Her Vigilante Passion Read online

  “Please.” The strangled whisper got it for her. His hand reached between her legs, urging her to widen her stance, all the while holding her upright as his head dipped farther down. He licked her in a languid sweep from just behind her throbbing opening, all the way to her clitoris, and her pelvis rocked convulsively. “Adam, I can’t stand this, can’t stand period! I need…need…”

  But what she needed got lost in the waves of sensations that ricocheted through her sopping channel as his tongue penetrated her vagina. He licked her deep, likely suffocating himself in the folds of her pussy as his tongue danced inside her opening, wiggling and swiping at her flaming walls until the release exploded out of her. Still, he didn’t stop. He drank from her, lapping at the juices that flowed like a river from her center until the last of the convulsions subsided and she could stand no more. Lara folded boneless to the ground, only absently hearing his soft chuckle as he got tangled in her skirts on her way down.

  “It seems you might have been right, Miss Franklin.” Adam’s lips glistened with her moisture and a prideful grin as he moved over her.

  Breathless, her body numbed by the onslaught of the orgasm, but already starting to respond to the feel of his wide hips spreading her legs, Lara could only lift a brow. “Oh? And what might I have been right about?”

  “That chore appears to have whooped my ass. You’re still clothed.” He glanced at her dress, now bunched between them at her waist. “At least in part.”

  Lara tried to laugh, but only managed a snicker. “And you, Mr. Stonewell, are still fully clothed.”

  “Am I?” He held himself above her, the muscles in his arms more pronounced as he rested his weight on his hands on either side of her head.

  Her eyes widened in surprise as the swollen head of his penis pushed between her pussy lips. At some point between the marvelous release he gave her and their fall in a tangled heap on the ground, he managed to free his cock from his britches. “Smooth, romantic, and tender,” she said softly, her hands finding the grip they searched for only moments before, now in the corded muscles of his shoulders. “What more could a woman ask for in a cowboy?”

  The answer to the question flittered through her mind, but she just as quickly jostled it aside. Marriage. That’s what a woman could ask for, a lifetime commitment from the man she loved.

  “Amazing, lovely, and feisty,” Adam countered as he eased his cock all the way inside her aching channel. “What more could a cowboy ask for in a lady?”

  The way his cock filled her, stretched her, felt nothing short of utter bliss. Her body sang from the penetration. Her inner muscles clamped around his shaft in an effort to hold his cock captive as he deliberately pulled back. Her hold eased only slightly as he sank inside her core once more.

  A bead of sweat trickled down his temple. She reached up to wipe it away. “I am your lady, Adam Stonewell,” she felt compelled to say, though she harbored no doubt he already knew.

  He didn’t say anything in return but instead captured her mouth in another of those searing kisses that sped her straight up the side of the orgasmic mountain despite the ride's tender slowness. Her hands moved to the small of his back, holding him closer, marveling in the way the muscles flexed in his back and buttocks as he pushed inside her. When he erupted, she came with him, her body quaking from a force no less debilitating than the last, as he bathed her channel in his hot cum.

  Breathless and spent, Lara didn’t move a muscle as he rolled off her to lie at her side, his arm strapped possessively over her waist. Her eyes fluttered closed as she expelled another of her truly contented sighs, but her happiness wavered when a set of eyes so like Adam’s but blue in color, filled her darkened vision.

  * * * *

  Adam splayed his hand on Lara’s belly, the ache to feel that flat part of her rounded with his child as bone deep and intense as ever. Despite his desire to stay like this until the end of time, he knew they should be going before a ranch hand came upon them in their most precarious state. Still, he couldn’t find the strength to do more than rise to one elbow, the better to gaze down at her. He hadn’t missed the shadow that darkened her extraordinary eyes just before she closed them. The remnants of it settled now in the slight frown that marred her luscious lips.

  “I love you, Lara.”

  Her eyes opened at his whispered declaration, her expression softening. “Oh, Adam, I know. As you should know that I love you.”

