Corbin's Bend Homecoming

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Corbin's Bend Homecoming Page 68

by Ruth Staunton


  He reached for her and Thunder snorted. Maybe it wasn’t just Mrs. Carson she liked. “I think Thunder”—Felicity and the horse both bared their teeth and he winced—“Miss Thunder, I mean, is a horse who prefers female riders.” There’d not been any other women on the ranch, so he hadn’t noticed. Tipping his hat back on his head, he sought to regain the ground he’d lost. “And I’d be mighty pleased if you’d ride her anytime you like. In fact, please consider her my gift to you.”

  In a quicksilver change, Felicity leaped at him and twined her arms around his neck, showering him with kisses. “You darling! You couldn’t have given me a better gift if you’d shopped in all the stores in the world.” Then she paused. “But I’m sure she was very expensive. You can’t afford to be giving away valuable animals.”

  “First, according to my publisher and accountant, I can afford much more expensive gifts than these.” Sadness filled him at the thought of what had almost happened to these two horses. “And, second, I bought them at auction. Lightning was my mount at the ranch and he and Th—Miss Thunder were moments from being sold for pet food. I got them for a bargain price.”

  Felicity buried her face in his shirtfront, her tears soaking it. “I can’t even process that. And I went into a snit because I thought you hadn’t told me you were leaving.” She sniffed and looked up at him. “Even with an emergency mission like this, you did leave me a message. I don’t deserve you.”

  What a woman! He stroked her cheek and tucked a lock of dark hair behind her ear. “We don’t have a lot of time, but if you want, we can take a quick trail ride before dark.” He wouldn’t even need the rental he’d arranged for her. Still… “If you’re sure Miss Thunder isn’t going to be too much for you. I can tell you love horses, but do you have much experience on horseback?”

  Stepping back, she swiped away the tears on her face. “I will have you know I placed first in class nearly every time I competed in dressage as a child and then a teen. I am used to an English saddle, but I think I can manage whatever tack you have.” Her eyes sparkled. “I’m starting to think you’re my fairy godfather instead of my cowboy lover. You make all my dreams come true.”

  Together, they prepared the horses for riding, John watching for any signs of aggression from Miss Thunder, but to his great pleasure, the horse behaved as calmly as he’d ever seen her around Mrs. Carson. Getting her loaded in the trailer and unloaded into the stable had been a challenge for him, with her pulling and bucking and trying to nip his shoulder. Yet, for Felicity, the tall horse behaved like an innocent lamb.

  She stepped into the stirrup and swung her other leg over the saddle like a professional and the mare never moved. Reassuring. As they trotted along the path past the barn and toward the rolling foothills behind, he admired her straight back and easy, loose hands on the reins. She wasn’t kidding about her comfort on horseback. “What made you give up riding?”

  She patted the horse’s neck and bent close, breathing the scent and sitting back up with a sigh. “Medical school. I went away to Boston and had to leave Lollipop behind.” She flashed a look at him that would have burnt him to a crisp if he’d been the subject of her anger. “But we didn’t sell her for dog food. My parents gave her to a little girl who hung around the stables and loved her. They even paid for her boarding because Angie’s parents couldn’t afford to.” She shifted a little in the saddle. “First time I’ve ridden with a butt plug in, though.”

  His cock throbbed at the reminder. “And how do you feel about that?”

  “It’s a tossup between wanting to ride all night and wanting you to ride me all night.”

  “Happy to accommodate you, ma’am.” If the long shadows of late afternoon hadn’t been sending a chill through the air, he’d have pulled her from the saddle and bent her over the nearest boulder. A gentleman would not think like that.

  Lucky he was a cowboy.

  Chapter 10

  The gavel’s coming down? Audrey glanced around in a panic. Besides the door, blocked by the seedy guy who’d entered, only a small window offered any way out, and it was a long way down to the street. The feeling of being in over her head grew. She clutched her hands to her middle to keep her stays from falling away but Madam Mona slapped at them. “Don’t be silly, girl. In a few minutes, some man is going to see a lot more.”

