Page 9 of The Hardest Part

Emily’s sounds made him confident. Breathy pants and soft whimpers became moans. He traced her hole with his tongue pointed. She seemed okay with that, so Billy pushed it inside, and fuck. Succulent. He couldn’t think of another word to describe it. A pussy that tasted like salted honey. He twitched, his breath easing between his teeth.

She tangled her fingers in his hair, holding him to her cunt.

He answered with a breathless chuckle.

Wishing his throbbing dick could be inside her, he fucked her with his tongue. Then, with a torturously slow lick up her slit, he brushed over her clit. Just barely. Billy did it again and again until she shimmied her hips to get his tongue right whereshe wanted it. Slow circles. Quick flicks back and forth. He experimented to see what would bring her the most pleasure.

Addicted to the taste of her now, Billy nibbled at her clit. He suckled on it, and sensing she was close, slid a finger inside her.

He loved watching her unravel.

But it was the sound of her cries as she tumbled over the edge that was his undoing.

Hot, sticky semen filled his underwear.

“You were right, Billy.” Emily panted, her fingers raking through his hair. “I saw the stars.”

He kissed her clit and smiled.

Twenty-four wagons formed a circle in a dusty clearing some sixty paces from the river’s edge, a campfire burning at its center. Oxen, horses, and cattle grazed, oblivious to the evening din of a fiddler. Boisterous card games. Children playing tag. Where did that energy come from after walking all those miles? They’d gone another twelve today, Levi reckoned. Could’ve done fifteen, maybe, if they hadn’t had to prolong their nooning to repair Quigley’s wheel.

He gazed over at the mountain range that loomed up ahead. The setting sun appeared to melt into the rocky, snow-capped peaks. To reach California, they had to cross them before winter set in or perish. It was going to take a miracle, some divine intervention. August was nearly gone.

“We shoulda listened and left in May.”

Hell, April would have been even better if anyone had bothered to ask him, but no one did. It would’ve fallen on deaf ears, anyway. To his father, Levi was just a kid—seen and not heard—when it suited him.

“Couldn’t. We had to wait for them spring rains to let up.” Elijah threw an arm around his neck. “Imagine the wagonsgetting stuck in all that muck. Swollen rivers, rising waters churning. I doubt we’d have gotten everyone across ‘em.”

“Not to mention whirlwinds.”

Levi pivoted to stare blankly at an unfamiliar leathery face. Golden eyes. Long wiry hair, more silver than brown, with a beard to match. His shirt and britches sewn from deerskin.

“Twisters.” Chuckling under his breath, the man’s lip quirked up on one side. “My woman called ‘em storm horses. I’ve seen a herd of buffalo swept up into the sky until they were nothin’ but wiggling black specks. Consider yourself favored you ain’t run into one of those yet.”

“You must be Mr. Walker.”

“Josiah.” He tipped his hat, hitching his thumb behind him. “These here are my daughters, Lucy and Fallon.”

Her name is Lucy.

The girl from the river. She was even more beautiful up close. Golden eyes like her father. A hint of a smile. Neither she nor her sister would look at him, though, their gazes downcast.

“Pleasure. Levi Gantry,” he said, shaking Walker’s hand. He proudly turned to the twins who’d come to stand beside him, having returned from bathing little Elizabeth. “And my sisters, Mary Alice and Victoria.”

“Ladies.” His gaze lingering on their like visages, he offered them a polite nod.

“And I’m Elijah Brooks.” Stepping forward, he extended his hand.

Josiah shook it, looking down at the child who clung to Elijah’s knee. “That your little girl there?”

“Elizabeth? No, she’s my baby sister.”

“Where’s your mama and papa, child?” he asked, getting down on his haunches.

The little girl didn’t blink an eye. “Dead.”

Elijah patted the long, wet hair dripping splotches on the muslin of her dress. They all fretted for Elizabeth. She had yet to cry for her mother. “We lost them, and our sister, back in Nebraska territory. There was cholera and—”

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