Devils on Horseback: Gideon, Book 5 Page 8

  “Get in the wagon, Chloe.”

  Again, she obeyed without a peep. Later on she’d have to speak to him about bossing her around so much. She got herself settled on the seat and held the reins. Gideon watched the woman until she was at least fifty yards away, then glanced up at Chloe. His smile was not a happy one.

  “Now let’s get this thing turned around so we can find your family.”

  Chloe wanted to whoop and crow like a rooster, but she kept that locked away for now. He was focused on the right task—finding her family. He took hold of the lead horse and led him around in a circle until they were pointing back the way they came. Then he climbed on the side and hung on as the wagon began to move. He kept the shotgun pointed at their kidnapper, never moving from his post until they were long out of sight.

  Chapter Five

  Gideon was furious. Not only had he allowed the stranger to keep them tied up and captive for a good portion of the day, but Chloe had changed their circumstances instead of him. It was his job to be the one doing the rescuing and planning, not hers. Yet he had hesitated to do what needed to be done because he was afraid she would get hurt.

  Now the idea made him nearly snort. She was not only fearless, she was smart and quick as hell. They’d been tied together, yet she’d managed to injure the peddler woman, maintain her balance and give him the opportunity to disarm their enemy. It was damn embarrassing, frustrating and impressive.

  After they were far enough away to be safe for now, he climbed up into the wagon and sat beside Chloe. He set the shotgun in front of them on the floor and held out his hands. She just raised one brow.

  “What makes you think I’m gonna let you drive?”

  Gideon gritted his teeth. “Because I’m the man here.”

  “I’d say we’re equal partners, Blackwood. We were a team back there, and you’re gonna have to let me hold the reins now and again.”

  It made sense, of course. Logic over emotion and all that, but he didn’t give a shit about logic. He just wanted to feel as if he was in control, even if he wasn’t.

  “For right now, just hand it over.”

  She must have seen something in his expression, because she sighed dramatically and gave him the reins. Gideon wondered if she were humoring him but didn’t want to take that thought any further. Right now he would focus on the trail ahead of them and getting back to where they had been as soon as possible. Unfortunately, the team was old and plodded along slower than he thought possible. They would need some fresh blood to pull this wagon, or they would never catch the people they chased.

  They moved along at a snail’s pace, the sound of the merchandise in the wagon behind them clanking and banging together as the wheels hit dips in the trail. It was a strange kind of music—one he did not want to get used to hearing. He planned on getting rid of the wagon as soon as they found the Ruskins. For now he would endure it and its hideous stench.

  “Do you think we can find our way back to the packs we left behind?” Chloe’s voice was surprisingly calm.

  “Maybe, but with all the shit in this wagon, we don’t need any supplies.”

  She murmured something he didn’t quite catch. Five minutes later, she apparently could not control her tongue any longer. “I want that pack back. It’s likely all we have left of our things, and I don’t want to show up on my aunt’s doorstep with nothing but dirty drawers and bugs in my hair.”

  “This is the same trail we followed west. If we keep going, we’ll end up where we were this afternoon.” He could almost feel her grinning at him. “But there’s no guarantee we’ll find the exact spot, and we can’t afford to be poking around in the woods.”

  She nodded. “I understand that, and I would probably say the same thing. But in this case, I can find the spot.”

  “How is that possible? It was a bunch of trees with no distinguishing landmarks.” Gideon thought maybe she was trying to trick him into searching for the packs. There was no chance she could find a bush in the middle of the thick woods they had left them in.

  “Distinguishing landmarks? You sure do talk fancy.” She shook her head. “I cut an X in the tree bark.”

  “You did what?”

  “You heard me. I marked the tree with my knife when you was getting captured.” Chloe sounded so damn smug, his annoyance notched up further.

  He told himself not to react, to let her have her moment of triumph. Overall, Gideon was the better soldier, even if she’d been the one who freed them from their captivity. She was a young woman, cocky and sure of herself. There was no reason for him to get riled up.

  But damned if he didn’t.

  Before he even realized what he was doing, Gideon dropped the reins and yanked her close to him for a bruising kiss. It was a clashing of lips, teeth and tongue, different from their midnight sex. This was primal, elemental and overwhelming. Perhaps it was because they had faced danger together and escaped. He knew he was lying to himself, but thinking wasn’t an option at the moment.

  In fact, he could hardly breathe.

  The salty taste of her lips gave way to the sweetness of her mouth. The hot, wet recesses beckoned him until he was so deep he couldn’t distinguish where she ended and he began. His dick hardened in an instant, pressing against his trousers, eager to find release with Chloe. To his shock, her hand started pulling on the buttons to free him. He was about to stop her when she spoke.

  “Please, I need. Now.” It was a fractured thought but one he understood.

  He yanked at the offending buttons until the evening air hit his overheated skin. Her hand surrounded him, and he groaned into her mouth. Thank God she wore drawers with a slit. The ugly dress bunched around her hips. Chloe straddled him, never breaking the kiss, and soon he was poised at her entrance, which was already wet with arousal.

  It was wrong, it was foolhardy, it was loco. He couldn’t stop if someone put a gun to his head.

