Erotic Western Historical Romance
The sudden click of the silver derringer's hammer being pulled back echoed in the quiet room, an ominous threat as to what would transpire if he didn't continue to follow orders.
"Now get rid of the bullets. And don't try anything funny."
Jackson's eyes narrowed at the command. "And chance you pulling the trigger just because you thought I might try something? I don't think so, Alli." He watched the flicker of indecision flash in her bright blue eyes. His gaze shifted to the washed-out cotton dress that hugged her well-rounded form. The garment had definitely seen better days, but it didn't take away from the fact that Alli was just as beautiful and alluring as the day so long ago when he'd left to join up with the Confederate Army. His eyes narrowed to focus more intimately on the shapely curves beneath the threadbare material. If he squinted hard enough, it was easy to see that she didn't have a stitch on beneath the ragged clothing. No pantaloons, no corset, no nothing. No wonder he was half hard.
Alli recognized the familiar glance of appreciative lust in his eyes. Years had gone by, but it was a look she'd never forgotten. Goddammit. She knew he imagined her naked body beneath her dress and the thought had her heart racing. She had quickly tossed the dress over her head this morning when the unusual sticky humidity of the morning air forewarned an April day filled with abnormal heat. Of all the rotten timing.
Why, why did I pick this day to toss a dress over my head. "Goddamn you, Jackson." Alli Nordstrom's slender hand shook slightly as she struggled against the glittering pull of his green eyes and, instead, concentrated on the government-issued hat that sat low across his brow—the only indication that he'd fought on the enemy's side. The war was all but finished. General Robert E. Lee had lain down his arms at Appomattox, the surrender crippling the southern army. It was just a matter of time until the official end to the war would be announced and the country would soon be unified again. But to Alli, Jackson still remained the enemy because of the long-ago day when he'd walked out on her to fight with the other side. She gripped the cold metal more firmly in her palm. "I said dump those bullets out of that damn gun."
Jackson sighed, resigning himself to the fact that it didn't pay to argue with her. He knew Alli too well. Their past relationship had been as volatile as the war, so why should anything be different now? He just needed to hang on to the fact that even though they were both stubborn, the air had always crackled between them when they were in the same room. It appeared that time had changed nothing over the course of the years. At least for him. His gut clenched and flickers of lust peppered through his chest at just the sight of her.
Fine. He'd play her game. Moving slowly so as not to antagonize Alli further, he reached for his pistol again, clicked the chamber to the side and then lifted the weapon into the air. Bullets rattled across the hard surface of the large weathered table only a second later. He laid the gun beside the only slug that hadn't rolled to the wooden floor and slowly crossed his arms over his chest. A wry grin curled his lips. "There. Are you happy?"
"I won't be happy until you get your ass off that chair and get the hell out of my house."
Jackson shook his head. "When did you learn to swear that way, Alli?"
Her tense jaw ticked as she met his laughing gaze. The son of a bitch—he doesn't think I'll shoot him. I'll show him. In a quick flash, she lifted the derringer an inch higher, took aim and shot a hole right through his gray Confederate hat. He never flinched a muscle when the hat sailed off his head and landed on the floor beside him. The only indication that the crack of the small gun had surprised him was a slight widening of the eyes.
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