Bad Desire

This story was inspired by the song: I'm On Fire by Bruce Springsteen

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Pulling firmly on the reigns of his mount, Lucas lead his stallion off the dirt road he'd been travelling the half hour and headed up to long drive towards the farm house that loomed ahead. His mouth curved ever so slightly as Mae Coombs stomped down the porch steps, laundry basket fastened to her hip as she sauntered towards the clothesline her Ma had erected when Mae had been naught but two feet tall.

Kicking his heels ever so slightly into his horse's flanks, Lucas' grin grew as Mae in turn picked up her pace. "Hey little girl, is your Daddy home?" he called out to her.

Rolling her eyes, Mae ignored Lucas Maloley and his jest. 'Little girl' her petty coats, he wasn't more than three years older than her, give or take a day.

"Ah, come on Mae, don't be like that, not when I rode all the way here, I got business with your Pa. He home or not?" Lucas pestered, pulling his mount along side her as she walked.

Glancing up at his handsome face that had yet to lose its boyish charm, Mae sighed, a sucker for his dimples and sandy brown hair. "Pa went into town with the boys. Won't be back till tomorrow at the earliest."

"He went and left you all alone?" Lucas sputtered, more than a little put off by the idea of Mr Coombs leaving his daughter unattended.

Shrugging, Mae set down her laundry and tugged a linen shirt from the pile, pinning it to the line, her gaze on Lucas, his large frame towering above her, the wide brim of his cowboy hat blocking the sun from her eyes. "I told him to, Ezra needs a new set of clothes, I've mended them so many times he's crisscrossed in stitches. John has to help him carry our wears, since Adam's gone, and so who's left to tend to the house and the animals if not me?" she pointed out.

Tipping up his hat, Lucas frowned down at the beautiful young woman he'd grown up with from his saddle. "Me. He should have sent for me, Mae. It's not right, you being alone. What if..." he trailed off, not even wanting to voice the awful thought.

"The brigands?" she supplied for him.

Scowling, Lucas nodded, finally dismounting, the reigns in his hands the only thing keeping him from reaching for the young woman. "Ever since they put that damn train in, it ain't safe for women to be left all alone. Ya never know who might come wandering up the lane."

Rolling her eyes, Mae reached for another shirt, "like an uninvited neighbour? I've got a rifle above the hearth that would take good care of you or any other man that came wandering up my drive with nefarious purpose," she pointed out.

Grinning wickedly, Lucas nodded, "me? Nefarious? Come on Mae, I'll have you know I only have legitimate reasons for being here." He assured her.

"Oh? And what might those be Mr Maloley?" she inquired, hanging the last of her laundry before saddling the basket against her hip once more, stepping closer to him. Close enough to smell the slight sweat on his skin and see the mischief reflecting in his hazel eyes.

"Well, Ma sent me over here with a bushel of apples of course, and I had hoped John might lend me a hand plowing two Saturdays from now." He told her, watching as her brows rose in amusement. "I had hoped to speak to Mr Coombs as well, see if I could return the favour and help any since Adam's gone and gotten himself hitched."

"Is that all?" she asked, taking another small step towards him, much too close to maintain any kind of pretense of decorum between them.

"Yup, though, there may have been something else," he agreed, reaching out to take the basket from her.

"Such as?" she asked, strolling beside him back towards the house.

"There was something I wanted to ask Mr Coombs but I've gone done and forgotten," he teased, unsure if Mr Coombs had ever made his suit aware to her.

Reaching the front steps, Mae skipped up two of them before turning to stare Lucas in the eyes. "Mr Maloley?" she crooned, taking the basket back, her slender fingers brushing his strong ones gently.

"Yes, Mae?" he whispered; certain he'd never been this close to her lips before, quite enjoying being eye level with her for the first time.

"Get off my farm," she ordered him so sweetly he barely registered the words, too lost in the soft caramel brown of her eyes and the damp sheen on her pink lips.

Grinning from ear to ear, Lucas shook his head, "no can do, little lady. I think the only gentlemanly thing to do in this here situation is to watch after you till your Pa and brothers return."

Tugging his hat down his wide brow with a playful jerk, blocking his view of her, Mae rolled her eyes yet again before turning to head into the house. "If you're that intent on pestering me, I suppose you can stay. I'll go air John's room out for you," she offered.

