“Just what in damnation are you trying to pull, Clarisse Worthington?” The words were biting and barely controlled. “I told you to get a room at the Sleepy Inn, NOT Madame Fanny's!”
Mike cleared his throat and stepped forward, “Uh...that could be my fault, Thorn. I brought her here.”
In the next instant, Mike was lying on his back rubbing his jaw with a rueful grin.
“Calm down, Thorn,” said Fanny softly, amused at the depth of feeling Thorn expressed for Clary. “I've taken good care of your Clary. She's been fine.” She cocked her head inquisitively at the irate man. “Or are you going to knock me down, too?”
Thorn glared from Fanny to Mike, then shook his head. “Of course I'm not going to hit you, Fanny, you're a woman. It's not your fault, anyway.”
Clary stepped forward, her chin jutting out. “I guess I should be relieved then that I'm a woman. At least you won't hit me.”
“No, YOU I'm going to turn over my knee and paddle the living daylights out of,” replied Thorn sternly, “or take my belt to your ass. I haven't decided which yet.”
Clary’s eyes stormed daggers at him. “You most certainly will not! I'm not your responsibility; I'm here on my own. I'm a grown woman and over twenty-one. I can go where I please. I don't have to obey you, Paddington Thorn, you're not my husband or my father, so just back off!”
Thorn didn't answer; he simply dipped his shoulder and picked Clary up, her feet pumping like pistons. “Which room is hers?” he asked Fanny, his tone brooking no refusal.
Fanny told him and Thorn turned to carry her inside and up the stairs, despite her screams of outrage. Once inside her room, he set her on her feet and dodged her swinging arms.
“How dare you, you have no right!” blazed Clary, trying to connect with the side of Thorn's head. He kept ducking, making her even madder. “Hold still, blast you!”
Thorn grabbed her fists and pulled her towards the bed, her hair falling out of the neat chignon as she pulled and twisted to get out of his grasp. She screamed again in frustrated anger when she felt herself off balance and going over his broad muscular thighs. In the next instant her skirts were falling about her ears and her shrieks were muffled inside the material. They increased in intensity as she felt Thorn’s cool fingers parting her lacy chemise and her stomach dropped in panic. Clutching frantically at his pants leg she realized she was about to feel his hard hand on her bottom once again...and this time, it was bare!
Chapter Five
Clary was so humiliated and angry she thought she was going to pass out from gasping for breath to scream under her skirts until the first scalding spank landed on her tender skin. As his hand pounded down on the sensitive flesh, she shrieked in agony.
“You've gotten entirely too big for your britches, little girl,” growled Thorn. He showed her no mercy. Even the tantalizing heart shaped buttocks didn't melt his frustration with her. His large handprints bloomed into bright red flowers on the smooth milky flesh as he spanked and scolded. “It's time I took you down a peg or two and reminded you of who you are talking to!”
Clary's wails slowly turned to wrenching sobs as Thorn's fierce hand finally slowed down and then stopped, pausing to rest on the crimson cheeks of the girl over his lap. It was then he felt a small niggle of regret. Had he been too hard on her? Unable to help himself, he ran his palm over the tortured flesh, soothing her pain and murmuring softly.
“You had that coming, little girl, I swear you did. You've tried my patience to no end today with your disobedience and your sharp tongue in front of others.” He swore under his breath. “Lord but you have a beautiful ass, darling.” He felt himself pressed against her side, his male attribute as hard as a rock. He was sure she must feel it too.
Clary muttered something unintelligible between the sobs and Thorn pulled her dress down and sat her up with trembling fingers. It was best to hide those delights from his naked eye or he would soon have her naked. “We need to talk, little girl. You've got a stage to catch in a few days. You can't stay any longer than that.”
