He lifts his head, beard damp, mouth gleaming, a fire lit somewhere deep behind his stare.
“Look at me, Alice.”
I try to turn away, but he climbs over me, catching my jaw in his hand, thumb pressing under my chin until I face him. “No hidin’. Eyes on me.”
My gaze drops unwillingly, and I see him. His fist works himself slow, deliberate, every stroke dragging the skin taut over the thick length of him. He’s flushed dark, the head swollen, gleaming.
The sound is the worst of it. A wet, steady slide, rough and slick at once, mingling with the lap of the creek against the bank. Each drag of his hand makes a lewd noise I can feel in my chest.
“God above,” he rasps. “I’d split you in two if I slid inside right now. Stretch you till you sobbed my name.” His hand quickens, knuckles brushing the damp cotton of my shift each time he grinds himself against me.
My thighs press together. He notices. There is never a detail he fails to notice. His hand hooks under my knee, jerking it open, baring me. The hem of my shift rides high, cool air rushing over skin.
“Kodiak, don’t?—”
“Shhh, I ain’t.” His eyes drag down my body, molten, devouring. “Pink as a spring rose.”
I should cry out, beg him to stop, but I can’t. The sight of him—hard and needy, the veins ridging his flesh, the muscles of his forearm flexing with every stroke—steals my breath.
“You’d take me deep, all of me, whether you thought you could or not. And I’d make sure you liked it.”
He groans low, pumping himself faster now. The wet rhythm grows louder, sloppier. Water ripples against the bank with his rocking, as though the earth itself is keeping time.
“Don’t you dare look away,” he growls, his hand clenching tight around himself. “You watch what you do to me.”
I clutch at the grass beside me, fingers knotting in the roots. His pace grows erratic, chest heaving with ragged breaths, jaw clenched in raw strain, a bead of sweat trailing down his temple.
“You’d take me,” he grits out, almost choking on the words.
With a harsh groan, his body jerks. He spills hot against me, a guttural curse breaking from his throat as he shudders above me.
At last, his head drops, lips grazing my cheek. “Next time, little lamb…”
Chapter 16
ALICE
By nightfall, we make a shelter under a blanket of stars. The night is so clear the heavens glitter with promise, the Milky Way spilling across the sky like a smoke signal from some distant fire. If only I understood its message.
Since the creek, Kodiak hasn’t said a word, but has not strayed from my side. He hovers in a way that feels like possession—helping me from the water, wrapping me in a blanket and wiping my skin clean of dirt and grass with the same care he might use to polish his gun. By the fire, he studies each bend and line of my hand as if measuring something he intends to keep.
We lie side by side on my bedroll, the grass cool beneath, our shoulders almost touching.
“Kodiak?”
“Yes, little lamb?”
“Where are we going? You’ve only said we’re going south.”
He turns from his back, his body shifting toward me, then drags a thumb down my cheek. “Somethin’ real important’s waitin’ for me in New Orleans.”
“New Orleans?” I ask, sitting up some. I’d only heard about it in dime novels and gossip from travelers. I press a hand to my chest.
He erupts, his body shaking with laughter. “Ain’t nothing to worry about. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
He’s an outlaw. What did I expect? He probably associates with the likes of whores and criminals. But even Mary Magdalene walked with sinners before finding the light.
“Do you think perhaps fate brought you to me to be healed? To put you on a faithful path so you can stop running?”
