Billy listened in respectful silence and looked away in regret.
“See, I don’t care if you think of me as a whore or not. I reckon I did what I had to survive, just the same as you do. No sense in looking back in shame over that. If you ever damn well had to lift a finger to survive, which I doubt you have.”
“I see. Well I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Truth is, the moment I got here, Billy, I knew you were someone different. You didn’t snap and tell me what to do. You didn’t shove me into a bedroom and rape me. You were almost something close to a gentleman. Might have been perfectly romantic if you bothered to put on a shirt.”
Billy laughed.
“But just because a man is nice to me don’t mean I’m ready to fall in love. And I know you hear that, being a bachelor and all.”
“I know.”
Billy suddenly reached out and kissed her on the lips.
“Mmm!” she screamed, breaking the embrace quickly. “What are you doing, you crazy loon?”
“I’m kissing you, what does it look like?”
“Well I didn’t say you could kiss me.”
“I thought I saw a signal.”
“A signal? Ain’t you ever heard of getting permission?”
“What kind of fellow asks for permission? You just got to play that stuff by ear. Either a girl kisses you back or she slaps you in the face. Pretty clear signal then.”
“You jabbering idiot, I did not say you could kiss me.”
“Sorry,” he said, right before grabbing her and kissing her again.
This time though, she let him kiss her longer, enjoying the embrace and soft touch of his lips. He kissed her in a different way than any man had ever kissed her. Like a man honored to know her, ready to please her and not demanding anything just because he could.
She gradually broke the kiss, a slower reflex this time.
“Was that a signal?” he said softly, looking deep into her eyes and caressing her tortured soul.
With in an instant, she crinkled her brow and made a tight frown.
Sure enough, she slapped him across the face and slapped him hard. It’s what she felt at that moment, the moment she knew he was getting too close.
But just as soon as he felt the sting and the rejection—she backtracked, grabbing his face and kissing him back this time, twice as hard and lusty as he kissed her.
“Is that a signal?” he whispered in between gasping breaths.
“Shut up,” she muttered letting him kiss her again. It was a new feeling and something she had hardly ever felt before. A man desiring her, wanting to know her, perhaps even a man charmed by the woman Jane had become.
His mouth was steamy, fresh and her kisses were moist. His tongue touched her tongue and they mashed together so honestly, without pretention or reason. It was as if they belonged together, as if they knew and felt each other’s wants and needs in just that moment of passion.
He unbuttoned her shirt as they kissed fervently, eager to touch her—to give her the same pleasure she gave him. He almost felt challenged, as if he had something to prove. He nuzzled his lips to her neck and kissed all the way down to her chest. He loved hearing the snap of a button shirt as he ripped it clean apart and down the middle. She wore a black half-corset, which he topped off with fiery kisses, sampling the flavors of her chest.
She sighed in regret, already thinking this was moving too fast. “Maybe we should stop…” she said in a breathy voice, clutching his hair and grabbing him roughly so that his lips came deeper into her cleavage.
“Why?” he asked pulling her corset down and finding her right nipple. He licked a circle around her areola and then sucked up her nipple until it became hard.
“Mmmm…maybe we’re moving too fast…”
“What are you afraid of?” he said, sliding the other strap off and sucking her other bare nipple, loving the feeling of stiffness in his mouth.
“Uhhh…” she said looking into her eyes and feeling vulnerable.
“Do you like that?” he said, unbuckling her pants while he kissed the side of her face. She swooned and shut her eyes. It felt good to be touched, to be caressed and appreciated. But her arms were defensive, and she halted him by grabbing his wrists.
“Let’s go over to the bed.”
“No, maybe we shouldn’t…because you know,” she cooed as he pulled down her pants and rubbed his fingers over his belly and pubic bone. “Sometimes feelings can be deceptive.”
“I guess we’ll just have to trust ourselves to play it cool and not get sappy.”
“Uh huh…” she sighed, letting him unhook her half-corset. “But let’s not go to the bed…” she said, her voice cracking and her body shivering every time he put his strong hands on her sensitive lower stomach.
He pulled her corset off and kissed her on the lips again, this time inserting his fingers into her sweet, wet spot.
“Ahaaa…” she said with a closed-eye smile. “You’re not as innocent as you seem.”
“I’m a man born to please. A pretty woman is about the only life form I can get along with it, it seems.”
He rubbed her from the inside all the way from her deep wet folds out to her pink flower up above. He stroked her for a few long, gorgeous moments as she sighed to herself, losing track of time for just a moment—maybe even for once drowning out bad memories of yesterday. Billy Jameson really was different. A lady’s man for sure, but at least a gentleman. At least a man who knew his own strength and had no reason to prove himself to anybody.
He kissed a path of wet, hungry kisses up from her belly button to her breasts. He pressed her breasts together, kissing both sides as he continued tracing a path up to her trembling lips.
“Let’s go to the bed,” he whispered.
“Uh-uh,” she smiled. “I don’t trust myself with you.”
“But you trust me, right?”
“I trust that you know what you’re doing. I have no doubts of that.”
“Then just for a few minutes. Then we’ll stop.”
