Seduced by Molly O'Keefe

Author:Molly O'Keefe [O'Keefe, Molly]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781507776353
Google: 6YEqrgEACAAJ
Goodreads: 24990144
Publisher: Molly O'Keefe
Published: 2013-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

COLE DIDN'T FALL asleep that night. The night of the harmonica and the honey. And the women laughing.

Usually he could fall into a fitful sleep for a few hours before the nightmares woke him up, but tonight he couldn't even get that far.

Instead, when the cabin was quiet he headed out to the barn where he lit a lamp and measured and sawed logs for the addition to the barn.

Melody's horses softly nickered in welcome and reached out their noses for a pat. The horses were fine company for an insomniac.

He had not slept more than five hours a night in six years. And it was worse here.

The ghosts would not let him rest. Like moths attracted to a flame, they swarmed under the moonlight. And tonight he was doubly plagued.

Melody, her thumb in her mouth, her eyes on him. He'd been destroyed in that glance.

For days now he'd ignored his body's response to her, because she'd been so hurt. Because he owed her so much, because he'd thought it had been burned out of him. Softness, want. Desire. He had not thought of a woman like that in . . . years. He did not partake of the whores or the grateful widows, the desperate girls along his route to Colorado. If he was able, he would flip them some coins and try not to look in their eyes.

There had been a woman in St. Louis he’d spent dark, desperate nights with, but one morning he woke up and she was gone with his horse and all of his money.

But tonight. That honey . . . He imagined taking Melody’s hand, sucking that finger into his own mouth.

And then when he’d sucked off every last lingering taste on her fingers, he would lift that honey crock and pour it across her lips, down her neck. He’d cover her breasts with it. Trail it across her belly. He imagined her sucking his flesh the way she’d sucked her own, with her eyes closed, the purr of satisfaction in her throat.

Christ. Stop.

His hands shaking, his blood burning through his veins, he picked up Steven’s saw and went to work, hoping that with enough effort he might be able to roll the stone back in front of his cave, eliminating the light that made it so hard to see.

Her laughter made him feel shackled. It teased him with hope of an entirely different kind of freedom.

Hours later the lamp burned out and sunlight came through the cracks near the goat’s head.

Coffee. It was time for coffee.

Stepping out into the clearing, he saw Annie and Melody standing over a tree stump with an open leather satchel.

They were a pretty sight, pretty enough to make him pause.

Melody made him pause.

She wore no bonnet and her hair was swept up into a tight knot of gold at the back of her head. The sight of her neck, the knobs of her spine pressing against her tender white skin, made his blood pound.

His hands twitched as if they had the ability to remember the feel of her waist when he'd helped her out of the flowers.

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