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CHAPTER 12

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Luther eased Michelle down and knelt over her. Her eyes were closed and a slight smile crossed her lips. He propped himself on his elbows and nuzzled the side of Michelle’s throat just below her ear. Her wet skin was cool from the lake, yet he felt her pulse hammering beneath his lips.

Michelle lay still as he trailed his hands down the front of her body. He took his time stroking the outline of her breasts, then worked his way to her hips. His head swam with desire as he glimpsed the dark triangle of hair through her chemise. God, he wanted her. He ached to touch her, yet was hesitant about pushing things too far, too fast.

He kissed Michelle and moaned as she kissed him back. Slowly, he slid his hand to the top of her chemise and began unfastening the tiny white buttons. Halfway through, he paused and waited to see if Michelle would protest. When she didn’t, he kept going.

He separated the material, freeing her pale breasts. She was beautiful. His mouth watered at the thought of sucking her. He broke the kiss and looked at Michelle. Her eyes were still closed, and she was breathing hard.

“Can I touch you?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

Luther bent his head over Michelle’s breasts. This would be heaven. After weeks of waiting and being so patient, he was finally getting his reward. He flicked his tongue across Michelle’s right nipple. She gasped and arched her back, offering herself to him. He drew her breast into his mouth and sucked it lightly. Michelle whimpered and writhed beneath him.

Encouraged by the sound of her throaty moans, he swirled his tongue around her nipple. He stayed with her, teasing her virgin flesh until his cock threatened to explode. It had been too long since he had made love, and his body needed release.

Ever so slowly, he slid his hands up her chemise, caressing her thighs as he sucked her breasts. Michelle tensed for a second as he lightly grazed her privates with his thumb. She kissed him deeper, and he eased his hand between her legs, discovering the warm softness he craved.

He touched her gently, taking his time exploring her soft folds while teasing her mouth with his tongue. She groaned and parted her legs wider. Obviously she was enjoying this, but how far would they go?

Michelle made a tiny mewling sound and arched her hips higher as he rubbed her. Before he knew it, she was aroused and more than ready. He eased himself between her legs, and was just about to unfasten his breechcloth when she froze.

“No, Luther, don’t.”

He kissed her. “Relax. Don’t be nervous. I’ll be gentle and go slow.”

“No! Get off me.” Michelle pushed against his chest and squirmed beneath him. “Please stop,” she begged.

He slid away and lay on the blanket next to her, his breechcloth jutting out in front of him. What had happened to break the spell? They had been so close. “What’s wrong?”

Michelle shielded herself from him as she buttoned her chemise. “I can’t do this.”

“I don’t understand.” He stroked her arm. “Why’d you make me stop? You liked it, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but... I’m sorry. I want to, but I can’t.”

He ran a hand through his wet hair and scowled. “Can’t? Honey, you sure as heck can, trust me. Is it because I’m half-Ojibwa and the thought of giving yourself to a red-skinned savage disgusts you?”

“Of course not. That doesn’t matter. I want to, but I’m—”

“But what? I’m tryin’ everything I know, Michelle. If it’s not because of what I am, and you like me... Hell, I sure think you like me after how you were moaning and groaning, then what is it?”

She turned away from him and wrapped her arms around her chest. “It’s not you. I... can’t. Sometimes I want to be with you so bad, but then... I get scared.”

“Scared? Why?”

She didn’t answer for a minute. “My mother and my aunts told me stories about how it’s wicked and sinful to want to let a man touch you,” she blurted out. “They said it hurts and isn’t worth doing if you can avoid it.”

He rolled his eyes. It figured. Michelle’s mother had told her those stories to scare her and keep her away from men. No wonder the girl was conflicted.

“I’d never hurt you, Michelle.” He touched her shoulder. “I want to make you feel good, like you did a few minutes ago. Just like with kissing, if I do something you like, I want to know you enjoy it—then I’ll do more. And if you want something, ask me and I’ll do it. You don’t have to be afraid or shy. Men like it when women show passion and interest in lovemaking. Talking, kissing, touching... It’s all good, I promise. Don’t hold back.”

She looked at him over her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’ll do better next time.”

Next time? How long would he have to wait? He glanced at his breechcloth, his erection more than obvious. He wanted to ask her if they could try again, maybe take things slower, but he reconsidered. He didn’t want to push her too far.

“I’m sorry I made you stop. My mother said if a man gets... aroused and then can’t finish... it hurts, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, she got one thing right.” He paused. “Do you know how hard it’s been for me to lie next to you in bed and not kiss you or touch you? I swear I won’t hurt you. I’ll be gentle, but I want us to be together.”

“I know.” She nodded and glanced at him. “But I’ve never been with anyone before and the thought of it... frightens me.”

He let out a long breath. Maybe she had a right to be nervous. After all, it would be her first time, and for women it was supposed to be painful. Women. He’d never understand them. All he wanted was for Michelle to relax, enjoy herself, and let him make her feel good.

He stood. “I’m gonna swim a bit and try to”—he cleared his throat—“settle myself. You stay here and get some sun on that too-white skin of yours,” he teased. “When I’m done swimming, we’ll play cards.”