  “What? No! What do you mean?” Panic closed her throat and the words squeaked out. “What gavel?”

  Mona’s laugh sent a chill down her spine. “Since you’re not going anywhere, and the men around here like a little fight, I don’t mind telling you your career starts tonight. As soon as someone forks over a pile of money, your virginity goes to him.”

  Audrey tried to shrug the woman away but Mona’s fingers were like claws, jerking her stays and grasping the hem of her chemise. “Leave me alone!”

  A roar came from below and the woman nodded in satisfaction. “I guess that’s it, then. I was going to get you all fixed up for your first customer but if you don’t want to cooperate, you can stay as you are.” She shook her head. “I wanted to make it special for you. No man in this town is going to appreciate the niceties anyway. He’ll just pull your legs apart and poke you. In ten minutes, he’ll be done, and you’ll be ready for the next one.”

  Bile rose in Audrey’s throat but before she could react, the roar was replaced by crashing and shots fired, a general chaos that had even the madam’s face creased with concern.

  “What the heck is going on down there?” She patted her hair and lifted her breasts to show better in her neckline and started for the door. “I’d better go find out. These menfolk always get so out of control when a virgin comes up for grabs. Ned, stay outside the door and, if anyone tries to get to our new little flower, shoot ’em.”

  Felicity shoveled the last of her chicken and dumplings into her mouth and patted it with a napkin. Across the table, John stood and lifted his bowl. “About done?”

  She nodded. “Unless there’s dessert?” She offered a hopeful grin, but he took her dish and carried them both to the sink.

  “Dessert is you.”

  She shivered, her interest in food shifting to darker things. The plug in her bottom seemed to swell, reminding her of its presence and making her wonder if he would consider her prepared enough tonight to take her there or if he had other plans in mind.

  Returning from the sink, he sat back down and extended a hand. “Come here.”

  Other plans.

  Licking a last droplet of gravy from her lips, she stood and skirted the table to stand before him. “You didn’t trust me earlier, accused me of leaving you without a word.”

  She nodded.

  “Do you trust me now?”

  Of course she did!

  “If you do, pull your jeans down and lie across my lap without asking any questions.”

  A burst of heat flooded her. Also a hundred questions. For punishment or pleasure? Would he use his hand or something else? Would he make use of her back passage when they finished?

  Would he allow her to worship his cock with her mouth, finally?

  “No questions.” At least none spoken. Unbuttoning her pants, she slid them down to her calves and indicated her thong. It wasn’t easy to communicate without asking things aloud. But he seemed to understand.

  “Leave it for now. It’s not in the way of a good spanking.”

  Felicity started to bend, but he said, “Bring me the bunch of spoons and things from the counter.” See? Yet another question answered without being asked.

  Reaching the other side of the room with shuffling steps, she lifted the crock of cooking implements and considered the possibilities. Wooden spoons, a spatula, some sort of coily thing she thought might be for making scrambled eggs… She might not know the specifics but could be reasonably sure he would use more than his palm to warm her backside.

  And, a trickle of cream gliding down her thigh, she passed him the crock and positioned herself across his lap, ready for dessert.


  Felicity braced her fingertips on the floor, her beaded nipples scraping her lace bra. A long moment passed while her anticipation built until she was afraid she’d come without even being touched.

  Finally, he rested a warm hand on her left cheek, its weight feeling like so much more than it could be. “I have pictured you here so many times, in my arms, in my wagon bed… over my lap. I never thought it would be more than a dream. I’m at least fifteen years older than you and I know I look older from all my years on the range.”

  She parted her lips to protest then stopped. Felicity wanted to hear what he had to say. If having her on his lap made this man open up, if she could learn more about him, she’d control herself for once, and let him talk.

  “Leaving the ranch about broke me. If I hadn’t already started writing, I’d have had no way to make a living. If I hadn’t heard about Corbin’s Bend from a cattle buyer a year or so ago, I’d have had nowhere to go. So I was mighty grateful to settle in here and try to heal.”

