ROMANCE: Badass Boss (Billionaire Alpha Bad Boy Romance) (Western Mail Order Bride Calendar Contemporary)

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ROMANCE: Badass Boss (Billionaire Alpha Bad Boy Romance) (Western Mail Order Bride Calendar Contemporary) Page 59

by Susan Fleming


  Chapter 4

  Junior’s Response

  Dwight and Pauline Butler are sitting at the dinner table, enjoying their evening meal when they hear hooves approaching from a distance.

  “Who could that be, this late?” Dwight says aloud to his new wife.

  “I don’t know, baby,” she answers, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Things around the Butler residence have been especially worried since the events in McCulloch Street a few weeks ago. Dwight knows that the elder, Tyson Abrams, is crazy, and whenever he sets his mind to doing something, he pursues it with a vicious focus until it has been done, the consequences be damned. Dwight also knows that Tyson has set his sights on running Pauline out of town on a rail, and he controls a dangerous sect within the church community in Coleman County. If anyone could manage to discredit Dwight and make Pauline leave, it would be Tyson.

  For now, however, he is enjoying his honeymoon as best he can, despite the ruckus and craziness in town. Last week, he officially married Pauline, the gorgeous widow from Atlanta. Unfortunately, however, they were unable to share the wonderful moment with anyone other than his sister, Sandra, his daughter, Emily, and Dandy Darby, who witnessed the union before the Justice of the Peace. This has caused Dwight no small amount of frustration, because there was a large wedding party when he married his deceased first wife, Amanda. He feels that Pauline too is deserving of a huge wedding party, but instead she had to marry him in secret because of the actions and attitudes of one radical hypocrite.

  Dwight opens the front door to determine who is approaching, and at once he recognizes the pinto horse that Dandy rides. He steps out onto the front porch of his ancestral home and leans against the roof support, watching Dandy approach.

  “What’s going on, Dandy?” Dwight asks the younger man when he comes to a stop. Usually, Dandy would be home to Sarah Anne by now, so it must be important.

  “I got a telegram today, ‘Wight. From Junior.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, he and Ruth are coming back. He says that he’s going to sort Tyson out so we can live in peace.”

  “Do you really think he can stop Abrams?”

  “I don’t know, but I know that Tyson has never wanted a fight with Junior. I don’t know why.”

  “Well, let’s hope that Junior can shut that filthy dog up.”

  “Yeah…I just wanted to let you know. I need to get up to Atoka, Sarah Anne has probably got supper ready for me.”

  “Okay. Bye, Dandy.”

  “Bye,” he says, turning to ride away once more. Dwight enters the house and Pauline looks nervous.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Who was that?” she answers.

  “It was Dandy. He wanted to let me know that Junior is coming back.”

  “Oh, good. I must admit, I was worried.”

  “Yeah, first you have to get married in secret, and now you are scared of your own shadow because of that sonofabitch.”

  “It’s okay, honey…”

  “No! It isn’t okay! He needs to be shut up!” Pauline can see that Dwight has been bottling up his frustrations, and quickly walks around the table, hugging him from behind. Her large breasts press into the back of his head like a firm pillow, and Dwight feels his anger ebbing away at the touch of his bride. “I love you,” he says, much more calm.

  “I love you too, Dwight. I would have married you in burlap if it meant having you.”

  “I am definitely yours, Pauline,” he answers softly, turning to kiss her. She presses her lips to his mouth, but instead of a quick kiss, she slips her tongue into his mouth, instantly arousing him. Their dinner sits forgotten as the two newlyweds clutch at one another, ripping their clothing to shreds.

  Quickly, they are both naked, and Dwight flings everything off the table, laying his extremely attractive wife down on the wooden surface. He sits back in his chair, and proceeds to insert his tongue into Pauline’s dripping wet channel. He thoroughly tastes her essence, quickly bringing her to a climax, releasing even more moisture, which he thirstily takes into his mouth while Pauline’s hips write and roll in his hands. “Oh, honey! I love it when you do that!” she yells her pleasure.

  When she has calmed down once more, she sits up, pressing her mounds into his face, which he hungrily laps at with his tongue. She slides off the end of the table, and immediately settles down on his erect lance, sheathing his enormity in her cleft. She begins to ease up and down the length of his shaft while he sits in his chair, enjoying every second of the pleasure she gives him. He holds her large, firm hips in his hands while he continues to nibble and suck at the tips of her mountainous breasts.

  Several minutes later, Pauline screams out in orgasm once more while Dwight’s erection explodes inside her, filling her passage with his seed. They are both exhausted from the power of their respective orgasms, but continue to sit there, with his length buried inside her while they kiss and talk for several long minutes.

  Chapter 5

  The Proof

  Meanwhile in a room on the second floor of the Hanged Man Saloon, Tyson Abrams himself is pulling up his pants. He has spent the last thirty minutes fulfilling his most debased fantasies with the prostitute, Sally. She remains lying in the bed, hurting from the abuse she has received for coin, questioning for the first time her choice to service the horny men of Coleman County. True, she has never come across a customer with tastes so debased and horrific as Tyson’s, but she fears ever coming across another again.