  Gideon had never been as aroused or as hard as he was at that moment. She sank onto his length, inch by inch, her tightness surrounding him, embracing him. He gripped the seat beside him until the wood almost splintered under his fingers. It was only through sheer force of will he did not come in the first five seconds. She was perfectly made for him, as if someone had engineered her tiny body to accept, welcome, enclose his.

  “Ohhhhh,” she breathed against his lips. “It’s even better than last night.”

  Damn straight it was. Gideon guided her up and down a few times, and then she took control again. Her pace increased quickly until all he could do was hang on to her hips and try not to find his release too soon. Blood raced around inside him until his heartbeat became the only thing he heard.

  The sounds of the forest around them ceased, and the air became still. The world held its breath as Gideon and Chloe moved together as one being in an ancient rhythm, hearts thumping, breath catching. Sliding against one another, their moans echoing softly into the dense forest.

  Her pussy began to twitch, and he knew her release was imminent. He surrendered control and let himself fly with her. Her soft, keening cry reached his ears as he shouted. The pleasure coursed through him with the force of a mule kick, stealing his breath and stopping his heart, until stars exploded behind his eyes. His fingers dug into her hips as her fingers did the same to his shoulders.

  It was the most powerful orgasm of his life.

  Every inch of his body trembled with the force of their joining. She rested her forehead against his, her breath mingling with his choppy gusts.

  “I didn’t know.” Her voice was huskier than normal.

  “Know what?” His sounded like rusty metal.

  She sat up and looked into his eyes. “What it felt like to have your man call your name like that.”

  Gideon’s throat closed up as he studied her guileless green eyes. It was true whether or not he wanted to accept it. He had
shouted her name when he came, something he’d never done in his life. Not once.

  That’s when he knew he was in trouble.

  Chloe hoped he couldn’t tell she was trembling. The movement of the wagon likely hid the fact she could not stop shaking. The first time she’d been with Gideon, it had been dark and mostly about feeling new things. This was at sunset, on a wagon seat, and she’d ridden him like he was a horse.

  What made her off-kilter, though, was when he had said her name. Granny hadn’t told her much about what men did or what happened to them during sex. Chloe figured out on her own that men made noises when they found their pleasure. He called her name this time. Her name. What did it mean? She wished Granny were there to ask.

  Instead she sat next to him and tried to look as though nothing was wrong. The truth was far from that though—everything was wrong. There was no use getting riled up when there wasn’t a thing she could do to change what had happened the last two days. Done was done.

  “Where did you mark them?”

  She started at the sound of his voice, slid sideways and got a few splinters in her behind. “Jesus Christmas!” She took a deep breath and tried to stop acting like a fool. “Mark what?”

  He pursed his lips and appeared to be controlling his temper. She knew personally those lips were much softer than they appeared.

  Stop thinking about his dang lips.

  “The trees, Chloe. You said you had marked them with your knife.”

  “On the bark.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I realize it’s on the bark. What I’m asking is did you mark them high, in the middle, on the roots?”

  Chloe wished she were anywhere but that very spot. Vibrations echoed between her legs, his seed was on her thighs, and he was treating her like she was an idiot. Instead of letting her temper and her pride overtake her again, she turned away from him. If she wasn’t looking at him, perhaps she could regain some semblance of self-control.

  “I made an X at eye level.” She wasn’t surprised to hear her voice had grown huskier. Emotions were not something she welcomed or relished, and they were surrounding her at the moment.

  “Low on the tree.”

  She opened her mouth to repeat eye level but realized the marks were low on the tree, comparatively speaking, that was. Her short stature was always a source of annoyance, especially around men who were as big as trees.

  “Yep, I reckon you’re right.” The words were pulled from her throat.

  “Start looking, then. It’s almost too dark to see, and I’m pretty sure we’re near where we started with the peddler.” He gave orders, again, and held the reins so nonchalantly she wanted to smack him. Wasn’t he as affected as she was by what they had just done? If not, then why?

  She had no one to ask and no answers to the million questions in her mind. She focused on what she could do—find the trees she’d scored. As the minutes passed, she grew worried they wouldn’t find the packs in the dark, much less Granny and the girls. She must have been fidgeting on the seat.

  “Is something biting you?”

  She glanced at him. “Why?”

  “You’re dancing over there like an army of ants is biting at you.” His scowl made his eyebrows touch like two caterpillars kissing.

  She ignored him. After all, she could fidget if she wanted to. He was not her real husband, and he had no say in what she did. Maybe annoying him would become a game until, well, until they lost control again. That couldn’t, shouldn’t, happen another time. It didn’t stop her traitorous body from warming to the idea. Was she turning into a wanton? Granny didn’t warn her about that. In fact, Granny didn’t warn her about a lot of things.

  Like how her skin tingled at his touch, or how she throbbed before, during and after joining with him, or how his lips had blazed a trail of fire across her. Now she was beginning to fidget, and it wasn’t because of ants.

  “More ants?”

  She wanted to smack him. “If you have to know, I’m just worried is all.”

  Liar.

