The Railroad Baroness

by The Railroad Baroness (lit)

“Good,” Conn said. “Love you, too, Delilah.”

  “And I love you, Lilly. I have some ideas on how we can make this work. If you don’t like them, I’ll think of something else until you do. Whatever it takes, this won’t end. Trust us?”

  Lilly shifted to her back so she could cup each man’s jaw in her hands. Drawing Conn forward, she kissed him sweetly. Then, looking deep into Charles’s eyes, she urged him to her and brushed her lips over his in a loving caress. “All right.”

  Epilogue

  San Francisco, July 1873

  “Will there be anything else, sir, madam?”

  “That will be all for now, thank you,” Charles said. The waiter, attired in strictest black with a blindingly white waistcoat, nodded and moved away from the table.

  The dining room was filled with people enjoying a late luncheon or treat of coffee and sweets from the well-stocked dessert cart. Sunlight shone through the large, multi-paned windows facing the bustling street. A steady throng of pedestrians strolled by, out for an afternoon’s shopping or errands or just to see and be seen.

  “I must admit, I am very intrigued with those open-sided passenger cars of Mr. Hallidie’s,” Lillian said as she tipped the silver teapot over Charles’s cup. Curls of steam floated up from the fragrant stream of amber liquid. “Can you imagine being one of the first passengers? How exciting.”

  Charles watched as she served and prepared her own tea. “It is intriguing, I’ll grant you, but I’d much rather observe their debut than be an active participant.”

  “Charles, you surprise me. A bold man like you shying away from a little risk.”

  “A little risk? Lillian, you’ve seen Clay Street, have you not? You wouldn’t catch me going up and down it in a horsed carriage, much less those cars pulled by metal cables. A horse at least has some self-interest in avoiding a crash.”

  “Now you sound like one of those faint-hearted souls who refuses to ride the trains because they’re afraid of a crash or boiler explosion or whatever.”

  Charles pulled a long-suffering face and let out a mock put-upon sigh that made her laugh. “If you really want to stay until Hallidie gets his Clay Street Hill Railway running, we can certainly delay our itinerary a few weeks. I’m sure Conn would love to document the debut.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it, darling, but you’re sweet to offer up the sacrifice.” Under the concealing skirt of the tablecloth, she touched the tip of her shoe to his leg and teasingly caressed him out of sight of the rest of the diners. He grinned at her over a forkful of cake. Lillian folded her hands innocently on the table for the benefit of anyone watching. “Besides,” she continued. “We’ve much to do. My father is expecting to see Conn’s photographs of the proposed construction sites and surrounding areas. As soon as he returns with the last of them, I’ll prepare the reports and we can set things in motion to buy the land for the first of the hotels.”

  “I’ve no doubt your father will be pleased with our selections.” Charles placed his hand on hers, stilling her fingers where they toyed with a silver spoon from the tea service. “Stop your fussing. Your plan to build a line of hotels linked with the rail company is a solid one. I have every confidence in you, as do Conn and your father.”

  “They will be nothing on the scale of this Palace Hotel we’ve been hearing about, of course. Much smaller, more personal.”

  “Just what the frugal, yet respectable, traveler needs,” he said. She was grateful he didn’t mention he’d heard it all before, as had Conn and her father and pretty much anyone else who got her going on the topic. She couldn’t help but be nervous, though. She didn’t want to let her father down. More important, the hotel line was the first project that truly belonged to Lillian and her men. The concept was theirs, worked and reworked until all three were satisfied. Each had their roles in it, and it cemented the idea of the three of them as a team, through business and friendship, in the eyes of the world.

  While completely unaware of the specifics of the relationship Lillian and her husband shared with Conn Maguire, Theodore Worthington, like everyone else of their acquaintance, had come to accept that whatever involved Charles also involved the Irishman. Conn was seen as a confirmed bachelor, so impervious to female wiles and matrimonial lures that he preferred to live and work out of a suite attached to the home of Charles and Lillian Lowell Adams. Eccentric, yes. Unusual, yes. But as his long-proven friendship with Charles was seen as a powerful bond, most accepted their arrangement without qualm. How a man chose to run his household was his business.