Clary felt the hardness in Thorn's pants and knew it for what it was as she sobbed in frustration and momentary surrender. Obviously Thorn was not going to listen to her. If he wouldn't listen to her one way, then maybe she could make him listen to her another. Besides, as angry as she was, she was also on fire within her womanly core and she could feel the dampness between her thighs. She had dreamed of being held in Thorn's arms as a woman for so long that despite his spanking her, she still wanted him. Wanted him desperately. Maybe that was the key to making him allow her to stay here...willingly anyway. She really didn't want to fight with him. Her mind made up in one of those split decisions, she didn't hesitate.
“Oh Thorn, I'm sorry I was rude to you,” she sniffled, slipping her arms up and around his neck. “Please, forgive me.” She burrowed into his chest like a small kitten, nuzzling his throat.
Thorn's arms tightened around her in exact precision with his groin tightening as the soft scent of wild honeysuckle assailed his nostrils. Her hair had come lose and was hanging down her back in wild abandon and his fingers gripped the soft curls when his hand slid up the middle of her back. She felt so good in his arms, so soft, so dainty and feminine. It had been so damned long he had forgotten how good it felt to hold her!
When her tender mouth delicately kissed the side of his jaw, almost entreating, he groaned and turned her head up to take her lips, his mouth ravaging the softness and drinking in the sweetness like a man parched for water.
Clary felt her senses swim, her body reeling with desire as Thorn's hand moved around to the front of her dress. Eagerly she thrust into his hand, clearing the way for his shaking fingers to open the bodice of her shirtwaist. When it was open, she gasped in delight as his hand slipped inside her chemise to find her hardened nipples with unerring accuracy. She moaned and wiggled on his lap, causing him to groan hoarsely in return.
Quickly she stood up and slipped the dress off her shoulders and let it slide to the floor, leaving her clad only in the almost transparent chemise. She kicked off her shoes and peeled her stockings down her slender legs, her eyes never leaving Thorns.
“Clary...don't,” ordered Thorn harshly, unable to turn away from the feast before his eyes. Her pale skin seemed to glow with a slight blush all over, making it even more attractive. The dark rosy aureole of her breasts picked through the material, challenging him, seeking his mouth and Thorn felt himself drawn to suckle on those defiant buds, but he tried desperately to contain the sensual fire that was quickly raging out of control.
Clary ignored him and before she lost her nerve, quickly divested herself of the chemise and launched herself naked back into Thorn's arms, holding his head to her breasts. “I don't want to stop, Thorn. I want you,” she pleaded, her voice thick with desire. “I need you...please...love me.”
She lifted his head up to lean down and kiss him and was rewarded with his hands on her buttocks, pulling her closer, his lean fingers kneading the sore flesh. She leaned forward, pushing him back on the bed, staying within his arms as she lay on top of him. She slipped her hand down to touch the hard lump in the front of his pants, her breath coming faster with excitement, desire and just a little bit of fear. This was new territory for her, but she didn't want to stop. She wanted Thorn to take her, make her his, let her stay with him.
While his mouth took hers, she opened the front of his pants and underwear, allowing his member to spring forth from its prison and into her waiting hand.
“God, Clary, we have to stop...we can't do this,” grated Thorn harshly, “its not right!” He tried to push her off him, but Clary wrapped her arms around his chest and clung to him.
“No, Thorn, don't stop, I can't stand it if you stop now,” she cried, the tears forming in her eyes. She spread her legs and felt his shaft rubbing between them...down there, down where the heat was, the desire to have him inside her almost overwhelming. She tried to sit up, to sit on top of it and was fru
strated when it slid away from her slippery clit and lay against her instead.
With an almost angry cry, Thorn rolled over and flipped her back on the bed, his body poised above hers. His penis seemed to have a life of its own as the tip pulsed against that womanly passage, seeking entrance. When Clary pulled his head down to kiss her, he groaned and gave in, thrusting his hips forward in one hard movement to break through the virginal barrier that he knew existed and seated himself within her.
