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Chapter 7

Pleasure unlike anything she’d ever felt before pulled her from a dreamless sleep and Tara opened her eyes to see the Marshal’s head buried between her legs, his tongue and lips doing things to her that she’d not thought possible.  A blush stole across her body even as she gave herself over to the sensation.  Modesty and embarrassment giving way in the face of the near bliss of his sinful touch.  Her fingers found purchase in his hair, holding him in place. 

“Lindsey.”   

His name was a husky moan torn from her lips, drawn out slowly as he slid two fingers between her folds and thrust them deep inside her pussy.  Her heels dug into the mattress, and she pushed her hips up against his face, trying to drive them even deeper.  His tongue flicked her clitoris in tandem to his hand’s vigorous thrusts; blunt teeth alternately nibbled on the swollen nubbin, causing Tara to writhe beneath the onslaught. 

After last night, her body now knew what to expect… and god, did she crave it.  That final release that sent her hurtling out of her own body and into a plane of unknown origin, drifting weightlessly along in post-coital euphoria.  A place where nobody could touch her, save the man that sent her there. 

He angled his hand, rubbing it across some hidden spot, sending a thousand tremors racing along her limbs.  She gasped; her eyes flew open, unconsciously drawn to where he was tonguing her expertly. 

His eyes were closed, long lashes lying softly against his cheek.  Beautiful, she couldn’t help but think.  His face was a study in concentration, so in tune to pleasuring her he’d not noticed her riveted gaze.  There was something very erotic about watching a man getting you off – and actually enjoying doing so.   

Another brush against that sensitive spot and her eyes fluttered shut once more; her fingers slipped free from his head to clutch frantically at the sheets.  His movements were more frenzied now, Tara could feel herself stretch to accommodate another of his fingers.  The attention to her clit nearly drove her wild, his tongue…  

Goddess! 

More. 

Had she said that aloud? 

Didn’t matter. 

All that mattered was him.  She needed him. 

She arching into his mouth again, trying to tell him without words what she wanted. 

Him.  Filling her until she didn’t know where she ended and he began. 

“Lindsey.”

A gentle plea. 

Her eyes opened.  Locked with blue burning with need.  Silently conveying… unable to speak the words. 

Maybe with time they’d come.   

For now, he seemed to understand. 

His hand slid free from her oversensitized pussy.  She watched as he paused to lick his fingers clean, another task he didn’t seem to mind at all.  Then he was gliding up her body, positioning himself at her opening, and sliding home. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Lying there, Tara thought that she’d never want to move again.  She was surprised that no one had come up to her room to fetch her downstairs.  Especially when the small clock on the dresser told her that it was getting close to lunchtime.  She felt wicked for thinking it, but spending the morning in bed with Lindsey had been fantastic; she couldn’t have asked for a better lover. 

A vision of Willow popped into her head, and she resolutely pushed its aside.  Anya had as much as told her that there’d be no going back, that the two of them were now stuck here. 

And she decided to embrace this new future wholeheartedly. 

Her eyes closed, and she could practically see it unfold before her.   

The Marshal would spend his days keeping the peace.  She’d play waitress down in the salon.  Or… maybe she could open a more respectable diner, one that catered to entire families.  Serving food and drinks yesterday hadn’t been all that bad, her attire not withstanding; most of the men had been rather nice once the Marshal had set them straight.  Their nights could be spent…doing much the same as what they were doing now.  Maybe in a few years they could have a baby… 

“A baby!” 

Tara sat up abruptly, clutching the sheet to her chest, her mind racing with the sudden implications of their recent activities. 

They hadn’t used any kind of birth control.  For all she knew, they hadn’t even invented it yet. 

~*~ 

Lindsey had been dozing, his hand idly stroking Tara’s bare arm, debating about whether or not he should throw on some clothes and get them something to eat when Tara shouted. 

Baby?   

