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Copyright ©2008 by Missy Lyons
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Also by Missy Lyons
Gold Fever copyright 2008 by Missy Lyons
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"Are you sure there isn't anything else?" Barbara Lane asked while running her fingers nervously through her golden locks of hair. She was beginning to feel faint, and unfortunately she was not prone to fainting. Then again, fainting wasn't going to get her out of this mess.
The New England summer heat was making the lawyer's office stifling. How could the lawyer stand being dressed in his three-piece business suit? She was already hot and sticky from the heat, and this news wasn't helping her to stay cool, calm, or collected. She worked her fan furiously with her free hand, hoping not to faint right in front of the lawyer she hired. The light breeze lifted wisps of blonde hair away from her serious face.
She had dressed impressively in her frilly pink dress. Frothy layers of lace made the dress appear to float as she walked. It created the impression of being richer than she was, but she had no doubt she couldn't afford this now and should not have splurged on the dress. If that was all her father left her, it wouldn't even cover the lawyer's fees. She had planned on the inheritance being enough to help out with some of these costs.
The lawyer pulled uncomfortably at the collar of his starched white linen shirt while turning over the last will and testament of Joseph Lane. He adjusted his spectacles high on the brim of his nose, before finally speaking. "No. That's everything."
"Read it again for me, please," she said in an octave higher than normal, mentally cursing her father for bothering to put her in his will.
The lawyer readjusted the reading glasses on the tip of his nose before reading the will for the second time. "I, Joseph Lane, being of sound mind and body, do hereby bequeath all my physical possessions including my mining claim in Solvang, California to my only begotten daughter, Barbara Lane." He looked back up to Barbara before continuing. "This is pretty clear to me. It seems you are now the proud owner of a gold mine."
"No. It can't be," she said in disbelief, then questioned, "What am I supposed to do with a gold mine?"
"Whatever you want, Miss Lane. It's yours to do with as you please."
"But I don't know the first thing about gold mines..." Barbara was in complete shock, but should not have been surprised. It seemed that her father had let her down in death just as he had in life. This would be more money she would have to spend that she really couldn't afford to spend, and it would all come out of the last of the money her mother had left her. The trust fund was nearly empty. She would be practically destitute after she paid the lawyer for his services today.
Her father had been a complete heel when he left her mother nine months pregnant. He never came back and she had not heard anything more about it until now. He never visited her, never wrote them a single letter. It was a good thing that her mother was as beautiful as she was or she would never have been able to remarry with a bastard daughter in tow.
But all that was in the past. Barbara was twenty-five years old now and suddenly her father remembered her in his will. Well, he could have let her stay a forgotten part of his past. That mining claim was what he wasted his entire life on. If he had not hit a gold strike by now, what were the odds in her favor?
No, she would have to try to sell the useless claim to someone else to work, but first she should at least take a look at it. Maybe he built a decent house or something of value on the property.
Her luck couldn't possibly be so bad as to have this be a complete waste of time. Could it?
Barbara let out an audible sigh before making her decision. She would have to head west and just find out exactly what it was that she now owned.
"I guess I am the proud owner of a gold mine." Barbara stood up and reached to shake the lawyer's hand, squeezing it in hers. She smiled weakly as she said, "Thank you so much for your time, Mr. Peterson, and if you know anyone who needs a gold mine, please let me know."
He grasped her hand firmly in his and shook her hand in return. "Certainly, Miss Lane, but I doubt I know anyone who would be interested."
Barbara patted the dust out of her skirts as she exited the hired stagecoach. The plain black stagecoach was devoid of any luxurious trappings, made to only service the masses in transit cheaply, and it stank of poverty, cheap cigars, and strong perfume. The dark interior only intensified the heat, and the small windows allowed very little air to circulate inside. It made for a long hard ride.
Barbara had been asking herself for the last few months why she bothered to travel all this way. So she couldn't help but ask herself again, why was she here? She should be in the cool mountains of North Carolina. That was where she belonged. North Carolina was where she grew up and, until now, had never left. California was so different, so hot, so desert like, and she couldn't stop kicking herself for bothering to come.
Rumors suggested that the men outnumbered the women. That couldn't hurt since she would be looking for a husband, eventually. Of course she heard it was a good place to start a new life, to raise a family, but she might as well be camping out. Something Barbara Lane had never done in her life.
"Hmmmph. It's not like I am some Indian maiden," she muttered to herself.
California was a wilderness unlike anything she had ever seen, and it made her think twice about whether she was meant for this kind of harsh environment.
She was hot, sweat permeating the thick layers of her clothing. Not even for the hot California sun was she going to give up wearing her chemise or any other of the proper garments of a lady. Three months of traveling across the country had not stopped her from being any less of a lady, a little sun wasn't going to change her, either.
The lawyer had explained that the mine came with a house and she planned to stay there until she could dispose of the property.
Looking at it for the first time, she reconsidered her decision. The house was not very impressive at first glance. It was more of a shack than a house. The windows were covered in dust, and a fresh paint was needed. It just carried an unclean feeling on first sight, but she really couldn't afford a hotel now that she had used up nearly all of her money getting here.
"Ma'am? Where do you want your bags?" the driver asked her while untying her baggage from the top of the stagecoach. He picked up her trunk and it landed on the ground with a cloud of dust.
Barbara wrinkled her nose at the thought of more dirt coming in the house. Everything was dusty and with very little grass around the cabin, she would be fighting the dirt coming into the house for as long as she lived here. "Just help me carry them to the house and that should be fine. Thank you, sir."
"I got it." When she bent down to take the handle of her trunk, he brushed her hand away, lugging it over one shoulder and carrying it to the front porch. The burly driver set it down with a thud.
"You gonna be all right, ma'am?" His voice was thick with unease, his eyes warm and welcoming.
"Of course, thank you for your concern," Barbara said in a shaky voice. She wasn't sure she believed she would be fine, and here she was consoling his fears. She forced a smile to look more confident of her decision to stay alone.
"Well, if you need anything---all you have to do is ask. The town isn't too far away, and neither am I, ma'am." He tipped his hat before turning and walking away.
Barbara turned the knob on the front door and was extremely happy when it opened. Breaking into her own house left little appeal for her. Looking around the dismal little one-room cabin, she decided a cleaning would be in order. Dirty clothes littered the floor, dirty dishes were piled up in a tub in the corner, and a layer of brown dust was everywhere, coating the sparse furniture in the small house.
Barbara let out a whistle appraising the chores ahead of her. It would take a while but it was a necessary task. She thought clearer when her surroundings were clean, and she wouldn't be able to think at all until this place held some kind of order. Then she could figure out the next step to take in her life, and figure out exactly how she was going to sell this house.
The coach took off suddenly, leaving her isolated at the lone cabin. The horses whinnied and the wheels creaked as it moved back towards the road.
There is no turning back now, she thought wistfully.
Barbara cleaned for hours, scrubbing the wooden floors, dusting off the worn furniture, washing down the windows, until she fell onto the bed, exhausted. The quilted down comforter enfolded her in its warm folds. She didn't mean to close her eyes, but the physical fatigue consumed her. It wasn't long before she drifted into a dreamless sleep.
Darkness settled over the new frontier and went unnoticed by Barbara as she slept on the bed. It was not until much later, she was startled awake by the sound of the door swing open and closed. Heavy footsteps broke the silence of the night. Her heart froze in fear as she realized she had forgotten to lock the door. It was pitch black in the cabin, and so quiet she could hear the stranger's breathing across the room from her. She was a woman in a strange place. A wild land, full of Indians and cowboys. Outlaws walked among everyone else freely. The law of the west was about who carried the bigger gun. It wasn't safe for her to be alone like this. What had she been thinking?
Silently she lay still frozen in place on the bed, agonizing over what to do next. She couldn't see him, but he sounded big. She imagined it was his coat that just fell to the floor. He sat down on the chair, loosening his clothing.
Good Lord! He was undressing!
Barbara hoped he didn't plan to join her in the bed. He didn't know she was there yet. Perhaps if she was quiet she could slip out unnoticed. Then she could go get the sheriff to throw the trespasser out. She moved one leg slowly to the edge of the bed, trying not to make a sound. She imagined he just took off his shirt as she stood up in the darkness. Revealing a bare chest that no lady of good society should be seeing on any man except her husband.
The soft material barely made a sound as it was tossed on the floor. He began to whistle in the dark as he worked to undress. One shoe hit the floor with a thud, and then another. What was he doing now? Working at his belt perhaps? Goodness sake, she was going to be in the room with a naked man soon. She heard another item of clothing hit the floor with a clink. There was not much left to remove but his pants, so she wasn't surprised when she could hear the sound of the material being removed as he pulled it off his legs.
Desperation hit her. She had to get out of here now! This was incredibly dangerous. Being alone with a man who was both a stranger and naked was a recipe for disaster. No one even knew she was here alone to worry about her if she went missing. There was no one she knew that could help her. Nowhere that she could go. Stealthily she crept to the door and towards safety.
The floor creaked under him as he stood up and came towards her. Panic seized her heart and suddenly in a frenzy, she threw the door open, running for her freedom.
"What the hell?" Vincent Waverly heard the door slam and the sound of someone running out of the cabin. That wasn't the the wind. His heart pounded with a mixture of anger and fear. What was that person doing in here? Why hadn't they spoken a word to him? He didn't know who it was, but he did know he wasn't going to let that someone get away from him.
Barbara could hear him curse before running after her. His breath came hard as he pounded the soft earth behind her. She pushed herself to run faster, lifting her skirt up out of the way of her feet. Unrelenting he refused to allow her to escape.
Suddenly he was upon her, his strong arms locking around her chest, imprisoning her arms and using his bodyweight to knock her to the ground. The soft earth and grass broke her fall, but it momentarily knocked the wind from her lungs. She struggled against his arms, pulling at him until he cursed again.
"Let go of me!" she demanded, wriggling under his body.
"You're a girl?" his deep voice said in disbelief. His hands were on her ripe breasts, feeling the fullness of them as if to be sure of her sex.
"Not a girl." She puffed out her chest indignantly, arching away from him. "I am a woman. Now get off of me, you big oaf."
He wasn't about to argue with her there. She was most definitely a woman, with very womanly curves. However, he wasn't about to remove his body from hers until he had some answers, and even then he wasn't sure he wanted to get off her. His body was already responding to being in such close contact and she was a perfect stranger. His powerful body pinned her to the ground, and in a most ungentlemanly like manner. This was not a situation he anticipated. His conscience dictated that he should be removing his body from hers, but there was still another matter to consider. What was she doing here in the first place?
He growled out, "Not so fast. What were you doing in my house?"
She seemed indignant when she responded, her voice lined with restrained anger, "Your house? It belongs to me. I am Joseph Lane's daughter."
"Who?" He didn't recognize the name, but instinctively knew she wasn't the burglar he originally suspected. She really did think she belonged here. He turned her body over, kneeling above her. Her disheveled hair was strewn about her shoulders. His cock was hardening in response to her feminine curves, straining against the confines of his pants. Vincent always had been a sucker for a beautiful woman. There were too many women in his memories. He couldn't remember half of their names, but this one...
"Joseph Lane." Barbara paused a moment. If this stranger belonged here at all, he would recognize the name. "He owned the gold mine here and built this house, and I have come to claim it now that he died. You are the one that is trespassing," she gritted out between clenched teeth.
The man cocked his head studying her in the moonlight. It was lighter out here than in the house and he could see the resemblance now. She looked like his old friend, Buster. He stared deep into her stormy eyes. Her eyes were a prettier shade of blue than her father's, only accentuated by her anger. He let his gaze trail down her face to her heaving breasts, making her even more tempting. As if she sensed where his mind was headed, she let out a small growl.
She was a spitfire, to be sure.
"What is your name?" he asked.
Her fighting spirit captivated him. Even overpowered, she wasn't about to give up her escape. Her lips pursed in resentment of her confinement.
"Barbara Lane." Her angry voice sounded almost sexy with its raspy tone.
"You're Buster's daughter?"
"No. I just told you. I am Joseph Lane's daughter. Do you have a hearing problem?"
Apparently she never knew her father was known around these parts as Buster, not Joseph. He smirked at her comment, chuckling to himself. That snippy attitude would help him keep his cock under control. She was far too tempting under him. He could feel every curve of her, his groin nestled into hers as if it belonged there, and the way she wiggled made him loathe to make a move to get off her.
Begrudgingly, he got off her, and noticed she was suddenly aware of his near naked state. She gawked at him before turning away with a blush to stare at the ground. He stretched out his hand to help her up to a sitting position and she reluctantly took it.
It was plain to him that she was an innocent. She looked at him as if she had never seen a naked man before, and Vincent didn't mind the way her gaze had drifted curiously over his body. He knew he turned most of the ladies' heads, but she was different somehow in the way she tried to keep her eyes modestly avoiding him. Though he could tell her body was reacting to his as well, and not from fear.
He pulled her close to him, but not touching her intimately. Making him acutely aware of her body.
"It's my pleasure to meet you, my dear. My name is Vincent Waverly."
Irritated, she blew out a breath with a huff. The man was making it impossible not to like him. Worse, her body was responding to the proximity of his as if she were a common doxy. She placed her hands between them, pushing up against his chest. He had to leave. He didn't belong here, and she did. So, it was time to rectify the situation. "I wish I could agree, Mr. Waverly, but I am not fond of trespassers, and you are trespassing."
He rolled over, placing a hand over hers and pulling her on top of him. She sat on his lap as he lay there under her, just enjoying the view of her full breasts rising and falling with each breath. He withdrew his hand from hers before crossing his arms over his well-muscled chest. One eyebrow raised high in amusement as she spoke.
"Mr. Waverly, I don't know how long you have been living in that house, but it is my house now. So now that I am here, I would appreciate if you gather your things and leave."
"Really?" he questioned, his voice lightly mocking.
"Yes." She swallowed hard. What if he refused her request? He didn't look like he wanted to leave. She would have to go to the sheriff and get him thrown out. There was just no way he could go on living with her in that house. No respectable lady would even consider it. So what if the idea made her pulse pound in her ears. So what if he had one of the most attractive bodies she had ever seen.
All the more reason for him to leave now.
He didn't belong here and she did.
"Too bad, lady. I am not leaving." With that, he shoved her away from him, walking past her and straight back to her house.
That defiant action fueled Barbara's anger.
It was her house.
What did he mean he wasn't leaving?
Her sharp intake of breath wasn't enough to get his attention, so she let out a cry of frustration, before running after him. Her feet barely touched the ground in her haste.
Barbara clutched his arm. "Why not? It's my house."
"It's also my house. Buster and I were partners, my dear." He carefully unlatched her fingers from his arm. "I own half that house and half of that claim and you aren't getting rid of me that easily."
Barbara's legs froze in place, shocked. She watched his solidly built body disappear into the house. She wasn't prepared for this revelation. She wanted to see proof of what he said was true. How could this have happened? Nothing in her father's will had said anything about him having a partner.
Vincent woke to a warm female body next to his. Soft, long legs intertwined with his. Her skin carried the clean scent of honey and lavender. He was tempted to touch her and pull her into his body, but thought the better of such wicked ideas.
She would be hell to live with if she thought he had taken advantage of her, and right now it was more like she was taking advantage of him. He grinned, nuzzling his face into her soft hair. She was the one who sought out his body heat in the night. She was the one who kicked her skirts up, and she was the one who made the decision to sleep in the same bed. So, it was her fault their legs were now intertwined, and their bodies were so very close.
Last night he thought about being the gentleman and giving up his bed to her, but he was damned if he was going to let some female into his life and turn his world upside down. It was his bed, damn it. She came in here demanding he give up his house and when she asked him for the bed there was no way he was about to give it to her. Not after the condescending way she treated him. She could sulk all she wanted, but a man had limits. Buster and he had been able to share the full-size bed, and he was fine with it. Barbara could act like an adult about it, too. It wasn't like he planned on seducing her or anything.
She had fallen asleep long after him. Now he was taking advantage, savoring a slow perusal of her body when she still had an angelic look on her face from her dreams, not those pursed lips and devilish tongue that lashed out at him. She didn't have that constant frown on her face and she wasn't glaring at him for once. Instead, soft eyelashes brushed her skin. Her full chest rose and fell in gentle even breaths.
God, and what a delicious chest it was. Full, ripe, womanly breasts that were generously overflowing her chemise. She could get a job with the saloon in town as soon as they took one look at those beauties. She had assets that would draw a crowd, and keep business coming back for more. He would certainly pay to have her. Although, bringing her to Annie's Saloon wasn't something he wanted to do anytime soon. Sharing her with another man didn't appeal to him, and Vincent was a frequent visitor to the saloon. Barbara wasn't the type of lady who would understand about his dalliances.
He frowned at that thought. It wasn't like he planned on changing his life around for her, but sure enough, the changes had already started. He was going to have to not do the things that could offend a delicate woman. Which meant too many changes in his life.
