A Red Hot Valentine's Day

by Jess Michaels

  A Red Hot Valentine’s Day

  Lacy Danes, Megan Hart, Jackie Kessler, and Jess Michaels

  Contents

  Part 1

  Torn Desires

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  by Lacy Danes

  Part 2

  Get There

  by Megan Hart

  Part 3

  Hell Is Where the Heart Is

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  by Jackie Kessler

  Part 4

  By Valentine’s Day

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  by Jess Michaels

  Credits

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  Part 1

  Torn Desires

  by

  Lacy Danes

  To the two men who inspired this story;

  Without you, this story would not be…

  Lacy

  To Eric,

  Thank you for your unwavering support…

  and editing skills! Grin.

  We have been through so much, and this is proof we can

  and do work well together.

  Hugs and kisses and so much more,

  Lacy

  To my wonderful Mom and Dad.

  I love you always.

  Hugs and kisses,

  Lacy

  To my friends and fellow authors: Eden Bradley, Lillian Feisty,

  Eva Gale, Crystal Jordan, and Shelli Stevens.

  You are the best friends a girl could ask for.

  Thank you for making me laugh, cry, smile, and boogie down.

  Kisses,

  Lacy

  12th Day of September

  In the year of our Lord, 1822

  Miss Anne Cathcort,

  I have come to the point in my life that I am now in need of a second wife. My first wife passed over two years hence and left me with my son and heir.

  Some particulars on the woman I seek:

  I am looking for a well-bred woman. Title and estate are not necessary.

  A woman who already has a child of her own. One child preferred over more, though women with additional children, if all other qualities are present, will be considered.

  A woman who knows how to be a loving good mother.

  She must have a cheerful disposition and have expertise in the marital act. She shall not shy away from anything I may ask in this realm. I am quite vigorous and I am in search of a woman who enjoys the same.

  These qualities in one woman I have had a hard time finding in my own search. I wish to employ you and your greater search techniques.

  The Earl of Quinton.

  Chapter 1

  “Do you have to go?”

  Sophia rolled over on her side and stared as Quinton pushed from her and sat up. “Yes I do, Sophia. We talked about this. I need to go. My son is expecting me to help him with his toy boat.”

  His son was his excuse this time….

  Stop Sophia! His son is important. You know that. She pushed up onto her hands. The covers slid down to pool about her stomach as her dark brown hair spilled in a mass of unruly curls. She hated her hair, but at this moment it provided a much needed veil against Quinton’s eyes. She stared as Quinton pulled up his breeches and slid the button through the holes at the waist. He was beautifully built; stocky with a broad chest and large powerful thighs. He certainly did not spend his days idly. Her brow pinched tight. What did he do all day?

  “Don’t give me that look, Sophia! You know how much I hate that look.”

  She tore her gaze away from him but she couldn’t keep it away. Her gaze snapped back as he pulled his cotton shirt over his head, hiding his hairy chest from view. She so loved to play with the tiny curls as her head lay on his shoulder and she listened to him breathe. She loved those moments…skin to skin.

  He tucked his shirttail into his waistband.

  He did need to go. She simply hated that they never did anything besides this.

  “Pardon my behavior, Quinton. I simply wish you didn’t always rush off right after bedding me. It makes me feel…well like futter is all you came here for.” Tears welled up in her eyes and her heart pinched.

  “Not true, Sophia. I enjoy your company. You are my lady. I simply need to head home; Gretchen will only entertain Jake for so long before she needs to head home to her family. You know that.”

  A deep sigh pushed passed Sophia’s lips. Dash it all, Sophia, stop being so childish. She settled back on the mattress and watched as he buttoned up the top buttons of his shirt. He has family obligations and I do not. He needs to go and you know that.

  “I will see you tomorrow, my lady. You know one day you will be precisely that.”

  Her lips curved into a smile. Indeed, yes, she wanted to be his lady. The lady of Elm Place. It had been almost a year since he started pursuing her and almost two since his wife’s death. Surely he wished for a mother for Jake sooner rather than later.

  Unease flipped her stomach. Things between them always seemed a bit off…not quite true between them.

  He walked toward her and bowed his head, “Until tomorrow, my lady. Shall we picnic on Crest Hill?”

  “Oh yes! That would be delightful.” Maybe she was wrong. They did spend time doing things out of the bed. They simply seemed so far removed.

  Quinton pulled on his tall black boots and buttoned his waistcoat. He grabbed his deep gray greatcoat off her chair by the door and draped the garment over his forearm, smiling down at her. “You are beautiful Sophia. I am still in awe that you have cast your favors on me.”

  He leaned in and kissed her hard on the lips. She relaxed into the harsh pressure and little waves of light flashed to her eyes. Her toes curled and she grabbed hold of the loose fabric on his arms.

  “Mmmm.”

  His lips pulled away and his hands grasped hers on either side. He pulled her fingers from the cloth of his shirt. “Enough, Sophia. I shall never leave if you do not let go.”

