chapter Eighteen
Her finger continued its torturous descent down his abdomen sending flames of desire licking down his belly to his groin. His hand stole up the warm velvet of her thigh.
She used her toes to shift her body upward until her lips were beside his head and her tongue caressed his ear. Jack groaned in delight.
He breathed in the spicy scent of her as she shifted to his side, giving herself access to all of him. Her fingers played along his skin, stroking his belly, teasing the fine hairs and following them south. He gritted his teeth at the sweet torture she wrought. Her hand moved to the base of his erection and his breath caught. He longed for her to wrap her fingers tight about his shaft.
But she did not grip him. Instead she used her thumb to run the length of him, making his whole body twitch and jerk with the small spasms of delight.
“Do you like that?” she asked.
“Heaven,” he breathed.
“And this?” Her fingers danced over his swollen flesh without mercy, arousing him even more.
His need grew large as the appetite of a grizzly waking from hibernation. He was insatiable, needing to feast only on her.
If he didn’t stop her, he’d come right here in her hand. He grasped her wrist and lifted her fingers, taking each one into his mouth in turn and sucking the throaty morsels. He was rewarded with a series of tiny moans. In her delight, she arched toward him. It was too much to resist and he moved from her fingers to her throat, rolling her to her back so he could suckle the nipples of her lovely full breasts. He lapped and lathed one as he gently kneaded the other. She gasped and rubbed herself against him, offering what he most desired by pressing her nipple to his lips. He took the tiny bud into his mouth, using his teeth to tease the tender flesh. Lily bucked her hips.
He clasped her taut bottom and tugged her forward, lifting one leg to his waist. Then he slid his hand to her cleft, finding her slippery and hot with need.
He rubbed his thumb over her swollen nub of flesh and she shivered and gasped, tiny whimpers of delight encouraging him. His thumb continued to stroke and rub, exploring her body. She rolled to her back as he came to his side, grasping her leg and tugging her beneath him. Her hips moved in a rocking invitation against his hand.
Blood engorged him. He forced one leg between hers, bringing his knee up to the juncture of her legs. She moaned and lifted herself to rub against him.
Oh, sweet mother of mercy, he could wait no longer.
He moved into place above her and she spread her legs wide as he entered, lifting her hips to meet his. He stilled then, savoring the sweetness of this joining, wanting it to last all night. But Lily bucked, bringing him deeper into her body as her fingers raked his back, urging him on. The twinge of pain did not stop him but instead added to his pleasure.
He dropped one hand on each side of her head, holding his weight off her as he prepared to ride her as fast and as hard as she wanted.
With each stroke he sank farther into her sweet flesh. Lily threw her head back and her hands fell away, gripping each of his wrists for support as she writhed against him. Familiar cries told him she was close as she lifted and opened to savor each thrust. He gritted his teeth, trying to last, praying she would reach her pleasure before he found his. The race would be a close one. He’d never known a woman so full of life and so eager to take her pleasure. It thrilled him and excited him far too much. He felt the battle lost as the sweeping surge of pleasure started deep within him. He plunged, arching as he pressed fully into her, his body quivering inside hers.
She cried out as he came in a hot rush of pleasure. And then he felt it, the rippling, rolling contractions of Lily’s orgasm, squeezing him, pulsing about him, prolonging his own pleasure as he enjoyed hers.
So sweet.
If he lived a hundred years, he knew that nothing would ever be as good as this. What they shared was special. He knew it.
No New York socialite would ever hold a candle to Lily’s passion, her beauty, her heart. It seemed suddenly very obvious that it was he who did not deserve her and not the other way around.
Reluctantly he shifted his weight from her, so as to allow her to breathe. She made a growling sound of disapproval in her throat and clung to him as he rolled to his back. He stroked her hair and wondered what he had ever done in his life to deserve spending even one night with her.
Lily startled and blinked. She lay half on Jack’s chest wrapped around him like a monkey. How could she have fallen asleep like this? And then she remembered and blushed. She knew better than to do such a thing again, and yet, when she’d realized he was well enough to lie with her, she could not resist him. She had considered for only a moment and dismissed all consequences and the realities of their situations.
No, those were best faced in the cold morning light. She blinked at the soft gray light that filtered through the cracks around the door. Her nose and cheeks tingled from the cold and she could see her breath. It seemed that the bedding and their bodies had kept them warm enough as the fire died.
She slipped from the bed, stifling a curse as the icy air attacked her from all sides. Lily hopped into her clothing with as much speed as possible and roused the fire. She glanced back at the temptation of the bed and Jack, but she knew what would happen if she ventured there again.
She gave a heavy sigh and headed out to find Nala. When she returned she found Jack dressed. He took her up in his arms and hugged her.
“Last night was wonderful,” he whispered and then dropped a kiss upon her temple.
“Yes.”
“Are you still going?” His breath heated her cheek and fanned down her neck.
She didn’t want to. But if she stayed here she’d be no better than his… Lily nodded her head.
He pulled back and stared down at her with an expression she couldn’t read. Disapproval? Regret? She wasn’t sure.
“Shall I make breakfast?”