No more whoring.
No more gambling.
She probably would try to put an end to his drinking, too.
Damn women always want to change a man.
Which was a very good reason not to have just one woman in his life.
Women complicated things.
She murmured in her sleep, nestling into the crook of his arm, and he stopped resisting the temptation to put his arm around her. He cradled her with his other arm. Damn, but she was a tempting wench. Such a soft delicate flower would be snatched up in no time if any of the men from town knew she was here. Especially if she did not have a husband.
That thought put a foul taste in his mouth. Somehow he didn't want to believe that she was another man's wife. Certainly a husband wouldn't allow such a woman to go unaccompanied into the west? No, she could not possibly be married. A snake of worry worked itself into his stomach, twisting his gut.
Not that he should be concerned about that. Where had that thought come from? He was not a jealous man. He had no intention of marrying her or anyone else. Marrying was the end of a man's freedom, and he intended to be free as long as possible. He chuckled softly to himself. That was when the sleeping angel turned into the hellion he met last night.
Her eyes flew open and he watched the emotions cross her face, reading them as plain as any book.
First there was alarm, then shock, then she had to be remembering what passed between them last night, because finally the only expression left on her face was that same evil glare he remembered from the night before.
Wild and untamed.
Those were the words that came to his mind to describe her. Her hair fell softly around her face, like a golden halo, and her angelic face hardened into the perfect seraphim, God's warrior. Her fair features, stood out as perfect as those of a doll. Although her blue eyes were icy, and her lips pursed shut, she was still too beautiful to resist.
He felt an intense need to tame that wild spirit of hers. He wanted to kiss her. Break her like a wild horse. He doubted that any man had tamed her.
Only an innocent would blush at the sight of seeing a man's naked chest. Or wake up indignant to find herself wrapped up in his arms, when she put herself there. One side of his mouth kicked up as he entertained the delightful thought of teaching her what it meant to submit to him.
"How dare you!" she hissed.
He grinned at her, amused at her sudden viciousness. "Good morning, sugar. Just when I thought there may have been a nice side to you---you go and spoil it."
"You---you---you irritating man!" She attempted to wriggle out of his legs and free herself, but he locked his legs together tighter, denying her any escape. She pushed at his chest, her hands splaying in his chest hair as she cried out, "Let me go!"
"Maybe if you tried asking nicely."
"You don't deserve to be asked nicely." She stilled her wrestling for a moment before gritting out the word, "Please."
Suddenly he released her and she darted up off the bed, muttering under breath, "You are such a horse's ass."
"Now that doesn't sound very much like the polished young lady I imagined you to be." He sat up slightly on one elbow.
She turned around to glare at him, ignoring his laughter.
"Well, if you were a gentleman, you would have given up the bed last night as I requested." Her hands went to her hips, defiantly.
"I would have. If it was to a lady."
She was silent at first, registering the insult.
She responded a little late, but in kind. "I am a lady. Pig." She turned her back in a huff and stomped over to the kitchen table and chairs. She sat down with a flurry of skirts and put her elbows on the table so she could hold her head in her hands.
This was never going to work if they couldn't get along. Vincent threw the bedcovers aside and walked across the room in his shorts to get his pants. He pulled them on, one leg at a time. Not quite sure of what to say, or if it was even possible to start over.
He knew enough women over the years to know that women could hold grudges forever, and this one seemed to be prone to temper tantrums. Another reason things could never work out between them. She was too immature for him.
"Look, I'm sorry that we got off on the wrong foot."
She glared back up at him. "Wrong foot? We are way beyond that. How can I trust you if I am going to wake up with your hands all over me in the morning?" A crimson blush spread across her face and then down her neck.
"You can trust me. I didn't touch you, did I? You still have your innocence," he said in frustration.
"You mean you didn't? And that we didn't ... Thank God!"
"No. You can be sure that you would remember it in the morning if we did, sugar. You would still be feeling it," he said in a cocky voice.
"Well that will never happen," she said arrogantly.
"Never say never, sugar. You could learn a few things from me." He smiled. He would enjoy teaching her all the lessons of being a lover. It would be a challenge to raise her passions to a frenzied level of desire. To hear her begging him to fuck her. He shifted in his seat, spreading his legs a little as he felt himself swell at the thought.
Perhaps he should be seducing her. He looked at her as if for the first time. Watching as she backed up a step, acting suddenly nervous at the direction the conversation had taken. The predator in him surfaced too quickly.
Vincent didn't want to upset her any further. So he tried another tactic. His voice was suddenly kind, his manner less threatening. "I am sorry about you losing your father, by the way."
"Don't be. I really didn't know him. He left my mother when she was pregnant." Her biting tone denoted a wound that had never healed.
Christ. He wanted to give her a hug. His chest was tight as he watched her shift uncomfortably in her seat, avoiding his gaze. She was still hurting inside after the man who did this to her was long dead.
"Buster wasn't a bad guy. He always talked about how when he made it big he was going to take care of you."
"Well, he never did. All he did was chase a pipe dream. And you," she motioned towards Vincent, "are just as bad. What kind of life is this? Do you want to be digging in a mine your entire life?"
"It's not a bad life, sugar, and your father wasn't a bad man." He padded across the floor to the kitchen area. Loading up the stove with some wood, he prepared the fire to make breakfast. He pulled a ceramic bowl off a shelf and a wooden spoon off a hook on the wall to make the biscuits.
Observing him prepare the morning breakfast had to be the strangest thing she'd ever seen. Most men she knew wouldn't survive long without a woman to take care of his house and feed his stomach. Clearly, Vincent had been looking after himself for a long time. Long enough to learn how to fend for himself and how to cook.
Barbara looked on in amazement as he used the spoon to drop blobs of dough onto the iron skillet before shoving the pan in the oven. The smell of sizzling bacon filled up the small cabin. Suddenly she realized how hungry she was. She had not eaten anything since yesterday morning. Saliva pooled in her mouth; her hunger made her feel a little friendlier towards him.
"That smells wonderful."
"Thanks," he replied, keeping his attention on the cooking. It wasn't long before he slid a plate in front of her. Biscuits and gravy never looked so good, but she had never been this hungry.
Greedily she dug her fork in and took a bite of her breakfast. The biscuits seemed to just melt in her mouth. "Thank you for breakfast, Mr. Waverly."
Vincent smiled, watching her eat. "Call me Vincent. If we are going to be partners, we may as well become friends."
"Partners? I think you, are mistaken. I am not looking for a partner. I just want to sell my share of the claim and get out of here."
"Honey, you aren't selling your share unless you sell my share too."
"Then I will buy you out so I can sell. How much do you want?"
His gaze raked her over, suggesting his price would mean more than money. "You couldn't afford my price. You best just get used to the idea that we will be working together, and you will continue to work as long as you want to eat around here." He cocked his head slightly, "You ever worked panning for gold before?"
"No, but how hard can it be?"
Vincent didn't answer her question, and the way he was looking at her ... It made her feel like a hungry wolf was watching her. It did something to the pit of her stomach that she wasn't sure that she liked.
"I'll show you how to work the mine and afterwards we can go visit your father's grave if you like."
"His grave?"
"That is, if you want to. I figure you would like to say your goodbyes."
"Sure. My goodbyes. Maybe we can schedule another time to go to the grave, but I don't want to go right now." Barbara wasn't sure she wanted to see his grave. She still felt so angry with the man that called himself her father. Hated him for what he had done, and even seeing him dead wouldn't make her feel any better about him.
"All right, if that is the way you feel about it, we will do it another time." His voice was quiet and reserved, as if he didn't want to drop the subject but knew it would be a good time to let it go.
She finished the last bit of food on her plate, breaking the awkward silence with a compliment. "I have heard that a man's stomach is the way to his heart, but I think perhaps it may be the same for a woman."
Barbara took one look at the mining equipment and gave a sigh of disgust. This wasn't the gold mine she expected. She thought she would be going inside a mine today. Instead he brought her to a spot on the river with a pile of shovels and some wooden contraption that was half in and half out of the water. A pile of miscellaneous tools, buckets, and a few pans sat on the banks of the river.
"What is that?" She pointed to the odd machine, curling up her top lip. It looked as if it had been built from scrap bits of lumber and held together by chicken wire and a few nails for good measure. The contraption looked like it had been so used over the years that it could fall apart at any moment.
"That is how we make our living, darling. That is called a sluice, and is much faster than panning for gold by hand."
"Oh." She was a little confused how it worked, but didn't want to look stupid by asking too many questions, either. "I thought you were taking me to a mine."
"This is it, darling. You ready to get to work?"
"I guess so." She tried to sound confident, but she really wasn't so sure she was ready for this. It wasn't the first time she asked herself what she really knew about mining for gold.
"Good." He picked up a shovel and thrust it at her. She took it and watched as he showed her how the machine worked. He used the other shovel to lift dirt off the riverbank and drop it onto the machine. He did this several more times, before stopping to pick up a bucket and fill it with water. He dumped the water over the dirt and then used the handles to shake the debris. Barbara watched in amazement as the dirt sifted through. The rocks and larger debris were separated out first, then another screen got out smaller objects. The lightest material was the last to be sorted through. Vincent did this for a few minutes before finally examining what was left.
He pointed to a small flake of gold and smiled. "See that?"
"What? I don't see anything."
He shook his head and pulled a small glass vial that he had held from a string around his neck, and put the flake inside the bottle. "It may not be much, but it is gold. We are close to something here. I can feel it. This came from upstream a bit and made its way down here. We just have to find the right spot and we will be richer than you can imagine."
"Flakes of gold aren't going to make either of us rich."
"Well, then get to work and find something that will."
Barbara blew the hair out of her eyes, irritated at him once again. Of course, with him, it didn't take much to irritate her. All he had to do was to open his mouth.
She threw her frustration and energy into her work. Pacing herself to bring a steady stream of new raw material to sift through. Shovel full after shovel full of dirt she worked. They traded turns bringing up the water, also using the stream to help keep cool.
She paused, leaning against her shovel as Vincent removed his shirt, revealing his tanned chest. Proof of how many hours he spent working in the sun. Beads of sweat ran down his neck, pearling up on his chest. His chest was completely free of hair, unlike what she expected to see on a man, and she found him fascinating.
Lord, he shouldn't have taken off his shirt. Now as he worked, she could gaze at each muscle as he flexed and strained. Not only that, but with so much golden skin showing she caught herself wanting to see more.
One time he caught one of her secret looks and would not look away. She felt her cheeks burn crimson when she was discovered watching him. Damn it. She did not want to be feeding his ego. The man was already too cocky for his own good.
Barbara vowed to keep her head down and ignore those steamy looks that he swept over her, and to also ignore most of his critical comments. The man was a tyrant, but she didn't want him to be able to say she wasn't pulling her own weight. This was how he paid off their credit line at the general store and taxes on their claim, and bought provisions. And this was what she had to do until she could find a way to sell her share of this stupid mine.
Vincent had told her that it didn't always pay well, but it paid enough to make a living. They were still waiting for the big payoff. After hours of working, and seeing nothing for her efforts, Barbara decided it would be a very long day.
Barbara was so exhausted that she collapsed on the bed, and felt as if she didn't want to move ever again. Every muscle in her body ached. She was too tired to do anything. She didn't want to think about cooking or cleaning, yet it was time to eat. The sun was setting outside, low on the horizon, giving very little light inside the small cabin. Vincent seemed to ignore her and allowed her to lie on the bed, starting his evening chores, lighting candles with swift strokes of a match, and doing something in the kitchen.
Pots and pans banged noisily as he worked away in the small area. Barbara imagined she should be in there helping. She should be cooking dinner for him. He had certainly done enough for her over the last day. He had been kinder to her today than she expected such a rough looking man to be.
But she was so tired. She didn't want to get up. She didn't want to eat. She certainly didn't want to cook. She didn't even want to take the time to undress, for bed.
She unlaced her shoes while lying down and dumped them on the floor, before slipping between the covers. She watched him approach her with two bowls of something that smelled good and buttered biscuits, and buried her head under the covers. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate it, she was just too tired to even eat.
"I've never had a woman so eager to go to bed with me that she skipped dinner," Vincent teased in a deep seductive voice. Her small frame was just a round lump under the quilted comforter.
"I am not going to bed with you---oh, just leave me alone." Barbara's words were muffled by the pillow.
Not too gently, he ripped the covers down off her and exposed her torso. He shoved the bowl of chili under her nose, not letting her refuse. "Eat. You need your strength."
"No." Barbara jutted out her bottom lip slightly. "I am not hungry."
"Eat," he persisted.
"Fine," she huffed, grabbing the bowl from him. He smiled at her, but kept his silence, as though not wanting to gloat in his mild victory.
She raised herself up to a sitting position, and began to eat the dinner he had made for her. The smart man had kept beans on the stove. And even though it was not her favorite dinner, it was healthy and nutritious, and quick enough that she happily didn't have to wait to go to bed.
He sat on the edge of the bed, but didn't eat his own chili. Vincent held the spoon just over the bowl, and gave Barbara a long hard stare.
"What?" she shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.
"I don't know why I didn't see this before. You look like him."
"Who?"
"Your father."
Barbara rolled her eyes at the comment. She wasn't sure if she should take the words like a compliment. His eyes held admiration and she couldn't understand why. Joseph Lane had been nothing she ever admired. He didn't deserve her admiration. Not for how he treated her family, and certainly not for how he treated her.
"He wasn't such a bad man as you seem to believe."
"I didn't say he was," she responded defensively.
"No, but you cringe every time his name is brought up."
"He was evil to have left us." It was difficult for her to talk about this subject. Even after the years of pain and heartache, she still wanted the man to have been a father for her. Still wanted him to just be there. Why should she still be feeling a clenching pressure in her chest? She wiped at her eyes, hoping the tears that threatened would not come.
"I don't think he even knew about you until you were older."
"What do you mean?" she asked. "He had to have lied about me. He knew we existed and it was his choice to walk away."
"He talked about you recently, but I don't think he knew much about you when you were little. He said something about your mother remarrying and he had to let that man be your father."
"No one could ever have replaced my father, even if they wanted to," she said, bitterly remembering her stepfather and his harsh upbringing. Barbara didn't kid herself into believing that her stepfather loved her. He put up with her because he lusted after her mother, but that was it. A father would have been welcome in her life. It was something she always felt she lacked.
Carefully Vincent set his bowl of chili on the side table next to the bed. The candle sitting there burned slowly, beads of hot wax dripping down the side as it decreased in size. "I don't know who you got your information from, but I got mine from the horse's mouth. Did you ever talk to your father?"
"No. Of course not."
"Well then, how do you know the truth? Is it possible your mother may have lied to you?"
"My mother would not have had to lie to me." Barbara took another bite of her chili, silently wondering if what he said could be true, but why would her mother lie to her? What would make her want to do such a thing? But the doubt niggled at her. Could what Vincent was saying be true? Worry knotted her stomach.
Vincent draped an arm around her shoulders, hugging her close, and she stiffened slightly, not used to such close contact from anyone, but especially a man. "It's okay for thinking of your father that way when you don't know any different, but I knew him, and he would have been proud of you."
"Do you really think so?"
He looked at her, exploring the depths of her misty blue eyes with his own. "I do think so."
He brushed her golden hair to the side of her heart-shaped face. Then as if he suddenly realized he may have overstepped that imaginary boundary between them, he hastily withdrew his hand from her.
"Thank you, Vincent." Barbara sniffled, looking down at the floor shyly. She had set down her bowl of chili next to his on the side table.
"I know there is no way for him to know you now. Though I am sure he is looking down from Heaven asking himself how he could have stayed away from his beautiful daughter who is all grown up now. But, there is something..." Vincent's eyes lit up, as if he suddenly remembered something. He got off the bed and looked underneath, moved a few boxes around before pulling out a small wooden cigar box. It was small and old, and an advertisement for Americana Cigars was peeling off the top of the box. Vincent handed her the box as if he was handing her a miniature treasure chest.
He had to be kidding.
"This was your father's and I am sure he would want you to have it," he said, handing the cigar box to her reverently.
She furrowed her brow as she opened the box curiously. "He would want me to have his cigars? I don't smoke---oh my goodness." Barbara opened the box, revealing a treasure trove of memories. Letters, some pencil sketches, and a few pictures, all the most important memories of her father's life. Letters to him and from him. She felt a fist clench around her chest as she absorbed what this meant.
This meant that even in death she could know a little more about her father. Perhaps even be at peace with his decision. It was the best gift anyone could have given her, and she would never have known this box existed if it wasn't for Vincent.
"Thank you," she whispered, but words didn't seem to be enough. She had never felt so grateful. It was probably why she had the courage to kiss him. Just a quick peck on the cheek but it was more than she had ever given any man before. Not even her father had received a kiss on the cheek. Not even her stepfather, the man she had lived with for years.
