Chapter Eight

 

 

ELBOW ON THE DESK and her head propped in her hand, Alice again focussed at the latest catalogue from Paris. Usually, she was all afire to discover the new doings from Paris, the way those high-fashion ladies chose to clothe themselves, the descriptions of the marvels from the cabarets. Usually, she devoured the catalogue from cover to cover, and turned it over to begin again. Now, she’d stared at the same page for five minutes, her mind adrift, and sure as hell would continue to do so.

She blamed Llewellyn. Rupert. Her pretty Englishman.

He was the reason she couldn’t keep a thought straight in her head. How could she, when the remembrance of the way he looked all laid out on her bed crept in as she studied the catalogue? Or absolute focus that burned in his eyes as he worked his way over her, kissing and licking her skin.

Pushing back from her desk, she walked to the balcony doors and allowed the night air to cool her. Damn the man, he was ruining her for everything but him.

A smile tugged at her mouth. He’d been ruining her for over two weeks. Every night after the Diamond shut its doors, she found him waiting for her. Sometimes, he cornered her in the corridor, sometimes in the theatre, sometimes in her office, and then...well, then he would ‘ruin’ her.

All in all, she mightily enjoyed this new relationship with Llewellyn. More than just the ruining, she enjoyed the time they spent together, the way he would say something tremendous and amusing, and have her laughing so hard she’d be convinced her guts would break. The way, sometimes, he looked at her as if she were the prettiest thing in this world or any other. And the way she thought the same of him.

A brief knock, and then her door swung open. Startled, she whipped around from her contemplation of the night, though it took her less than a second to figure who it was. Pearl’s knock was always brief, and she never waited for an invitation.

Striding for her desk, she took whiskey and two glasses from her drawer as Pearl entered the office and, graceful as ever, dropped herself into the chair before the desk. “What are you doing in here by your lonesome?” Pearl asked, accepting the whiskey and downing the glass.

Sinking into her own seat, Alice took a mite of her whiskey. “Not much.”

“Hmm.” Pearl watched as she refilled the glass. “You know, I can count on one hand the times you’ve not graced the floor since I arrived here. Four of ’em occurred this week.”

Holding her own, she leant back in her chair. “How is that any indication of any damn thing?”

Pearl shrugged. “It’s an indication of something.” She levelled her gaze upon Alice. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

She took a gulp. “Any number of things, but nothing of any importance.”

Pearl’s brows drew together. “Don’t be flippant about this. You never stay off the floor for more than a night. What’s different?”

Her friend’s green eyes were dark with concern, and she rubbed her middle finger and thumb together, a tick she only employed when worried.

Shame at her levity filled her. She’d thought they were only having some fun, a bit of the banter she and Pearl enjoyed. However, if her friend were truly concerned, she wouldn’t tease. “Nothing to worry you. I’ll tell you real soon, I swear. It’s... I just want to keep it to myself, for a little while longer.”

For long moments, Pearl regarded her. Finally, she nodded. “All right. So, I think the next Spectacular should contain a ventriloquist act.”

Alice blinked. When Pearl wanted to change a topic, she made sure it came out of the precise middle of nowhere. “Ventriloquism?”

“We need new acts for the Spectacular, don’t we?” Pearl frowned. “Speaking of, weren’t you gonna head for San Francisco last week? You were waiting for the Spectacular to be over, you said.”

Well hell, look at that. The Parisian catalogue suddenly seemed real interesting. “I’ll go next month.”

“But don’t the costumes require a touch or two of new beading? And you were harping on about purchasing that new whiskey from Ireland you thought could sell like hotcakes.”

“Next month.” Staring at the catalogue, she hoped like hell her friend couldn’t see the fire in her cheeks. She hadn’t wanted to leave Ironwood, not when Llewellyn and she had just begun. She didn’t want to give up his visits every night, didn’t want to wake in the early morning light without him by her side. Besides which, she hadn’t yet found all the ways in which to make him crazy with lust.

And, maybe... Maybe next month, she’d ask if he’d come with her.

“Well, when you go, maybe you could seek out a ventriloquist act.” A considering look on her face, Pearl sipped her whiskey before saying, “I reckon it could be a fine addition to the Spectacular.”

“How do you figure ventriloquism as the way to go? Have you ever seen a man with his hand up a doll?”

Pearl shot her a dirty look. “Don’t be all contrary. I’ve seen them a time or two, back in Chicago, and I’ll have you know they captivated the audience every time. Even if they do scare the devil and his imps out of you.”

