AllFreeNovel
Share Us
All Becky heard was the word married. Was he finally going to ante-up? She wasn't going to let this opening gambit slip by. "Yes. Oh, yes, Sheriff. That would be lovely. That would solve all my problems and I could--"
"Hold up." His deep voice cut her words off. "I didn't ask you to marry me. You're too young to get married." Holy hell! Where had she gotten that from? Did she think about him that way? He let the tantalizing image of marriage slide through him. His bed, her body. In his mind, he saw her naked, spread out for him. Her pale, slender limbs opening for him. Again and again, night after night. The thought brought immediate heat to his groin, and his body tightened in anticipation. It had come so close earlier that day. He had come so close to kissing her. He wanted to kiss her. Hell, he wanted more than kisses from her.
She flushed. "I'm sorry. I thought that's what you meant." Her eyes skittered away from his, and then back again. "But I'm not too young to get married. I'm seventeen."
"I know how the hell old you are." He scowled at her, until her earlier words finally registered. "What problems are you talking about?" The width of the room stood between them. Although he lounged against the table, he looked like a predator, ready to pounce.
Her hands were gripped in front of her. Her knuckles turned white. Her agitation was apparent. "No. Nothing. N--nothing at all."
He pushed away from the table with one booted foot. "Bull." He moved toward her. She backed up until she hit the wall.
He stalked over and crowded against her. Her breathing fractured and her heart slammed in her chest. "Tell me now, Becky. You best not try to hide anything from me."
Becky's brain began to swirl from his nearness, and she tried to get her vocal chords to work. "I-I've b-been trying to save enough money to go home. H-home to Boston."
His scowl became ferocious. "Why? You don't have any family left there." His words weren't meant to hurt. They were just stating a fact.
"No, you're right. I don't. But my aunt needs the income that my room would bring. And there are jobs in Boston, and I can feel s-safe again." She wasn't paying attention to what she was saying, all of her senses were engrossed in him. Safe probably wasn't the right word. More like sick to her stomach at the thought of what the marriage bed would be like if she had to marry Kyle.
"Why the hell don't you feel safe? Is it because of me?" He reached out and stroked her cheek. Fire rushed through her body.
"N-not you. K-Kyle Bolton. He keeps asking me--" She gasped and the words got clogged in her throat as he grabbed her by the shoulders with a sudden move, his hands pulling her toward him. His fingers bit into her as his nostrils flared.
"Did he touch you?" She hung in his grasp as fierce excitement clawed through her. He smelled so good. He always smelled musky, an outside smell that went straight to her head whenever she got a little close to him. She had wanted him to touch her for so long. What would it feel like to kiss him? She had been thinking about it, at night in her bed for so long.
His fingers bit into her and he gave her a slight shake. "Answer me. Did he touch you?"
Chapter Two
She knew he was asking her something, but Becky kept thinking about the details she had learned from Miranda about marital relationships. Miranda called it 'trying to make a baby,' but Becky knew that the same procedure happened when the men went to visit the girls at the saloon.
Waco was a growing town, and prostitution was now legally recognized. It was licensed and regulated by the city.
She knew that the sheriff went to the saloon twice a week, like clockwork. Miranda had told her where he was on those nights, when his supper would grow cold. Becky always went home, with her emotions in a mess and feeling more than a little put out.
And now he held her and demanded an answer.
His grasp became even more possessive at her hesitation. "Becky." He growled her name in impatience as he waited for her response, tension coiling through him.
"Y-yes, he's touched me." Her answer provoked him. Rage like he had never known engulfed him. A dark red mist rose up over him.
"How?" he bit the word out. "How has he touched you? Where? Where did he touch you?"
Becky was riveted by the incensed madman in front of her. He held her in a grip that was uncompromising, and his eyes turned feral.
"He touched me on the boardwalk, in front of my aunt's boardinghouse."
"Where on your body did he touch you? Did he hurt you?" Jake was maddened by the thought of that kid coming anywhere near her, let alone putting his hands on her. Or hurting her. Touching what was his.
"Sh--Sheriff, pl-please calm down. He didn't hurt me at all. He just keeps coming around, when my aunt isn't home, and he pesters me. He thinks he likes me and he tried to--he's tried to kiss me. I don't l-like it." She reached out and put her hand on his chest, next to his badge. She patted him, trying to calm him down. "It's nothing bad. It's nothing to worry about or to get upset about."
He looked down at her hand on his body. Her movements stilled.
Heat flooded through him and he took deep breaths as he tried to regain a modicum of control. His hands gentled and enfolded her, rocking her against him. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll take care of him. Goddammit! I should have realized this morning that he's been bothering you. If he wants to continue to live in this town, he won't do it anymore. He damn sure won't try to kiss you again. Nobody should be trying to kiss you, ever." His voice was adamant.
She pushed against him as she realized the sheriff didn't want to marry her, but evidently, he didn't want anyone else to have her, either. Hurt and despair made steel run up her spine and her voice held a sarcastic tone. "Thank you, Sheriff. It's true that I don't want to marry Kyle, but that's not to say that I don't want anyone to ever kiss me again."
"What do you mean you don't want to marry him?"