She felt her cheeks heat and turned her head down in embarrassment at what she had done so impulsively. "Sorry. I didn't mean to do---"
"Don't apologize, sugar. You can kiss me as often as you like," he said silkily.
Her cheeks went a brighter shade of red. It wouldn't happen again, she assured herself. That kiss was a one-time affair that she couldn't imagine repeating.
She snapped the cigar box shut, wishing she could only shut out her wild emotions as efficiently. She didn't need to feel grateful to Vincent, but she did. "Thank you Vincent. For everything."
Vincent left her to her box of memories, and for that she was even more grateful. It was hard enough making this kind of emotional discovery alone. With someone watching her, it would be more difficult to let the tears flow.
Every so often she looked over to the massive bed, to watch him as he slept. His big frame sprawled out comfortably, overtaking her side of the bed. His breathing was soft and regular, but he wasn't snoring. It was comforting to have him nearby. Even if he was only sleeping and couldn't be there to hug her at that moment.
Funny how, only hours ago, she thought she would be out for the night, and while still physically tired, she needed to do this for herself.
Wait a minute. Was she growing used to his comforting hugs and his warm voice that caressed her earlier? They barely knew each other, but already she found his very presence a comfort to her.
The box contained more treasure than she imagined. Her father was a packrat. He kept everything. He had written poetry to her mother. Beautiful, flowing poetry promising her the world and that they would spend eternity together.
She dug deeper in the box, looking for a clue into her father's life, and she found too many things. All of it brought a myriad of emotions to the surface of her awareness. There was a sense of joy at being able to see this part of his life, and yet a sense of loss and regret at never having known it---him---while he was alive.
So why did he leave them? Frantically she searched the box, hoping to find the answers she desperately sought. She read into the night, having to replace the candle once.
She held several letters in her hand that had been returned to sender in a lady's delicate script. They were addressed to her, Miss Barbara Lane. She imagined it was her mother who had written on the envelope, and so it was her mother who had refused him. Not the other way around.
She opened one of the envelopes just to see what he had to say to a little girl so many years ago. It was sent on her birthday, November 30, 1861. She would have been twelve years old that year.
A hand drawn card fell out of the envelope. She read the letter, almost numb to the emotions she had closed off from her life for so long.
My dearest Barbara,
Happy Birthday, darling. I wish I were there to see your face. What I would give to see how you have grown. I would give up everything to see you one more time, but we all have made choices that we regret in life. Leaving you was mine.
But let's not focus on the bad things in our lives. I want to see you do better in life than me. I hope you make better choices and ones that leave you happy in life.
I hope more than anything you have a happy childhood, too. You deserve a puppy that will follow you everywhere and play fetch, and sisters and brothers to play with, and all the things a child wants. All the things I could never give you.
Your mother keeps sending my letters back, but I want you to know one thing about me if you don't know anything else. Know I love you.
Love always,
Your Dad
Reading the letter to herself left her in a state of shock. Her mother hid her father from her. She was the one who refused to accept him. It wasn't her father who abandoned them. It was her mother, and she did it so she could marry her stepfather who was better off than Barbara's real father, Joseph Lane. It left her happy knowing her father would have been there if he could.
Moreover she felt mad that her mother had done this and kept it a secret, lied as if she would never find out.
All those bitter years wasted.
She didn't realize she was holding her breath until she let it out in a sigh. All of that frustration and anger she was holding in all those years and who was she hurting?
Only herself.
Barbara resolved to never do this again. Once was one too many times to make such bad judgments. "I am so sorry, Papa. I forgive you, and hope you can forgive me, wherever you are."
Even as exhausted as she felt, sleeping would not be easy tonight. She felt too raw. Too emotionally exposed. She blinked back tears and blew out the candle, before padding over to the large bed and slipping under the covers with her partner.
It felt odd climbing in bed with a stranger, yet nice to feel his warmth next to her, it was also more comforting than it should be to have Vincent nearby. That was why she allowed herself to snuggle into his solid body and why she didn't fight it when he placed one strong arm over her protectively in his sleep.
"Wake up, sleepyhead," Vincent said in a singsong voice.
The morning sun had just risen, bringing a bright cheeriness to the cabin. The birds were outside chirping their wake up calls. All of it accentuated the pounding in Barbara's head.
How could he be in such a good mood?
Yesterday was really hard on Barbara physically. She had never had to work so hard in her entire life. Every muscle ached, and she needed more sleep. She may have felt better if she had a full night's rest, but she had been so absorbed with those letters belonging to her father that she couldn't sleep. It was amazing how much her life could change in one day.
Changes that shook her world. Everything she believed, and knew as a basic truth in her life had been questioned. Just thinking of how her father had been robbed of a relationship with her all these years made her emotionally fatigued, made her angry. Everything her mother had taught her over the years was drawn into question. She had hated her father for the lies her mother told her.
More sleep would have made today easier, and so would coffee. Perhaps coffee would ease the pounding in her head.
Barbara mumbled incomprehensible words into her pillow. It came out like, "Mmmmph," but what she really meant was, I don't want to get up yet.
"Come on and wake up, Barbara. I let you sleep in too long already."
"Just a little longer..." Her golden hair splayed across the pillow, her slender neck exposed.
"Your coffee is getting cold."
"Coffee?"
"Yes, I have a cup for you right here."
As he sat down next to her the mattress shifted, causing her to roll into him. The skin-to-skin contact made her flesh tingle in sexual awareness. She pulled herself away as if he burned her, and she raised herself up on her elbows to try and sit up. The jolt had her looking at him through sleepy eyes. He looked far too masculine---his day-old beard growing in, made him look like an outlaw. Manly and rough, and way too sexy for her. No man should look that good this early in the morning.
He pressed the steaming cup of hot coffee into her hands, unaware of what his nearness was doing to her. Her strong, slim fingers gripped the black mug, taking it from his much larger hands.
Her mouth kissed the edge of the coffee cup and she sipped it slowly, welcoming the morning caffeine. Some people valued their cigarettes, and others lived by their whiskey or their alcohol. Barbara's vice had always been coffee. She firmly believed that coffee had to be a gift from the gods.
"Thank you."
He cocked one eyebrow up at her curiously, "So you do know how to behave?"
"Of course, I know how to behave and I have manners, too. Which is more than I can say for some men around here."
"And what exactly are you implying, Miss Lane?"
"Exactly what I said. Do gentlemen tackle ladies from behind?" She waited for him to respond, and when he didn't she carried on. "No they don't, Mr. Waverly. They also don't force their lady friends to sleep with them."
"I have never had to force a lady to sleep with me."
"It's either sleep with you or sleep on the floor. That's forcing me to sleep with you."
He chuckled softly, the sound caressed her like a lover's touch. "We were not thinking about the same thing, darling. If you wanted more in bed, you would have to ask me to take you."
"I will never ask you to take me as a lover, you cad."
"No. You are right. Asking would not be enough, you will have to beg sweetly."
She let out a breath indignantly. "That is never going to happen, Mr. Waverly."
"Never?"
"Never," she replied firmly.
"Well in that case, I may have to take that as a challenge."
"It would be a challenge you lose!" she hissed.
"I am not a man to back down from a challenge, darling, and especially not one so tempting to win."
Hearing her beg for him to take her would be music to his ears. Her golden hair spilled over her shoulders and he ran his fingers through it, letting the strands slip back down to her skin. Having her curves beneath him as she submitted to him, would be a pleasure he wasn't sure he could wait for. After all, he was giving up a lot to play this game with her.
He wouldn't be able to visit his favorite stop this trip to town because she was joining him.
The ladies at the whorehouse would probably be disappointed, but he could make it up to them on his next trip, he thought with a rueful smile.
"I saddled up the horses and have them ready to go. You finally ready, darling?" He announced his entrance with a knock and a smile.
"Of course, but I am not your darling." Barbara snapped the small-mirrored case shut that she used to apply her make up, and stuck it in her purse. It was a simple drawstring purse that she could hang from her wrist, but it matched the outfit and she wanted to make a good impression on the townsfolk here. You had only one chance to make a first impression.
He grinned mischievously and gave a low whistle, running his gaze over her generous curves. Her lacy dress had an open bodice that pushed her breasts up, making them appear even more round and full. "Well, you certainly clean up nice, sweetheart."
"You clean up pretty good yourself, even if you do insist on calling me those pesky little nicknames," she grudgingly admitted. She didn't need to get on familiar terms with him. It did something to her insides when he talked to her that way. Using those irritating endearing nicknames on her, it was something that complicated how she felt about him and she didn't need those kinds of feelings for him. As it was, she had to fight butterflies in her stomach when he spoke with her. But was it any wonder? He was a devilishly handsome man, roughened by the western frontier. His golden skin should be rough from the harsh environment, but she knew first hand that he was soft and warm, and those calloused fingers held the gentlest of touches. His chin was smooth after his morning shave, his cologne tickled her nose as she walked by him, a scent she had smelled before, but lighter. Today it was clean and fresh as if he had just bathed.
Wait a minute. His hair was wet and clean, swept to the side freshly combed. He had a bath? When did he have the opportunity to bathe? Barbara had looked for a tub large enough to take a bath and still had not found one in her search of the cabin.
"I didn't know you had a washtub."
"We don't, darling. I used the river this morning. It's cold, but it's a good way to wake up in the morning. You are welcome to come with me one morning if you would like." There was something very sexual about the way he was looking at her just then. A tingling sensation tightened in her chest and stretched clear to her loins.
He didn't need to know what he did to her on a regular basis. She clenched her teeth and snapped at him, "In your dreams, Vincent."
"Just being neighborly, darling. It's always nice to have someone to scrub those hard to reach places." He grinned at her playfully, a dimple forming in his smile. "I wouldn't mind a little help with a bath now and then."
"You are a grown man, and you certainly don't need any help in the bath. Especially from me."
"It's true, I don't need any help, but it makes bath time a lot more fun to have company." His expression turned wolf-like and hungry as thought he imagined her next to him in the cool waters. Her creamy skin naked to his touch, covered in soapsuds.
She pretended not to understand his look and, turning on her heel, she walked by him and left to go outside and see which horse she would be riding. "I can't swim, so I certainly won't be joining you in any rivers anytime soon. I would appreciate having a bath tub here in the house, so I don't have to worry about drowning." The concern was apparent in her voice as she made her way out the door.
"If it would make you happy, consider it done," he said, shutting the door behind them.
She had not complained for the week they had been together, and he imagined a lady such as herself wasn't used to roughing it. He wasn't sure why he had this tender desire to take care of her needs and protect her, but where Barbara Lane was concerned, she had invaded more than his house.
He wasn't entirely sure how much longer he could hold off this strong pull of desire for her. Or how long he would be able to stay off her side of the bed.
It may be weeks, it may be months, but he knew he would bed her one day soon. She wouldn't be able to hold out forever, and he was not as much of a gentleman as he should be. Perhaps if he went to visit the saloon in town, one of the women upstairs could make some of these urges go away. Since Barbara had come into his home, everything had been chaotic, and it seemed like he was constantly walking around hard as steel.
He blamed it on her far too generous chest. He always had been a breast man, and he imagined playing with them, letting those creamy orbs spring free of her restricting clothes. He would play with her nipples until they hardened for him into firm, round peaks, and take them into his mouth. And Miss Lane, who was always a lady, would be biting her lip to suppress the urge to scream as she came in his hands, shuddering under his touch.
There he went again. His cock went hard as nails thinking of her.
It was getting damn uncomfortable.
His denim pants hugged his thighs, and if she knew what to look for she would see the front of his pants tenting over his hard cock, straining against the seam of his britches.
Good thing she was fairly innocent.
He smiled to himself. Her innocence was a small flaw, which Vincent planned to correct. All in good time.
"I hope you don't mind if I go take a walk by myself. I would like to look at the town a little more." Hopefully there would be some interest in half of a gold mine somewhere in this town, she thought darkly.
His dark brown eyes narrowed speculatively. "I think you may need some guidance in case you have any trouble."
"Nonsense. Who would give me trouble? It's not as if I am wandering into some dark alleyways, looking for thugs, Mr. Waverly. I am going to go do a little window shopping, and I am sure a man like yourself would only get bored."
"I think I must insist, darling. I can't leave you to wander the streets without a chaperone. It would be a disappointment to lose my partner just days after I learn I have one." His features hardened and his body stiffened, preparing for a fight that he wasn't about to lose.
Barbara wasn't prepared to have him follow her around like a puppy this whole trip. She needed time alone if she wanted to try and sell off her share of the mine, or even find a buyer. Having Vincent follow her everywhere would ruin her plans. "Honestly, Mr. Waverly, I won't be wandering the streets alone. I just wanted to shop in the dress shop and if I was to get fitted, I would appreciate a little privacy."
His stance relaxed, and his voice was calmer. He gave her a wink, knowing it would infuriate her. "You sure? I could offer a lot of good advice for a fitting. I think we could find a dress that would show off your features quite nicely and maybe even improve a few."
"Ooooh! You know better than that. I can't have a man there. What will people think? You know what they will think. They will think that I am your mistress, that's what!" Her cheeks grew hot, thinking about her mother and how she was ostracized from good society for having a child out of wedlock. Barbara didn't want to be shunned, and certainly not for something she didn't do.
He came unbearably close, to within inches of her, and a devilish look entered his eyes as he touched her golden hair and let it spill back onto her shoulders. "Let them say whatever they want." He tilted her head up, his thumb caressing her cheek, and she looked at him, aching for his kiss. His lips were so close and he was so close, she could feel his body heat with the close contact. Her own skin was on fire. "We are the only ones who know the truth. Right, sweetheart?"
Her eyes widened in alarm at his words. She could never allow herself to become his lover, and what had she almost done? She felt like throwing herself at him with just the briefest of touches. Roughly, she thrust him away from her, and said, "There is nothing between us and never will be, Mr. Waverly."
He retreated, stepping away from her, making his way towards the saloon, laughing to himself. He yelled out to her as he was leaving, "Now what did I tell you about saying never? Meet me at the saloon when you are done, darling."
Barbara growled something unintelligible. That man rankled her nerves, irritating her with every other word. He was cocky and arrogant, so sure that she was attracted to him, that Barbara found she had a hard time denying it. She just wasn't sure how much longer she could last in such close proximity to Vincent. When he gave her invitations for private moments such as a bath together or to join him on his side of the bed, she was tempted to do it, and she knew better.
A man like him wasn't going to settle down and marry.
A man like him was dangerous to a woman like her.
It would invite disaster and she vowed she would not follow the same path as her mother. She would not give up everything in the name of love. She would not give up her body and her life for some man that had no intention of taking care of her or her child if there ever was one.
All the more reason to make sure a child was never an issue. She could never sleep with that man.
Never.
She watched him disappear into the saloon, still fuming. Then turned and walked briskly down the dirt road, trying to decide in which place to start first.
The town was not very big and did not have a large selection of places she could make enquiries about her mining claim. Wooden buildings lined the street, horses tied to fence posts here and there. Very few people were on the street today, most were probably attending to their business. There were most of the common businesses you would see in a town this size, a horseshoe farrier, general store, bank, saloon, jail, church, and hotel.
Barbara walked to the building closest to her, which happened to be the sheriff's office and also the jail. She assumed that the jail was the addition to the side of the only stone building that she had seen in the small town.
The wooden door creaked as she opened it. There was a large empty desk covered by papers and the room was not too large, but surprisingly devoid of people. She called out, hoping to hear someone was inside. "Hello?"
A man had been reclining on a chair, his legs kicked up on the desk. His hat tipped low over his eyes, he grumbled a little as if he was just waking up. Removing his hat, he looked around for who had interrupted his afternoon nap. He was cheerful as he spoke, despite the rough burr of his voice. "Howdy ma'am."
"Howdy," she answered, nervously fingering her dress.
Even in the middle of the day, the sheriff's office was dismal and darker than it should be. Downright depressing. If it was up to Barbara, she would have poured a coat of paint on the inside and the outside of the building. But it wasn't her decision to make, nor her place.
"I am new to the area, Sheriff, and just thought I would stop in and say hello."
"Well it's a privilege to have such a pretty lady stop by." Barbara blushed at his kind words. "What's your name?"
"Barbara Lane."
"You staying with family?"
"Not exactly. My father died recently and I inherited his mining claim. So I am staying with his partner, Vincent Waverly."
"Ah, good man. With him looking out after you, you shouldn't have any trouble round these parts, but if you ever need any help, you can be sure to find me. I am the only law 'round these parts and keep the order and the peace. Not that we have too much trouble, most of the people are good people. We have a few ranchers, and a few cowboys, but most of the people are miners. It's not like we have too many outlaws to deal with. Just a few claim jumpers now and then."