  Lillian rarely thought of Edward Yorke, her father’s onetime secretary who had lost his honor, his sanity and, ultimately, his life. But when she did, it was with the satisfaction of knowing he had failed to destroy her while she survived to be blessed by the love of two wonderful men. Perhaps it was petty of her, but there it was. She looked at Charles. He stared across the dining room, apparently interested in something beyond the dining room windows. He had grown a moustache, which she rather liked. A shade darker than his light-brown hair, it framed his lips in a very pleasing manner, she thought. His brown eyes caught hers.

  “And what are you smiling at, Mrs. Lowell Adams?”

  “You, of course,” she said. “What else?”

  “Well, naturally. A wife should stare adoringly at her husband. It’s expected of the weaker sex.”

  “I should have said something else. I don’t want you to get a swelled head.”

  He waggled his brows and said in a low voice just for her ears, “I thought you liked my swelled head.”

  “You are a very bad man.”

  “How fortunate, as you like that, too.”

  She laughed softly. He did have a point. “Oh,” she said, leaning toward him over the table in her excitement. “Aileen and her Mr. O’Brien are keen to manage one of the hotels.”

  “The letter you received yesterday?” he asked.

  “Yes. I can’t imagine what made it slip my mind.” She gave him a significant look.

  Charles’s eyes heated at the reminder of how they’d spent the evening, but he only said mildly, “Excellent. Do they have a preference?”

  “Not especially, although perhaps not too far down the line from Boston. Aileen would like to be able to bring the children to visit her mother without too much of a trip.”

  “We’ll discuss it with the O’Briens when we return home, then. I’m certain we can come to an arrangement that suits us all.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out his timepiece, and consulted it. “My dear, forgive me, but I’ve completely forgotten about an appointment. We must hurry if we’re to make it.”

  Lillian frowned. “What kind of appointment? You didn’t say anything about an appointment at breakfast this morning.”

  “It was something that came up rather suddenly. I’ll explain it all to you in the carriage I’ve ordered.”

  Mystified, but agreeable, Lillian allowed Charles to help her up and lead her out of the dining room into the sumptuous lobby of their hotel. Charles nodded in greeting to acquaintances, but didn’t stop to chat. The doorman held open a door and Charles whisked her through. Outside, he guided her to a rather large, old-fashioned covered carriage. The shades were drawn and it was impossible to see inside. Lillian was certain it could comfortably carry a good portion of the guests in the dining room. It looked entirely out of place in front of the upscale hotel.

  Lillian glanced at Charles. “It’s too bad you weren’t able to get an open carriage. It’s a lovely day for a ride.”

  “Perhaps that is something we can do later,” he said. Waving off the driver, Charles opened the door and handed his wife into the carriage.

  Lillian gasped as strong male fingers gripped her free hand and hauled her up the rest of the way. Startled eyes settled on the figure partially concealed by the gloom inside the ancient carriage.

  “Conn!” Squealing, she launched herself at him, barely noticing as Charles climbed in and closed and locked the door. The carriage l
urched into motion, sending her tumbling into the Irishman’s arms. He caught her easily, immediately hauling her against his chest. His mouth came down on hers like a starving man feasting at a banquet. When he ended the kiss, they both gasped for breath.

  “Conn,” Lillian said. “You weren’t supposed to arrive until tomorrow.”

  “Finished up early,” he said. “Sent Charlie a telegram and he said he’d arrange to have me picked up.” Grinning at his friend, he said, “To tell the truth, was going to thrash you for not bringing Delilah to the station to meet me, but this is nice, too.” He shifted Lillian in his arms, settling her more firmly on his lap.

  A thrill shot through her as she recognized the hard, very telltale length of his cock under her bottom. Nuzzling Conn’s neck, she nipped his earlobe and saw Charles watching with a very pleased-with-himself expression. “You do know how I like surprises,” she said to him.

  Conn cupped the back of her neck and tipped her face up to his. Again, he kissed her, only slightly more controlled as his tongue stroked inside her mouth, tracing her lips, touching her teeth, grazing the roof of her mouth. “Ah, Delilah,” Conn groaned. “I’ve missed you, love. Two weeks apart is two weeks too long. Charlie, next time you can take the away work.”

