A Wanton Woman Page 6

  Luke settled his hips between mine and his hard cock slipped over my folds, then sank into me.

  “Fuck, yes.”

  I closed my eyes and tilted my head back and gave myself over to Luke. Yes, perhaps he was right. I’d never felt anything like this with John, and we’d been married five years. Perhaps the reason why I was so concerned that Walker left was because I worried for my own heart where he was concerned.

  When Luke took hold of the back of my thigh and pushed my leg up and back so he could go deeper, all thought slipped from my mind.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Luke

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I asked Walker.

  I’d come up behind him, put my hand on his shoulder and leaned in so that not everyone in the hotel lobby could hear my heated question. If anyone glanced at me, they could certainly tell I was bothered, but not as angry and frustrated as I truly felt. He’d walked out on Celia without a word or a backwards glance. He’d had his thumb on her ass, for fuck’s sake, and then didn’t even tend to her after.

  I’d had to soothe her from not only Walker’s departure, but embarrassment after having come while having her ass played with. She was definitely adventurous in bed, but she’d probably never considered ass play before. After I took her again—it was more gentle lovemaking than fucking—I’d shown her the smallest plug and let her hold it. We couldn’t do more this morning since we had to leave town and make it up to Jasper by nightfall. When I told her we’d not use it until later, her relief was noticeable. She just wasn’t ready for it yet. To say that we were overwhelming was most likely a gross understatement.

  And yet, she’d stared at it with definite trepidation and doubt, but with some curiosity about it as well. That boded well for two dominant men who wished to take her at once. If only one of the dominant men wouldn’t be such a pussy about all of this.

  That was why I steered Walker out onto the street where we were less likely to be overheard. Where my shouting at him blended into the busy activity of the Denver street.

  He let me do it, because while I was bigger, he certainly wouldn’t let me—or anyone else—push him around if he didn’t allow it.

  Once we were away from the entrance, he spun about. His face was all hard lines as he put his hat on his head. None of the desire from earlier showed.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Two ladies walked by and Walker tipped his hat.

  I waited until they were down the block before I responded. “You had a naked woman on top of you and you walked away.”

  Walker’s lips thinned. “I had Celia naked and on top of me.”

  “What the hell’s the difference?” I tried to keep my voice tempered. “She thinks she didn’t please you.”

  “Fuck,” Walker swore, scuffed his boot over the ground. He walked away, turned back, paced. His ragged breaths came out in white puffs before he came to stand before me again. It was a cold morning, especially in the building’s shadow.

  He had his issues that stemmed from Ruth dying. It had been horrible and I wouldn’t wish an early, miserable death on anyone, but she wasn’t the woman for Walker. He didn’t love her, although I doubted he’d admit that. She’d… intrigued a twenty-year-old and he’d made her his. But it hadn’t been a true match. I wasn’t sure if he was riddled with guilt more for being as instantly enthralled by Celia as I was or that he hadn’t felt for his dead wife as he did for Celia. I could see his interest in our new bride and it wasn’t just his cock that wanted her. He’d assumed he could go into this unorthodox marriage and just get a woman to warm his bed and to sate his needs, but he’d been wrong. Perhaps we both had.

  Celia was so much more than we ever imagined.

  “She pleased me,” he said, finally.

  “Too much,” I guessed. “That’s the problem, isn’t it?”

  He nodded once, curtly.

  I leaned in, put my hand on his shoulder again. “If you want to get in her ass, then you need to get your head out of yours.”

  He grinned then and I knew I’d broken him from his reverie. But, I wasn’t done.

  “Ruth’s gone, brother.”

  He sighed at my direct words. “I know, but I won’t get trapped like that again.”

  “Trapped? You can walk away from Celia right now. Just keep on going,” I advised. “The town can just find different men to inaugurate the new law. I’ll take her back to Slate Springs as just mine.”

  “And let Thomkins laugh you out of office?” he asked. “He’ll call you out, saying while you’ll pass the law, you won’t subscribe to it yourself.”