Claim jumpers? Barbara hoped she never had to deal with claim jumpers. If anyone ever wanted her mine, they could just have it. They would not have to take it at gunpoint. "Well, that makes me feel at ease. But I was not here to talk to you about that kind of business ... I was actually here to see if you knew anyone who might be interested in a mining claim."
"A mining claim? You don't mean old Buster's mining claim, do you? He was one of the poorest miners around. He hasn't had a strike for years. No offense, ma'am, but I think you won't be able to give that claim away. Anyone can go register a mining claim and it's not expensive to go make one of their own. Fact is, unless you do make some kind of a gold strike, I don't think you will be able to sell it to anyone."
Barbara's hopes fell to pieces, and she could feel her stomach clench in frustration. She wouldn't be able to give this claim away? She would never be able to get out of this situation. Once again she mentally cursed her father for putting her in his will. Then instantly she felt a little guilty. It wasn't her father's fault she was in this mess. She was the one who made this decision to come all the way out to California. "Well, thank you for your time, Sheriff. You have been very helpful."
"No problem at all, ma'am." Seeing she was on her way out, he stood up and walked her to the door, holding it open for her as any gentleman would.
Now that she had talked to the sheriff, Barbara almost gave up hope on selling the useless piece of paper she owned. She was going to be stuck with that mining claim and Vincent for the rest of her life. Somehow the thought of being stuck with Vincent didn't upset her as much as it should. She could almost imagine them slipping into some sort of happy routine, filled with normal everyday events, sharing them as any couple would share their life.
It would be far too easy to make believe they were married and possibly slip into becoming his lover as well.
God, what was she thinking? She could never become his lover, or she would only be his mistress.
Oh, well.
She should probably spend some time looking at dresses, even if she couldn't afford the extravagance, so she could be truthful when she said she left to look at dresses today. She should at least know the latest style or be able to tell him what she looked at if he questioned her. So she made her way to the dressmaker shop first.
The large glass window displayed the latest styles from back East. Three female mannequins were lined up in dresses with sleek lines and full skirts, all of them modest, but there was one that caught Barbara's eye. The creamy material was a mixture of satin and lace. It was the most beautiful wedding dress that Barbara had ever seen. Pearl buttons made a neat row lining the back of the dress. It was form fitting around the chest and down to the waist, but the skirts were full falling to the floor.
It was not as if she was looking for a wedding dress, but she had an urge to go in and look at it. It looked like it could fit, which was unusual to find. With her large chest size, it had always been difficult shopping for clothes. Even the simplest of garments would have to be ordered too large or custom fitted. Her mother had helped her to make many of her clothes, since cost was always an issue.
Perhaps in the future, she would have the opportunity to buy it. One day Barbara would get married and she hoped to be married in something as beautiful as this dress. It would look as if made just for her.
She entered the small shop, the door clanged shut behind her, and the bell rang as she entered. She could hear the shopkeeper hurry to the front of the store to help her customer. Barbara wasn't in a hurry. She walked through racks of material and racks of men and women's clothing to see the chiffon creation in the window that had caught her eye.
Barbara lifted the tag that hung from the dress, examining the price tag. She bit her lip in consternation, a frown wrinkling her smooth forehead. Just as she had thought, the dress was too expensive for her. At least for now.
"May I help you?" A sugary sweet voice came from behind her.
Barbara turned around to find the shopkeeper there staring at her. She was a round woman, much shorter than Barbara, but seemingly friendly.
"Thank you, I am new to the town and just thought I would look at your dresses."
"Oh, really? What brings you to our little town?"
"Nothing much---just work."
The woman's gaze turned speculative. "There's not a certain man in your life to want a wedding dress?"
"Not really."
"So what you need is a dress to work in?"
"Well I don't really need a dress at the moment, but I suppose..." It wouldn't hurt to find something more durable, but Barbara had been thinking of using men's clothes more than buying another dress. Vincent's denim pants seemed to hold up well to the everyday wear.
"Oh, my. I have just the thing for you, miss. We get a lot of women here that come for dresses for their work. We have quite a selection." The little woman made her way to the back of the shop, opening a door to another room that was full of some of the brightest clothing that Barbara had ever seen. Feathered boas and fancy hats, exotic feathers and sequined dresses, lined the walls. Almost every dress was cut low and revealing, with Barbara's bust line she would be showing far more skin than made her comfortable.
But fitting into the dresses wouldn't be a problem, she knew as she looked around the room her mouth, still agape in her shock. She had just been taken into the back room of the dress shop and the shopkeeper had mistaken her for a woman of ... oh, God.
Barbara's face was bright red as she hissed out, "I don't know what you think I do for a living, but I am no whore."
"Oh, I am sorry." The woman's face reddened after Barbara laid into her. Which made Barbara feel apologetic for a moment. "But I thought that was what you meant when you said you came to town for work. Many ladies travel through here and it is the only real job in town for a lady such as yourself."
"A lady such as myself?" Barbara was indignant with outrage at the remark. She was trying to prevent being thought of as a harlot, or a mistress. She did her best to maintain a decent reputation, counting on it if she wanted to marry for love, but people had always made assumptions about her just because of the size of her breasts.
"With your, umm ... qualities. I am sure you would have a natural talent for it," she said, while looking at Barbara's breasts. "And I hear it pays very well, especially with a woman with those kinds of assets."
Barbara's hands leapt to cover her breasts self-consciously.
"You shouldn't be covering those up, you should be showing them off, dear."
"Why, I never!" Barbara had people treat her differently all her life and she wasn't about to take being talked down to by a stranger. She turned around, walking straight for the door, letting the bell ring loudly as she slammed the door shut. "Thank you, but no thank you."
Well that was a waste of time, she thought darkly.
Vincent looked at the cards he was just dealt, taking a moment to think whether he wanted to take any more cards. Blackjack wasn't usually his choice of game, but it was what the dealer was playing so he had joined in. He had an ace and a three of hearts. It wasn't a good number to stay at, and he wasn't sure what the dealer had. The girl on his lap wrapped her hands around his neck, snuggling into him. It was definitely a distraction to have Annie sitting on his lap, doing everything she could to get him to drop out of the game.
"Do me a favor, get me another drink," he said to Annie. She was the best dressed woman in the saloon, her expensive sequined outfit caught the waning light and every cowboy's eye, despite her aging face. She was the proprietor of the saloon, but she made her real money on the beds she rented by the hour upstairs. After working out on the frontier for months at a time, men came here seeking a good time and a little fun.
Annie posed for him, pushing her breasts further out, but removed herself from his lap. Annie was his regular stop here at the saloon for the last three years. She had been trying to get him to marry her for the last two, but neither of them would be happy. She wanted different things in life. Annie loved the attention she got from the other men and had no intention on ever giving it up for any man she saw regularly, not even her husband. "Sure thing, sugar."
"Hit me again, Jim," he said, blowing out the smoke of the cigar. The dealer gave him one more card, and he picked it up off the table, adding it to the others in his hand, fanning them slightly.
Vincent looked back at the other players at the table. It was a harder crowd than he usually played with. One of the men played with his Winchester handgun at his belt, fingering the ivory handle as one might caress a lover. It made Vincent a little nervous, but it was meant to make him unsteady. He also didn't take well to threats. Even if they were silent.
The dealer flipped his cards over, sharing his hand. His combined hand was a seventeen, a good hand for anyone to beat. The rough-looking man named Clyde narrowed his shifty eyes on Vincent. The man to his left went over twenty-one and he was out. The man on his other side showed his hand at fifteen, and Vincent couldn't help the smile that played his lips when he flipped over his cards. Nineteen.
The dealer paid him, and began to deal another hand.
Vincent held out his hand to stop the dealer. He knew better to stop while his luck held, "Not this time, friend. I think I'm about done for now."
He got up and walked over to the bar to meet Kitty and Annie. He had sampled almost every woman here, and Kitty was a tasty treat as well. Not that he really should be playing, with Barbara due back any time now. Of course, if she were in the middle of a fitting, it would be a little while before she got back. He might have several hours yet.
A man in the corner was playing the piano energetically, the music filling the room with happy sounds. Girls worked the room, sparking conversations with any man who seemed like he might need a willing partner for the evening. Like any hunter, they used the right equipment for their prey, dressed in revealing dresses hiked up to their knees. Ostrich feathers perched in their coiled hair, and the familiar perfume of a whorehouse was strong enough to cover the lingering smell of sex on their bodies.
It was a perfect place for men to spend all that extra gold they made, and men lined up to hand it over. The girls here had a reputation for being some of the best in the business, and Annie always kept her customers happy.
He met Annie at the bar and she smiled, keenly aware of his scrutiny. He took the glass of whiskey from her outstretched hand and put out his cigar on a dish sitting on the highly polished wood.
"You know, sexy, I hope you will have time to come up to my room later. I have missed you lately." She cooed, basking in the confidence of her sensual power. "Kitty even volunteered to join us if you want. And I know how much you liked the last time she joined us. She couldn't wait to do it again."
"Really?" The thought had crossed his mind that he could finally alleviate some of this never ending sexual tension he had to endure around Barbara lately. Maybe if he had some kind of sexual outlet he could get rid of his stiff third leg. For once.
Kitty was similar to Barbara with her sleek blonde hair. She had much smaller breasts, but he could almost imagine it was Barbara. If he just closed his eyes, he could picture Barbara beneath him instead of Kitty.
Damn. What had the woman done to him? Bewitched him? He was standing in front of not one, but two beautiful women offering their professional services on the house, and all he could think of was Barbara.
She had bewitched him.
There was no doubt in his mind, and what better way for a man to forget a woman, than with another woman?
He arched one brow suggestively, leaning on one arm against the bar. "It would be my pleasure to escort you ladies off to bed."
Barbara looked around the smoke-filled saloon, trying to locate her escort. She was surprised she would have to look for him at all. She expected to see him as soon as she peered into the bar, not have to go up to every rough looking cowboy she saw. Most of the ladies in here were working women dressed in the same outrageous and revealing dresses the shopkeeper had tried to sell her. Sensual and exotic, the materials varied from velvet to satin, but every one of the dresses was beautiful.
All of the women looked at Barbara skeptically, as if she was competition. Well, they could think it all they wanted. Just so long as they didn't say it. She decided to approach a gentleman to ask her question instead of one of the ladies. She picked the man who scared her the least, because some of the men were intimidating. She moved to a skinny man who wore a plain suit and glasses perched on the tip of his nose. He smiled graciously at her, welcoming her.
"I am here to find Vincent Waverly, do you happen to know where I can find him?" Not that she was in any particular hurry to meet up with her partner. His presence unnerved her, and set her on fire, and after meeting up with the locals, she realized just how stuck with him she was.
"I think he's not wanting to be disturbed right now, being as he has an appointment with a lady right now."
"A lady?" She lit up furiously, letting out a frustrated breath.
"Actually there were two of them." The man grinned.
"Two women?" Her rage was white hot. "How could he? He knew I was supposed to meet him here. That man is irritating. Now what am I supposed to do? He was supposed to escort me home."
"Well I hate seeing a lady in distress. If it's a problem, I'd be happy to escort you home, ma'am." He tipped his hat to her.
Barbara wanted more than a ride home, she wanted a showdown with Vincent. How dare he chastise her for running off by herself and then schedule himself a little rendezvous with his lovers?
The man had no class, he could have done this little rendezvous on a day when she wasn't around. On a day when she would never find out, but now all she could see was red, especially as she visualized him in bed with two naked women hanging on his arms.
She puffed out her chest, keeping the smile plastered to her face as she gritted out, "No thank you, I still have an appointment to join Vincent." She turned on her heel and took the stairs two by two, pulling her dress up off the floor so she wouldn't trip over it.
Vincent lay down on the bed after kicking off his boots. Locking his arms behind his head, he propped himself up to watch the girls disrobe. It was all part of the show. Not all of the men got this kind of special attention, but being one of Annie's favorites certainly paid off. Annie and he had agreed that it would never work permanently, but it was fun to play together.
Annie closed the door and helped the younger woman to disrobe. The scarlet dress dropped to the floor, revealing matching lingerie, a flat stomach, perky round breasts, and black stockings that hooked neatly to a garter belt. In one fluid motion, the corset was unhooked and her breasts freed. Her pink nipples were in sharp contrast to her creamy flesh.
She was no innocent virgin and she welcomed him with open arms. Slipping her pantaloons down around her ankles, she was now naked.
"I couldn't wait until it was playtime again, Vincent. It's been weeks since you came out to play," Kitty purred.
Vincent licked his lips in anticipation, he pulsed beneath his pants. His voice was low and rough, "I never turn down an invitation to play."
"All the other men today were just a warm up for you, Vince." She posed for him, angling her hips and thrusting her breasts forward as she helped unbutton Annie's dress. It slipped to a pile on the floor, and Annie stepped out of it. Now only in her underwear, Annie was ready to join in on the fun, too.
"Good girl, now stop teasing me and come here, Kitty."
Kitty sashayed her hips, striding over to the bed. "You know I am not one to tease," she crawled onto the bed, covering the top of Vince's body with her own, while beginning to unbutton his shirt. She dropped kisses on his bare chest, tickled by the mass of masculine hair there. He wrapped his fingers in her hair as she inched lower and finally began to unbutton his pants. His cock sprang free of the confines of his denims, and she kissed the tip. He groaned at the pure ecstasy of her tongue working over him. She moaned, fully engrossed in wrapping her fingers around his dick as she slipped the hard shaft into her mouth.
Lord, she was a talented woman for someone so young, and her tongue caressed his cock like an experienced woman, sucking and licking him clean. Her fingers squeezed the base of him as she worked methodically towards making him come. If he wasn't careful, he would come too soon. It wasn't everyday he had such an erotic treat. Two women to satisfy his needs.
For one moment he had a guilty twinge as he thought of Barbara, then he pushed it aside as Annie joined them on the bed.
A man had needs and Barbara wasn't about to satisfy his. She wasn't his woman and they had not agreed to have any kind of relationship. There was nothing between him and Barbara to feel guilty about.
Annie swept across his chest with fiery strokes of her tongue, kissing him everywhere she could reach. Finally he captured her lips in his in a passionate kiss, delving into her mouth with his tongue. He felt the pressure increase in his loins, as Kitty's soft wet mouth encased his cock.
"Careful, Kitty, or I won't be able to play for long," he breathed against Annie's lips. Vince reached into Annie's corset and brought out her titties to play with. Annie had the best tits. They were full, hung low with the weight and age of them, but they were beautiful. They were more than you could hold in one hand, and perfect for a man like Vince who always had been a breast man. He wasn't attracted to a woman at first for her legs or even her face, but usually that first attraction was because of the size of her tits, and he couldn't imagine settling down with just one set of breasts anytime soon. It was too much fun playing with all the girls' tits.
Kitty's tinkling laughter tickled his cock as she removed her lips from him. "Well, playing with you is so much fun. I want to wear you out. Can you imagine what the girls would say if I said I wore out the legendary Vincent Waverly?" He felt her change positions to kneel over the top of him, grabbing his dick in one hand, she placed it at her wet entrance and slid onto him, beginning to ride him. Slow and steady she rocked on top of him.
He chuckled. "Well, the record is hard to break, it's two days and I don't have that kind of time today. I really will have to get going soon. I will be meeting a girl in a couple of hours."
"I will just have to make do then." She pouted, pursing her lips together in an O.
"She could always come up and join us, dear."
"I am afraid she isn't that kind of lady, Annie."
"Oh, she is one of those kinds of girls? You surprise me, Vince, I thought you would pick someone a lot more fun to play with." Annie lifted her chin up, as though annoyed that he was mentioning any other women in her presence.
"She is still very innocent, Annie, and I am not sure she will ever know life's pleasure like we do. Who knows, we may never be lovers for just that reason." Tired of explaining Barbara's unusual relationship with him, he brought Annie's nipple into his mouth, laving it with his tongue and just barely grazing it with his teeth. He sucked hard, her nipple puckered under his attention, and she moaned out in pleasure. He grabbed her ass, pulling her closer. Slipping a finger under the edge of her garters, he found her clit, twisting it between his fingers.
Annie arched in his hands, moaning sharply. A slick wetness gathered between her thighs with his caress. Already the room began to smell of the musky scent of sex.
"We could teach her, if you wanted us to." Annie bit at her bottom lip, attempting to hold back from squirming under his practiced hands.
"I don't know if that would be such a good idea, Annie."
"But we know how much you like it when you get to have both of us in your bed. Won't you miss us?"
"I never said I was going to give this up, I just have to meet with her and take her home. It's not like I am marrying the girl or anything."
"Good choice, Vince. I would hate for you to miss out on your private sessions."
"Me, too. You know what a turn on it is to see you girls kiss. I can't imagine ever settling down with just one woman. It would be a tough choice to have to make."