  He did, of course, though she rarely said the words aloud. He figured it hard for her to admit the depth of her feelings when he knew he didn’t possess her heart alone.

  “Were you thinking about him just now?” He needed to ask, to know.

  “Yes.” Tears trembled on the edge of her voice.

  She didn’t attempt to lie, to hide her thoughts of Luke. It pleased Adam that she would give him truth no matter how tainted by pain. A strand of her golden hair flirted with the corner of her troubled hazel eye. He brushed it down with the back of his thumb. “Don’t fret over it.”

  Lara bolted upright. She grappled for the bodice of her gown, covering her breasts as she glared at him incredulously. “Don’t fret over what exactly, Adam? Don’t fret over Luke? Don’t fret over you? Don’t fret over the fact that I can’t get your brother out of my mind even when I’ve so recently made love with you?”

  Damn if the woman didn’t become even more beautiful when she got angry, Adam mused as he watched her. Color rose to redden her cheeks as her hazel eyes flashed beneath a veil of long lashes. Her blond hair tumbled in waves around her face and down her back to graze at the cleft of her delectable ass. Her body exuded pure wicked temptation, and her personality fit that of the devil’s siren.

  He allowed a grin to unfold on his lips, knowing it would only serve to stroke her temper's flame. “All of that.”

  “But…but…” She sputtered and then all the fight seemed to leave her in an instant. Her shoulders slumped, and she turned more fully to face him. “Adam, I’m sor—”

  He held a finger to her lips and finished her sentence for her. “You're not going to apologize for anything you think or feel.”

  Still, she tried anyway. “But I’m—”

  “A wonderful, beautiful, sexy spitfire that I love with all my heart,” he said, cutting her off again. He sat up and pulled her closer. He helped her put her dress back on her shoulders and fastened the front closed before guiding her to sit in his lap. “It’s all right, sweetheart.” He caught the side of her head and eased it down to rest on his shoulder. “I know Luke is never far from your mind. He’s never far from my own.”

  “It’s so unfair to you.” She rolled her head on his shoulder to look up at him. “You’re not my second choice,” she told him, her tone vehement in its conviction. “I love you, too. You know that, right?”

  Adam nodded. “I do.” He never doubted it for an instant. Her love for him burned just as strong as it did for Luke, just as his and his brother’s love for her burned equal and ferocious. He and Luke intended to share her. No other answer made sense. She belonged to them both, right until the night Luke banished himself from the territory.

  Hell, who did Adam think he could kid with that? She still belonged to them both even if Luke remained nowhere to be found.

  “Do you think he’ll come back, Adam? Do you think if he gets wind of what happened to your pa, Luke will come back to help with the ranch?”

  The hope that quavered in her voice sliced at Adam’s heart. He tightened his arms around her waist, offering the only comfort he knew he could give. The Lord knew his words wouldn’t help any. “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

  Lara shook her head and went on as if she hadn’t heard him. “He won’t come back for that. He would know he doesn’t have to be here for the ranch. He knows you will take care of this land.”

  Adam sighed. He couldn’t stake an argument to that. “Best we can hope for is that he comes back to see how Pa’s making it after the accident. Luke cares ab
out Pa. I can’t imagine he’d stay away after what’s happened to him.”

  “Why not? Luke already proved his belief in justice holds higher than love.” Lara got to her feet. Though she kept her back to him, Adam could tell by the way she stood that she’d crossed her arms tightly around herself, wrapping her hands around her elbows for self-induced comfort. “Or maybe he didn’t. Maybe he never…”

  Adam rose as her words trailed off. The implication in her words, her tone, hit his gut like a heavy stone. He stepped to her back, folding his arms beneath hers at her waist. “He loved you.” He put as much assurance in the statement as he could muster, needing her to believe the truth for no other reason than to spare her more pain. God, he could hate his brother for what he did to their woman.