  He squeezed her cheek and another surge of arousal flooded her, but she tried not to move, not to do anything to stop him from sharing his thoughts with her.

  “But, while I hoped I’d find someone to pass the time with, someone for fun and spankings, and I believed I’d found the place to meet ladies who’d enjoy a date like that, somehow I never even went out and met people. Sure, I went to the store, and I’ve been on one book tour since I’ve been here, but it was like the heart went out of me. Do you know what I mean?”

  A hot tear dripped onto the floor, followed by a second. She knew. But she stayed silent. Let him share.

  “The ranch was my only home, since I was first on my own. The Carsons treated me like their own kid. I never had real warmth at home. My parents loved us, but they were busy with their own pursuits. Dad with business—my brother followed him into it, but I never wanted their life. Mom was always arranging charity benefits or out to lunch with her friends. We had staff who cooked for us.”

  Picturing him, such a kind person, so loving, as a little boy who wanted his parents to notice him broke her heart. At least she’d had a warm family, still did when she went home. They were always so happy to see her, and her mom, although she could afford a cook, insisted on feeding her family herself.

  “When I hired on at the ranch, that first night at dinner, I knew I’d come home. Not just the food—although that was mighty tasty—but the laughter, the joking, Mrs. Carson making us all put napkins on our laps and, did I tell you we said grace? I’m not a religious man, but I felt like I had more than enough to say thanks for at the end of every day. Our grass-fed cattle were in high demand.”

  Her tears fell faster, forming a puddle on the tile floor.

  “Then, it was all gone. The doctor diagnosed Mrs. Carson with a rare form of cancer and the best facility for treatment was across the country. And expensive. The boss told me, he said he’d been planning to leave the spread to me because he knew it meant as much to me as them. But he needed the money, and they had to go live where his wife could get her treatments. It meant life or death.

  “I understood, but it was… hard.”

  Was he crying, too? His voice cracked but she couldn’t picture him crying, so she cried for him. For a man who’s had his home ripped from him. He’d asked little, compared to most people.

  “I spent those first few months in deep mourning, even kept the curtains closed. I couldn’t bear the sun coming in. Didn’t want to see the moon and stars because I couldn’t be out under them anymore on Lightning. I typed away on my story, but my deadline was looming, and I wasn’t getting much done. Didn’t like what I did write.

  “Until, one afternoon, I was carrying in a bag of frozen dinners and saw a pretty lady unlocking her door. I guess you’d been there all along, but I’d been too shut in to notice. A lady with dark hair shot through with deep gold and red in the sunlight. She turned toward me, and her eyes were as blue as the sky over the Texas Hill Country.” John slid his hand under her shirt and pushed it up then caressed the skin he’d exposed in an absent way, but she welcomed his touch.

  Felicity waited a long moment before deciding to speak. “What happened then?”

  “I opened all my curtains. I was still a mess, but I wanted the sun that made her hair glow to come into my house. I started to heal, a little bit.” He gave her bottom a pinch, a hard one, and she jumped. “And my book started to come together.”

  “Can I read it?” A throbbing in her pussy matched the throb where he’d pinched.

  “Soon. It’s almost done. I think it’s the best thing I’ve written, but it’s mighty different than my other stories. Let’s hope my editor thinks it’s good when she gets here in a few days. I think she wants to make sure I haven’t crawled into a hole. She’s never flown out for a manuscript before.”

  John blinked back the moisture in his eyes. They sure did get tired after a long writing session, and the trail had been kind of dusty. He refused to consider any other reason. Bad enough he’d spilled his guts. Not something he did often.

  Lifting his hand, he brought it down on Felicity’s bottom with a hard smack and she squeaked. He spanked the other side and then the first again and his handprints shone bright pink on her pale skin. He’d never shared so much of himself with anyone. Ever. Even Mrs. Carson knew the barest details about his life before he came to the ranch. But she was so intuitive, she’d always seemed to go to a lot of trouble to make him happy and feel at home. Calling him in for a cup of coffee if he wandered past the house in the evening, an extra piece of cake on a paper plate covered with a napkin to take back to his little house at night.