“So, even though these dolls—”

“Dummies.” Pearl shuddered.

Amusement threaded through her. “Even though the dummies scare the devil out of you, you think we should add one to the Spectacular?”

A mulish look darkened Pearl’s features. “They’re also captivating.”

“Right.” Hiding her grin, she tipped her glass at her friend. “I’ll get right on that.”

“They are captivating.”

“Sure they are.”

“They are.”

“I believe you.”

Pearl scowled. “You know, you can be such a—”

A knock sounded at the door, a hesitant sound followed in quick succession by two louder knocks, and a final knock that sounded a flourish more than anything else.

Alice’s heart sped, so fast it seemed it would leap from her chest. Pearl had distracted her, it was true. For more than a moment, she had strung two thoughts together, and neither of them contained Llewellyn. However, with that knock, the little sense she’d gathered left her.

Llewellyn was here.

As if it had never left, excitement and desire coursed through her. Every night for nine nights she’d experienced this pull, this passion for him. She couldn’t wait to see him, to talk with him, to tease him, and to take him.

He was here. He was here, and she couldn’t wait to taste him again.

“Are you going to let whoever that is in?”

She jumped. Damn it, she had forgotten Pearl was here also. How was it Llewellyn could wipe all thought from her mind?

“’Course I am.” Pushing back from her chair, she made her way to the door, hoping her excitement wasn’t as obvious as it felt. Turning the handle, she swung the door open to reveal Llewellyn on the other side, a glorious smile wreathing his face.

Heat flashed through her, and she wanted to launch herself at him. She wanted to feel him, feel his arms encase her, and his lips against hers as they kissed their hello.

But Pearl was here.

His brow creased slightly, and somehow he read a whole story from her expression in the time between one moment and the next.

Consternation knit her own brow. She wasn’t certain if she was glad he could figure her so well.

His gaze slid past her, lit upon Pearl. Returning to her, his glorious smile turned empty-headed. “Mrs Reynolds, what a delight to see you! I was only remarking earlier I have been in absolute want of your company, and thus I attended such a need as soon as was humanely possible!”

She stepped aside. “So I see. Please enter, and we’ll see if we can remedy your need.”

Heat flared in his eyes at her words, though she was the only one to see it. With another dazzling smile, he swept past her to enter the office. “I do believe it has been over a day since last I renewed my offer on this delightful saloon, and so I hurried over to make sure you knew my interest in your property has not waned. Indeed, if anything, it has intensified!”

Spying Pearl, he bounded over to her, grabbing her hand and raising it to his lips. “Miss Pearl, what a delight to see you as well! My word, it has been quite the evening for me. Two lovely ladies, and I’ve had to do so little! A glorious happenstance!”

Still at the door, Alice maintained her composure, but it was hard in light of his exaggerated idiocy. Damn, he was good at his pretence. A slight shadow darkened her amusement. As good as he was, she still had no notion as to why he needed it.

Pearl, meanwhile, seemed a bit taken aback by his exuberance. “A pleasure to see you again, Mr Llewellyn. Why, I reckon it’s been every night this week we’ve seen you...” Almost like the sun rising in the east, some kind of comprehension dawned over her face. Sliding her gaze to Alice, she grinned—all maniacal-like, in Alice’s opinion.

Hastily, she strode to Pearl. Whatever her friend thought she knew, she could keep it to her own damn self. “Wasn’t there something you had to do?”

Pearl’s grin intensified. “No. No, there ain’t.”

Goddamn it. Pearl knew. She had worked out in her head Alice and Llewellyn were keeping company, and now nothing would budge her. If there was one thing her friend delighted in, it was being all annoying and contrary when she should just leave well enough alone and go away.

She crossed her arms. “Yes, there is. Go do it.”

Still grinning, Pearl just sat there, ignoring any glare directed at her.

Finally, she slapped her hands on the arms of the chair and launched herself upright. “Oh, all right. Never again say I do nothing for you.” Turning to Llewellyn, she bobbed her head. “Sir. Always a pleasure.”

Llewellyn sketched an elaborate bow. “Miss Pearl.”

Looking between the two of them, Pearl grinned, shook her head, and shut the door behind her as she left.

So much for wanting to keep Llewellyn to herself. With a sigh, Alice sat on the edge of her desk. “We were about as subtle as a sledgehammer.”

