Chapter 18

Lou had almost reached the shack when the dark clouds rising up out of the southwestern sky let loose. In seconds he was drenched. The rain fell so heavily that he could not see more than twenty feet in any direction. He could still make out the ground he was traveling, but just, forcing him to watch his footing even more. A curtain of silver gray streaks blurred his vision. Water fell from the sky with such force it bounced against the rocky ground. Every pocket in rock or ground quickly flooded with puddles that almost jumped with life from the barrage of falling rain drops, as if an explosion of bullets rained fire on each one. Water streamed off Lou's hair and down his now bearded face. His clothing seemed to weigh three times what it normally did. Clambering carefully down the path leading from ridge line to the ledge on the canyon wall, a sense of home coming filled him at the sight of fire light beckoning through the open door of the shack. Even more inviting was the sight of Mary silhouetted in the doorway watching for his return. As he closed the distance between them, Lou saw Mary's hand shielding her eyes from the downpour, her head ducked as if to better see his approaching figure.

Mary gathered her skirts and dove into the downpour, splashing her way to him. Lou's breath caught in his throat. Rain plastered the thin cotton of her pale peach dress to her body before she covered five feet. She might as well have been a naked angel. Her long, shapely legs carried her fluidly towards him. Her slender arms reached out to him. And when she had finally closed the space between, Mary pressed herself to him with such intensity Lou could feel the pounding of her breath.

In the pouring rain, Lou threw Patrick's shotgun into the mud and lifted the woman from the sodden ground in a return embrace. To hell with the shotgun, he'd clean it later. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tightly against him. He knew she felt his jutting manhood. He knew exactly how she felt about his excitement. Her hips pushed her almost hungrily against it. The rain swallowed them as Mary's fingertips traced the features of his face then twined themselves in his hair and lustily drew his mouth to hers. Sliding from his embrace, Mary led Lou inside to the warmth of the fire. He only paused long enough to retrieve Patrick's shotgun from the mud. Their eyes never lost contact except what was required to navigate the doorway and the scant furnishings of the shack. In moments they stood dripping onto the hard packed floor in front of the fire's heat.

Lou leaned over and set Patrick's old shotgun against the wall. Mary knew full well what his having the old gun meant. When he opened his mouth to speak she silenced him by pressing her fingers against his lips. Without a word, she lowered her hand to his chest and began removing his shirt, unbuttoning it to his waist. Lou stood silently while she moved from button to button, his eyes locked with hers. As she began pulling the wet cloth out of his pants, his large hands reached out and began unbuttoning the line of small bone buttons holding her dress's form fitting fabric together from waist to neck. When Lou's fingers fumbled on the second button, Mary's eyes broke contact with his for a moment, coyly looking down at the floor. Lou's hand stopped in mid-movement. He held perfectly still, breath held tightly within his chest, until she looked up into his eyes again. The message written there gave him all the permission he needed to continue.

With the front of her wet dress loosened to her waist, Lou reached up and began slowly, easing the material of her dress off her shoulders. The smoothness of skin unveiled at the base of her neck pulled his lips to plant a gentle kiss. Mary, in turn, worked at releasing the belt that held his pants together and restrained Lou's growing manhood.

"Oh my Heavens," Mary gasped as the buttons on his denims parted and her gaze lowered.

Mary's excited anticipation shone clearly in her face. The exclamation came as much from surrender to passion as from the excited rush infusing her when her eyes encountered his exposed flesh.

"Mary, I..." Lou breathed. His mouth was suddenly parched.

"Don't." Mary's eyes once again caught and held Lou's in tender response. "I don't want to talk." She raised on the tips of her toes and softly pressed her lips to his.

Lou's hands slowly continued working the wet material off Mary's shoulders. Their unhurried exploration of mouths pressed in a kiss gently broke. He pulled back enough to watch fascinated while gently tugging at wet fabric against wet skin, until the opening in Mary's dress widened enough to be lowered over the twin rise of her breasts, finally freeing the dark pink tips of her nipples. Drawing the clinging cloth down her arms, he moved himself forward until the warmth of her breasts seared his own chest and they both lost themselves in passion.

Mary began frantically pulling the clinging material of Lou's shirt off his shoulders. She stepped back and tugged in impatient jerks that turned Lou's shirt sleeve inside out. She did not take the time to work at the cuff button, but instead grasped the split of the cuff', tearing the button loose from its stitching. Realizing she was much too excited to take off the remaining sleeve without loosing yet another button, Lou released its hold himself while Mary began removing the other sleeve from his shoulder even as the button came undone. The shirt was discarded behind her carelessly as soon as his fingers emerged from the sleeve. Stepping forward, back into the grasp of his naked arms, Mary wrapped her own around Lou's waist and clutched the waist band of his pants to drag them from his body. She bent at the waist, her wet hair leaving a trail of rain water on his skin as she worked the pants legs down to wrap around the boots Lou had not had time to remove.

Lou struggled momentarily with the pants that bound his feet, then forgot them. He guided Mary away from her own futile efforts to pull his pants legs over his boots. The tips of her breasts glided along his skin as she rose. His eyes drank in the sight of her. The musky scent of her arousal filled him.