Ok, not quite what he’d been expecting laying there with her wrapped in his arms.  But now that she’d mentioned it – more like shouted it in horror – he could see the need for some type of discussion on the subject. 

He sat up next to her, wincing slightly when she stiffened at his touch. 

“Tara?  What’s wrong?”  

“I-I…y-you… we…and then…”  Her cheeks grew red as she stuttered around the words she was trying to get out.  She stopped, drew in a deep calming breath and shook her head.  “I’m sorry.  It’s nothing… r-really.” 

She sighed then, long and heartfelt, trying to get her emotions under control but failing miserably.  Her head drooped and she stared at her hands that clutched the sheet to her chest, trying to fight back the tears she could already feel forming in her eyes. 

“Tara.  Talk to me.  I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.” 

“Wrong?”  She gave a depreciating laugh. “What could be wrong?  I-I’ve just had… done… and I…” 

“You what?” he asked her gently.  Talk about leading the witness! 

“I-I don’t belong here.  It w-was… an accident.  Only… only now I can’t go back… and… and now you…” She quieted, her eyes lifted beseechingly to his.  “You can’t help me, Lindsey…”  

“Sure I can.  You just have to tell me.” 

Unable to bear his earnest expression, she looked away, her gaze unfocused on the wall in front of her. 

“I can’t… you’re part of the problem,” she whispered barely loud enough for him to hear. 

She started crying then.  With her knees tucked to her chest, her head resting on top of them, tears slipped silently down her cheeks. 

Watching her, seeing her silent torment, was worse than before, when she’d sobbed against his chest. 

“Tara, I won’t let anything happen to you.  You’ve got to believe me.” 

Lindsey tried to draw her close, but her body was stiff.  Unyielding.  Unwilling, or unable, to be comforted.  He didn’t know what to do, what to say, to draw her out of her shell.  But seeing her like that was doing things to him. 

Suddenly recalling her outburst, he tried to see if that was what was worrying her. 

“Tara…” One hand cupped her jaw and coaxed her to look at him.  “Look at me, baby.” 

She finally did, her soulful blue eyes cutting him to the quick.  She looked so lost, more so than before. 

“Would it be such a bad thing?” he asked.  “Having my baby?  I’d take care of you…both of you.” 

“Really?” 

Her voice was so small, so unsure.  Afraid to hope.  To believe in his word.  Having been burned one too many times by the men in her life had made her distrust men in general. 

“Yes, really.”

Lindsey lowered his head and brushed his lips across hers.  Relief flooded through him when she responded, hesitantly at first, then with increasing ardor.  Until they fell back against the mattress, once more caught up in the dance. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Lunchtime came and went, and it was close to dusk before Lindsey roused himself enough to check in at the jailhouse. 

“Stay here until I get back.  I’ll order us up some supper while I’m gone.” 

Tara nodded and watched him leave.  Once the door clicked shut, she scrambled from beneath the covers and frantically set about cleaning up the place.  A bath was at the top of her list, but she had to settle for using the basin of water and washing up with one of the washrags that had been left with it. 

A quick look through the dresser drawers revealed more dresses like what she’d worn yesterday – until she reached the bottom one.  The nightgown that lay within was something her grandmother probably would have worn.  The white gown was long-sleeved, and when she slipped it over her head, the bottom swished around her ankles.  Not exactly what she wanted to greet Lindsey in, but it was much better than the revealing corset-type numbers filling the other drawers to overflowing. 

Feeling slightly better, now that she was garbed somewhat appropriately, she wandered about the room, picking up discarded items and setting things to rights.  She glanced out the window once she was finished; the boardwalks that lined either side of the dirt “street” were milling with people – respectable men and women slowly making their way home, unattached men seeking out the creature comforts that could be had within the salon.  Even now, the noise from downstairs was getting louder as the place began to fill.   