  Thomkins was an ass and he would do everything in his power to fuck with me. It had been that way since we were boys. Walker could shrug off his insults much easier than I ever could, it was just his way, but he wasn’t mayor.

  I watched as a stage nearly missed a man pulling a wagon of coal down the street.

  “This fight isn’t about me, or Thomkins, or the stupid law and you know it. I want her and I’m keeping her. If you’re not in, no one will know differently, but you have to be the one to tell her.”

  While I’d rather share Celia with Walker—there was no question she was attuned and interested in both of us—I wasn’t giving her up. She was mine. My brother just had to decide if she belonged to him, too. If not, he owed her at least the truth.

  Walker shrugged off my hand. “And let you have her all to yourself? She’s not Ruth. I know it. Fuck, when she got off the stage, it was like you’d punched me in the gut. She’s ours, Luke. No question.”

  “I know what you mean.”

  I did. The connection, the sense of knowing, had been instantaneous. As soon as I saw her walking down the train platform toward us, I knew. I wanted her with a craving I couldn’t explain, would never have imagined. I had to assume it was that potent for Walker as well. He wouldn’t have walked out on her otherwise. He cared enough to leave. But, hopefully he was going to commit on an even deeper level. We were both invested now.

  “And yet you walked away from her,” I added.

  “I walked away from how… intense this is.”

  I slapped him on the shoulder. “It’s incredible, how perfect she is for us. But I’ll keep her all to myself,” I repeated. “No problem.”

  He huffed. “No fucking way.”

  I grinned then. It wasn’t about the law. It was about us. We both wanted her and we were both going to keep her.

  “When you left, I had her all to myself,” I said, trying to rile him. It worked, because he narrowed his eyes and pointed a finger at me. I held my hands up in front of me. “You had her all alone when I went to The Lucky Swan.”

  One thing neither of us had considered during the three days waiting for Celia to arrive was how to prepare her to take both of us at the same time. It was the ultimate connection between us and we would not be denied. But, we would not hurt Celia either. Last night, when I’d fucked her, I realized we did not have any butt plugs to prepare her. And so I’d gone at dawn to one of the brothels in town, one that I’d frequented in the past. The owner knew me and had not only given me a small set of varying sizes of plugs, but congratulated me on my new bride.

  While I didn’t tell him she also belonged to Walker, the man wouldn’t have cared. In his profession, he’d seen everything. Ménage was tame for him.

  “Brother, it’s not all about fucking,” he countered, his words sharp.

  I dropped my hands back to my sides, gave my brother a meaningful look. “Exactly.”

  And I’d caught him, right then. His eyes widened as realization set in. This marriage wasn’t all about fucking, as he’d originally wanted. It was becoming acquainted with Celia, talking with her, discovering her interests, enjoying her, not just her body. She wasn’t just a bride, a faceless woman coming from Texas to marry us.

  Walker grunted and turned about, heading back into the hotel. I grinned, thinking about our bride. While Walker was conside
red the intense brother, the brooder, he’d held himself back. Cautious and wary. But now that he was resolved, I wondered if our new bride could handle the full effect of Walker Tate. It was going to be enjoyable to find out.

  ***

  Celia

  “I do not need that many clothes,” I told the men as they escorted me from a ladies’ dress shop, Walker’s arms laden with wrapped parcels. Luke refused to let me leave without donning a completely new outfit, from hat to boots. Now out on the street, I had to admit the clothing was quite warm against the biting wind.

  During our foray inside the shop, Walker played the role of brother-in-law while Luke filled the role of my new husband. I understood all too well that marrying two men was against the law everywhere… everywhere but Slate Springs, Colorado. I did not want to draw attention to our unusual arrangement any more than the men did.

  I was still coming to terms with what I’d done. Lord, I’d spent a wild and carnal night—and morning—with both of them. Luke had fucked me and I’d orgasmed with wild abandon. Just this morning, Walker had even pressed the tip of his thumb into my bottom as Luke did magical things with his fingers in my pussy. And they’d done it together. Together! I’d had two men touching me.