"Vincent settle down? Not with all the girls here to choose from." Annie straddled him, turning her back on him so she could give her favorite customer a show he craved. Annie wrapped her arms around Kitty's neck and pulled the girl close to her, pushing up against her, breast to breast. "Come here, and let's give Vince something to talk about when he leaves here."
Kitty wrapped her arms around Annie, scratching her back, while still impaled on Vince. Her body rose and fell, craving Annie's touch and kiss. She moaned as her nipples puckered up against Annie's chest.
"Christ, you girls are killing me." Vincent moaned out, moving his hips in unison to Kitty. He slipped his hand under Annie to finger her silky wet hole, and rubbed her clit frantically. He wanted to feel her come on top of him, at the same time as he and Kitty came. He felt an incredible amount of pressure building in his groin and his muscles stiffened momentarily when he felt Kitty shudder on top of him as she came. Her muscles clenched around him and spasmed.
He knew he was being used for his body at this moment, but what a way to be used. He couldn't imagine ever turning this down for anyone. Not even the sweet and innocent Barbara Lane, whom he felt like protecting and seducing ever since she let herself into his house.
He closed his eyes, releasing himself into Kitty, his cock spurting his seed deep inside of her wet pussy. His pulse was racing even after he came, and she ground down against him, as though relishing the feeling of his cock still within her body.
Annie slapped his hip, knowing all too well what it meant to feel him come under her. She would have to wait her turn until he could get hard again. She twisted around to grin back at him. "Naughty boy, you forgot to play with me."
"You know what it does to me when I see you girls go at it. I play fair. Everyone gets a turn with me, Annie." He smiled back, nearly exhausted but already wanting to go again, hardening slightly under the gyrations of Kitty's hips. This kind of attention was going to kill him, but if he was going to die, he would die a happy man. "How about you ladies assume the position where I take care of you both?"
Kitty purred and extracted herself from him, standing up alongside the bed. Annie joined her, standing behind the younger woman. Kitty asked, "Where do you want me, sugar?"
"Kneel on the floor for me, on all fours."
Kitty kneeled down, and Annie removed her remaining lingerie completely, following into the kneeling position on top of Kitty's body. Annie's breasts rubbed up against Kitty's back, and she pinched Kitty's nipples.
Vincent looked hungrily at the two girls who were exposed so prettily for him. Their pink pussies lined up for him to take his pleasure, and he could take his choice of whomever and whichever way he wanted to take his pleasure first.
What more could a man ask for?
Vincent stood and shed his remaining clothes. He preferred the feel of flesh against flesh. He patted Annie on the ass---her flesh was a creamy white and unblemished. With a softer touch he brushed up the girls' thighs, not touching the sensitized flesh, just teasing their exposed parts.
He spanked Annie on the ass, and her flesh grew pink and hot to the touch. "Are you ladies gonna behave for me?"
"Not if I can help it," Annie snickered.
"Then I guess I will have to use a little discipline, won't I?"
"Please do me!" Kitty begged charmingly.
"Wait your turn!" he told Kitty, while pinching her clit just a little. She responded with a moan and a gyration to her hips, which moved Annie's hips with her.
He slipped a finger into Kitty's wet pussy, his thumb rubbing her clit. At the same time he slid two fingers along Annie's waiting rosy bud, stretching her open. He slipped into Kitty with such ease, she was wet and ready for him, accepting all of him. He worked Annie's clit in time with his thrusts into Kitty. With each thrust he petted Annie, working her into a frenzy.
Both girls moaned out their pleasure. Annie stroked Kitty's breasts, teasing the nipples into hard nubs.
"I'm coming, Vince," Kitty moaned, her eyes closed in ecstasy. "Please just give it to me."
He sped up his timing, each time pressing a little deeper, a little harder into her womb, until she was on the edge of heaven. Then he pushed her over, just playing with her clit as he slammed into her. He felt Kitty shudder under him with her climax. He savored the feel of her muscles climaxing around him, then he pulled out so he could start on Annie.
He had stretched Annie open to hold two fingers and she was nearly ready for him. He held his cock, still wet with Kitty's juices, at her rosy entrance, and pushed against her resistant flesh. She was so tight and so hot inside. Her muscles clenched tightly around him as he pushed inside of her.
"Just a little farther," he whispered, nearly breathless. His cock was in halfway and he pulled out, then pushed back into her even further than before. Annie arched her back, allowing him even better access. "You always did have the sweetest ass."
"The trick is to relax, baby. Most girls don't get it" Annie purred.
He thrust into her, pounding her flesh, his balls slapping against Kitty. He played with Kitty a little, bringing her quickly to an excited state once again. "Most girls can't take all of me."
"That's why you will always come back to me," Annie said smugly.
Vincent groaned. He knew he was hooked on Annie and her girls, he just didn't like being told he was pussy whipped. Her arrogance was why he stopped seeing her so regularly.
He pushed himself harder, giving Annie a little spank. He grew harder inside of her, and suddenly he stiffened as he came, spurting his juices into her flesh.
"That's it, baby. Do me just like that," Annie screamed out. Annie came hard under his touch, her body spasming around his cock. Kitty came again for the second time under his attentive hands. He pulled out of Annie completely and watched as her muscles tightened, spilling out her juices down her gleaming wet pussy and onto Kitty's backside.
Life is good, he thought to himself.
Whoever said three was a crowd had never come to Annie's place.
Barbara had tried three of the doors down the narrow hallway upstairs. Two of the rooms had couples inside that were in the middle of intimate relations. She slammed the doors shut with a quick apology each time, her cheeks heating with embarrassment. If she wasn't so mad at Vincent right now, she would consider giving up, but she was downright angry. He was supposed to wait for her. What was she supposed to be doing while he was busy? Twiddling her thumbs? Knitting him a sweater?
The man was impossible.
He could have waited. She shouldn't be here in the middle of a brothel right now---and it was his fault she was here. If she had known that Annie's Saloon was a brothel---she never would have agreed to come meet him here.
Barbara paused outside the door at the end of the hall. It could be the right door, or she could get another couple exposed. Images in her mind she could never forget---a lady's naked legs poised high in the air, a man grunting into her, his naked back exposed to Barbara. It infuriated her. It embarrassed her, and yet ... curiously, it aroused her. Her own lingerie had grown slightly damp as she imagined what it would be like to have a man between her legs. Not just any man, but it was Vincent that she imagined there, filling her up from the inside out, assuaging that needy ache.
Barbara let out a determined sigh, her hand poised on the doorknob. She opened it wide, preparing herself mentally for what she might find inside.
Nothing could have prepared her for what she found.
Not one, but two women were in bed with Vincent. Their hair splayed about them and their naked breasts displayed freely, the sheets fell just below their breasts, exposing more flesh than any decent woman should.
"You're late." Barbara accused Vincent, glaring at the sinful scene in front of her.
Vincent met her with laughter in his chocolate eyes, not apologetic in the slightest. "Sorry, I got tied up. Did you want to join us?"
Barbara let out a shriek, and crossed her arms defensively over her chest. "No---I am not going to join you!"
"The offer is open anytime you want to," he said in that cocky voice that never failed to turn her legs weak.
Barbara wanted to attack him physically at that moment. Seeing him wrapped up in the arms of two other women was harder than she expected, but she was a lady. So instead of doing as she desired---attacking him and clawing at his face---she grabbed her skirts and said, "Go to hell, Vincent," just before she slammed the door shut.
Barbara kept her arms tightly folded over her chest, her lips pursed shut in silence on the ride home. Vincent let her pout for the first hour, then he tried to break the silence. "It's not like I have any excuse for what I did, but a man has needs."
She glared at him silently.
"Are you going to take care of those needs, darling?"
Silence met his hard, icy stare.
"I didn't think so."
Barbara turned away, rolling her eyes. "You could have waited until I was not with you to take care of your so-called needs."
"Maybe. But it's already in the past. Are you going to hold it over me forever?" He let out an audible sigh, "So what have you been doing all day?"
"Me?"
She remembered the day's events with a twinge of guilt. She had tried to talk to people about selling her portion of the mining claim, but that was when she realized how stuck she was. He would be in her life as long as she was stuck with that gold mine.
"I went to that dress shop and it was terrible. I don't want to talk about it."
"Why? Didn't they have any dresses you liked?"
"Actually, yes, but the only ones they wanted to sell me were the ones in the back," she huffed.
"What was wrong with those dresses?" he asked.
A fiery blush warmed her cheeks, and she bit her lip, not sure how she could say the words. "They were the ones for the whores that work at Annie's place. The lady said I looked like I worked there."
Vincent covered his smile with his fist. "She really tried to sell you one of the dresses in the back? Well, you should have taken her up on the offer, darling. It would have been perfect for a mistress."
"For the last time, I will never be your mistress!" Barbara hissed out. She turned her back on him, crossing her arms, determined to be silent for the rest of the trip back to the house.
The afternoon sun was at its highest, beating down on the couple as they worked the land, sifting the dirt for its hidden treasures. Vincent noted Barbara's waning energy and the way her step had slowed. She was exhausted, and the afternoon heat wasn't helping. "Let's take a break and go sit under the trees for a bit."
She shrugged her shoulders, but followed to sit next to him on a log. He wasn't the only one sweating; she raised her hand to wipe away the sweat at her brow.
It wasn't long before she broke the awkward silence. "So how did a man like you end up here, Vincent?"
"What do you mean a man like me?"
Her arms flew to her chest, crossing habitually in defense. "Well, it seems to me that you would be happier in a big city."
"Actually, I have always liked how peaceful it is here. Have you ever noticed that you can't see the stars at night in the city? It just seems to me like you are closer to God here."
"How did you even end up here?"
"Here?"
"Yes, here. How did you end up in the middle of nowhere and partners with my father?"
"Well it's kind of a long story, but your pa took me in, when I got in trouble with the law."
"I am not surprised."
"That your father took me in?"
"That you were on the wrong side of the law once."
"It was a misunderstanding more than anything."
"Yes, I am sure it was all a misunderstanding, but please do go on." She leaned towards him listening intently, her chin rested on the palm of her hand, and her elbow on her knees, in a classic thoughtful position.
"It really was. The sheriff had caught me hitching a ride with the stagecoach. Your father took me in when no one else would."
"What about your family?"
"I don't have family."
"Why not? Everyone has a family. Don't they?" Barbara couldn't imagine life without knowing her mother. Although times had been tough in her childhood, she still had known her parents loved her. She wished she had understood what her father had gone through sooner, and she would have attempted to get to know him as well.
"I never knew mine. My pa was a gunslinger, and my mother gave me up. I lived in the orphanage until I was twelve. I ran away and hitched a ride on the stagecoach that ran through town here, but I got caught."
"What did they do with you?"
"They turned me over to the sheriff in town."
"A twelve-year-old boy doesn't belong in jail!" Barbara said, outraged.
"There weren't any homes for boys like me to send me to here, so the sheriff turned me over to your pa. Buster took me in, taught me how to work, and we became partners. I never looked back," Vincent said.
Barbara wondered just how hard it was for him during his childhood. To have to be raised in an orphanage, and then finally to be treated like a kid, and given some kind of real home. Her father must have thought of Vincent as a son to treat him so kindly over the years, and without that love, Vincent may have turned to a life of crime to make his way in this world. Instead of working for a living as he did now.
Looking at him at that moment, she could see the twelve-year-old little boy who was just looking to be loved, looking to be held. She felt a strong pull to touch him somehow, to just reach out and comfort him. "That must have been a hard childhood for you. To be alone like that."
"It was a long time ago, and I am not alone anymore."
Finally she gave into the urge to touch him, and placed her hand over his. "No, you aren't alone anymore."
Vincent and Barbara slipped into a daily routine, and an uneasy truce. She never brought up the whorehouse incident again and he kept the conversations light. She tried to forget what she had seen, but the sexual tension stayed heated between them even if it was ignored. She didn't want to share him with anyone else, and yet ever since she saw him in bed with those two women, it was all she could do to not picture it in her head, and imagine she was the one cradled in his arms.
With every day, the panning for gold was becoming more mundane. It was hard work, frustrating when you didn't get a payout, and the sheer harshness of the physical labor threatened to break Barbara.
She had grown calluses where she had none before. Her muscles grew stronger and she lasted longer, but after hours of working the ground, shovel after shovel, she needed a break, and she was getting tired of Vincent's heated glances. They were making her hot and raising emotions in her that she would rather not feel. That coiled sensation in her belly was stronger than she wanted it to be, caused by simple things that she just knew he did on purpose. Did he have to brush up against her, caressing her arm as he gave her the shovel? Did he have to tap her on the bottom as she walked out the door? It was beyond what would have accepted or witnessed in polite society, but in the privacy of their own home, it sent a thrill down her spine that gave her a secret desire to want to ask for more.
It was time to cool off. Barbara was the first to break eye contact and, grabbing the bucket, she made her way into the water. She sashayed into the water, purposefully swinging her hips a little more than she had to. Her skirts were already wet, soaking up the cool liquid. She bent over, using one hand to cup the water, and splashed it over her face, allowing it to spread onto her neck and back and drip onto her breasts.
She let the bucket dip into the water, allowing it to fill slowly, and when it was nearly full she pulled it up. The current fought to keep its hold and Barbara found herself fighting to keep her balance. Her footing on the slick stone was insecure, the skirts she wore had become increasingly heavy with the water. Suddenly her feet slipped out from under her, and she fell into the water. The current pulled her downstream quickly.
Fear gave way to panic as she realized she was fighting a losing battle. Once, twice, she came up gasping for air. Her lungs burned. She screamed, hoping Vincent heard her cries for help. She wasn't sure she had a chance to save herself. Her arms and legs flailed in the water, twisting in the material of her dress. Desperately she let go of the bucket and began to undo her dress, realizing that the only thing the sodden clothing was doing now was pulling her under. She opened her mouth, fighting for air, and her mouth filled with water. She tried not to cough, but the reaction was a natural reflex that she couldn't stop.
Would it be painful to die? Perhaps it wouldn't hurt so much. She wished she had taken the time to learn how to swim. If she lived after today, she would make a point to learn sometime.
Vincent looked over in time to see Barbara's slim figure go under the water. His heart stopped as he listened to her wrenching screams before going under again. His feet seemed to move independently of his body as he ran. He didn't even feel the water until he was completely submersed. His arms moved in powerful strokes to where he last saw her go under.
With his heart thundering in his ears he dove, blindly feeling for her body under the water. When his lungs felt like they would burst he came up for air. He treaded water, hoping to see anything beneath the murky depths. Vincent let the water carry him a few feet and dove again. After a minute he came back up for air and repeated the process.
Damn. Where was she?
His chest was tight with the fear of losing her. He would never forgive himself if he...
Something brushed his leg and he immediately reacted, his body jackknifed in the water to let him reach for the strange object and was rewarded with the brush of skin. It had to be her. He grabbed her body and pulled her to the surface. He expected her to be fighting him if she was panicking and drowning. Or to be helping him, if she were alive and conscious. That she did neither of those things sent him to a new level of worrying.
He tried to keep her head above the surface as he swam for the shore. It worried him that Barbara wasn't coughing, or sputtering. She was so unresponsive, but there was no time to worry until he could do something about it. As soon as his feet hit the ground, he moved her to a position so that he could carry her better out of the water without dragging her.
Her lips were a shade of blue that was not becoming, her face was too pale, her eyes were shut, and it was apparent even to him that she wasn't breathing.
"Don't die on me, woman." Vincent hoped she could still hear him. Perhaps it wasn't too late. People died everyday in this harsh land. The Wild West wasn't called wild because it was safe, but why someone so young? Or so beautiful? It wasn't fair. He wouldn't let her die.
Not so carefully, he laid Barbara on her side so any water would flow out of her mouth. Then Vincent rolled her onto her back. Perhaps if he pressed on her stomach, he could get the water out? He tried and was pleased to hear a sloshing sound. Her chest was still not moving, and out of desperation brought his lips to hers and breathed out, forcing air into her lungs. He did this again, refusing to give up hope. He was rewarded with a sputtering sound as she coughed up water. If she was coughing, then she was breathing.
Thank God!
She was breathing on her own. Vincent brought her into his arms, cradling her as she coughed some more. He held her as tight as he dared, pressing her back to his chest. He wanted to kiss her, to feel her breath on his lips. To open her up and taste the sweet nectar inside, if nothing else than to assure himself that she was still alive.
"Tell me you are okay," he demanded, his words a mere whisper in her ear.
Barbara turned to face him, feeling a little confused. She meant to say something. She wanted to say how scared she was that she was going to die, that she didn't know how to swim, and it was a miracle. To say thank you and so much more, but she didn't have a chance. As soon as she was facing him, his lips crashed down on hers with a fervor that was unexpected, and yet welcomed. She felt shocked that he kissed her. Until today she wasn't even sure he liked her, and wasn't sure how to respond.
Tentatively she placed her hands on his chest and softened her lips just as he pulled away from her.