Breath whistling past his lips, Lou stripped Mary's dress over the curve of her hips and allowed it to fall around her feet. Lou's excitement at the prospect of the sensations soon to be delivered to him by this vibrantly alive young lass was intensified by her own excitement. His senses reeled. His manhood throbbed its need. When their naked bodies came together and Mary tilted her head to receive his kiss, he cupped the roundness of her buttocks in his hands and pressed her lower body closer to him. Her own rising desire, the warmth of her stomach against his groin, brought a moan from deep within his throat, matching her own.

Had Lou wanted to, he could not now have stopped their move to Mary's bed. If he thought at all about his previous caution towards emotional involvement with the woman now laying beneath him, those thoughts were buried as deeply as his manhood buried itself into her inviting depths. As his breath slowed and Lou sank toward a satisfied slumber, he knew the truth. Only leaving as soon as he was well enough to travel could have averted the inevitable. With Mary's brow resting against his chest and Lou's arms spread out across the bed clothes, his mind tumbled into deep sleep. His last thought was of the pants still wrapped around the boots that passion had prevented him from removing.

Mary's still slumbering body stirring against him roused Lou from a province far distant from the little shack in the canyon and many layers deep in his mind. Never had Lou experienced the intensity of passion Mary had shown. Wryly, he acknowledged a new truth. He would judge every woman he possessed from here forward by the complete, open enjoyment this complex young lady displayed. She gave herself so unselfishly. And every move he made to heighten his passion or her own was accepted as if it were an uncommon gift. It was as if he was the only man she had ever desired.

Lou moved his shoulder into a more comfortable position. The exertion of their love-making appeared to have taxed it some. She was a widow, so he supposed she'd had some experience. Yet, the surprise she'd expressed in word and movement as the feelings of making love overcame her told him she really didn't know the game as well as he might have guessed. Her breath had torn itself from her mouth as they undressed each other. Her soft moans and mews told him she was feeling without thought beyond the moment. Yet she had moved fluidly, as if nothing about his own personal desires was unknown to her. Lou absently fondled a lock of auburn hair laying errant across his chest while he further pondered the paradox.

The only women he'd known previously were professionals, and their approach was so jaded he was taken by surprise by Mary's obvious enjoyment. This gave Lou a new and exciting outlook. It thrilled him to think a woman could want him as much as his own excitement drove him. He'd never before considered the possibility of a woman being driven. He'd never before considered the woman beneath him at all. If Mary was actually discovering her sexuality for the first time, he was making discoveries of his own.

Mary did not open her eyes when she first felt Lou move beside her. She lay quietly next to him, breathing in the scent of their lovemaking, reliving the last two hours. She had never experienced anything like it. What Patrick had forced on her had given her absolutely no clue as to the intense rapture possible between a man and a woman. This was so totally different from anything she had imagined possible. Even now, when their passion had been allowed to burn itself to a cinder of its former self, the simple touch of Lou's skin to her own stirred her. Passion, that was the missing piece. But not ever again. She would follow her passion and taste of it over and over.

As Lou moved up onto his elbow, she was sure his gaze rested on her body laying nude and uncovered beside him. Delight in the thought brought another joy. With the freshly heightened awareness of her climax yet lingering, she felt a rippling thrill of pleasure in direct response to knowing that she brought Lou equal happiness. All he need do was give her the least indication that he wanted anything, and she would give it, whatever it might be. Contentment coursing through her, Mary hoped Lou would want to share the intimate union of flesh at every opportunity. And she hoped he would show an interest quickly. She was ready now.

When Lou woke again the rain had stopped. Not even the noise of distant thunder echoed down the canyon to remind him of the storm's passing. He lay motionlessly holding Mary's body close and listened to water drip from the ragged eaves of the shack. The rolling boom of thunderstorms would forever remind him of this lovely creature laying beside him.

The fire having died down to flickering amber coals, the night air was cool against his naked skin. Reaching out in the dark Lou managed to snag the blanket folded to the bottom of the bed. He flipped the heavy flannel spread over their bodies, careful not to wake the still sleeping young woman as he tucked the blanket around her shoulders. The combined warmth given off by their bodies soon had him comfortable and he drifted off to sleep once more.

The next two weeks passed with Mary and Lou wrapped in enchantment with each other. Mary no longer needed the increasingly less frequent shaking of the earth as an excuse to scramble into Lou's arms and ease the fear the quakes caused her. Their lusty lovemaking erased any other thought from her consciousness. Only the voices inside Mary's head flawed an otherwise idyllic time. Now that she had followed the lead of her senses and taken Lou as her lover, Mother continued her chastisements and Lucifer seemed never quite satisfied with Mary's expression of passion.

"Can't you move about more when he's inside you? Hell, you just lay back like a sack of flour. Touch him. Stroke him. Reach down and grab him. Let your fire show so he knows you want it."

"My God. Don't listen to him, Mary. What you're doing already is bad enough. Do you want Lou to think you're completely wanton?"

Mother's shock at the thoughts Lucifer planted was almost amusing. Yes, she wanted Lou to know she was purely 'wanton'. When it came to this, the physical enjoyment of his well muscled body, she could not get enough. She wanted to do it all. Anything that would tell him she'd given herself to him completely.

At the same time, the running commentary of the voices was a distraction. Here she was, trying her utmost to open herself completely to the giving and taking of sexual pleasure and Lucifer kept whispering lewd remarks. Not that his suggestions were entirely upsetting, she might even try one or two them at some point, it was just impossible to fully enjoy Lou's attention with Lucifer droning in her ear.