“Oh,” Clary gasped, her eyes going wide with shock and pain, and then she gripped his shoulders as he began to move slowly within her. She closed her eyes and moaned as the pain lessened and new sensations rushed through her virgin body like a tidal wave, a tsunami of pleasure and longing that built with each thrust of Thorn's strong hips. She couldn't get enough of him, she couldn't stand the pleasure, it was overwhelming her, building to something...something that broke into a brilliant wave of ecstasy and she couldn't contain her scream of sheer delight. A few more thrusts and Thorn was right there with her, collapsing onto her and rolling to the side, still entangled to hold her close to him as they both came down, their breathing finally slowing.
Thorn moved up on his elbow to look down into her face. Her eyes were closed and he ran his thumb tenderly down the side of her face and across her soft lips. “Are you all right?” When she opened her eyes, they were shining with love and sated passion, yet Thorn regretted what he'd done.
“I'm more than all right,” she whispered. “That was wonderful, Thorn, all I had ever dreamed it would be.” She paused, then tentatively asked, “Does this mean I can stay?”
Thorn rolled away from her and stood up. “Of course you're staying, I can't let you go now.”
This was music to Clary's ears and she laughed delightedly and stood up as he put his clothes back together. She felt incredibly shy and embarrassed suddenly and folded her arms across her milky breasts, her eyes on the floor. “Did...did I give you pleasure, Thorn?”
Thorn gave a small sigh and pulled her into his arms. “Yes, you pleasured me, more than you can possibly imagine. You're beautiful, everything I always thought you would be.” He gave her an almost fierce kiss and then picked up his hat off the floor to jam it down on his dark head.
“Where are you going?” asked Clary, puzzled at his attitude. His words seemed sincere, yet he was preparing to leave.
“I have a case to finish. Boxcar and I are headed over to Silver Springs.” He walked towards the door and then turned around. “We'll talk about the wedding when I get back.”
“Wait a minute...what wedding?” Clary rushed to him, grabbing him by the arm.
Thorn looked down at her, his eyes guarded. “Our wedding, of course. I bedded you, now I'm going to marry you.”
“But...but I don't want to get married! And neither do you, Thorn, I know you don't! Neither one of us are ready for that.”
“It's a little late to worry about that now,” replied Thorn heavily, opening the door. “We'll talk about the details when I get back.” He shut the door behind him, leaving Clary with her mouth gaping open and thinking furiously. This wasn't the way it was supposed to go! What had gone wrong?
She bit her lip and tears stung her eyes as she dressed. It had been so beautiful, but now it looked like she had forced Thorn's hand. She hadn't meant to do that; she had just wanted to stay near him. She hadn't counted on his sense of honor kicking in, not out here in this wild territory where anything and everything went on.
She picked up her hairbrush to tidy her long tresses while she thought. Thorn might never forgive her for pushing her into marrying him, although that wasn't what she had intended. But would he believe her? Or would he always think it was just spoiled little Clary, reaching for the moon and insisting on having her own way, no matter what the cost? Even if he said he forgave her, wouldn't it always stand between them and eventually soil the beauty of their marriage?
She studied herself in the mirror. She didn't look any different. Wasn't she supposed to change somehow? Look more...older or something? She didn't look any different as far as she could tell; the only difference was on the inside. She was a woman now, no longer a little girl.
She laid the brush down, defiance lifting her small chin. Okay, so she had miscalculated, but that didn't mean she had to marry Thorn! This time she would stick to her guns and face him head on, even if he spanked her again. She was NOT going to marry him...not right now anyway. She had too many things to do, too much to explore, a business to run.
All she wanted to do was stay near him, but if he insisted on this foolish course, then she would go somewhere else and set up her business. Someplace where he wouldn't find her! Having made up her mind, she turned and strode from the room. It was time for lunch with Fanny.
* * *
“You're awfully quiet,” observed Boxcar, studying Thorn from the side. “Everything go all right with Clary? Did you end up having to spank her?”
“Yes, I had to spank her, the little brat,” replied Thorn tersely. “She had it coming.”