"I'm sorry, I should not have kissed you like that."
"Why not?"
"I meant I shouldn't have taken advantage of you. You have just been through all this and so innocent, and here I am---"
"I know how to kiss," she interrupted.
"Oh? Are you an experienced kisser then?" he asked with a suddenly amused expression.
"I will have you know that I don't go around kissing men. I am certainly not as experienced as you."
"We should correct that deficiency."
When he was met with confusion, he elaborated. "Kissing."
"I can't kiss you."
"And why not? It's not like you have a beau at home waiting for you. In fact, learning how to kiss may help with that deficiency as well."
He tipped her chin up, turning her face to his. He kissed her, letting the passion out through his lips. Slowly he ran the tip of his tongue along the inner edge of her lips, willing her to open for him. Her lips separated, allowing him entry and he was rewarded with her delicious taste. He delved and thrust his tongue, as though making a game of it as she fought to capture his. He circled within her mouth and she was hesitant at first, but she picked up on the art of kissing quickly.
His breath came faster and when he felt his lower half hardening at her naïve but honest reactions, he knew he had taken this too far. Suddenly Vincent picked her up in his arms and began the journey back to the house. If he waited any longer, they might both end up naked on the beach.
And he knew better than to take advantage of her anymore than he already had. Her arms circled his neck as he carried her towards the cabin. His deep voice was tinged with regret as he spoke, "Come on. Let's get you home and warmed up, sugar."
It was as if they never kissed, as if they never touched, once they returned to the cabin. It was so awkward at first. Neither of them discussed what happened. If he looked at her, she was too embarrassed to face him. So Vincent busied himself with making a fire, and warming up the cabin.
"We better get you out of those wet clothes," he said, breaking the silence.
"What about you?" Barbara asked, disconcerted at the idea of being unclothed in his presence.
"I am more worried about you getting sick, sugar." Vincent picked up a blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders. He bent down to kiss her cheek and she pulled back sharply.
"Is there a reason you turned me away?" He would never understand women. The kiss they shared earlier said she enjoyed the experience, and yet she was running from him now at the slightest brush of his lips.
"No."
"Are my kisses not good enough for you?"
"No---It's not that---It's just---"
"Just what? Just that I am not good enough for you or your prissy life?"
"No! I'm a virgin!"
He watched her face turn crimson before she turned away quickly, obviously embarrassed to have said that out loud. She covered her face with her hands before continuing. "I have never felt this way about a man before, never wanted more, but---"
Vincent sat down next to her on the bed, and she rolled into him as the mattress gave way from his weight. He tried to make his words comforting, "But you are scared."
"Mmm-hmmm."
He had an overwhelming desire to protect her, but at the same time he never wanted her more. Taking her for the first time would hurt. There was no getting around that brief pain. He didn't want another man teaching her about love. He couldn't stand the thought of some other lucky bastard taking her virginity.
"You know I would never hurt you, Barbara. Do you trust me?"
"Yes. I trust you."
"There are ways a man can love a woman without taking her virginity. Would you let me love you like that?"
"I don't know about that..." Her voice trailed off.
He cupped her chin, tilting her head up to his, as he bent down in a kiss. His lips barely brushed hers before he spoke again. "You can trust me."
"I trust you, Vince," she said just before his mouth pressed down against hers. His lips were more persuasive than she cared to admit. Her arms snaked around his shoulders pulling him into her. Feelings that had been too long denied, wrapped themselves around her chest. A familiar pressure built in her chest, snaking down into her stomach.
He peeled the wet clothing from her skin, hardly taking the time to lay the clothing over the chair to dry. She folded her arms over her breasts attempting to hide herself from him.
"You can always trust me to take care of you, Barbara. I won't hurt you." His voice broke with huskiness. Gently he slipped his hand under her arms, cupping one breast in his hand.
The feelings he woke in her made her want more. Shy at first of sharing her body, she was slow to remove her arms. It wasn't until he bent his head to kiss her breasts that she thought to put her hands on him. He sucked on her nipple, causing it to peak under his masterful tongue. She traced her fingers through his short chestnut hair, pulling him closer.
What was that in her belly she was feeling? A pressure so intense she wanted to say something, do something to relieve it. It was even now unfurling through her belly, lowering to a space between her legs.
Suddenly her feet were lifted out from under her. She gasped out in surprise as two strong arms carried her to the bed. His lips locked on hers, his tongue questing, demanding nothing less than complete surrender. The kiss sent the pit of her stomach into a wild swirl.
With experienced hands, he removed the last of her undergarments and her torn stockings. Vince knelt above her, making no attempt to hide the fact that he was watching her, soaking in every beautiful feature.
"Are you done?" she asked innocently.
"Not by a long shot, sugar. I was just getting started." He looked her over seductively. His hands caressed her ribcage, moving downward. He dropped kisses where his fingers had touched, licking and sucking the flesh. It was driving her mad with desire. Barbara didn't know what she wanted, but she knew she wanted more of him.
When he parted her legs, she panicked, attempting to close them tightly. "What are you doing?"
"Trust me, sugar. Just relax." His voice was smooth, but insistent.
"I can't relax. I've never done this before. What are you planning on doing?" She was trembling beneath him, not from fear, but anticipation.
"You really want to know? I am going to kiss you here." His hand cupped her sex. She was a little shocked at the way it felt to have his warm hand against her flesh. She felt embarrassed, and yet it felt good.
And when he parted her legs for the second time, she did not fight him. She trembled in anticipation, her breath coming faster as she watched his head disappear between her legs.
"Oh, my God!" She threw her head back, her long blonde hair splaying around her. He was doing things to her that made her unable to stop from crying out. "Yes."
She was drawn to a height of passion she had never known before. Her head reeled with these strange new feelings. Unconsciously her hands were drawn to his hair, pulling those magic lips of his into her cunt. She felt much wetter, much hotter, and she couldn't help but feel she wanted something more.
Oh, God! What was he doing? The breath caught in her throat as she felt his lips on her womanhood. He pulled the bud of her clitoris into his mouth, working it back and forth, sucking and pulling it gently to and fro. Her hips bucked up under him and he pushed her firmly back into the mattress. He gave her no quarter, not stopping, and the crescendo built inside of her, the pressure ever increasing, until she was finally pushed over the edge. "Vince, oh..." She moaned, her body still quivering from the remnants of ecstasy.
Seeming satisfied at her body's response, he worked his way back up to her lips, pressing his firm body against hers. He kissed her and she could taste herself on his lips. A sweet taste, but unfamiliar. She wasn't sure why it gave her pleasure to taste herself, but it did.
His cock pressed into her thigh, still hard. She wanted him higher and between the juncture of her thighs. She wriggled under him, hoping to shift him there. While he did not move where she wanted, he did press his groin back to match her thrust. Barbara did it again, hoping he would continue to grind against her. Their bodies grew more fervent and more impassioned in their demands. Her eager response matched his thrust for thrust.
"You are going to have to stop that, or I will not be able to stop myself, sugar."
"But I don't want to stop."
"Do you want me to finish?"
Barbara felt a lurch of excitement inside of her. "Yes. I want to feel you inside of me."
He seemed to think for a moment before he got off her. "Okay. All you have to do is to relax and trust me. I want you to get on all fours for me. Can you do that?"
She got into position, and looked over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of him undressing, pulling his pants down. "Like this?"
"Just like that." His voice held his approval.
His cock sprang eagerly as he finished undressing, already hard and long. Her gasp was audible at the first sight of him. She swallowed hard, not knowing what he was going to do next. Her gaze followed him as he walked to the nightstand and picked up a bottle of oil from inside the drawer then crept back on the bed, facing her, and held the bottle out to her.
Sitting up on her knees, she took the glass bottle and opened it, oiling her hands. Unsure of what to do next, she looked up at him with the question in her eyes.
He answered her by placing her hands on his cock, and his cock jerked in her hands. She moved to pull away and he wrapped his hand around hers, working them in an up and down motion. More confident with time, her touch grew firmer.
"Now, the trick to this is to relax. Did I ever tell you how sexy your ass is?" He gave her a smile that made her pulse race.
She went back on all fours, knowing he intended to take her, bracing herself for his entry. When she felt his experienced hands on her ass, she tightened her buttocks in response.
"No, sweetheart. You gotta relax or it will hurt." He used the oil to help lubricate her opening, stretching her pink rosebud, circling the opening. First with one finger, he swept inside, and then two fingers entered her, moving in and out with delicious ease. He used his tongue, occasionally working her clit to help get her in a more aroused state.
"I didn't think you'd be going there."
"Relax, sugar. People have been doing this since biblical times, and it will allow you to keep your virginity."
Barbara made a conscious effort to relax the muscles in her ass. He separated the cheeks of her butt, and pressed himself to her entrance. When she felt the tip of his manhood probe her ass, she fought the panic. His words of comfort and the feeling of him as he filled her, coming inside of her, was a deliciously full feeling. She wanted him, all of him, inside of her. She leaned down, pushing her chest into the bed, making her ass more accessible for him, willing him to enter her deeper. Vincent pushed inside of her and there was a rush of burning discomfort, a slight pinch of pain, but the pleasure she felt quickly overcame that pain.
When she voiced her pleasure, he repeated his performance, pushing inside of her not quite all the way, and her tight ass clenched around his cock, resisting his entry. He pushed in again, this time deeper, and she moaned as he filled her completely. He began to move in and out in a slow, steady rhythm. As he fucked her ass, he dipped his fingers in her wet pussy and played with the tip of her clit, driving her into a new passionate frenzy.
Her voice was stretched thin as she moaned out, "Oh, my God, Vince! What are you doing to me?"
He chuckled in response. It was definitely arousing to hear her caught up in her need. With his free hand, he moved under her, pinching her nipple, twisting it just enough to get her to cry out.
"Please, I need ... I need.... more." She clung onto the bed frame with her free hand as he pumped into her.
That was all it took to send him up over the edge. Determined to take her with him, he worked her clit as he came. He pumped furiously before feeling her body press against his, and letting his own seed spill into her. Sticky semen seeped out around him as he withdrew, the strong muscles expelling the juices from her sweet ass.
They lay down together, spent from their lovemaking. She touched his cock, clearly fascinated by the part of him that had given her such pleasure.
"That must be why everyone wants to get married so badly."
He stiffened at the statement. "Marry you? Oh no, honey, I hope you know that I am not going to marry you just because I fucked you."
A soft gasp escaped her, and her heart dropped to her stomach. She didn't know what she was thinking. A man like Vincent would never settle down. They never agreed to marry, or even to love. But she wasn't sure she wanted to lose the little she had with him either. "Well, I didn't mean anything by it. I don't want to marry you, either, but I did enjoy tonight."
He smiled. "That is a performance I wouldn't mind repeating, sugar. And you are technically still a virgin, but if you want me to correct that deficiency, I would be happy to solve that for you."
"After all that, I am still a virgin?"
"You may have lost your innocence but not your virginity, and you'll only lose that when you decide you want to give it up to me," he said smugly.
"I want to give it to the man who marries me, Vince."
"You don't always have to feel loved to be fucked, and you don't have to fuck because you love. If you ever change your mind, I will still be here, hun. And I promise I'll be as gentle as I can be and make your first time an event to remember."
Barbara snuggled deeper into the crook of his arm, biting her tongue on the words asking him to take her right then.
The following weeks were filled with long days working on the claim and nights teeming with explicit lessons on sex. Vincent taught her how to please a man with her mouth, which she found especially fun to watch his reactions as she pushed him to come under her attention. She loved the taste of him, loved almost everything about him. He had a sexy body, lean and hard. At night, he would hold her and she never imagined it would feel so good to just be held by a man.
Barbara thought she had learned everything there was to know about loving one another's body, but she was wrong. He had her nipple in his mouth, waking her, as he was prone to do lately. He circling her pearled nub with his tongue before sucking on it once more.
"Oh, that feels good, Vince, and to think I only thought those were good for babies."
"These," he emphasized the word while fondling her other breast, "are good for a lot more than feeding babies."
"I never knew, since no one had ever taken the time to teach me how they were used."
"So tell me, my dear, have you ever been titty fucked before?"
She felt a ripple of excitement before shaking her head in answer. Just saying those words made her wet. Another lesson that she was sure she would enjoy. She enjoyed learning everything with Vince.
"Do you wanna try it?"
Of course she wanted to try it! Everything he had showed her was wonderful so far, but she didn't want to sound too eager. "Sure. What do I do?"
"All you have to do is lay there and enjoy it. I will do all the work, sugar." He straddled her naked body, his cock already hard, and he positioned himself between her breasts. "God, you have gorgeous tits."
She smashed her breasts together over his cock, somehow knowing he would enjoy that. He thrust into her chest, parting the soft flesh with his hardness. Excited by her enthusiasm, he thrust again and again with his hips. She jiggled and bounced as he moved, thrusting harder and faster, lengthening and hardening until he spilt his seed, white cream dripping all over her breasts and chest.
Eagerly she grabbed the tip of him, bringing him into her mouth, licking the cream as he continued to drip into her mouth. His cock pulsed, and she released him when she knew he had spent.
"Sugar, you are one of the best fucks I ever had."
Best fucks? That was all she was to him? Some kind of fuck toy he could use when he felt like it? God, if he only knew how much more she wanted to be. She already felt like she would be lost without him. She liked the sex with him far more than she would care to admit. Not that she had anything to compare it to, but it left her feeling so good afterward. And yet ... he had never taken her virginity. They knew every inch of their lover's bodies, and yet he respected her enough to leave her virginity for her husband one day.
Which only reminded her that it wouldn't be him.
What was she doing to herself? Why was she torturing herself this way?
Vincent watched her as she bent over to get more water for the sluice. He sensed her withdrawn state and didn't want to push her. He never pretended to know women all that well, but he knew enough to get by, and whatever was on her mind would be better left alone.
A flash of gold suddenly caught his eye and he bent down to examine it. Fool's gold most likely. He had seen it before. So he wasn't too excited.
But this wasn't fool's gold.
He picked up the fist size nugget and held it up to the light. "Oh, my God! Barbara, we're rich. We struck gold!"
Barbara dropped the bucket and ran over to him. He picked her up in his arms and swung her around in a circle. "We can have anything we want now, Barbara."
It was hard not to be swept up by his euphoria, but something else nibbled at her heart. There was no reason to stay any longer. Living with him would make it impossible to find a husband or any future happiness, because staying with him would only confirm what Barbara already knew, all she wanted was Vincent. Suddenly she realized she had to leave him now or lose her heart forever.
Just thinking of it shattered her.
"I want to celebrate tonight, Vince," Barbara said. "I want to do something crazy and stupid and something I have never done before. I want you to fuck me, just like you fucked the girls in the whorehouse. Only I want it to be better."
"Are you sure?" he asked, not quite believing her.
"Yeah, you want it? How many times are you going to make me say it? Come and get it!"
She turned and fled, before he stormed after her, chasing her to the bed. He was like an animal, growling at her deep in his need, pulling her clothes from her body with just enough care as not to tear them.
He shimmied out of his own clothes quickly, knowing he should slow down and make this special for her. Yet, he just wanted to claim her more than anything right now. They could take it slow later.
Vincent knew what he wanted, and he wanted to make sure there was no doubt in her mind or his that she belonged to him. He nibbled on her flesh, wanting to memorize the taste of her, the soft fragrance of lavender on her skin. She was soft and sweet smelling.
Barbara opened her legs and he parted the swollen pink lips of her pussy, readying her for himself. First he placed one finger in her, then two, stretching her just a bit. She was so wet and tight, and he had waited so long for this. He always knew it would be him taking her virginity.
His cock pulsed in his hand as he set it at her entrance. He braced himself, holding onto her waist as he began to move slowly, each time lowering himself a little more into her flesh. "So damn tight," he whispered, loving the way she fit him like a glove. The resistance was not going to give much more, so he pressed hard, using the full force of his body weight and she gasped as she felt pain of the loss of her virginity.
Barbara gave a little whimper as he suddenly pushed his way into her. He stilled his movements, just laying there inside of her. Why wasn't he moving? Irritated, she began to wriggle under him, trying to encourage him to match her thrusts.
He laughed softly before he began to move slowly. Maddeningly slow, in and out of her. The pain was slight in comparison to her pleasure.
"Am I ruined yet?"
"Lord, I hope so. I want you ruined for all other men. I want you for me and me alone, sugar." He thrust into her, more demanding, claiming her in every sense of the word.
The orgasm was cataclysmic as they both came. Her body clenched tightly around his cock, sucking him dry. He pressed against her, holding himself there as he came.
As he spilled his seed into her, she whispered to him, holding tightly to his back. "I belong to you, Vince. No one else but you."
A tear slipped silently down her cheek. She nearly said she loved him. It didn't shock her that he didn't respond, it would have been more shocking if he had. He said he wanted her to belong to him, but he had no intention of belonging to anyone else. He wouldn't marry her, and she was kidding herself if she believed that.