She looked up at him and bit her bottom lip. “I’m sorry I disappointed you, Luther. I know it’s not fair. You’ve been very patient with me.”

He bent and kissed her cheek. How could he hold this against her after she had accepted the truth about him? “Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ll wait for you as long as I have to.”

* * *

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MICHELLE SAT ON THE blanket and watched Luther wade into the lake. She had messed up again. Just when things were going good between them, she had denied him his marital right—and why? Because of Roger.

She had been enjoying herself, delighting in the tingles racing through her body... the feel of Luther touching her down there... and then an image of Roger with that girl popped into her head. At that moment, everything froze and she panicked. Instead of feeling good, she felt sick. Why couldn’t she forget what she saw that night?

She cradled her head in her heads. And to make matters worse, Luther thought she was a fool. She couldn’t tell him the real reason she made him stop, so she had invented that ridiculous story about her mother warning her about men. Her mother had never told her much about men, only that they had lusty needs and expected them to be met—without protest—every night.

She watched Luther’s head and shoulders bobbing in the lake. Half-Indian or not, she loved him and wanted to make love to him. It felt good when he touched her and she wanted more. An idea came to her and she smiled. Tomorrow they would come back to the lake and do this all over again. And this time, they’d finish what they started.

* * *

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MICHELLE STRAIGHTENED the blanket on the bed and carried her dirty clothes into the spare room. This afternoon when they got back from the lake, Luther went to check his traps and said he’d only be gone an hour or two. But that was four hours ago. The sky was turning a purple-blue color and crickets were chirping outside. Where was Luther?

After Luther left, she had taken a nap and woken up terrified. In her dream, Luther had been killed. This dream was different from the nightmares she had about Roger. This had been a warning. She knew these bad feelings were well-founded. She’d had a similar warning in a dream the night before Roger’s party, but had been foolish and ignored it.

She wrung her hands in front of her and gazed out the window. Why was this happening now? It had been months since she’d had one of these dreams. What if it came true and Luther was hurt or dying somewhere out in the woods all alone? She clutched her bone necklace. “Please, God, let him come home safe and I’ll—”

The sound of the door opening interrupted her prayer. Luther stormed inside, cursing. She raced to his side. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“Dammit!” Luther threw his satchel and burlap sack on the floor. “I broke my friggin’ gun. I tripped over a root, fell, and cracked the chamber.”

“Are you hurt?” She fussed over him and wiped pine needles off his shoulder.

“No. But I’m lucky I didn’t blow my damn head off.” Luther flopped into a chair and ran his hands over his face.

She flinched, recalling her dream. “Can you fix it?” She knelt at Luther’s side and touched his arm. He was safe, that was all that mattered.

“I don’t know. I might have to buy a new one. This is just what I need, another expense, something else I can’t afford,” he grumbled. “I’ll go to town tomorrow and see if Karl can fix it.”

“Town? You can’t go into town.” The last place she wanted Luther to go was town. He had barely escaped jail last time. “Can’t it wait?”

“No. I gotta have a good gun. The other one I got is a piece of shit that jams and misfires half the time. I’ll have Karl at the livery look at it. He’ll tell me what needs to be done.”

She knew from Luther’s tone of voice that his mind was made up, but she had to try to persuade him to stay home. “Wait, Luther, please.”

“No. I gotta get it fixed. I can’t wait on this.”

“Yes, but...”

“But what?” He looked at her. “You’re nervous. What’s gotten into you?”

She rested her hand on Luther’s bare knee. “I’m afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

She invented a plausible lie. “After what happened in town, Jed and Pete will be looking for revenge. They’ll make trouble.”

“I can’t help that.” Luther rose and walked to the fireplace. He stirred the pot of rice cooking over the fire. “This ready? I’m hungry.”

Why was Luther so damn stubborn? “It’s not safe for you to go,” she blurted out.

He turned. “What? Why you sayin’ that?”

She stared at her hands and didn’t answer. How could she explain the dream and the horrible feeling gnawing at her stomach?

“There’s no need to worry about me. I’ll go to town, drop the gun off, and be back before dark.”

“No, you won’t. Something’s going to happen to you.” She rushed to Luther’s side. “Don’t go. I’ll do anything you want, just don’t go.” She wrapped her arms around his waist. She couldn’t let him leave. Her instincts told her Luther would be killed if he went to town alone.

He half-pulled from her arms. “Why are you actin’ this way?”

“I’ve got a bad feeling.”

He was quiet for a minute, then cleared his throat. “You ever have a feeling like this before?”

“Yes.”

“Did you listen to it?”

“No,” she whispered.

“Did something bad happen?”

Michelle gazed into Luther’s questioning eyes and nodded. “If you won’t stay, then let me go with you,” she pleaded and clasped his hand. “I promise I’ll be good. I won’t make any trouble and I’ll do whatever you say. If I’m wrong, you can tell me what a foolish woman I am all the way home.”

He scowled, then sighed. “All right. If this is so important, you can come with me. We’ll leave before first light and be home before supper.” He kissed her. “Trust me. You’ll see, everything will be just fine.”