  Lara looked at him over her shoulder. The glimmer of tears she blinked away tore at his very soul. She kissed him, a light brush of her lips to his, and nodded. “I know.” Her voice cracked, and she swallowed visibly. “We should be getting back. There’s still that line of fence to the west you haven’t checked.”

  Chapter Two

  Lara listened to her father's objections even as she reminded herself how grateful she felt that nothing tragic befell him like what happened to Adam's pa. As her father ran out of steam, she squared her shoulders and prepared her own arguments in favor of what she wanted. Rather than face him, she dragged the cloth over the already pristine surface of the bar and spoke loud enough for him to hear her. “I’ll be fine, Pa. I’ve proved many times over that I can handle the customers we get on a Monday night.” If anyone came in at all, which would likely be the case. Their biggest customers came from the neighboring ranches shortly after quitting time and generally only on Friday or Saturday nights. They served the occasional straggler or passer through the remaining nights of the week.

  “I still say working behind the bar isn’t a fitting job for a lady, Lara,” John Franklin grumbled. “I shouldn’t allow it, shouldn’t have ever let it start in the first place.”

  “But you did, and you’re not stopping it now.” Lara turned toward her father, the loving smile on her lips coming as easy as the swell of pride in her heart. Edging upon fifty with a head of graying hair and a formidable face despite being etched by lines and wrinkles, darned if her father didn’t appear to be getting more handsome the older he got. “You need me behind this bar. You can’t work this place by yourself all the time. Anyways, I like working back here, Pa. You know that.”

  “Only ’cause I messed up raising you,” John argued. “No self-respecting lady ever got brought up to work behind a bar.”

  Lara angled her head and planted her balled fists on her hips. “This self-respecting lady did, and I won’t have you blaming yourself for the way you raised me. I like my life, and I enjoy serving drinks behind this bar, so go back there and hole up with your friends for a few hours. I’ll be fine out here.”

  John’s brows drew together, and his lips pursed. “Sure didn’t raise you to talk proper to your Pa neither, did I?”

  Lara giggled and tossed down the bar cloth. She walked to her father and planted a noisy kiss on his cheek. “You raised me to say exactly what’s on my mind, and that’s precisely what I just did. Now go.” She grabbed his shoulders, turned him around, and gave him a lightly forceful push forward. “If I need anything, I know where to find you, and Adam is right there, too.” She tipped her chin at Adam sitting at the piano in the far corner. “I’m not alone. I’ll be just fine.”

  “Yes.” He covered her hand on his shoulder with his own and gave it a quick squeeze. “I expect you will.”

  Lara watched him until he disappeared into the back room where several of his poker friends already waited. After a moment, she shook her head and let a soft chuckle escape. She loved her father and understood full well his desire to see her happy because she harbored the same hope for him. He’d lost so much, suffered so much, and none of it by his own doing.

  “He worries about you.” Adam’s words cut into her thoughts. Melodic chords in an upbeat rhythm followed his statement and then the piano grew silent once more. “It’s a man’s place to worry about a woman, whether daughter or wife.”

  Lara nodded and returned to her spot behind the bar. He stayed here night after night, she knew, for exactly that reason. He used the excuse of playing the piano, and he enjoyed it. The enthusiasm in which he stroked the ivory keys left no doubt about that. Still, he spent his nights in the saloon to keep watch over her, to protect her.

  “You’re right, of course.” She sighed. “It’s only natural, I suppose. More than, given that I’m all he’s got.” Her mother had died of typhoid fever shortly after Lara’s birth. Though she nudged him into a social engagement or three over the years, her father never remarried. He was a business man rather than a rancher, born to the unlikely combination of a banker and a whore. He opened the saloon, seeing the lack of a watering hole in this part of the territory and the opportunity to cash in on a livelihood for his family.

  Though she remembered nothing of her mother, Lara heard tale that Lucille Franklin loved the idea of owning a saloon and often sang along with the pianist on any given night the mood struck her. She held on to her reputation as a lady, too, Lara mused, and was the favored one of the town of Wildwood after Jeb’s birth.