  The only time it seemed even the slightest bit similar to a conventional marriage was this morning when Luke had taken me while I lay on my back in bed.

  But what was a conventional marriage? Had my marriage to John been conventional? Did other husbands take mistresses to their beds? I had to wonder if perhaps with Luke and Walker I was, in fact, quite lucky. I’d come three times. In five years, I’d had zero orgasms with John, so I knew what Luke, Walker and I shared was… unique.

  The only similarity to what I’d done with John was the position. Earlier, Luke had been on top of me, just has John had always done. But with Luke, I’d been naked and eager and wet and he’d made me come. Again. He’d done it by sucking on one of my nipples as he brushed his fingers over my clit. John had never done either of those things. I’d never even gotten wet before.

  I’d loved it all with Luke and Walker. Every bit of it. I just had to reconcile what I’d been raised to believe compared to what we were doing. I should be chaste and modest. I was not. I should be meek and submissive. I wasn’t meek, but I seemed to be even more submissive than I ever thought. I’d loved the way the men dominated me. My mind, my body, my pleasure.

  But they hadn’t pushed or demanded when they could have easily overpowered me. John had expected compliance, acquiescence to his husbandly needs. I’d never told him no, but I had to wonder if he would have taken me even if I’d denied him.

  Walker and Luke had asked first, gained consent before they even kissed me. They were honorable, yet did an honorable man want to fuck my ass? And yet Walker seemed doubtful about something. Not me, but perhaps he had some issues as he’d been married before. Was that why he’d rejected me? Had it been too much to play with my ass? Was I too much?

  I had to assume the answer was yes, but—

  “You said yourself you have no winter clothing. Not even a coat or gloves. Your dresses are made of cotton, not wool. Even your stockings are for warm weather,” Luke said. “While there are premade dresses at the shop in Slate Springs, it is better to be well supplied in advance of the long winter.”

  He tucked my hand into the crook of his arm as we walked down the street. My new coat, a lovely shade of blue, was thick and heavy. The kid gloves were lined with rabbit fur. But neither kept me as warm as the feel of Luke against my side, who seemed to be warm even in the coldest of weather. I assumed Walker was the same way, but he walked two steps behind us for propriety’s sake.

  “The livery is just a block away. Are you comfortable walking that far for us to get our horses?” Luke asked.

  They’d told me we were to ride horses to Slate Springs, stopping overnight in a town called Georgetown on the way. I’d never heard of it, but both men assured me it would be a comfortable night. By the looks in their eyes, I assumed by comfortable they meant pleasurable. My pussy, which was a little sore and definitely tender, clenched at the idea of being between them again.

  I was about to reply with a simple yes when I saw someone and I stopped as if my feet froze to the ground. My heart skipped a beat as I looked across the busy thoroughfare and saw Carl Norman. He was of average height with dark hair and equally dark eyes and could hide easily among the people walking along the city sidewalk. But it was his tanned skin that set him apart. While the sun was bright, overly so, in Colorado, no one walking past had skin the color of caramel, indicative of life in a warmer climate.

  Luke didn’t expect my stop and kept walking, tugging me along a step. Walker put his arms on my shoulders to keep from running into me.

  “What is it, doll?” he asked, turning his head to where I was looking.

  I stared across the street intently, Carl’s eyes directly on mine. Oh God, he’d found me. All my fears hadn’t been unwarranted. He was here watching me.

  The corner of his mouth tipped up in a wicked smile. I gasped, then pinched my lips together. I hadn’t told either man about Carl, that he wished me dead, even threatened to kill me for what I’d done to his brother. I’d sputtered to him when he’d cornered me in the alley that I’d done nothing. I hadn’t pulled the trigger that killed two people. But Carl hadn’t seen it that way and sought revenge. Sought revenge for the only witness to his brother’s crime, who helped in his conviction, and ultimately, execution.