So her one choice left was to leave him.
But where she should go was another story. The gold would not last and the brothel wouldn't accept virgins to work for them. Besides, she would rather give her virginity to Vincent than a total stranger.
Perhaps one of her lovers would come to love her over time and maybe even marry her.
She could still have her happily ever after. She could still marry and have kids. Everything she always dreamed of. So why did the thought of marrying someone else leave a bad taste at the back of her mouth?
Barbara came to Annie's place with nothing more than the clothes on her back. She left everything, well, almost everything. She brought the gold nugget so she could buy what she needed to start her new life, but she would give up half to Vincent when he came looking for it. She knew he wouldn't let her keep it to herself and she didn't expect him to.
Annie's girls were lounging in the great room. With few customers, they were chatting amongst themselves and waiting for the gentlemen to come in. It was too early for the drinkers or the gamblers. They were all still sleeping in from their last night's activities.
Annie apparently recognized Barbara from their one meeting and interrupted rendezvous. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this ... Mrs...? Forgive me, I can't remember ever being introduced to you."
"That's because we were not introduced, Annie. I am Barbara Lane." She wasn't sure how she had fallen to this, and would never have considered this before her affair with Vincent. Men could have relationships without getting emotionally involved; perhaps she had not practiced enough. Perhaps there was something wrong with her that she wanted to hand her heart to Vincent because she slept with him. If she did not love him, it would have been so much easier to stay with him, but he didn't want that kind of woman. He had said so himself. He couldn't settle down with one woman, because he wanted to be able to continue to play games.
Annie gripped Barbara's hand, welcoming her with a warm smile. "Well, Miss Lane, would you care for a drink?"
"Actually I don't---" She was about to say that she didn't usually drink. That she should probably not drink now. But, she could use the courage. Today she was doing all kinds of things she never did before. "All right. A shot of whiskey would be nice. I actually have business to discuss with you, Annie."
"Oh?" Annie went to the bar and poured a drink for both of them in shot glasses.
"Yes." Barbara sat down in front of her on the tall oak barstool. She nervously fingered the shot glass before looking Annie in the eyes. "I came here to ask for a job."
Annie smiled but didn't laugh, as Barbara thought was a possibility. Instead Annie appraised her, running her gaze over Barbara's young feminine body, quietly admonishing the modest dress, before meeting Barbara's gaze.
"You don't look ready to work here." Annie asked her softly, "You sure you want to do this?"
"I am."
"Do you have any experience in this line of work, Barbara?"
"No, but I can learn how to lay on my back just the same as any other girl."
Annie's lips kicked up at the corners. "There is a little more to it than just laying on your back, Barbara. Sometimes the men only want to talk, and sometimes they want full service, but every man is different."
"I know. That is why I am here, for you to teach me."
"That's the attitude I need in my girls. I am going to take a risk on you. Barbara, you have a job. Kitty will show you the ropes, and get you something decent to wear. She is one of my best girls here, and if you want to be any good, you will listen to her."
"Who is Kitty?"
"You met once already, I am sure you will remember her." Annie smiled as if she knew a secret, and motioned for a girl across the room to come over to her. "Come here, Kitty. I have a job for you."
Barbara felt the tight pressure around her chest loosen. It was the other woman that Barbara had found Vince in bed with. For a moment she felt a twinge of jealousy, but then it disappeared into heartache. Neither of them had Vincent now. What did it really matter?
"Barbara will be working with us from now on. She needs something more suitable to wear and she needs to learn how to treat a gentleman. Can you do it?"
"Of course, Annie. It would be my pleasure," Kitty purred, her eyes sparked merrily in anticipation of the night to come.
Barbara looked at her reflection in the gilded mirror, and adjusted her breasts for what seemed the hundredth time. She tried to tuck most of her breasts back inside the tight material of her bodice. If she wasn't careful, her dress would be revealing the rosy colored flesh around her nipple to every man in the saloon.
"Don't hide yourself, sweetheart. You want to show off a little flesh around here. It will draw the men to you, like bees to honey."
"It's just hard to get used to it. Is it supposed to look this way?" Barbara's arms flew to her hips as she turned to face Kitty, modeling for her. Her breasts looked even fuller plumped up by the tight corset. Her fishnet stockings accentuated her legs, and she never felt so revealed in all her life.
"You look perfect. Now it's time to learn some of our tricks." Kitty grinned at Barbara wickedly.
"Tricks?"
"Of course, that is what we do around here, we turn tricks, but there are things that make a girl better than others, and a higher quality lady will always make more money and get more repeat business."
Barbara arched her eyebrow dubiously. She asked, "What kind of tricks?"
"For one thing, after every man, we wash ourselves down there so the next man doesn't even know we were with a gent only five minutes ago."
"Really? That is something I never thought about."
"It's the same reason we like to have a high quality perfume to wear. It's not just to smell pretty, but so that no one can smell anyone else on us." Kitty sprayed some perfume on herself from a crystal container and then spritzed a few times on Barbara's neckline.
"Oh. I have never thought of that."
"You don't have to when you are only sleeping with one man. You and Vincent ever..." Kitty trailed off provocatively.
"You mean did we ever...?"
Kitty nodded. "Did you let him?"
Barbara blushed. "He was my first lover."
"Well, hun, you got quite an introduction to sex then, cuz he is one of my better lovers. You ready to get to work?"
Barbara just looked at Kitty with a blank expression on her face. When Barbara didn't respond, Kitty didn't give her a chance to. Kitty grabbed onto Barbara's arm and pulled her back towards the main saloon hall. "Come on, it's late enough that a lunch crowd should be here and you do want to be able to pick a good man to turn your first trick with, don't you?"
Barbara nearly reconsidered what she was doing here, but there was another reason why she was here other than just to survive. She didn't need the money, not with the gold she made from her latest strike. She would be all right for a little while. There was one more thing: Vincent had said that night he came home from the whorehouse that he could never settle down with just one woman. He had to have a woman that could share. So if this was a way she could possibly win him, then she needed to learn how to share her man.
"How often are you asked to share a man with another woman?" Barbara asked.
Kitty looked at Barbara slyly through hooded eyes. "Not often, but if it makes your first time go smoother, I would be happy to join you."
"Join me?" Barbara asked nervously. She felt the blood drain from her face in her shock.
Kitty put her hand intimately on the small of her back as she directed her downstairs. "It's not as scary when you have a friend to guide you through your first time."
"Okay then, I think you should join me," Barbara said in a near whisper. She wanted to do it, it was one of the main reasons she came here, so she could prove to herself and to Vincent that she could be with another woman.
"No worries. We will make your first time a pleasure." At the bottom of the stairs Kitty picked up Barbara's hand and held it in hers, leading her across the room to the bar. She sat down and looked around the room at the meager selection of men. "Now all we need to do is find the right man for the job."
"What about him?" Barbara pointed to a man who sat in the corner drinking by himself.
"Actually, you don't want him, dear. He could be your second, but not your first one. For your first one you want someone who will appreciate it. He mostly doesn't do much, he likes to have things done to him and wearing women's undergarments and the like."
"Undergarments?" Barbara's mouth was agape.
"Shut your mouth, dear, and look away. It's rude to ogle, unless you want to encourage him."
Barbara snapped her jaw shut, and glared at Kitty instead.
"Now most men will just want to toss up your skirts for a quickie, what you need is someone ... oh, here we go." A man had just come in, quite handsome, with jet black hair and a soft moustache that grew just below his jutting nose. "You're in luck, dear. That is a good man there."
"Who is he?"
"Come on and I will introduce you."
Barbara blushed, and as Kitty pulled her over to the cowboy, she could feel the butterflies grow in her stomach. "I am not sure I should..."
"Nonsense. Do you think he is handsome?"
"Ummm ... yes, but I can't just---"
"You can always say no, but not if he doesn't ask for you. All I am asking you to do is meet him," Kitty whispered to Barbara in a hushed voice.
The rugged cowboy watched the giggling girls approach him with amusement, until they were within mere feet of him. His voice was rough as he spoke, "You're new around here, aren't you?"
Barbara blushed, and her heart was racing a million miles a minute. Why should something so normal and average make her body react this way? "Yes. I am the new girl, Barbara."
"This is James Wesson. He is a rancher on some prime property just to the north of us. He doesn't get down here much, but when he does, he really knows how to throw a party." Kitty petted his arm as she spoke. "Isn't that right, James?"
His gaze caressed Barbara, raising a sudden awareness of him as a man. A very virile and interested man who was interested in her as a woman.
He dimpled when he smiled. "Parties are always made better with good company."
"Good company and good beer. Did you know this is Barbara's very first day on the job?"
"Well, I would love to get a taste of you first. Would you like to celebrate with me? We could celebrate your new job and have a little party upstairs together. Just the two of us."
Kitty interrupted, clearly not happy to be left out of the arrangement. "Just the three of us. I said I would be there for her. To make it easier on her," Kitty purred.
Barbara felt a warmness gather between her legs. This conversation was taking a very erotic turn, and everyone had expectations of her to go through with this. Was she even ready for casual sex? With both of them?
"Well, that would be a mighty fine party."
"I said you have the best parties," Kitty tittered.
"What do you say, sweetheart? Do you want to join us upstairs?" James asked. He brought the palm of her hand up to his mouth as if to kiss it, then at the last minute he turned it over and kissed the sensitive inside of her wrist.
Barbara nodded, not trusting herself to speak. What she was about to do could end up changing her life forever. Once she made that choice, it wasn't like she could undo it. James wrapped an arm around each girl, pulling them close. He escorted them upstairs, patting Barbara on the rump before she walked into the bedroom. She squealed, jumping around to face him.
Kitty was the last to enter and she shut the door behind them.
He arched one brow high. "Are you sure this is what you want? A woman like you could be someone's wife as well as work here. There are many men who work in the area in need of a wife. Even I have thought about settling down once in a while."
It was all true, and yet there was only one man she could think of marrying right now, and he wasn't here. James was. Barbara worried her bottom lip between her teeth. It was kind of him to think of what she wanted. Kind of him to think of her when he was the one who was paying for her services. Kitty had said he would be a thoughtful lover for her first time.
"This is what I want."
He looked like he was about to say something, so Kitty intervened. She stepped behind Barbara and undid the laces on Barbara's dress. It wasn't long before Barbara was standing there with her clothes around her in a pile. "Don't argue with the girl, James. She knows what she wants."
Kitty reached around Barbara to play with her nipples, cupping and stroking her full breasts. It made the breath catch in her throat to feel the other woman's hands on her, touching her so intimately, and there was something deeply arousing about it as well. Barbara never expected to be aroused by another woman. Quite frankly, it shocked her that her body was responding now.
She could feel the moisture between her thighs, readying herself for sex, and it wasn't as a result of her lover Vince, it was for another man. James didn't arouse her the same way as Vince, but he was a handsome man, and there was a soft look in his eyes, as if he cared for her feelings. Barbara closed her eyes, savoring the moment before a bite on her neck startled her.
Not hard, just a nip, but it was enough to get her attention. Kitty whispered into Barbara's ear, "You need to remember his needs at all times. Why don't you undress me? I think he would like that."
Barbara turned around and began to undress Kitty, undoing each button incredibly slow, revealing a tiny bit more flesh each time she undid a button. Finally Kitty was naked. Barbara barely touched her, blushed anytime she made contact until Kitty said, "You can touch me. Go ahead."
Then she gave in to the overwhelming urge to touch, and Kitty purred under her caress. It was a simple act. Barbara's fingers touched Kitty's hand, tracing the skin on her arm, moving along the length until she reached her neck and then lower, to finally touch the tip of Kitty's breast. The nipple puckered under her touch. It was so tempting to do more, but dare she?
She shot a glance over her shoulder to see that James was enjoying his personal show. He was already tenting his pants and had loosened his shirt collar. She dipped her head down to get her first taste of Kitty, sucking lightly at first until Kitty moaned under the strokes of her tongue. Then she lifted her head to look at Kitty, and Kitty just smiled back.
"James, you are beginning to look overdressed for this party."
"I guess you ladies will have to do something about that, won't you?"
"Mmmm ... we certainly will. Come on, Barbara. You get his shirt and I'll get his pants."
"And my boots?"
"Can stay on. Do you plan on riding her like a cowboy---or just another man?" Kitty laughed.
"Come here, Kitty. Someone needs a spanking," he teased. He reached out and pulled her into his arms, kissing her. Watching them kiss like this, and Kitty's naked body pressed up against his was something she would have to grow used to over time. It didn't feel like she should be here. It felt as if she was witnessing a private moment between lovers, and yet it was incredibly exhilarating to be a part of it.
Kitty broke the kiss, giggling as she slid down James's body. She slipped into a kneeling position and began undoing his pants. Always with a smile on her face, as if she really enjoyed her job.
And why not, Barbara asked herself. Kitty should be enjoying herself. She was doing what she loved. Kitty took off each boot and then helped James out of his denim trousers. She undid his shirt, button by button, and pushed it off his shoulders, splaying her fingers across his chest.
"There's enough time for games later, Kitty. I want to play with my new toy."
Kitty purred and looked slyly at Barbara. "You ready for the real games?"
A thrill swept through Barbara as she said, "Yes."
Kitty sidestepped Barbara. Sweeping behind her, she slipped one arm comfortably around Barbara's waist, pulling her towards the bed.
Kitty fell onto the bed, taking Barbara with her, exposing Barbara's soft, wet pussy to her new lover. James's lips twitched up in a half smile at the girls' antics and moved closer. Kitty had one hand on Barbara's nipple and the other trailed down her belly, caressing playful circles across until she reached Barbara's clit, where she began kneading, eliciting a gasp from Barbara.
"Oh, my God! What are you doing to me?"
"Don't you like it, hun?"
"I---" Barbara trailed off before closing her eyes and succumbing to the rising fire being stoked in her body, letting out a stifled whimper through her fist.
"Does it feel good?" Kitty purred, waiting for a response from Barbara. When Barbara didn't say anything she slowed her fingers and asked, "Or should I stop?"
"Oh, no---don't stop! Please don't stop!" Barbara gasped out. Barbara pressed Kitty's hand to stay over her swollen sex, feeling her own wetness graze her fingers. Kitty's fingers had to be dripping with her wetness, she was aching with need. Pressure wrapped itself around her stomach. She pulled back her knees, spread wide for James as he hovered over her, his throbbing cock inches away from her pussy. She knew what she was asking when she threw back her head and said, "I need more."
He probed the top of her moist entrance, just teasing her with his cock. "Is this what you want?" James laughed. "I think we have a good little slut here, Kitty. With the right training she will be one of the best in the house."
Kitty took her fingers away from Barbara's clit, leaving room for James to enter Barbara. As he did, she let out a moan, taking all of him into her. Being sandwiched between Kitty and James was an erotic thrill she had never experienced before. It was overwhelming to her senses.
Barbara clenched her muscles tightly around James, taking him deep into her, and he let out a groan as he felt her muscles work him. "Shit, woman. Who taught you that?"
"What do you mean?" Barbara smiled slyly, then once again she flexed her internal muscles, slightly milking him. She could feel him stiffen inside of her, hardening in desire.
"That. Do it again." James held onto her hips and pushed his way deep inside of her, responding in a steady movement. He thrust into her with an urgent need, so that she answered in kind with the bucking of her hips. "Christ, woman. You are killing me."
Barbara clenched her muscles tightly, flexing against him. She bucked under him, taking him thrust for thrust as he took her. Her hands went unconsciously to his back, leaving light scratches along his backside, clawing at him, desperate to feel him deeper inside of her. It was raw animal power.
She came under him, her body stiffened as she held him to her, growling out his name. Her breathing was fast, but not nearly as fast as her heart. Her pulse pounded in her ears, and she whimpered against his rock hard chest. Waves of pleasure washed over her as she crested her orgasm. Each whimper she let out only seemed to fuel his ardor, and he responded by taking her to a higher level of need, until finally with one final thrust he sank into her as deep as he could go. He spasmed inside of her, releasing his seed. His cock continued to pulse inside of her with the memory of their lovemaking, a final testament to the beauty they shared.
Barbara had to ask herself, How does one go from being a virgin to working in a brothel in just four short weeks? It all started with falling in love with Vincent. She wouldn't regret that. Just as she would not regret this.
What she shared today with Kitty and James was beautiful.
Even if it wasn't love.
As if sensing her mood had turned serious, James dropped a kiss on Barbara's forehead. Then another on Kitty. "Ready to go again? We have the whole afternoon."
"But you aren't ready yet, are you?" She felt his cock begin to slightly harden between her legs, and a familiar pressure built in her stomach. "Oh my..."
Kitty pinched Barbara's nipple a little harder than was necessary. "When he's done with you, I want to be able to lick you clean."
