By Popular demand, I wrote a new chapter for "Kate The Kid". Thank you to all my fans, who remind me that writing is for you, the reader.
***
The next day on the trail Rafe was a mess. A virgin. A virgin! The only other woman he'd ever made love to, and there was no foolin' himself that was what it had been on his end, had been his dear wife Faith.
But his thoughts weren't on sweet, meek Faith, they were on a woman with a fiery temper to match her hair, intense passion present even in her innocence. Which he had taken.
"Things not go so well? She seems to be smiling."
Rafe looked at Jerome and saw his friend wince. "Damn it, I don't like this, being watched. Not knowing what's coming. How the hell does she think she knows what she's doing?"
Jerome's grin was lopsided. "So it was good. And let me guess, this time it was the lady who gave you 'don't expect me to hang around' speech, not you."
Rafe fingered his gun, considering, and Jerome's horse was smarter than his master, sidling away.
Jerome snorted. "Fine, I'll leave you to stew." He rode up to Kate and the horse fell in step, responding more to Kate's presence than his urging. "How much longer?"
"Camp one more night and then we meet up. They won't do it out here."
"Why not? It seems perfect."
She kept facing ahead but her eyes scanned watchfully across the horizon. "They'll need proof, and it's a day and a half ride to the nearest town."
Jerome stiffened, and the horse responded to slow down. He watched her go, and Rafe caught up. "Nice gal, ain't she?" his friend said.
"Logical to a fault. I hope Bella knows what she's doing."
And then he watched Rafe's back advance.
***
When they stopped for dinner Kate was so glad she wanted to scream in joy. There had been an aching soreness between her legs all day, and riding hard hadn't helped.
She busied herself building a fire and cooking over Rafe's protests, but it was the best way not to have to talk. She had no idea what she'd say; Kate was scared to death.
Rafe had felt so...right. It had been every dark aching fantasy and dream she'd ever had, but so much more real. So much hotter, so much more a part of her soul as well as her body.
The image of him naked in the water looming over her was branded in her brain forever. The feel of his body, his hands, his...tongue made her close her eyes and want to find someplace secluded.
But it had been a mistake. He was after her, of that she had no doubt. She had to deliver Jerome, and then either Rafe would leave or she would. Either way, she'd be safe.
They ate in silence, and the good meat was gone. With three of them eating, two of them big men with strong appetites, the dried meat wouldn't keep.
So when the sun started to set she stood and got her bow and arrow from her pack on Sweet. "I'm going hunting."
Jerome frowned. "But it's so late."
She smiled down at him, but it was Rafe who caught her eyes. "The best things come out to hunt at night."
She turned and left them by the fire, walking far and clear of it. She'd clean a carcass and again draw off predators, leaving them safe.
So freshly bathed her scent was strong, so she headed towards a small creek to stand downwind of it. She'd hunt the animals drinking after their supper.
This far out the hunting was slim, another javelina was the best she could hope for. A buffalo would be a sheer waste, but damn she was tired of javelina meat.
Crouching in the bushes, she began to wait. A short time later an older javelina wandered into view, large and proud, his territory well surveyed.
Shed drew back the arrow slowly, the bow taut, and then the sound of heavy boots scared the beast away.
"Kate!"
It was Rafe, and she had half a mind to shoot him instead. Sighing, she put the arrow back in her quiver and stood. "Over here, right next to where breakfast was just standing, but you scared him off."
He came into view looking contrite, and far too handsome. "Sorry. I was worried."
She snorted. "For the last time I can take care of my-"
"The last virgin I was...with was sore all the next day. I thought maybe you were having issues, things you couldn't discuss with Jerome around."
Kate felt herself blush, and knew she was probably scarlet. The thought made her drop her heavy bow and hit her boot. She cursed a blew streak and picked it up.
"Damn it, MacNeil, that ain't your concern."
He drew close enough she smelled limes. "Isn't it?"
She backed up but her feet hit the bush, she got tangled, and fell. He was there and caught her easily, lifting her up so her body slid against his.
Her heart was beating in her throat, rapidly, and her breath held. Those amazing green eyes looked into her deeply and his smile made her toes tingle.
"Let me make you feel better."
She didn't respond, nor did she stop him as his arms moved to unbutton her shirt. His eyes bored into her and she was still blushing breathlessly.
"Why do you do this?" Her shirt was open and he was stroking the binding on her breasts.
"Keeps them in check for riding."
He slipped her shirt off and stood back, turning her to undo the cloth strips. She closed her eyes against the twilight; she could see the campfire and didn't want to think about what she was doing, didn't want to wonder if Jerome knew.
He unwrapped them slowly, barring her hot skin to the cool air. When they were free he stepped behind her, drew her back to his chest, and claimed her breasts with his hands.
She moaned as her caressed them, her head falling to his shoulder. He responded by kissing her ear softly, showing none of the hesitation she was feeling, and desperately fighting.
"What are we doing?" she whispered.
"I'm making up for a mistake I made." He turned her then and kissed her deep. She clutched at his rough denim shirt and let her tongue sink into him, the way his had shown her.
His mouth barely leaving hers he pushed them to their knees and then made her lay down in the makeshift bed of her shirt.
He pulled back, his mouth moving to a breast as his hands worked at her gun belt. "Just relax, I know what I'm doing."
He opened her pants and his fingers proved the words true. She moaned quietly, mindful of their proximity to camp, but lost in the gentle stroke of his fingertips.
Her ache grew deeper, changing to hunger, and his touch was the barest hint of pleasure. She arched, wordless begging for more, and he drew the breast deeper into his mouth. He parted her folds and stroked the nubbin he'd forced alive, and her breath strangled.
He pulled back from it and murmured against her breast, "No rushing, not tonight."
He moved to her other breast and slid one finger inside her. She gasped, and considered forcing him to move faster, but her guns were laid out of reach.
The finger moved in and out slowly, drawing her growing moisture. She felt inflamed, hungry for the climax he'd shown her the night before.
"Please Mac- Rafe," she breathed out.