Sitting in the chair Pearl had vacated, Llewellyn slung his ankle onto his knee. She drew in her breath at the way the move pulled the material of his trousers to outline the muscle of his thigh. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“I’m sure you don’t.” Still captivated by the muscle so wonderfully displayed for her, she ran her gaze over his form. Him sitting in that chair gave her all sorts of ideas.

He cleared his throat. “Mrs Reynolds, I should love to detail the benefits of my bid for your property, if you would be so kind as to oblige me?”

Surprised by his words, she raised her gaze. Colour heightened his cheeks, and his chest expanded as he took in a slightly ragged breath. Both spoke of his desire, along with the noticeable hardness between his thighs.

A slow smile pulled at her. How grand. He wanted to play. “Certainly, Mr Llewellyn. I’m sure you can be very persuasive when you set your mind to it.”

Though his eyes smouldered with his desire and the intelligence he no longer hid, he nodded as if he were truly the fool he pretended. “I shall enumerate these benefits for you, dear lady. First, there is the obvious—though vulgar—benefit of compensation.”

Languidly, she raised her hands to her hair. A few tugs and the heavy mass tumbled about her, resting lightly on her breast and falling down her back.

His gaze flickered, but he gamely continued. “While it is distasteful to talk of such, it is an undeniable factor.”

Making a noise of agreement, she toyed with the button at her throat.

“Second—”

She flicked the button open. He swallowed, but he would not be deterred. At least, not yet.

“S-second, there is the normalisation of your hours. Much of interest occurs in those hours after the setting of the sun, and it seems to me you limit yourself terribly by spending those hours in a saloon. Why, only think of the enjoyment you could gain by attending your bed at an earlier hour.”

“Especially if I’m not alone,” she added helpfully, undoing the next button. And the next.

“Yes.” Gaze hot upon her, he had lost the fool’s look though he remained ostensibly relaxed in the chair.

Well, she couldn’t have that now, could she? With a false gasp of dismay, she looked down. “Oh no, I’ve run out of buttons.”

Llewellyn swallowed, any pretension to disinterest well and truly gone. Avidly, his gaze ran over what she had revealed. Her bodice gaped open, exposing the corset she had chosen to wear with him in mind. Wine-red brocade cinched her waist and ended just below her breasts, decorated with cream thread spinning florets and vines. A sheer cream chemise shaped her flesh, though it did nothing to hide her nipples, already drawing tight and oh-so-sensitive. From beneath the barely-there fabric they were clearly visible, rubbing against the thin cloth with her every breath.

The corset and chemise had cost her a penny or two, but she’d always loved having pretty undergarments. And with Llewellyn staring at her, his lust plain on his face, they were worth every damn penny.

Fingers digging into the arm of the chair, he cleared his throat. “Third...”

She stood, unlacing her skirts, her petticoats.

“Uh, third...”

Her skirts dropped to the floor.

Falling silent, he ran his gaze over her.

She felt beautiful as his gaze caressed her form, as he devoured her barely covered breasts, her nipped-in waist, the lacy cream under-drawers. Slowly, she made her way to stand before him. His hand rose to her hip, gently tracing the curve. With a smile, she lowered herself into his lap. The hand at her hip moved to her thigh, and he tangled his fingers in her garters.

Snaking her arms around his neck, she raised her brow. “Third?”

He tugged at her garter, and she bit her lip at the sensations such a small action raised. Bringing his gaze to hers, he grinned. “Hullo, Alice.”

Fingers playing with the hair at the base of his neck, she returned his grin with one of her own. “Hello, Rupert.”

Hand tightening on her thigh, he cast his gaze over her once more. “You have the best underthings.”

She rubbed against his lap, delighting in his low groan. “Yes. I can feel your appreciation.”

“Well now.” With a lusty grin, he slid his hands around her waist. “Shall we see if we can do something about it?”

She gave her answer by taking his mouth with hers.

Passion exploded between them, as if it had been weeks, months, years since last they’d touched rather than just last night. Fingers sliding into his hair, she held him still as she devoured his mouth.

Eagerly, he participated in his destruction, his hands covering her breasts, thumbs circling her nipples, and teasing the taut buds. She gasped into his mouth, the sensation assaulting her almost painful in its intensity. Twisting in his lap, she straddled him. Bowed over him, her knees on either side of his hips, she kissed him and kissed him, her passion burning inside her, and the feel of him big and hard between her legs made her aware of her own emptiness.