Barbara blushed, imagining Kitty's head between her thighs and her pink wet tongue cleaning her pussy. It nearly made her come on the spot, when she felt Kitty's fingers massage her pussy again. "Oh my."
She was getting paid for this? I think I have found my calling, she thought happily. She never dreamed she would be working in a brothel, but this was actually fun.
"You will have to wait your turn, Kitty." It was the last word James spoke before his head disappeared between her thighs. He lifted her hips into his face as he began to kiss her, and then lick her sweet sex. She lost all control when he began to suck and work the small nub of her sex between his teeth. She cried out in a cross between pleasure and ecstasy so intense that it was painful. Nearly coming under his practiced kisses and that magical tongue in that moment.
"Ah-ah-ah," he said chastising her, raising himself up over her body. He kissed her, allowing the taste to linger on her lips, and she licked her lips, savoring the way her own juices tasted there. He thrust inside of her smoothly entering her already moistened flesh. She groaned out under him, arching into Kitty's body. He chuckled at her wantonness, "Don't come yet. Not until I say you can."
"I need to finish," Barbara demanded petulantly.
He pounded into Barbara's pussy, his balls slapping against Kitty's swollen flesh. He slid one hand under Barbara and massaged Kitty's nest of pleasure, looking for that tiny bit of flesh that could spark her desire. He was rewarded with Kitty's soft moans under Barbara. He liked being in power and control. "And you will. When I say you can."
Barbara thrust her hips against his in fevered movements, struggling for release under him wantonly. "Please, just give it to me."
Her sweet begging left him hard and his own thrusts became needier, more demanding. Their sweat-drenched bodies slid on top of each other, writhing in an erotic dance that refused to stop until the fire was quenched. Each frenzied movement built that flame higher with greedy sounds of desire, until all three were pushed over the edge of ecstasy, spinning out into chaos, their bodies weak with spent energy. Waves of pleasure washed over them.
Tonight was going to be a night to remember.
Annie looked very pleased after she spoke with James. She accepted a handful of bills and shook his hand. The smile on her face stretched from ear to ear. Barbara was still feeling the tingling effects of her orgasm, and was slightly weak-kneed. She leaned against the bar with a flirtatious smile at James, before he left the saloon.
Annie crossed the room and grabbed Barbara's free arm, whispering excitedly in her ear. "Whatever you did, you did it right. James wants to see you exclusively here. Would you be interested in a private arrangement?" When Barbara didn't respond, Annie carried on as if she had given her consent. "It would be in your best interest. Most girls would kill for this type of arrangement. He is going to pay you enough to be his only customer."
He liked her that much? Barbara felt butterflies rise up in her stomach. "Is that good?"
"Yes. It's good! Do I have to beat you to make you understand? It means he wants to see you exclusively. I saw this happen twice before, and both times the gent asked the woman to marry them shortly afterward. That is what you want, isn't it?"
"Of course." Barbara replied, but in her heart she wasn't sure if she meant it. It felt too empty inside her chest to be happiness.
Vincent never thought that she would leave him after all the nights they spent together, but she did, and she took the nugget with her. Damn woman. That shows you should never trust a woman, he thought angrily. The entire town was already talking of their gold strike. So finding her wasn't as big a problem as he believed. Everyone knew where Miss Lane was staying. She was at the hotel above Annie's Saloon and house of sin.
He found her with a gentleman who had her draped across his lap like a common harlot. "Didn't think I would find you this fast, did you?" The shock on her face made that evident.
"It's not exactly fast. It's been two weeks, Vincent."
Vincent snarled, not liking the rosy glow he saw on her face. Or the way she talked to him as if she never expected him to come after her. "I have been looking for you. Where were you? Why did you leave?"
"I had to leave, Vincent." The man holding her suddenly reached out as if to comfort her. "I have been here the whole time."
"Who's this?" He pointed to the dandy under her.
"My customer, and now my fiancé, James Wesson, who owns a ranch up north. He just proposed to me today. James, this is my business partner, Vincent Waverly," she said with the most gracious smile she could manage.
"Barbara, if you please, may I speak with you in private?"
"Of course. We do have business to discuss."
"Your fiancé?" He shot her a penetrating look as she rose. "I knew I should have ruined you when I had the chance."
"You did ruin me. He knows I am not a virgin." Her face burned as she remembered how many opportunities he had to ruin her for all future men. But he had not, until she gave him her virginity. She had willingly given up everything to him, her body and her soul. She also handed over her heart, when she fell in love with him, but just thinking about it made her want to cry again. It wouldn't do to cause a scene.
Not here.
Not now.
His smile was courteous as he left James, but she could feel the coolness of his eyes as he followed her down the hallways and into her bedroom. She shut the door behind them, guaranteeing their privacy.
"Did he fuck you already then?" His words were biting and clearly meant to hurt her.
How could he be so blunt? He might as well know everything. He didn't care about her, just that she was another piece of ass that belonged to him, and it infuriated him that she didn't belong to him anymore. "As a matter of fact, he was a client of mine."
His face grew red with suppressed rage. He tried another tack. "All he wants is your gold, Barbara."
"How do you know?" she asked, keeping her voice calm.
"He doesn't know you like I do."
"He wants me. More than you do. He asked me to marry me---which is more than you ever did."
That remark made him wince. It was the truth as she knew it. He had said that he didn't want to marry her, but that was in the beginning. Not after he had grown used to having her in his bed, and the softness of her touch. The way she laughed, was music in his ears, and damn it but if she didn't come back...
His thoughts were interrupted as she threw a small blue velvet pouch at him. He caught it midair and opened it. "I had this divided up just to be fair. There's your half."
"Thanks." He wasn't quite sure what to say. This was the reason he used to convince himself to come, but now that he was here in front of her, he wanted more than the gold. He wanted her. Ever since she had first showed up at the cabin, he felt a fever awaken in his blood, a hungry desire for this golden haired beauty and he wasn't going anywhere without her.
He put the sack aside and made his way to her, pulling her to his chest, embracing her in a long denied kiss. He wanted to kiss her since first seeing her again.
She placed her hands on his chest, pushing him away. "I can't."
"Why not?" he asked patiently, covering her face in the gentlest of kisses.
"Because I am engaged."
He kissed her again, kissing away her denial, her body already plaint in his arms. He released her for a moment, allowing her to speak once more.
Breathlessly she continued, "Because I want to get married."
He kissed her once more, this time lingering. "What if I said I wanted to marry you more than any other man?"
"You mean it?" Her eyes lit up.
"Yes. Do you have any more excuses?"
He kissed her again before she had a chance to think of any more. She responded out of instinct, her body softened against his, obedient to his silent demand.
Suddenly she pushed him away and looked down at the floor out of guilt. He didn't understand and he never would. "I want more than just for you to ask me to marry you out of pity, Vincent. I will not live in a loveless marriage. I am not going to marry you."
"Do you love him then?"
"Not yet, but he adores me, and I will come to love him in time."
His look was one of silent disbelief, "You say that you don't want to marry for lack of love. Did you ever love me?"
Barbara sighed, she felt the pressure grow more intense in her chest. It was a pain she recognized. Her heart was breaking. Of course she loved him. She loved him with all her heart, but knew he didn't feel the same way. He was the one who held himself back. He didn't love her and this would hurt too much, to love him this intensely and not ever feel the love returned. She couldn't live with this kind of pain. "This is not about my love, Vincent."
There wasn't anything he could say to that. He knew what she wanted. She wanted to hear him tell her that he loved her. He opened his mouth, and even though he willed it, no words came out. He could not tell her those three little words, even though he knew it would make her happy to hear them. Happy enough to stay with him. Vincent regarded her silently for a minute, then wordlessly he dropped his arms, letting her out of his embrace and turned, leaving without a word.
As soon as Barbara came back down to the parlor hall, Annie approached her. "Thank God. Where have you been? I have been looking all over for you."
"It wasn't important. I was just speaking to a customer."
"I have a problem. I need you to fill in for one of the girls."
"But I can't---"
"You have to! It's a favorite of the house and he has special tastes, my dear. He won't take any but the cream of the crop and he wants you, my dear."
"I am engaged now, Annie."
"Just this last one time. No one will know, and you will enjoy it. I can promise you that much. I gave you a job when you needed it. Don't make me regret helping you."
Barbara rolled her eyes. "Fine, what do I need to do?"
Annie's eyes lit up. "Absolutely nothing. All you have to do is lay there. He insists on anonymity, so he wants you blindfolded and he has a unique fetish. I will have Kitty prepare you for him."
"What do you mean prepare me?"
"It's nothing, dear. Kitty will explain everything you need to know. Go upstairs. You can use my bedroom. All you have to do is lay there."
You forgot to mention the part about being tied up, Barbara thought cynically about her earlier conversation with Annie. Just lie there, tied up and blindfolded, helpless under a man's careful attention.
Oh, God.
She was getting wet just anticipating what was to come. The thought was not an unwelcome one. Thoughts of a man, touching her most intimate places, a feather light touch hovering over her body, never knowing what he would do next. Just the thought of what could happen were diving her crazy. She clenched her thighs together, hoping to assuage some of her aching need.
Normally she would touch herself, but with her arms bound to the bedposts, she couldn't even scratch her nose. Suddenly she heard a door open and shut. Barbara turned her head to get a hint of who it might be. She could hear him circle the bed. It didn't help that she was naked, she felt helpless and aware of him, as a woman would always be aware of a man ready to pounce. She could sense a determination in the steady padding of his feet across the floor.
"Who are you?" Barbara asked in a squeaky voice. She knew she wasn't supposed to know and yet she had to find out who...
"Not quite yet." His voice was husky and familiar and yet she couldn't quite place it.
Who was he?
"Do you belong to another?"
She bit her lip, hesitating on her answer. It was a straightforward question. She was engaged, she wasn't supposed to be here. What would James do if he knew that she came here, expecting one last fling? She didn't want to destroy what she had, and what if this gentleman said something to James about what he and she shared tonight? No---she couldn't lie to this man---not when he may even already know the answer to his own question.
"Not quite yet," she replied.
"What do you mean? Either you belong to him or you don't. Do you belong to him?" His fingers touched her nipple, just circling her flesh and she quivered under him. Her nipple hardened in desire. A pressure tightened in her chest and traveled lower.
"Ummm..." That feeling between her legs was growing stronger, she clenched her legs tightly together hoping for a light relief.
"Do you?" His voice grew harsher and more demanding, but his hands moved, just barely touching her.
Somehow she sensed he would leave her if she said yes. If she said she belonged to another man, he would disappear and she could collect her things and go off with James tonight to become his wife.
Only there was something inside of her that didn't want to say it. She didn't want to say that she belonged to James, because her heart didn't belong to James, it belonged to another man. A man she could never have. Her heart felt empty and alone, craving the one person she could not have. Yet tonight, lying in this man's arms, in her blindfolded state, she could almost believe it was Vincent's strong arms that held her.
"No," she whispered in answer. "Tonight I belong to no one but you."
"Me? Does that mean anyone can buy your heart for the night?" he mocked. His painful words cut her to the quick.
"No one can buy me, I give myself only to those I want to. In fact, I love only one man."
"Oh, yes, and who would that be, Barbara?" Suddenly his voice was less harsh, even comforting as he spoke, so soft it was almost a whisper.
Her heart tightened as if a fist had clenched around it. She had just barely admitted it to herself that she wasn't over Vincent yet. How could she admit it to any other man? It wasn't James whom she loved. The man that she should love. The man that she was marrying.
"His name is Vincent."
Her answer was met with silence, and then suddenly he spoke, his words were raspy with unspoken need. "If you love me then marry me, Barbara."
"No, no, no. It can't be."
Vincent ripped the blindfold off her, his body draped over hers so intimately that she could feel his warmth even through the layers of his clothing. Just inches above her. Her heart tore at her chest painfully, knowing this was something she never expected.
"Marry me," he repeated.
Tears welled in her eyes. Why would he do this to her? She already loved him. Why would he want her to marry him when he didn't love her? The worst thing about marrying him would be that he could never grow to love her. She knew of men like him. They enjoyed the physical act of sex, but never fell in love and settled down, and if they did their marriage was a string of affairs. Most of the time the wife looked the other way, becoming more and more removed from their husbands. Well, she couldn't live like that.
"No." She couldn't help it---tears began to fall down her cheeks. She shook her head, thrashing against her bonds.
"Why not?" He caught her chin between his forefinger and thumb, forcing her to make eye contact.
He was going to make her say it? "Because you don't love me. I need to know you love me and you don't."
"Oh, but Barbara, I do love you." He looked at her so seriously that she knew he was telling the truth. She could see straight into his soul at that moment.
"Then why didn't you say it?"
"Stupidity?" He arched one eyebrow high. "I don't know. I guess because I never had to say it before, but when I thought about losing you, I just knew I couldn't let you go out of my life without a fight, because I love you."
"Show me."
"What?"
"Show me that you love me. I want to hear the words and I want to feel it. I want to feel that you love me."
"Baby, it would be my pleasure." He grinned at her, his hands worked her breasts tenderly, and then in a hot needy passion he could hardly suppress. She could feel his hard manhood tenting his trousers. His cock seated itself in the sensitive juncture of her thighs. He ground against her in his need, and she thrust her hips upward at him, wanting to capture him. Hastily he got up and shed his clothing.
Her eyes hungrily fed on his muscled and well-contoured body. Vincent was well built, his strong muscles chiseled from the long hours of working the gold mine. His cock jutted from the nest of hair below, bent up at the tip slightly. She wanted to suck him, to taste him, but perhaps later they could finish it. Right now all she wanted to feel was him pounding inside of her, taking her with the urgent need she felt claiming her.
"What do you want, sugar?" He said tenderly, leaning over her to kiss her hand and trace kisses along the inner wrist and towards her body. "I love you so much right now."
"Oh, God, Vince, just fuck me like you mean it."
Vincent positioned himself over her body, probing her with the tip of his cock before sinking deep into her welcoming flesh. She moaned out in pleasure. He pulled out slightly and pressed back in deeper, his balls slapped against her tender behind. Her hips moved in rhythm with the grinding of his flesh. Working his cock into her core, she tightened around him.
He hardened even more, sensing her driving need, and met her thrust for thrust. He pumped her hard, trying to reach the center of her being with the head of his cock. "Does this feel like I mean it, baby?"
"God, yes! No one fucks me like you do, Vince." She bucked under him, writhing in ecstasy against her bonds.
"That's because I loved you. I've always loved you, Barbara." He purred back in her ear, his tempo rising. Sensing her body was near her plateau, he slid two fingers between their tight, wet bodies to play with her clit, sending her over the edge of heaven.
He came inside of her, his body releasing the last bits of his seed, spilling into her womb. Her tight vaginal muscles clenched around him, sucking him dry.
Vince withdrew from Barbara before he released her arms, and she felt her wrists for a moment, examining the red chafed skin. It would heal, she thought to herself. It was a small price to pay in the name of love, and what a lover she had gained. Vincent always could make her senses spin out of control. He was not just a good lover, but a great lover.
They lay in each other's arms, and then it occurred to Vincent that he had not elicited her promise to marry him. With all they had just shared, and all that she had told him, not once did she say that she would marry him. "For the last time, will you marry me, Barbara Lane, and be my wife? Have my children and share my life? It would make me the happiest man in the world right now to hear you say yes."
"Yes."
Words couldn't describe his joy at that moment, so instead he silently smiled and sealed the deal with a kiss.
James Wesson was surprisingly easy to let down. He didn't seem to even care that she broke off the engagement. Which made it easier to break it off, since neither of them loved the other.
Vincent was at her side while she explained to James the wedding was going to be cancelled, and Vincent escorted her back to her bedroom to pack.
She heard the latch of the door behind them and turned around in surprise to see him locking the door.
"We wouldn't want this hotel room to go to waste, would we?" he said in a seductive voice. Her body reacted immediately, her insides turning to mush, moisture gathering between her legs. If he only knew the things he did to her with just a look. That sexy, hungry look in his eyes made her feel like he wanted to devour her on the spot.
"I guess not, do you have any ideas on how you want to use it, Vince?"
"I have a few. Do you have a girlfriend you might be interested in inviting up?" He enfolded her in his arms, and she arched her neck, exposing the tender flesh to his kisses. "I have always wanted to use my favorite position with you, but we are one girl short."
"As a matter of fact, I did meet this girl named Kitty..."
Missy Lyons was one of four girls born in Santa Maria, California. She grew up along the beach and back in the country, catching lizards and climbing trees. No one knew she would grow up to have such a romantic heart from the tomboy she was as a child. She is currently trying to be a city girl living with her family in Nashville Tennessee.
You can find out more about her and see more of her work or contact her on her website at www.missylyons.com. She loves to hear from her fans and you can also reach her by email at lyonsmissy@yahoo.com.
Visit www.phaze.com for information on additional titles by this and other authors.