Jack stepped away, releasing her and taking up the coffeepot. “I can get something in town.”
She nodded, feeling bereft that she had to leave this tiny little cabin and that he no longer needed her. Even if she stayed, it would change nothing; sooner or later he would leave, while she had decided to stay in the Yukon. There was no better place for the likes of her. Here she had a chance to be judged on her merit instead of her accent.
Jack set his cabin to rights and collected some of his belongings, including a nice cache of gold to take to the bank. A few more like that and he’d be on his way down river, she thought glumly.
Lily tied her cloak beneath her chin and raised the hood. “I’ll wait by the water.”
He nodded. As she walked away she could hear him muttering. Jack appeared a few minutes later, joining her and her hound in the canoe, and pushed off, pointing them downstream toward the sawboard metropolis of Dawson City.
Once in town she walked him to the bank and waited while he made his deposit. The bags of dust were guarded by Mounties who would escort the gold to the steamers that carried it to San Francisco. Jack’s gold was in very good hands.
He let her pick the place for lunch and ordered eggs for them both as if they were not selling for eighteen dollars a dozen.
When she protested, he waved off her concerns.
“Have you ever thought of visiting New York, Lily?” he asked.
The rush of hope hit her with unexpected force, constricting her throat. But his guarded expression and furrowed brow made her pause, as she tried to understand what, exactly, he was proposing.
She tried not to let herself hope that things had changed between them, for she knew that no matter how much money Jack made, it would not be enough to gain her entry into society. So why did she hold her breath?
“There’s nothing for me there,” she said.
“I’d be there.”
She cocked her head, confused by this sudden turnabout.
When Jack flushed and dropped his gaze, Lily’s stomach flipped. What was he asking her that made it impossible to meet her eyes? She stared at him in confusion, for she would have imagined that New York would be the very last place on earth that he would wish to be seen with her…unless.
She set her shoulders as if readying herself to take a blow. “Say it plain, Jack.”
“Always taking the direct route, up the trail, down those rapids and now here. All right, then. I’ll say it plain.” Jack rubbed his cheeks with both hands as he did when preparing to launch into something new. “Would you come with me, Lily?”
She bit her lower lip to keep from interrupting him by shouting yes, held back by the dark suspicion that reared its ugly little head.
“If I sell my machines and I do well, I’m sure I could afford to buy you a town house. Somewhere fashionable. Twelfth Street even, only two blocks from Union Square.”
“Buy me a…” The confusion cleared as her suspicion solidified like mortar, understanding now exactly what he was offering. He’d have to buy her a house, because she couldn’t live in his. Not when he married another woman.
She stood, clutching her napkin in her fist as flames lapped at her face. “Jack, are you proposing to make me your mistress?”
He flushed as he glanced about at the other diners who had ceased eating in favor of taking in the free entertainment they provided.
He stood opposite her, reaching out to clasp her elbow. “Lily, please.”
She twisted away, avoiding his grasp.
The waitress, who was scrawny as a stray cat, arrived carrying their plates, oblivious to the excitement.
“Eggs over easy?” she asked.
Lily never took her eyes off Jack as she spoke. “Give mine to the dog.”
Lily’s departure marked the beginning of a dreadful week for Jack. She would not see him, except from the stage and her friend Bill kept him from venturing any closer. She was clearly livid with him, and the more he thought about it, the more he came to the conclusion that she was right. He’d been out of line to ask her, especially when she’d only just finished telling him that she loved it here. What business did he have dragging her to New York and shutting her up in what amounted to an elegant cage? Lily needed to be free, to live a life of excitement, as her mother had wanted, not to exist in a half life as his mistress.
To make matters worse, word had spread about his cave-in and, as a result, he had no success getting potential investors to even consider laying down their hard-won capital on his invention.
He feared his only option was to mine his claim, take what he could manage to extract and then make his way home, tail between his legs. The thought of leaving Lily troubled him more than the recognition that he had failed. How was that possible?
He was sitting alone, nursing a beer at a dirty table in the Blue Wolf, a small saloon which sat on the corner of Harper and Third, when someone took the opposite seat.
He glanced up to find Lily staring at him with those intense blue eyes.
“No luck with the investors, I see.”
His shoulders sank under the weight of his failure. Word had reached her of his failings. It reminded him of how he’d felt back there, after his father had died and before he could find the money to leave.
“No.”
“How much does it cost to make one of those things?”
“Two hundred and sixteen dollars in materials each.”
“And how many were you wanting to make?”
“Six to ten to start.”
Lily stood, reached into her purse and withdrew a sack. The weight of it when it contacted the table and the way it remained upright and immobile, told him exactly what lay within.
“There’s two thousand, Jack. See if you can talk the supplier down sixteen dollars a piece for buying in volume.”
He stared up at her, astonishment rendering him dumb. There was no doubting from her expression she was still furious with him, yet here she was, offering him what must amount to all she had in the world.
“Why?”
“Because I promised I’d help you all I could. Now take it and do what you came to do, so you can go back there and reclaim what you’ve lost.”
Gold Rush Groom
Jenna Kernan's books
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