Deeply pleased by his luck, Lucas removed his hat, watching her skirts swish as she disappeared inside the house. "I'm gonna make you Mrs Maloley if it's the last thing I do, Mae," he whispered, utterly captivated by the teasing woman.

Mae watched from John's window as Lucas led his stead to the barn, enjoying his movements. Despite living with only men the majority of her life, there was something about Lucas' body that drew her attentions unlike her brothers. John was just as tall as Lucas if not as brawny, but she'd never cared about his height the way she did Lucas', as if the fact he towered over her made him all the more charming.

Then there was his figure, her eldest brother Adam was heavily muscled from days in the field and the barn. Lucas was leaner, not as bulky, but just as strong. Yet Adam's strength was a mere convivence to her when faced with a heavy task. Whereas Lucas' musculature, that made her warm all over.

She sighed, remembering the day she'd chased after all three boys down to the creek. She'd lost her breath, frozen in her tracks as Lucas tossed his shirt to the side and dove headfirst into the water.

Pinching herself in annoyance, her cheeks pink, Mae turned away from the window and back to her task. The preacher would have her head if he knew what kind of thoughts she entertained about Lucas Maloley, charming black sheep that he was. The old man would probably keel over from a heart attack if he ever heard of the Maloley boy spending the evening with her unchaperoned.

It didn't matter though, her brothers and her Pa would be the only ones to ever find out about this, and considering Lucas was practically another of her brothers, given how much time they spent together, her brothers would probably pat him on the back and thank him for watching over her.

Throwing open the other shutters in John's room, Mae turned to the bed, fluffing the pillow and placing a fresh candle on the nightstand. "Mae?" Lucas' voice called from the bottom of the stairs.

"Up here, be down in a moment," she replied, a small smile on her lips as she heard his heavy footsteps climbing the stairs.

"No need for that, I'm just as fine sleeping in the barn on the hay, you don't need to trouble yourself," he chided as he filled the doorway, effectively caging her in the room.

"Don't be daft," she assured, pulling a spare blanket from the chest at the foot of the bed, "the winds are cooling off now that summer is at an end, it's too cold to be sleeping in the barn once the sun has gone to rest."

Keeping his face placid, Lucas shrugged, unsure how she'd react if he told her that just knowing she was near set his blood on fire. That the flame he carried within him for her was more than enough to warm him on cold evenings. "Are you chilly at night?" he asked conversationally, glancing back behind him at the bed in the room across from him, noticing only one blanket on her mattress.

"I was a little last night, didn't light a fire, I was abed before I realized how cold it was growing. Too cold to set a flame after I'd tucked myself in, couldn't bare to leave the covers," she explained, smoothing out the new blanket.

Stepping forward, Lucas pulled the blanket away from her, bunching it in his hands. "You take it then." He told her, holding it out towards her.

Smiling softly, Mae nodded demurely, clutching the blanket to her chest as she retreated to her own room and spread it slowly over her bed.

"Where does Mr Coombs keep the flint? I'll set the hearth so it's ready for you tonight," Lucas offered.

Mae blushed at the idea of Lucas preparing her room for an evening retire. There was something intimate about it. No one had helped her prepare her hearth since she'd been a small girl. It was what you did for a child, or when sharing a marital bed, but certainly not for the sister of a friend. "I'll do it," Mae assured him, shooing him out of her room.

~ ~ ~

"All the beasts are abed," Lucas announced as he entered the quiet farmhouse, the sun beginning to set as Mae placed a bowl of stew at her father's place setting for him.

"Come eat," she called, placing her own bowl adjacent to the right of his.

Pulling out her chair with one hand, Lucas helped her sit with the other before taking his own seat. Reaching for her hand, he tucked her fingers into his fist and held them softly, lowering his head as he murmured grace.

Mae knew she should close her eyes, instead her gaze was fixed on their joined hands and the heat radiating from his fingers. The sensation of just how rough and thick and large they were in comparison to hers, struck her as exciting.

Tugging her hand from his grip as he finished his prayer, she worried her lip. She'd never felt like this holding her Pa's hand, or Adam's or John's for that matter. Ezra's hands were still as small as the rest of him, unlike her older brothers, the youngest among the Coombs children had yet to outgrow her. Yet, despite all the male hands that had touched her person, she'd never felt excited, as though Lucas had set butterflies loose in her belly.