  Lara’s gaze shifted to the door of the saloon and fell slowly to the dusty wooden floor. She could still see his body sprawled there, still see the blood, though two years had passed since that horrible evening. She still felt the pang of horror, too, the deep-set sadness at the loss of her brother. As the oldest by close to three years, Jeb stepped in to help raise Lara after their mother’s passing. He’d worked the saloon, too, and taught her what she knew of serving behind the bar, right up until the night he’d been shot down walking through the door.

  She shivered as the memories of that fearful night chilled her blood. Pushing them away, she turned around and shot a wide smile at Adam. “Play something, will you, Adam? Play something upbeat and exciting.”

  Adam waggled his brows. His return smile widened so that it reached his sparkling emerald eyes. “As my lady requests.” He touched the brim of his cowboy hat, tipping his head at her slightly, and then his fingers began the exotic dance over the piano keys that she loved to hear.

  Lara watched him for a long while, her elbows propped on the bar, her attention fixated on the glorious male specimen at the piano. Adam Stonewell proved a man of many talents. No doubt about them apples. Poetry, music, and magic all wrapped into one. She drank in the sight of him. His handsome face set in an expression of intense concentration. The muscles of his upper body rippled as he moved to the song's beat. His fingers worked the ivory keys, stroking them with an eroticism that tightened her nipples and wet her folds. She knew how those talented fingers would feel on her flesh, moving in much the same way they did on the piano.

  Adam glanced up, his gaze slamming into hers, and his eyes flashed with a knowledge that told her he knew precisely the thoughts going through her mind. He licked his lips and dropped his gaze suggestively down her upper body in a slow glide that affected her as viscerally as a physical caress. She sucked in a breath, shivering as his gaze climbed her body once more. The sly dog. He knew precisely what that kind of look from him did to her. He wanted to play dirty? Fine. Two could play that game.

  She gave him a sultry look beneath the veil of her lashes as she turned her back to him. She stepped to the side until she knew her back would be in full view around the edge of the bar and then wiggled her hips to the beat. He threw his head back and laughed, the sound so joyous it carried over the song.

  Lara laughed, too. She preferred slow nights such as this, when only she and Adam occupied the saloon. It didn’t put money in her father’s pockets, but it put a peaceful, playful fun in her heart.

  Hips swinging, she busied herself wiping the mugs and cups behind the bar. A part of her mind registered the stumble of the music as Adam’s fingers fumbled the c
hords. Her entire world stopped a split-second later at the unyielding wall of muscle that pressed to her back.

  Everything inside and out of Lara froze, her breath catching, her movements ceasing as the impossibility swirled with the hope in her belly and heart. There should’ve been fear for a set of wide, strong, unforgiving hands clasped her hips, holding her steady. The breath she managed to draw in should’ve given her the strength to scream. Instead, she used it to draw in the woodsy scent of a man she likely should’ve given up on long ago, but never quite found herself able to do.

  “I always loved the way you moved.” The warmth of his breath fanned her earlobe, his voice as dangerously erotic and devilish as she remembered.

  Unable to stop herself, Lara covered the hands on her hips with hers and gave her hips another suggestive sway. He stood so close that her lower back rubbed his groin, the evidence of his stiffening cock apparent against her spine.

  “Jesus, Miss Franklin, you still know how to drive me loco.” Luke Stonewell growled and nipped her earlobe with his teeth before stepping away from her with the speed of a man who suddenly got burned.

  * * * *

  Luke figured if he’d been marked by a dozen cattle brands his flesh wouldn’t burn as badly as it did after those few short seconds of holding Lara Franklin’s lithe body against him after two long years. He knew better than to come here, knew he should’ve stayed as far from the golden-haired angel of his dreams as possible. Yet the saloon called to him like a demon in the night, beckoning him to come a calling the minute he hit Wildwood.

  Damn if walking through that door hadn’t been the hardest thing he’d ever done in his miserable excuse for a life.

  “Luke?” She said his name questioningly as if afraid she might be wrong.