  “Doll?” Walker repeated and I looked over my shoulder at him.

  He looked across the street—God, I had to hope he hadn’t noticed Carl—then looked down at me, studied my face.

  My eyes darted to where Carl was, but he was gone. I looked up and down the sidewalk on the other side of the street, but he was nowhere to be seen.

  Had he really been there? Had my mind played a trick on me? Was I so afraid of him following me that I was putting his face on strangers?

  “What’s the matter, Celia?” Luke asked. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

  Should I tell them? Should I let them know that their wife possibly had a crazy man after her? Would they even believe me? Would they change their minds about me, leaving me here in Denver? I’d rather be up in Slate Springs with a snowed-in pass, but that would only happen if they took me with them. I could tell them the truth, but later when I was sure Carl couldn’t get to me.

  A ghost? Yes, Carl Norman was a ghost and I had no idea how to make him go away.

  I took a deep breath, let it out, then smiled, although weakly. “Nothing. I thought I saw a familiar face, but it couldn’t be. I know only you two here in Denver.”

  The men didn’t seem so sure, continuing to appraise those on the sidewalk for a few more seconds.

  “We should be going to make it to Jasper before dark?” I asked, hoping to prod them back into motion. Chills ran down my spine and it wasn’t from the cold. The sooner we were out of Denver, the better.

  Luke patted my hand in the crook of his elbow and we continued on. This time, Walker walked beside me so I was flanked by two imposing men. I was reassured by their size and protectiveness, but I doubted it could keep Carl away.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Walker

  We rode into Jasper two hours after dark. Snow was falling so the route was bright, but I was ready to get out of the cold and into bed with our bride. She’d ridden on her own for most of the journey, but the last few miles she grew weary—not that she complained—and Luke coaxed her to ride with him and he held her on his lap and let her animal be tethered to mine. I was mighty jealous of him holding her, but I was also glad for the distance, for I would have interrogated her like a witness in court if she were in my lap. With my new resolve in our marriage, I was impatient to know about the man on the street. I was possessive and protective and I needed to know, but I had to wait. At least until we were all warm again and fed.

  She’d known the man, whoever t
he fuck he was. We’d watched her alight the train in Denver and had kept her well occupied, so she hadn’t seen him in town before. That meant she’d known him from before her arrival. Had he bothered her on the train or was he someone she knew from Texas? The way she’d reacted, equally stunned and afraid, was obvious to me, although she’d hidden it fairly well. That meant two things. She wasn’t expecting to the see the man and she wanted to keep him a secret.

  On the street, I’d glanced at Luke but he hadn’t seen the man. His gaze had been focused on Celia. The stranger had disappeared quickly, as if, like Luke said, he’d been a ghost. He was no ghost. I’d seen the man’s smirk, the roiling anger in his gaze, directed squarely on Celia, without question. Why? And who the hell was he?

  We’d find out soon enough, because a man like that, with anger directed at my wife, needed to be stopped. While I’d been reluctant to take a bride—especially because of the new town law—I’d given in because I wasn’t averse to the idea of a wife warming my bed again. But Luke had called me out when I climbed from the bed of a willing woman. From Celia. Hell, I’d been teaching her about ass play with my thumb. I was an asshole and an idiot, but I’d been fucking scared and panicked.

  What other reason would a man climb from the bed he shared with a naked and well-sated woman?

  I’d married Ruth when we were both so young. I’d thought it was love, but it had been youthful randiness on my part. She’d been beautiful and I’d wanted her in my bed. Ruth had wanted out of her zealous and strict parents’ house. So I made her mine and when I got her just where I wanted her, beneath me, she’d been… disinterested. I’d wanted to show her the fun that could be had in lovemaking, even some more unusual aspects of the act, but she’d gotten all she wanted. Escape. It had turned into a stale and empty marriage, but I’d vowed never to go through that again. To be bound to a woman for life, to a woman who kept you from love.