  He stared down at her and attempted to frown, but his lips kept twitching up.

  “Ha! Would not leaving be so horrid, Quinton?”

  He turned away from her and walked toward the door “We have discussed this before, Sophia. I will see you tomorrow.” His boots sounded on the wood floor of her small cottage. The door opened and then he was gone.

  She lay and stared at the cracks in the plaster ceiling. A small part of her didn’t really believe Quinton was interested in her for his lady. Why would he be?

  She had made the mistake of allowing him to bed her. She grinned. A wonderful mistake.

  Her hands trailed down her stomach to the swollen lips of her cunny. His cock fit in her so wonderfully. Her fingers wandered farther down her slit to the bed linens and the large wet spot she lay in. That spot was one of the best sensations she ever experienced. A mistake all the same.

  George had taken her innocence on their wedding night, but they never reached the kind of bliss she had with Quinton. She barely knew George before he went off to fight for king and country.

  She squeezed her eyes shut. What did he look like? His short blond hair, sparkling blue eyes, and his tall lean figure came to mind.

  She sighed. She wished she could remember him better. She was thankful she had this home because of him. She had no dowry and could not have survived longer living with so many siblings underfoot. He had rescued her and gave her t
his life.

  She rolled onto her side and sat up. Well she certainly could not spend the rest of the day in bed. There were things to do in this life she had, and the sun and dirt were calling to her.

  Alistair sat across from Anne in her overdone plush carriage. He shook his head and stared out the window. How in damnation had she talked him into coming with her to the country, to the estate of a gentleman whom he didn’t know?

  He inhaled long and deep through his nose, hoping to settle the unease in his stomach.

  “Stop scowling, Alistair. This is supposed to be relaxing for you. Remember?”

  Oh, so that was the reason. He needed to relax. How this was going to relax him he certainly had not a clue. He found fencing and playing cards relaxing. Not inhaling the smell of cows and talking wife business of Anne’s.

  “Indeed my memory is sharp, Anne. I simply do not have a clue how you got me into this carriage on the way to a place I have no desire to be.”

  “Well, dear. If you don’t remember, then I shall have to remind you.” She reached across the seat and placed her hand on his cock. “Besides you said you would protect me and my girls, as Lord Quinton has a reputation.”

  Protection? Indeed. He would protect any one of the girls he bedded, and Anne certainly knew how to use her hands…. His cock flooded, stretching the skin taunt. “Mmmm. I suppose I should stop thinking with my pego because this trip I have the feeling will drive me daft in the attic. Did you smell the cows as we passed that last farm?” Bile rose in his throat just at the thought of it.

  Anne’s fingers undid the buttons to his breeches and her knowing hand slid inside, freeing his hard erection.

  He shifted his hips and pressed his need toward her. Futter in the carriage would make things only marginally better, but better was the only way to go.

  Her hand wrapped about his shaft and she gripped. His shoulders relaxed and he closed his eyes letting her do what she was so good at.

  “Only have a few moments before we arrive, Alistair. So I will not be able to give you a proper release. Do you still wish me to continue?”

  “Right you will and you will give me release if I have to keep you in the carriage with the footmen rushing about.”

  “You rogue.” She hissed as her lips came down on his cock and sucked him all the way back deep into her throat.

  He fisted his hands on the seat, then slid them up into her hair. He grasped her head and thrust up, controlling the stroke and the depth of her oral delights.

  Her tongue swirled and saliva drizzled down his length. “Uh, Uh.” Each press into her mouth sent pleasure pulsing through his soul. This is what he lived for. This is what relaxed him and was the only thing Anne provided him with. Well that and friendship…and for him that was all he knew.

  “Uh, Uh.” Her tongue fluttered into the eye of his head. His buttocks clenched and his legs jerked. He wanted to be buried deep in her cunt, making her scream so the footmen heard. But he knew better than to ask that of her on this trip. Besides, she certainly didn’t have a sponge in on a carriage ride to a visit a client.

  “Take me deep, Anne.” She slid forward and he pressed her head down all the way until the soft flesh on the back of her throat touched the tip of his cock head.

  She gagged.

  “Uh…yes.” He wanted to thrust deep into her. “Sit back and lay on the seat so I can thrust into your mouth, Anne.”

  She slid back, her black hair amazingly still pinned up in perfection. He never understood how she did that. He kneeled down on the floor of the cab and put one of his feet up on the bench she lay on.

  She licked her lips and opened her mouth. His cock, still glistening from her saliva, twitched, and he placed the tip to her plush lips. She angled her head and he slid into her.

  Each press, his thrusts grew harder and faster. Her lips glided over his hardness like oiled flesh. The light futtering taps of her tongue flicking all about his peg made his seed rise quickly. Anne knew exactly how to please him. He braced his hands on the wall of the cab.

  His buttocks clenched. Anne groaned. The vibrating sensation pushed him over the edge. His head grew light and his sack tingled. A quick jolt pulled the carriage to an abrupt halt, tossing him back from Anne’s sweet depths and onto the carriage seat he had resided on. His cock glistened with Anne’s saliva and his muscles clenched on the verge of release.