  Felicity was no cook, but turned out he could manage the food department, and since he worked at home, he didn’t mind. A doctor had heavy responsibilities. And she was a horsewoman.

  Score!

  He set up an enthusiastic wave of swats, one cheek then the other then several on one. When her entire bottom glowed, he stopped and took hold of the back string of her thong and gave it a tug.

  “Ohh,” she gasped.

  John pulled a few more times and she writhed on his thighs, then, with a snap, he broke the panties and tossed them aside. He dipped his fingers between her legs and found her soaked. “Pretty lady, I think you like a nice bottom warming.” He took her deep sigh for agreement. “I planned to use some of these here tools on you, but fact is, I’m real interested in seeing how this plug stretched you, seeing if you’re ready for me.”

  Parting her cheeks, he looked to see the topaz on the end of the plug winking at him in the overhead light. He grasped the flange and drew it out then wrapped it in a napkin and set it on the chair next to him to wash later. He’d show it to her later on. Dipping his fingers into her pussy, he scooped out some of her cream and brought it back to her bottom hole. His slippery forefinger entered with no trouble so he added a second. A tight fit, but he thought with enough lube they might have a shot.

  “We can give it a try.” John stood and flipped her in his arms then strode off toward the bedroom. “Pretty lady, I can’t wait to bring you to the dark side.”

  She gaped at him and buried her flaming cheeks in his chest. He worried for a moment until he heard her giggle.

  “Naughty girl.”

  Chapter 11

  Earl started for the stairs, ready to kill if necessary to extract Audrey before someone raped her. The girl had shown poor judgment to come in here at all. Sure she was as green as grass, but what woman didn’t know to avoid a saloon? Unless she intended to join the ranks of the doves. And he’d never believe his Audrey would fall so far. His! Darn right she was his. And as soon as he dragged her out of this place, he’d be taking her back to the ranch and quitting his job. He’d buy a piece of land and a few cattle and start his own spread, him and Audrey and a passel of kids.

  All the reasons he’d thought it impossible fled like a gang of criminals after robbing a bank. No, he wasn’t good enough for her, never would be. But some
one had to protect her from herself. And lots of women did have kids and survive the experience. He couldn’t let fear keep him from living. At least as his wife she wouldn’t end up beaten to death by some drunken cowboy or gambler. As soon as they got away from whatever men thought they stood a chance at her, he’d throw her over his knee and spank all her notions away.”

  A kid stuck his head in the bar and shouted, “She’s going to jump! That lady in her underclothes is hanging out the window.”

  A woman in her underclothes could be one of a lot of people in a saloon with a whorehouse upstairs. Why was he so certain it was Audrey?

  With a glance at the stairs, occupied by the madam who ran the girls, brandishing a pistol to keep any riffraff from heading upstairs for a freebie, he turned back for the door and stomped toward the street where the fighting crowd and the watchers had all stopped to stare up, toward the second story of the wooden saloon building.

  He stepped off the boardwalk into the dust and lifted his head to see Audrey standing on the windowsill, wearing her white chemise and her little low black boots. Her hair spilled over her shoulders, the darkness full of glints of red and gold in the last of the sunlight.

  Her spanking doubled in his mind.

  He’d make sure she remembered what he’d do if she put herself into danger again.

  “Audrey, you get down here, right now.”

  The wagon bed beckoned. Under his direction, Felicity flicked on a lamp with a multicolored glass shade on the bedside table, removed every one of her garments, and waited in front of him. Her deep-rose nipples stood out against her white skin, her hair falling between them, dark in the room’s dimness. Her blue eyes cast down. John sat on the edge of the bed, legs spread, and beckoned her closer. “On your knees, darlin’.”

  She dropped and crawled on hands and knees then rested an arm on each of his thighs. God never made a prettier, sexier, smarter woman. He didn’t deserve her. Watching him, she opened his jeans and drew out his cock. He was so hard, it might just snap off.

 

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