  With sure hands, he unpinned Lillian’s hat and tossed it aside. Nimbly, he began pulling the pins from her hair, freeing the long coils. Her hands roved over his chest, under his coat. His heart thumped strongly against her palm. They exchanged deep, wet kisses that she felt all the way to her soul. Oh, how she’d missed him. She felt Conn’s hands move over her bodice, easily freeing buttons and ties. Shoving it open, he began to unfasten her corset. Lillian wasn’t slow, either, flipping his buttons free until the panels of his shirt hung open and she could run her fingers through the coarse hairs over his strong pectorals and flat belly.

  Conn lifted his head. Lillian, not inclined to leave his taste for a moment, simply moved her lips over his jaw and down the cords of his neck. “How long do we have,” she heard him ask.

  “We’ve got as much time as you need,” Charles said. Slitting her eyes as she licked Conn’s throat, Lillian saw Charles on the seat opposite. The hands fisted on his thighs belied the relaxed sprawl, as did the deep-brown eyes that swam with barely controlled heat. “The driver will keep going around the city until I tell him to take us back to the hotel. I implied we had business to discuss, and didn’t want to be disturbed.”

  “Good,” Conn said, his voice vibrating with need. Urgently, he gripped Lillian’s thighs and shifted her until she straddled his hips. Her skirts, he unceremoniously bundled up around her waist. They both groaned as their pelvises pressed together, her softness meeting his hardness.

  With a few more quick adjustments, he was able to move her corset and shift out of the way, baring her breasts. The tight fit of the fabric framed them, forcing them together in twin pale mounds tipped by the hard, thrusting tips of her aroused nipples. His palms covered her. Lillian cried out, her hands going up to press his harder against her breasts. “Oh, Conn,” she said. Without further urging, he shaped and molded her breasts, tugging and pinching her nipples. “Love, that feels so good.”

  “Tastes good, too,” he said, hands catching under her arms until she rose up on her knees and he could take one thrusting nipple into his mouth. He growled as he suckled strongly at her breast, teasing her nipple with flicks of his tongue. Lillian held his head to her, rubbing her thumbs along the planes of his cheeks as they hollowed with the force of his sucking. He released her and moved to her other breast. As he lave that peak, she saw the wet gleam on her flesh and realized Charles must have lit the carriage’s interior lanterns.

  Charles, relaxed pose gone, sat straight in the corner of his bench. One hand still fisted his thigh, but the other cupped the obvious erection behind the placket of his trousers. His expression stark, he watched Lillian and Conn as if he couldn’t look away.

  It was hard to focus with every suck of Conn’s mouth on her breast sending shocks of pleasure to her core, but Lillian still asked, “Charles?”

  He smiled tightly. “I’m all right, Lilly. I’ve had you to myself for two weeks. Let Conn greet you properly.”

  Just then, Conn’s hand found the slit in her drawers and his fingers glided through the damp curls of her pussy to touch the tiny pearl of her clit. Lillian gasped, then bit her lip. Wickedly, he swirled his finger around and around the hard nugget of flesh. The combination of his taunting finger on her cunny and his devilishly talented mouth on her breast soon had her thrusting her hips against his, seeking relief for the passion that was taking over her senses.

  Without thought, Lillian scrabbled at his waist until she found the fastenings for his clothes. Roughly she tugged them open, lifted up slightly to give him room, then sighed in satisfaction when the steely rod of his cock slid into her palm. She ran her fist over him, barely able to contain him in her grasp, giving the bulbous head at the tip an extra squeeze. This time, Conn was the one who gasped. His mouth went slack on her breast and his breath fanned over her damp skin in harsh exhalations.

  Conn bore it for a few moments before cursing. “Christ, sweet Christ.” Tearing his hand free of her drawers, he gripped her hips and pulled her up until the tip of his cock met the entrance of her dripping cunny. Eagerly, Lillian held his shoulders, sinking her fingers into the fabric of his coat. “If it’s a fucking you want, Delilah, I’m yer man,” he said, accent so thick the words rolled together. With that, he simultaneously yanked her down and shoved his hips up, impaling her on his thick erection in one motion.

  He swallowed her scream of pleasure in his mouth. Holding her tight against him, he waited, motionless. When she subsided to whimpers, he released her mouth. He bit down on her bottom lip, just shy of pain. In a voice that sounded like it rolled all the way up from his belly, he ordered, “Now ride me.”