“And?”
“And what?”
Boxcar shook his head. Something must be wrong; Thorn was not usually so reticent. “And what happened? You two still speaking? You've hardly said a word since we left Potluck and that's mighty unusual!”
“We're speaking.”
Thorn was short and sharp, his tone indicating he didn't want to be bothered anymore and Boxcar figured something must have gone wrong. Shrugging his shoulders philosophically, he figured they'd have to work it out. They rode on in silence until they reached Silver Springs.
“You get Callie delivered or is she going to pop up at the bank in the way again?” Thorn asked the question as they tied their horses up in front of the bank in Silver Springs. His eyes narrowed as he recognized the Indian he had seen in the back of the Sulky Kitten in El Paso sitting on the boardwalk across the street, his hat pulled down over his face. Thorn knew it was the same Indian because he recognized the blanket. There had been something needling at him about that Indian ever since he had seen him and it finally clicked into place. He'd been one of the four men they had chased off from the stagecoach the other day.
“Yeah, I got Callie delivered all right,” chuckled Boxcar, dismounting from his horse. He started to go on, but a poke in the ribs from Thorn stilled him instantly. “What is it?”
“That Indian look familiar to you?” Thorn asked, tightening up his saddle strap and fussing with the bags.
“Actually, his blanket does,” admitted Boxcar, following suit on his horse. “Looks like the one we were chasing.”
“Right...and the one I saw out back of the Sulky Kitten.”
“Well, well,” murmured Boxcar. “They do get around, don't they?”
“I'll say,” replied Thorn grimly. “The question is, where are his buddies?” He looked pointedly towards the bank.
“You know,” said Boxcar thoughtfully. “Mike told me there was a fella on board the stage who said his name was Garvey and that he was a banker in Silver Springs.”
“Why didn't you tell me this before?”
“You weren't speaking after you left Clary,” protested Boxcar, “and then it slipped my mind until just now. You suppose those bandits were chasing that stage for more than just a robbery? Like maybe that robbery was staged all along?”
Thorn nodded. “Another way to slip money to these fellas. Close enough to El Paso to lay in wait for the stage and then slip back into town for the poker payoff.”
“Only we scared them off.”
The bank door opened and Thorn watched out of the corner of his eye and saw one of the men from behind the Sulky Kitten come out. When he paused and then turned the corner, the Indian got up and followed him discreetly.
“Wonder where the other two are?” Thorn said, looking around again. “There are four of them.”
“Split up, maybe?”
“I doubt it. They wouldn't trust each other enough for that. Probably
steal each other blind if they could.”
“Maybe,” replied Boxcar with a grin. “But there is some honor among thieves, just not very often. But you're probably right. I bet the other two are around close somewhere. We need to keep our eyes open.”
“Right...come on.” Thorn stepped up on the boardwalk and headed for the door of the bank.
Inside, it was a little bit cooler and they waited a moment for their eyes to focus after being out in the bright sunshine, then they approached the teller.
“May I help you?” The little man behind the bars was slightly balding and his glasses perched on his nose as he peered over the edge of the lenses.
“We'd like to speak to Mr. Garvey,” replied Thorn watching him carefully.
A shot suddenly rang out and a bullet whizzed by Thorn's ear. He and Boxcar drew their guns and ducked, waiting for any more shots. When nothing happened, Boxcar put his hat on his pistol barrel and inched it around the corner of the counter. When nothing happened again, he ducked quickly around to get a look, but saw nothing in the half open doorway of the back office. Slowly they stood up, their guns on ready. Looking through the little window, they saw the bank clerk cowering on the floor.
“Garvey! You in there?” yelled Thorn at the doorway. Getting no answer, Thorn inched that direction, ready to shoot at a moment’s notice. As they came slowly forward, they heard a groan so they moved quickly into the room and saw the man on the floor, just sitting up and holding his head.
The Case of the Great Land Grab (Agent Thorn Book 1) Page 6