  “Me too.” He tried again in vain to get the horses to move a bit faster. They did not respond to his call or the traces lightly smacking their rumps. “I can’t make these nags into stallions no matter how hard I try. We’ll just have to keep moving and hope we find something.”

  That something turned out to be the trees she had scored. The night air was cooling things off, but anxiety and stress made sweat trickle down her back as she squinted at the forest. At first she thought she was seeing things because she wanted so badly to find the marks. Then she grabbed his arm, surprised again by how it felt to touch such a muscular man. She shook off the feeling.

  “Stop the wagon. I think I see something.”

  Before he could even react, she jumped out and ran toward the trees. She nearly wept when she saw the X she had swiped with her knife hours earlier. Her finger traced the letter as she worked at swallowing the lump in her throat. They were back on track, back to where their detour started, and now they could pick up the trail of the Ruskin wagon.

  The sound of clanking drew her attention, and she saw Gideon had retrieved their packs already. He was staring into the back of the peddler’s wagon and shaking his head. Finally more in control of her runaway emotions, Chloe stepped over to where he stood.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “What’s right?” He gestured to the wagon. “There is so much junk in here I can’t even figure out what most of this stuff is.” He pushed aside a pile of what appeared to be burlap sacks to set down their homemade packs. “I wouldn’t put these any farther in or we’ll never see them again.”

  Gideon climbed in, and she squawked in protest. “What are you doing now?”

  “Looking for more weapons.”

  “Oh.” Made sense to her and she wondered why she hadn’t thought of it. “Can I help?”

  “I don’t think there’s room in here for me to change my mind, much less room for a sprite like you.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “That just means I can move around easier in there, and faster too. Now if you get out, I can get in and search before it’s completely dark.”

  Gideon wasn’t happy about her logic, but he must have agreed with it, because he climbed down out of the wagon. He obviously didn’t like being wrong or letting her be correct. The thought made her want to smile, but the time just wasn’t right for that. She dug around, encountering more smells, sights and surprises than she cared to. Her hands were sticky and dirty by the time she had found six knives, a rusty pistol and a shotgun. She handed each one to Gideon as she located them.

  “Any ammunition for these?”

  She felt a little foolish not looking for the shells and bullets, but she didn’t want him to know that. “I’m looking for them now.”

  Chloe had to hold her breath a few times as she dug through the accumulation of shit the old woman had packed in the wagon. There didn’t appear to be any rhyme or reason to her organization of things, so every nook and cranny had to be searched. The good news was Chloe did find ammunition, even some for guns they hadn’t found.

  As she handed the boxes to Gideon, she couldn’t help but give him a triumphant smile. “I found more than what we need.”

  He smiled in return, and Chloe’s world tilted a bit sideways. For all the times she’d seen an expression on his face, she’d never seen a true smile. It transformed him into the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on. The man’s looks were positively lethal.

  “What’s wrong?” His smile turned upside down, breaking the spell.

  “Nothing that some fresh air won’t cure. There’s some powerful stink in here.”

  He held out his hands to help her down, and she was going to tell him no, she could get down by herself. After all, hadn’t he seen her leap from the moving wagon earlier? However, she didn’t have time to tell him a thin
g. He grabbed her by the waist and plucked her from the wagon as if she weighed no more than a feather.

  “Jesus, you are a little bit of a thing, aren’t you?” His voice had dropped low, his tone making a shiver dance across her skin.

  “Big enough.” She couldn’t help but remember what had happened between them on the wagon seat. How it felt to have him deep inside her again. Her pussy throbbed once, and she stepped away from him, somewhat afraid of her reaction to his nearness.

  “Fast and strong too.” He flashed her a grin. “Now let’s find a place to stop for the night.”

  She walked around to the front of the wagon on unsteady feet. Gideon put her in all sorts of knots by smiling at her, hell, just by breathing. He was definitely dangerous for her equilibrium and her heart, not to mention her peace of mind. Yet he was by her side, searching for her family. He was a Southern gentleman, something she thought had drowned in the blood from the Civil War.

  Chloe was pensive and off-kilter as they made their way down the trail. The twilight gave way to darkness, and still they traveled in silence. It was fine with her, since she didn’t know what to say to him anyway. How could she tell him that she wanted to travel by his side always? That they appeared to be meant to be together? It sounded foolish to her, and no doubt it would send him to the nearest saloon. Who would want a rough-talking, short, freckled, not-so-pretty orphan for a wife? She could bring nothing to a marriage except all her stellar qualities, or lack of them.

  Her gloomy mood grew worse the farther they traveled. When he stopped the wagon, she peered into the night looking for whatever he’d spotted.

  “What’s going on?” Chloe was surprised to see how dark it had become while she’d been mooning over him in her mind.

  “We’re stopping. This is as good a place as any. I’m not risking the wagon or these old nags to get a few miles farther tonight. Let’s set up camp in that field there. I hear water too, and we can wash up. Maybe even find another canteen in this mess in the morning.”

  Sounded like a fair plan, and Chloe was yet again glad he was there. She needed to regain her wits, and to do that she needed to steer clear of Gideon Blackwood.