  With his strong hands supporting her waist, Lillian rode him. Holding his shoulders, she ground down on his cock, twisting her hips and pumping, faster and faster. Their breathing grew harsh, ragged. Lillian couldn’t stop the eager cries that escaped her throat. Conn tried to kiss her into silence, but it was apparent his mind wasn’t on the task. Lillian began to quake, arms shaking, thighs shivering, as the coil in her belly wound tighter and tighter. She glided up and down his slick shaft, bumping her clit against the base of his cock with each downward thrust, her lust spurred on by the rasp of his trousers on her inner thighs.

  “Conn, oh, Conn,” she chanted. And then it was too much. Her lower body convulsed. Pressing her face into the sweat-dewed curve of his neck where the masculine musk that was all Conn was strongest, Lillian screamed. Lightning raced through her body, releasing bolts of ecstasy that came one after another.

  The aftershocks seemed to go on forever. When the last one faded, she lay limp against his chest, arms loosely twined around his broad shoulders. Smiling, she rubbed her check along the column of his neck.

  Conn shuddered. His hands flexed on her waist and his head drooped to her shoulder. Another tremor shook his body. Lillian felt it deep inside, where his cock throbbed, hard and hot. Without asking, she knew what he waited for. Pushing herself upright, she looked into his dark, dark blue eyes. Kissing him softly, she whispered, “I love you.”

  Then, legs only a little unsteady, she rose from his lap. His cock slid from her body. It gleamed wet in the lamplight, a ruddy red pole. She trailed a finger down its length and he briefly closed his eyes. “Delilah,” he growled, voice full of warning. “I’m going to paddle you.”

  “Later, love,” she said. “It will be my pleasure.”

  Resting a hand on the wall of the still-moving carriage, she faced Charles. His features were tight with restrained passion. Sweat gleamed on his face and he breathed harshly through slightly parted lips. Lillian reached for him. He tensed as she unbuttoned his trousers. “But Conn,” he said weakly.

  “Is getting what he wants,” she said, reaching inside his t
rousers to release his cock from his underclothes. “And so am I.”

  Charles didn’t need any more urging. Pulling her down for a kiss, his hands went under her skirts to free her petticoats. She felt Conn assist him. The two of them made short work of her clothes, between them yanking off gown, bustle, corset, shoes, stockings and shift until she was naked for all but her embroidered drawers.

  Feeling shaky again herself, Lillian said, “This will take a bit of logistical planning. How fortunate that you ordered such a big carriage.”

  Charles tried for a grin, sensual anticipation putting an edge on it. “Why do you think I did?”

  “There is that.” Lillian shoved him down until his back met the carriage seat. Then, still wearing her slitted drawers, she crawled atop him and mounted his upthrust cock. She felt Conn settle on the cushioned seat just behind her, between Charles’s sprawled thighs. Unceremoniously, he ripped her drawers open, exposing her backside. Hand on her neck, he pushed her down until her breasts met Charles’s chest.

  Staring into her eyes, Charles cradled her face in his palms and kissed her. It was as soft and gentle as Conn’s was hard and demanding. They each thrilled her in their own way, each met a need she never knew she had. Until them.

  Conn’s fingertip touched her bottom hole. Lillian gasped and wriggled on Charles’s cock, and that made him gasp. Conn put a wide palm on the small of her back, holding her captive for his exploration. His finger met no resistance as he sank it into her anus past the second knuckle. He pumped it, twisted it. “My wicked, wicked Delilah. I’m going to sink balls deep into this sweet little hole. Just the way you love it. And you do love it, my little demoness, eh?”

  Lillian panted with excitement. “Oh, God.”

  He chuckled and entered her with two fingers. Charles trailed kisses over her cheeks and throat. Lillian struggled under Conn’s implacable hand to move, to pump, to ride Charles’s cock and Conn’s fingers.

  Conn leaned over her. She felt him, hair-roughened thighs and chest hot against her flesh, and distantly wondered when he’d stripped off his clothes. “What do you want me to do?” he whispered. His fingers left her and his cock touched her softened back passage. “Tell me, Delilah. That’s all you have to do.”