"Thank you, Mae," Lucas commented, a small content smile on his lips as he lifted his spoon, his hazel eyes warm with emotion.

"Don't mention it, been stewing all day," she muttered, embarrassed by his genuine appreciation over such a simple meal.

"Who knew Mae Coombs would grow up to be such a good homemaker?" he teased, knowing her lack of aptitude in women's work had long been a source of shame for her. After her mother's passing at such a young age, there'd been few to teach her and most of what she had learned had been gleamed from his mother and the other women at church gatherings. He knew looking after her brothers had been hard on her.

"Quit your teasing, even a child can make stew," she told him dismissively.

"It's damn good stew," he told her around a mouthful, "the man who gets to eat your meals the rest of his days, will count himself lucky," Lucas teased.

"Don't blasphemy," she reprimanded, "and you're incorrigible Mr Maloley. You know my Pa has no intention of letting me wed. Not till he's found and secured himself a new bride to run this house."

Scowling down at his bowl, Lucas nodded, well aware Mr Coombs had no intention of parting with his only daughter unless he received a replacement, something Mr James Carmicheal could give him.

Lucas had asked for her hand no fewer than six times in the last year, the last time he'd been told 'no' because Mr Coombs was entertaining James' suit instead. That would not stand, Lucas would eat his hat before Mae ever found herself at the alter with that old coot. Lucas had come to visit with the intention of seeing Mr Coombs to reason, refusing to take 'no' for an answer this time. He hadn't counted on the man being absent.

Glancing up at Mae as he ate, Lucas studied her with deep longing, wondering if she had any idea what she did to him. While he lay abed, she'd run though his dreams, setting him afire as though fever had taken him. He'd wake up in the middle of the night with the sheets soaking wet and what felt like one of those new freight trains running through the middle of his head.

The first time Mr Coombs had told him no, it'd felt like the man had taken a knife, edgy and dull and carved a six-inch valley through the middle of his chest where his heart had once sat. From that moment forward, his desire had taken on a life of its own, the flames of the torch he carried for Mae only erupting and expanding given the fact he couldn't have her.

Lucas groaned softly as he watched Mae lick her lips unconsciously, sweeping away a droplet of broth. What he'd give to touch his tongue to those soft pink petals, to taste the seam of her lips, to drink in her breath and steal her air. "When did you say your Pa was returning?" he murmured, a wicked plan taking root as his desire flared.

"Well after dawn at the earliest," Mae replied, ignorant of Lucas' thoughts, "though I doubt they'll even make the evening meal."

Lucas nodded, internally elated with his good fortune. If Mr Coombs wouldn't agree to negotiating the match, he'd force the issue, leave the older man no choice but to turn his daughter over to Lucas for life. He'd ruin her. Unchaperoned, in the privacy of her bedroom. Carmicheal wouldn't have her then. Mr Coombs would have no choice but to let it happen as Lucas dragged Mae to the alter.

His mind firmly set on his bad desire, Lucas nodded and smiled and made polite conversation as he ate, Mae none the wiser to his intentions and the shift they'd just undergone.

"I think Ezra is plenty old enough to care for himself, don't you Mr Maloley?" Mae complained, annoyed her father continued to insist she mother her younger brother.

"Lucas," he corrected, "and yes the boy is ten now, you've no need to keep after him."

"Mr Maloley, I hardly think that's proper," she murmured.

"You had no problem using my given name when we were in school," he pointed out, "and I've never stopped using yours." Not that he wanted to, 'Mae' would suit just fine until she took his family name. Mrs Mae Maloley. Now that had a ring to it.

"We were children, and you've never had very good manners," she pointed out, taking another spoonful of stew into her distracting mouth.

A hearty laugh escaped him as he met her unapproving eye, his smile wide. "I don't think you'd like me nearly as much if I were as polite as Adam," he teased. "Besides, Ms Coombs doesn't suit, it reminds me too much of Mr Whitiker's nasally voice calling on you, and that strap of his."

"Well, perhaps, if you had been more polite and spent less time pestering me and more time on your books, he wouldn't have hit you so much," Mae teased.

Shrugging, Lucas sighed wistfully, "and how was I supposed to concentrate on books when I had such a pretty little thing sitting across from me all morning?" he joked.

Glaring at him, Mae dropped her spoon into her bowl, "very funny Mr Maloley. I'm sure you were only thinking of my beauty when you dipped my braids in your ink well with John." She pointed out in monotone.

