ground, quickly removed his gun belt, and leaned in. His mouth joined his hands on her chest. His tongue reached her flesh first. An appreciative moan accompanied his slow and measured licks as though he tasted a succulent fruit in the valley between her breasts. He painted a moist path up the side of her right breast, circling the pebbled surface of her beaded nipple, and finally drawing it into his mouth.

  Lara arched her back, thrusting her chest forward, reveling in the delight of his mouth on her. He worked her nipple with the gentle ease in which he did everything, methodically driving her higher and higher with his unhurried manner.

  “That’s okay,” he said as he swapped his attention to her other breast. “I believe I can finish the task on my own.” His hands put action to his words as he unfastened more of the buttons of her dress, pushing the material off her shoulders and peeling it down her body until it pooled around her waist.

  To both her frustration and delight, his mouth followed the descent of her dress. His tongue painted yet another fiery moist path from her breasts down her abdomen to her belly. He stoppe
d to trace and tickle her bellybutton before detouring to scrape his teeth along the flesh of her hip.

  Lara whimpered. She drove her hands into his thick ebony hair, fisting her fingers in the silky strands. “Run into more troubles, cowboy?” She lifted her head to gaze down at him, loving the way he looked staring up at her from beneath long lashes.

  “Nary a one, my lady. I thought I might take a moment to graze before I uncovered more heavenly pastures.” The corner of his mouth kicked into a boyish grin.

  Knowing he would tease her for hours if she allowed him, she wiggled her hips and felt immense satisfaction when the movement caused the dress to slip another inch.

  “Still intent on helping, aren’t you?”

  “Determined to.”

  “I ought to let you as long as you keep at it this way.” Adam sat back on his haunches. The smirk still tilted his lips. His gaze fixated on her hips. “You’ve got quite a shake going on there.”

  Lara made a truly un-ladylike sound. “This is not how I wish to be shaking right about now, Adam Stonewell.”

  He threw his head back and let out a loud hoot. The devil. Rather than freeing the confining buttons holding the dress in place, he dove beneath the hem, tenting himself beneath her skirt. Before she could think to argue, his tongue found the damp folds of her cleft. One arm wound around her buttocks, the fingers of the other spreading her pussy lips as he snaked a lick over her swollen clit.

  Lara shuddered down to her toes. Her fingers clenched and unclenched. With his head and shoulders—heck, his whole body beneath her skirt—she could find nothing to grab onto for purchase. If not for his arm around her she would surely slither to the ground. She arched her lower body, pressing her pussy against his mouth, seeking more, wanting deeper.