  He did pay her well, however, as he had promised he would downstairs, and succumbing to his desires had the added benefit of refocusing him on the task of ruining Sandra Ammor’s plans to continue matching local bachelors with mail order brides from the east.

  “Thank you for that, nigger,” Tyson says, “Emily won’t ever let me do that to her.”

  “Well, you paid me,” Sally says, wincing. “Let’s look at that journal of yours.”

  “Fine, it’s in my coat, over there,” he says, indicating his duster in the corner. Sally stands, and walks naked over to the coat, searching the pockets for the small black book. When she finds it, she sits back down, her large chocolate breasts hanging free. She lights a cigarette, and waits for Tyson.

  When he is finally done dressing, he walks over and sits down beside her, a cigar clenched between his teeth, and together, they fill the room with smoke. He finally picks up the book, and turns back to one of the earliest entries, dated July 14th. “Do you want me to read it aloud?” he asks Sally.

  “Yes, I can’t read it myself.” Tyson clears his throat and begins to read:

  July 14, 1887

  I have decided to do something about the single men in this county. The single women who live here do not deserve husbands as good as many of the men who live here. My own brother, David, is a fine man, and would make a great husband for any woman, but he himself has told me that the women in Coleman County do not attract him for a variety of reasons, chief among them being the desperately low number of Christian women and the correspondingly high number of whores who parade bold as brass in the street. What man wants to marry a former whore who has slept with every man in the county at least twice? Not one.

  “Well, that makes me feel great,” Sally says sarcastically.

  “She has a point, nigger,” Tyson says viciously.

  “You weren’t complaining fifteen minutes ago!”

  “Because I don’t have to take you home, now do I? Now shut up!” Tyson spits at her, turning to another date, this one in August.

  August 2, 1887

  I have decided on my first match. Junior Parker is a fine man who is God-fearing and more than a little wealthy, but he has never married, and David says that this is because he is afraid that the women in the county will only want him for his money.

  I have to say that he’s likely correct.

  I recently picked up a copy of the San Antonio Star when I went with David for some tack. I read it over on the way home, and I have d
ecided to send a letter to a Miss Ruth Stafford, a stunningly pretty young woman from Charleston, South Carolina. If all goes well, I will send her money to buy a train ticket to the Coleman Station. I certainly do hope that she is not abject to marrying an older man, as she is only 19, and Junior is nearing forty.

  “Well, there you have it,” Tyson says. “Proof that Sandra is the matchmaker for two of the matches, and her brother was the third match! I’ve got her now!”

  “Good,” said Sally, still wincing.

  “Now, I think I want to celebrate. Lay down, nigger,” Tyson commanded her, undoing his trousers once more.

  “You only paid for once, Tyson. And I’m too sore right now.”

  “I said…LAY DOWN!” Tyson screamed, his eyes popping in his skull, smacking the naked prostitute hard in the face. Sally begins to scream as the animal forces himself on to her, reveling the sadistic power he has over the poor woman.

  Chapter 6: Dandy The Defender

  At the same time as Sally is being brutalized by the psychotic Tyson Abrams, her former patron, Dandy Darby, is walking into his front door where he immediately smells supper in a cast iron pan.

  “You’re late!” Sarah Anne says, visibly upset.

  “I know, honey, I’m sorry,” he says. “I had to ride to Voss to let Dwight know that Junior is coming back.”

  “You couldn’t have sent someone to let me know!” Sarah Anne says, tears filling her eyes. “I have been so worried about you!”

  “I know baby, but you’ve got to trust me when I say that I know how to take care of myself.”

  “I know you do, but I can’t bear the thought of something happening to you!” she says, sobbing through her thick Eastern Kentucky accent.

  “It’s okay, baby,” he says, hugging her. She is seven months pregnant, and the combination of her big belly and hormones are resulting in her being more emotional than is usual for her. “What’s for supper?” Dandy asks.

  “Rabbit with beans and cornbread,” Sarah Anne sobs into his shoulder.

  “Sound delicious. Is it ready?”

  “Yes, you need to go wash up,” she says, pulling away from him.

  “Okay, I will,” he says, stepping outside while Sarah Anne finishes frying the rabbit. Having grown up in the woods and hills of Kentucky, she was a crack shot with a rifle by the time she was eight years old, and killed this rabbit for the sin of eating the tomato plants in her garden. As she cooks, she tries to rub the tears out of her eyes, knowing that she is crying for a silly reason. When Dandy reenters the kitchen, she speaks.

  “You said that Junior and Ruth are coming back?”

  “Yes, they are.”

  “When did you find that out?”

  “Today. Junior sent me a telegram,” he answers.

  “Okay. Do you really think that he can get that mad-man to shut up?”

  “I certainly hope so. If I could, I would arrest him, but he hasn’t broken the law yet, so I can’t take him in.”

  “Well, he will before long.”