Boldly, Lucas reached across the space between them, encasing her hand in his once more. "No; you're right, at that point I hadn't realized what you'd become to me. You were just John's kid sister, though you've always been beautiful, even with ink your hair." He promised with a charming grin.

"And what am I to you, Mr Maloley?" she asked dryly, her brow arching in mock curiosity as his thumb caressed the soft skin covering the back of her hand.

Lucas lost his smile, his expression growing serious as he let his mask slip, allowing his feelings for her to make themselves known for the first time. Mae sucked in a breath, her eyes flaring as Lucas stared at her, his gaze alive with a passion she'd never seen before, a hunger that made her feel very much like a hare betwixt the jaws of a fox. "You're my wife Mae," he told her gruffly, squeezing her hand gently, "you just don't know it yet."

Taken aback, Mae tugged on her hand, her chair sliding loudly as she stood. Lucas' grip didn't falter as he rose with her, pulling her closer. "I've asked your Pa so many times Mae," he continued, his free hand taking hold of her elbow, sliding up her arm towards her shoulder. He squeezed her shoulder gently before continuing his trail up her body, his large palm cupping the side of her neck as his thumb caressed her jaw, tilting her face up towards his so he could watch the emotions fliting across her eyes.

Mae's heart thumped wildly in her breast as sentiment coursed over her, waves of elation, followed by fright ebbed and flowed as Lucas stepped ever closer, pressing his large body against hers. She'd never felt a man so close before. "I want you Mae, I've wanted to make you mine since the week I was sick with fever. I knew then I wanted to wake up to your pretty face every day for the rest of my life."

Mae shook her head in disbelief, that had been nigh on four years past, when she'd sat by his beside nursing him and John, Lucas' mother refusing to let him home lest he give it to his young siblings. "Lu-"

Descending on her, Lucas silenced the stuttered syllables of his name on her lips as he swept the seem of her mouth with his tongue. He kissed her deeply, pressing his tongue into her mouth to taste her as her lips loosened in surprise in response to his caress. Flattening her palm to his chest, he released her to take hold of her waist, pulling her tightly against him as his other hand cradled the back of her head, controlling the angle of his kiss as he drank his fill of her.

Fists curling into the material of his shirt, Mae lost herself to the sensation of his hands on her body, the warmth of his palms heating her skin as he swallowed the soft moans escaping her. Backing her up, Mae grunted softly as her back hit the kitchen wall, pinned by the breadth of his shoulders and the solid wood behind her, she felt helpless as he devoured her.

Breaking their kiss, Lucas pressed his forehead to hers, his breath panting over her lips, his eyes closed. "I'm on fire," he whispered, the words causing Mae to shiver in his arms at the heat radiating off his skin. "Say yes, Mae, say you'll be mine," he pleaded.

Pushing against his chest slightly, needing a moment to catch her breath away from the flames of his desire threatening to burn her. He didn't give an inch, instead, he pressed closer, his thigh finding it's way between her knees, pinning her skirts there. "Maloley," she warned, pressing on his chest as his lips began to caress her neck, "Lucas!" she cried as one of his hands dropped to her bottom and squeezed, "stop this!"

Frowning, Lucas took a small step back, granting her a few inches of personal space, his hands falling away from her body. "I'll do right by you Mae," he swore, trying to persuade her to his plight.

Fists clasped at her bosom as she attempted to slow her heartbeat, Mae shook her head in confusion, trying to square the desire she'd just experienced and the man she'd long thought of as a brother. Lucas might have made her feel all kinds of strange things she didn't feel for her blood brothers but the notion he felt the same for her? It was all too much to process.

"No?" Lucas breathed in disbelief, the notion she might reject him herself never having occurred to him.

Ripping her eyes off the floor, Mae stared up into his agonized gaze pleadingly. "You said Pa told you no," she whispered.

Fury replaced heartbreak as Lucas took hold of her hands once more, wrapping her fists in his as he pulled her towards him once more. "I'm not asking him, Mae," he growled, "I'm asking you!"

"It's not up to me!" she retorted, her own anger brewing as her embarrassment faded, how dare he take liberties with her when he already knew her father had forbid it?

"Of course, it is!" Refusing to accept her denial, Lucas took hold of her face and kissed her again, letting every desire he'd ever entertained for her seep into the frenzied movement of his lips on hers.