With nothing left to do, Tara settled in at the small table and waited. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Tara wasn’t quite sure how long she’d been sitting there, having dozed for a bit while waiting for Lindsey to return.  A sharp knock sounded at the door, jarring her from her daydream, then the door opened to reveal the Marshal.   

He had something in his hands, a box of some sort.  His eyes were alight with a mixture of excitement and… something else.  Something she couldn’t quite place.  Even his aura was difficult to decipher.  

He’d changed his clothes.  His “lawman’s” attire had been replaced with a nice pair of slacks and a button down shirt.  The scruff he’d been sporting was gone, and his wet hair was combed back from his face. 

He was all dressed up and she was sitting there in her nightgown. 

Tara watched as he walked inside and placed the box down on the table, gesturing for her to open it. 

She rose to her feet somewhat cautiously, not quite sure how she felt about him buying her things – not that she could really refuse, or that she even wanted to.  Before she could talk herself out of it, Tara lifted the lid and started at the dress lying amongst the tissue paper. 

“Put it on,” he urged. 

Tara reached out and gently fingered the blue cotton dress. 

“You bought me a dress.” 

“Yes.  There’s other… stuff, underneath.  Undergarments and such.” 

Tara looked away from the box and glanced up at the Marshal. 

“Hurry.  I’ve got a surprise.  And, I told him I’d be back in twenty minutes… half of which have already gone by.” 

Lindsey grabbed the dress out of the box and held it up, shaking it enticingly.  He really hoped she’d go along with what he had planned.  Not that he could blame her if she didn’t.  But, he’d told her he was going to look after her, and he meant it. 

Tara looked away and reached for the undergarments lying in the bottom of the box.  They were white, very soft to the touch.  Probably expensive, given the material that was used.   

She drew the nightgown over her head, not bothering to cover her nudity.  He’d touched every inch of her and then some.  Still didn’t keep her face from flaming, however – and she didn’t stop blushing even after the gown had been settled over her frame. 

“Think you’ll be able to put these on?” 

Lindsey held up a pair of low-heeled, black ankle boots for her inspection; Tara just nodded. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

“Where are we going?” she asked. 

Lindsey had steered her towards the back staircase that led to the outside, avoiding the saloon and its boisterous occupants.  Now, she eyed the town somewhat warily as they walked.  A few people still milled about in the early evening; some called out a friendly greeting to the Marshal when they passed, tipping their hats to Tara respectfully – to which she offered a polite, if somewhat soft, reply. 

It was her first opportunity at seeing where she’d spend the rest of her life, and Tara had to admit that the town of Devil’s Paradise wasn’t as bad as she’d come to expect. 

“Not far.  We’re almost there,” he replied somewhat evasively. 

Spying the church in the distance, Tara frowned.  It didn’t dawn on her what he intended until he’d led her inside and towards the altar – to where a man stood waiting for them.  Halfway up the aisle, she froze, dragging Lindsey to a halt.   

“Lindsey?” 

Her eyes were glued to the well dressed older gentleman holding a book in his hand, and how he was smiling indulgently at them. 

“Tara?” 

Tara tore her gaze away from the priest and stared up at Lindsey in confusion.  

“What…why—” 

“Marry me, Tara.” 

“Marry you?” 

“I told you I’d look after you.”   

“But…” 

“I’ve got a place…not far from here.  Comes with being the Marshal.  It’s not much.  Needs a woman’s touch.  But, we can make a go of it…” 

“But…” 

“We can go there tonight.  Right after the ceremony. You don’t have to stay at the saloon anymore…” 

“You don’t love me, Lindsey.”  Her voice was low, but no less earnest.  She didn’t look at him, instead staring at her feet. 

Lindsey stepped closer to her; he tucked a strand of hair behind Tara’s ear then tipped her chin up so that he could look her in the face. 

“I care about you, Tara.  Call me crazy, but when you walked into the saloon yesterday… and then you sang?  You had me, baby.” 

He watched her eyes tear up and he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.   

“Show me, Tara… show me how to love.” 

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