  “Damn it. What is going on?” His cock twitched and he clenched his teeth in outrage at the denial of his spend.

  Anne laughed and sat up on the carriage seat. “I am uncertain, Alistair.”

  His blood raged and all thought concentrated on his twitching peg.

  “Bo! Come here, Bo! Get out of the carriage’s way!” A woman’s voice came from outside the carriage.

  A dog barked and barked.

  “Bo! Come here, Bo!”

  “Damnation. A stupid dog denied me my pleasure.” Alistair hastily buttoned up his breeches and sprung to the door. He pushed it open and hopped down. Mud spattered up his boots and his pantaloons. He rolled his eyes and blew out a tense breath. Where was that blasted mutt? His hands fisted in want to strangle that dog.

  His feet hit the ground and he strode forward.

  “Ma’am, please remove yourself from the road. We need to pass.” The driver’s shrill voice pierced Alistair’s ears.

  “No worries, Jenks. I shall remove her and the mutt myself.” His teeth ground together as all the pleasurable sensations he had raging through his body turned to anger.

  He rounded the last of the four horses. There running about the road was a woman with dark brown hair pinned up. She ran chasing after a small black-and-rust-colored puppy.

  The scene, if he had not just been denied his pleasure, would have made him laugh. She chased after the mutt. The mutt ran from her. Her face, a delicious shade of scarlet, either from embarrassment or from exertion, shot heat through his gut.

  “I am so sorry, sir. If I could catch him, I would remove him myself.”

  “Stop chasing him. He thinks it is a game,” Alistair growled.

  She continued as if she had not heard him, which was a distinct possibility. Women often paid him no mind. He strode forward and wrapped his arms about her firm waist.

  She jumped and pulled away from him as he hoisted her up into the air. “Wh—what are you about?” Her legs and arms struggled and thrashed thudding against his frame.

  An utterly feminine floral scent filled his senses and all of his muscles locked. Her thighs brushed along his front and her calf firmly rubbed his pego.

  His cock wept in his trousers and his balls contracted. Insufferable! Damnation! He was too close to spending. A slight strain developed in his sack. He shifted uncomfortably.

  He didn’t even truly know what this chit looked like and he wanted to spread her legs to the side of him and burry his peg deep in her pussy. He held in a cringe. See what happens, Alistair, when you do not spend you become uncivilized.

  The puppy growled and nipped at his ankles. He gritted his teeth. Having raised five pups from his bitch Grete, he knew full well this mutt would not cease. He was sorely tempted to kick the whelp.

  He spun about and strode from the road. At the side, he ever so slowly lowered her back to earth. Her body slid down his rock hard erection. There was no way she had not noticed the press of his sex along her body.

  She staggered back and placed her hands on the top of the rock wall lining the road. The puppy placed himself firmly between them. She stared at his breeches.

  “Ma’am.” His voice came out deep, aroused, annoyed. “Please do keep your mutt out of the road or a carriage shall run him up.”

  She continued to stare at his breeches, then slowly looked up at him.

  Beautiful. Wild curls sprang in rings about her round doll face. Eyes, deep as the fresh grass she stood upon. Tingles raced up his neck in anticipation of—

  “Pardon, sir.” Her face grew incredibility red as she stared him straight i
n the eyes. “Your um…” Her plush red lips parted and her tongue darted out. “Your umm…button’s undone.”

  Alistair glanced down to see the tip of his stiff peg poking through the side of his flap.

  He scowled, and with the side of his hand pushed his peg back into his pants. What did it matter really?

  She smiled and cocked her head to the side. “I was in my garden here, sir, and we heard the carriages and Bo simply bolted though the gate. I shall do better from now on.” Her hand rose and rubbed her cheek smearing dirt across the porcelain white surface.

  He swallowed hard. She even made dirt look appetizing. Indeed he would have her on her hands and knees in her garden, as she pulled weeds or whatever women did there. Ummm… He would flip up her skirts and slide so slowly into her wet cunny from behind. A moan burst from him and he coughed to cover the sudden sound.

  The smell of long, sweet, sweaty sex, mixed with the floral tones on her skin assaulted him. She had recently futtered.

  He held back the urge to reach down between her legs to see how swollen her pouting ruffles were. Would she mind if he simply lifted her skirts right here and diddled her against the wall?

  “Alistair.” Anne’s laughing tone came from the carriage. “Thank you for taking care of our…obstacle. Now shall I move on without you and let the little miss take care of your needs? Or shall you be joining me?”

  A laugh burst from his chest. Only Anne would say such a thing as if it were normal and proper. “Pardon her ma’am. She is quite of the fallen variety.” He glanced over his shoulder at the carriage. “Where is this damned Elm Place anyhow, Anne?”

  “Oh!” The woman in front of him raised her hand and pointed to the dense line of shrubs abutting the stone wall. “There is Elm Place, sir.”