“Mmm…a girl’s got to be careful who she sleeps around with.”
Billy lifted her up into his arms and walked her over to the bedroom. “Not if she’s married,” she said. “And hey, we have the perfect cover for an accident, don’t we?”
He threw her on the bed and unbuttoned his shirt, showing his hairy chest and muscular pectorals and abs. She had so rarely stared at the beauty of a naked man. Her other “keeper” never undressed. When she saw Billy stripping down to his pants and pantsuit she smiled, feeling like a spoiled wife for the first time in her life.
He pulled his pantsuit down and showed her member—the same achingly red and long cock she stuffed into her mouth. This time he wanted to give it to her, to let her play with it as she wished.
She stroked it with her hands, rubbing it down and enjoying his grunts and cackles as she firmed him up.
She crawled down to meet him as he hoisted his body over her, finding her midsection and climbing on top. She spread her legs out far, preparing for a lunge. But he was gentle for a change. A slow but steady entry that took time caressing her sensitive walls. She was wet all over and enjoyed the sensation of wetting his dry cock with her juices, dripping down on him with attention and trust.
He began his thrusting rhythm slowly, pushing himself into her and letting the repetition continue naturally as if sensing the perfect timing for when she wanted another stroke.
“Mmmm…yeah…”
“You ready to take it deeper?”
“Mmmm…we shouldn’t…”
“I know it’s a very bad thing. But you tell me if it’s too much.”
“Okay…”
She gasped as he pushed himself a few more inches, leaving no spaces and a tight slippery squeeze.
“Oh I like that!” she cried, spreading her legs farther apart and grabbing him by the hair. “Unghh!” she groaned, clutching her legs onto his sides and trying to touch her toes together.
“Ohh that’s good,” she cried, her legs falling from a clutching position and her arms rubbing his side.
He fired up his “second gun” and began pounding harder into her pussy, reaching back into her deepest regions and coming out dripping wet and hot as tea. He panted and sweated as he began losing control, eventually grabbing her hands and clutching her fingers with his own.
“Ohhhh God!” she screamed, bending her knees and grinding against his fast-stroking cock as their bodies bounced off each other’s sweat and wet genitals.
“Mmmm!” Billy grunted, still gripping her hands right as he thrust himself into her, loving the feeling of listening to her rapid heartbeat.
“Don’t cum,” she said, finding his eyes. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“I can control myself if you can, angel-face.”
“Let me ride you,” she said confidently. “I can control it then.”
Billy was agreeable to anything the beautiful creature had said, the most stunning he had ever seen in her life—and maybe the one that had a filthier mind than even his own outlawed ass. He rolled over on the bed and grabbed his cock in standing position. He watched in surrender as she smiled at him and mounted him on top, pushing his hard dick inside of her pussy and flexing her brow as the thick meat went in deeper.
“Ohh shit, you’re so big. Not a lot of guys are so generous with their gift if you know what I’m saying.”
He laughed, taking the opportunity to grab and hold her bouncing breasts. “I figure if I’ve been blessed I better damn sure use it the way my girl wants me to.”
“Uh huh,” she said excitedly as she began gyrating over his vibrating erection, rolling over him at first until she saw agony in his eyes. He rubbed his hand on her small patch of pubic hair as she rode him, bringing out even more intensity from this hard loving woman who was hard to love—but worth every bit of worry.
She waited until he was about the burst and then started humping him harder, jumping up and down and letting her breasts smack him in the face, which his lips followed in desperation, trying to stuff her nipples in his mouth.
“Oh Billy…I think I’m going to cum…but you can’t cum…”
“Why not?” he answered, finding her eyes but not letting up on his pounding cock still meshing with her shifting pelvis.
“Because…what if we have an accident. And we ain’t exactly a married couple are we?”
“Damn girl,” he said with a smile as he began shoving himself into her at a faster pace. “You worry too much. Worry about tomorrow, tomorrow. Just trust me when I say I am a scoundrel and outlaw and red-headed brat…but always a gentleman.”
“You don’t understand…”
“I understand,” he said, grabbing her hands again and making sure she had no leverage to escape what was coming.
“Mmmm!” she screamed riding him hard and feeling his throbbing cock starting to break. “You don’t understand…I’m going to cum…and make you cum…”
“Let it go. Let it all out, cow girl.”
“Mm-mmm!” she said, stopping the thrusting but convulsing all over her body, crashing his weakening cock down on another wave of lubricant and a soft pink squeeze. “Oh God! Ohhh motherfucker I’m cumming!”
Just as she said it, Billy’s cock buckled and he fired six rounds of his seed into her wetness, grunting and groaning like a man who just been dueled and left to die. He never let go of her fingers, making damn sure her pussy took every last spurt he had to give. Tomorrow be damned. Some good things in life are just worth a crazy risk.
She humped him a few more minutes, unable to get rid of his stubbornly stiff cock even if it was firing blanks by now. She rubbed his chest with her hands, cooing and panting like a hard day out on the ranch. He was a hard project for sure, a fixer upper and the most stubborn beast she had ever met.