  “I agree. And when he does, I’m going to put him underneath the jail instead of in it. Wouldn’t that be funny though?”

  “What?”

  “I could shut him in the Atoka Lockup.”

  “Okay, and?”

  “He’s the jailer out there.”

  “Yes, that would be funny…so where will Junior and Ruth stay when they get here?”

  “Well, I wanted to ask you…since this house was Juniors, we could let them stay with us.”

  “Yeah, that would work.”

  “Is that okay with you.”

  “Yeah,” she answers. “Look, I want to thank you, Dandy.”

  “For what?”

  “For defending me.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Well, you once took a bullet for me, and you’ve been doing everything you can to shut up this Abrams fellow, so I want to thank you.”

  “Well, honey, I am your husband after all. It’s kind of my job.”

  “But it didn’t have to be…thank you.”

  “Honey, thank you…you’re my defender!”

  “I’m being serious!” she said, getting frustrated with him.

  “I know,” he says playfully and pulling her in for a hug. “If you want to thank me so much, you can.”

  “Good,” she responds.

  “But not verbally…” he says, grinning wickedly.

  “How then?”

  “By coming to bed with me, right now!” he says, pulling her by the hand toward the bedroom. Sarah Anne revels in her husband’s attraction to her, and immediately feels her slit begin to moisten, her lips filling with blood and becoming so sensitive that she can barely stand it.

  Dandy gently removes the only garment that she was wearing, and throws it in the corner of the bedroom, exposing her bare flesh and large, pregnant belly. He bends over and kisses the top of her stomach, where their baby is growing, its birthday quickly approaching.

  Sarah pulls his face up to hers, and kisses him deeply, as she turns and sits on the edge of the bed. Gently, Dandy lays her back, while he himself lays beside her, his left hand clenching her milk engorged breast. They continue to kiss until Sarah Anne finally lets out a soft moan of longing, and Dandy releases her mound, probing instead the growing moistness between her legs.

  As he softly slides his fingers into her, she lets out a gasp, and softly whispers, “Please baby…please fuck me…fuck me now…” which causes Dandy to stand and remove his own clothing. By now, his hunger for food has been replaced by a hunger for the sweet taste of his wife’s honey pot, and before he fills her cleft with the thickness of his erection, he pauses to suckle softly at the entrance to her passage.

  “Oh my, God!” she exclaims. “Please, don’t stop!” Dandy engulfs her nether lips with his mouth, sucking even more life into her already swollen entrance, and driving her mad at the same time. He slips his tongue into her, and she lets out a moan of ecstasy, filling his mouth with the sweet nectar that comes only from woman, and Dandy drinks his fill, lapping at every delicious drop.

  Finally, Sarah Anne’s hips are no longer rocking or rolling underneath him, and he stands, pulling her toward him at the edge of their marital bed. He gently slides the entire length of his throbbing shaft into her pulsating valley, and she is immediately consumed by powerful convulsions of orgasm once more. He starts to slowly slip in and out of her slick vessel, while her hips undulate in front of him. “Faster!” she begs him, and he obliges, hammering his virility into her with such force that her entire body moves with each thrust.

  Sarah Anne closes her eyes while her entire body is rocked by the power of her lover, who continually jams his iron pole into her again and again, without ceasing. Much as before, she can feel the power of gratification fill her, and she is unable to control herself when she screams out, “fuck me! My God, please just fuck me!”

  This arouses Dandy even more as he continually impales her with the force of freight train rolling down the line, unstoppable. He continually thrusts himself into her sex, even when it begins to quake a third time, clutching at his staff as if begging him to remain there forever.

  Finally, with a shriek that pierces the night air that surrounds their home, Sarah Anne comes to the pinnacle of pleasure a third time, drenching Dandy and their bed, soaking the entire area with the delicious scent of her folds. This alone finally brings Dandy to a climax, and with one final, powerful thrust, he explodes inside her glove, filling and then overflowing her valley with his sticky essence.

  Finally, they collapse together on the bed, neither one capable of getting up to eat the scrumptious dinner that sits on the table, getting cold.

  Chapter 7

  Something Noble

  Sitting in her home, Sandra Ammor is beginning to get worried. She has not seen her journal in over three weeks, before the ruckus on McCulloch St. took place. If it fell into the wrong hands, it could easily spell the end of her matchmaking,
because anyone who could read would know that she had been the one writing to young mail order brides back east, pretending to be the various men who they were going to marry.

  Of course, the best case scenario would be that she has simply misplaced her journal somewhere in the house she shares with her younger brother, and that no one would ever find that she is the matchmaker, and the worst case scenario would be that Tyson Abrams finds it and gets another mob together.

  Or that Dwight would find it.

  She swore to Dwight that she was not the matchmaker when he asked her the pointed question on McCulloch Street after he had talked down the Abrams mob several weeks ago. She had felt guilty about lying to her older brother, but she had to, didn’t she? She couldn’t let him get in the way of her noble work of bringing in some better women into this God forsaken county.

 

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