Tearing his mouth from hers, he jerked the bodice down her arms. Bound, she could only arch her body, and he took advantage, licking her breast, drawing her nipple into the hot, wet cavern of his mouth. Throwing back her head, she clenched her hands. She desperately wanted to touch him, but she couldn’t with arms trapped as they were, his hands hot shackles on her wrists. Instead, she pushed herself into his mouth, and he nipped and licked and sucked.

“Rupert.” God, her voice sounded so hoarse. Wetting her lips, she tried again. “Rupert. Let me go.”

He ignored her, switching attention to her other breast.

“Rupert—Oh, God! Rupert, please. Please let me go. Please, please, please.”

Finally, he relented, and relief overwhelmed her. Stripping herself of her bodice, she ripped at his waistcoat, his shirt, needing to feel his skin. The stubborn cloth wouldn’t cooperate, and she growled her displeasure as he licked her neck, her jaw. Abandoning the fruitless task, she reached for the buttons of his trousers. The fabric parted easily, and she reached inside, surrounding his cock with her hand.

With a sharp intake of breath, he pulled away from her neck. Eyes closed, he shuddered as she gripped him. “Harder, Alice. Grip me hard. Like that. Oh, God, yes, like that.”

His words were flavoured with that thick accent, the one that spoke of his true origins, but she had no care for such things now, not when he was hot and hard in her hand.

Reaching between them, he stroked her slick folds, finding where her pleasure cantered. She bit his shoulder, and bit harder as he gently circled, his fingers gathering in the wetness there. Thumb still playing with her, his fingers traced her opening and slid inside. His shoulder muffled her moan. It felt so good, so damn good, and she wanted him to do it forever.

But the pleasure he gave her was nothing compared to the pleasure of him inside her.

Retrieving the packet she’d attached to her stocking, she opened it and smoothed the sheath over him. He groaned, and took his fingers from her to hold himself steady as she raised herself over him.

Then, slowly, she sank down.

They both moaned as the head of his cock pushed into her. Rising, she sank down again, and she closed her eyes as he slid deeper. Fully joined, she savoured the feel of him, thick and hard. His hands skimming her thighs to her hips, he urged her to rise, and so she did, biting her lip as he left her. Over and again, slow and steady, she rose and fell, her eyes opening to lock with his.

His hands slid to her breasts, covering her flesh, moulding and shaping. Still she rose and fell, loving the feel of him inside her, and he muttered a lyrical flow of syllables, something about heat and wet and the feel of her. His fingers found her nipples to tug at the elongated peaks. Pleasure built inside her, and she wanted to hurry, wanted to slam herself up on him, but to torture him she kept her slow, steady pace, rising and falling, rising and falling.

But he wouldn’t have it. His hand slid to where they were joined, and he found her. Lightning forked through her, and she screamed, unable to deny she wanted it hard and fast, too.

Wrapping her arms about him, she buried her face in his neck as she lifted and slammed herself down upon him, her nipples strafing against his clothes, every part of her burning as he moved inside her so strongly. The pleasure built and grew, until it was too much to bear. Gripping him tight, she cried out as her release crashed over her, breaking in wave after wave.

Breath harsh, forehead on his shoulder, she recovered. Slowly, she realised he was still strong and hard within her. Raising her head, she gasped at the dark, fierce expression on his face. His fingers bit into her hips, and he looked to be battling his reaction, forcing himself motionless.

Gently, she brought her hand to his cheek.

He exploded into motion. Gathering her in his arms, he shoved her onto her desk. Glass shattered as it fell to the floor, but she paid it no mind as he held her thighs wide, thrusting hard and deep. Gasping, she pulled him so he bent over her, his arm thudding beside her to brace himself. He grunted, his hips driving between hers, forceful and out of control. Amazingly, the pressure built again, and she hitched her legs around his ribs, pushing herself into his possession as again, the pleasure burst through her. At the height of it, she felt him stiffen and his body shook as he came.

Twitching with aftershocks, he lay heavy upon her, and she welcomed his weight. More than that, she relished it. Letting her legs loosen, she caressed the back of his calves with her feet, her arms wrapped about him.

Finally, he lifted his head. Bracing himself on his arms, he put his forehead against hers. “Third, there wouldn’t be a bloody saloon full of patrons just below us as we do this.”

They had just made love, he was still inside her, and yet he made her laugh so hard she hurt.

She was never letting him go.