But as she finally let a bellow of breath go, and fell down on top of him kissing him lips with over-eager love and devotion, she realized something pretty close to romantic.
“You called me your girl,” she said with a dopey smile, finding his love-drugged eyes. “What did you mean when you said, always a gentleman?”
“What do you think it means, crazy cowgirl?” he said, rubbing her sweaty breasts with his still pussy-covered hand. The filth, the natural state of bodies meshing together was intoxicating to the outlaw Billy Jameson. Better than whiskey, better than gambling. And with a girl who knew what she was doing, maybe even better than sex without commitment.
“It means that if you ever became with child, I’d be a gentleman. And I’d take care of our imaginary child that came from this imaginary marriage.”
She smiled, a bit guardedly, but still hoping that she was the one mail order bride who had lucked out and landed herself a real man.
“But don’t be thinking that you want to settle down and marry me yet. You just got here. And the marriage certificate ain’t even signed yet. I’m sure you’ll need some convincing first before you do something foolish like marrying the outlaw Billy Jameson. How about we limp along for a while and then see how things work out? Maybe some day you’ll even re-marry me, if I may be so bold.”
Jane smiled and kissed him again, too teary-eyed for words.
*
Billy Jameson finally found his rascally old father. The man had sure as hell had been avoiding him after sticking him with a mail order bride he didn’t ask for. That slimy old fat bastard even made Billy pay the bill!
“You yellow bellied mother fucker,” Billy said, looking pissed as he encountered Sheriff Jameson in Town Centre. “How dare you invade my life. Buying me a mail order bride just to prove some stupid point about responsibility. I have half a mind to duel you now, right in front of everybody.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re entitled to feel that way. But just so I know…how’s she working out?”
“She’s all right. But that ain’t the point, and you know it.”
Sheriff Jameson smiled. “I’m sure I can get a refund if she’s not working out.”
“Don’t concern yourself with any of that. Just know, you try anything funny like that again and that’s it. I’m going to make your life miserable.”
“Well, a father’s allowed once chance to muck everything up, isn’t he?”
“Yeah, well this is your last chance. I’m serious.”
“So when do I get to meet her?”
“She’s making a big old dinner for everybody. She cooks like a machine. She’s pretty as hell and the hardest-working woman I’ve ever known.”
“Mm, sounds like a keeper, that one.”
“Yeah well you lucked out, old man. You found one in a million. Damned if I’m letting a lovely girl like that get away from me.”
“You’re welcome, boy. You’re welcome.
THE END
The Cowboy’s Ebony Mail Order Bride
Carl Gillipsy was an oil man and they said his father and his father and his own father, well, they were just the epitome of old southern evil. Carl’s father was alive to see racial discrimination in the sixties and his father was alive to see the real segregation of the 1900s. And his father was a true blood soldier of the Confederate Army even though those boys quieted up during the late nineteen century, at least for a while. His father before him owned slaves in the days preceding the Civil War.
Gillipsy himself they said was evil because he was his father’s son and because he was an oil man, the preferred career of the Republican-owned, Koch-sucking Grand Old Party. Gillipsy worked his way up from petroleum landman to Right of Way Agent and eventually founded his own continental oil company, and the family motto—unofficially of course—was at least it’s all American-made, as if that was the only good thing you could say about Gillipsy Oil.
Carl though wasn’t like forefathers when it came to sales. He had a way with words but not so much a way with people. A
ll people knew about Carl was that he came to the Town of Granfork, minded his own business, and had the biggest Stetson hat you ever saw.
When it came to dealing with people one on one that was just a whole other matter.
“Well, well,” Nancy Doltraine the middle-aged cashier said, eyeing Gillipsy as he entered the department store, always dressed well in his black suit and black raincoat. Whenever it was cold or wet, he always wore a coat. Lately winter had been long for Granfork County. “Looks like you’re all dressed up and nowhere to go.”
She smiled at first in friendliness, but then in forced enthusiasm, eventually melting into sheer terror. She realized that this wasn’t just another shopper for coats and boots. This was someone important—the kind of guy who could buy the whole store just out of spite for dealing with a rude cashier.
“It’s you,” she said, blinking her eyes and sighing. “Hello Mister Gillipsy.”
“Good afternoon,” he said in that even-tempered and somewhat distant manner. His face was indeed ubiquitous around the town and in the nearby cities of Austin and Georgetown and all the way down to Houston. His face graced the cover of every Texas magazine and every Google News story this side of creation.
“I’m here to buy a new coat. Something a bit light. Spring is fast approaching.”
She smiled as she looked into his face; a human face, yes, and a clean and handsome one since Gillipsy had only reached the age of 36.
But his aura was intense. His non-enthusiasm was brutal, as if his firm mouth and chin were a constant reminder to remind everyone that he didn’t need them. They needed him and his money all but paid for their micro-economy.
“Oh yes you are correct on that, sir. No sense in a man like you being overdressed.”
“Well,” he said, always happy to correct a misstatement. “I prefer to think that it’s cautious and respectful to be overdressed. And not insolent by being underdressed.”
Bought By The Highlander (Scottish Highlander Romance) Page 20