by Maree, Kay
Well, the truth is I never saw her again….
Ha-ha, who the fuck was I kidding. Something told me, the day I meet her she wasn’t someone who’d just walk in and out of my life or maybe I wasn’t willing to let her walk in and out so easily. We’d somehow remained friends and keep in touch on a regular basis. It wasn’t simple, she worked abroad, and I was an Aussie cowboy back on our family farm in sunny, Queensland. Neither of us were ever in our Sydney homes at the same time, I’d practically left the home to my brother and niece. They needed it and it made Neal look good in the eyes of the courts, besides it was also a way for him to finally have some stability for Zara. He could save some money and sort his life out so that one day he maybe allowed to venture interstate for a visit. My mother missed him dearly.
However, this isn’t about Neal… it’s about Adelaide. The sexy showgirl who… well I effectively seemed to fall smitten for the instant I saw her. Not that I am complaining, the girl was everything I’d been looking for.
As I said, I couldn’t and wouldn’t just let her walk out so easily.
Adelaide
“You’re going to be late,” I mentioned taking a quick glance at the clock on the bedside table right before I was scooped up. Squealing like some love-sick schoolgirl, I was rolled to lie on top of my man’s gloriously sexy fine body. The firm muscles generously inclosing me in as he wrapped his arms around me. I leaned into him breathing him in, he smelt divine like musk mixed with his own body odour. Holy crap! I knew I was in way to deep. I was drowning and it seemed Riker was the only one to save me.
“I won’t be late,” he smirked up at me, those pearly whites and the way his lips did this little crooked thing, was a complete turn on. “Besides I’m like Gandalf in The Lord of the Rings, I’m never late I arrive precisely when I mean too,” he spoke mimicking Gandalf voice. I laughed simply shaking my head at him. He was too adorable and so cute quoting lines from films.
“There’s that laugh I adore,” he said rolling us so I was now under his firm hard body, my legs opening so he could position himself comfortably without squishing me under his weight. I don’t know how he adored something he rarely heard due to our conflicting schedules and all, but I had to admit it was usually the little things about this men that made them lovable, so maybe he was starting to take notice of the little things also and if so, it redeemed their sex in my eyes.
Damn! He had me hooked, addicted like a drug addict and I wanted more… no I needed more of him.
“You better get that fine arse into gear and shower,” I said.
Riker had work today, lots of farm work to complete if the list of jobs on the kitchen bench were to go by. I had to return to reality eventually, while I still had a week of being here on his farming property, I still had a few emails ect to respond to and a phone call or two to make. It sucked that I couldn’t stay here any longer holed up in his family home even if the thought of living the ‘simple life’ had me internally melting into a puddle. However, right this very second with Riker splendidly crushing me between his body and the bed I couldn’t move, nor did I want to think about work.
He rolled his hips, the bulge in his boxer briefs grinding into my sex. I closed my eyes and took in the wonderful feeling. “You know if you continue to do…” I sighed as he repeated the movement. “Riker please,” I moaned, his hips rolling again, at this rate I was bound to lose my mind.
“You want this baby… you need this, don’t you?” he teased torturing me. I needed this and so much more, if I was to get through this week, my final week here, being with him then I needed this.
“Please,” I pleaded with him, pouting my lips. Something about that sweet lip pouting had him obeying.
He smirked, the all-knowing smirk that spoke an unspoken dirty language to my lady bits and then like a hungry lion his mouth took hold. His lips sliding over mine, his tongue exploring and ravenously licking at mine. Damn the man could kiss and easily make me forget the things I needed to do. I sighed with pleasure, the combination of his mind-blowing caress and the grinding of our hips starting to stir the deep hunger inside. Neither of us would be making it to work on time, and our no sex rule we’d tried to enforce today, was about to be kicked out the window… far out the window. It was out, hitting the dirt tracks of this property in the back of the ute and driving to the creek to delve into the warm waters for a raunchy play.
I was in to deep, way too deep but I wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else.
At least for now!
About the Author
The best way to this authors heart is through Minties!
I'm a self confessed shopaholic, book-a-holic and nerdy child!
I'm a self-published Aussie author from a small country town in Queensland. I have 3 children, a manage of pets which include cows, chickens, ducks, sheep and several dogs.
I not only love to write novels but I love to read from many genres which include Y.A, fantasy, romance including erotica and much more. I'm a geek for all things Star Wars, Star Trek, Lord of the Rings that's just to name a few.
I'm a bit of a clown always up for a laugh and a good joke.
If you like romance with heat, spunk and fire check me out!
Author Links
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Other books by Gemma Arlington:
Amore Intimate Series
The Unexpected Wedding
Hello, Stranger
Stripped
Bachelor Weekend
Intimate Disasters
The Black Angel
Playtime Series
Ace
Hardcore
Euphoria
Secret Trilogy
Secret Heart
Secret Lies
Slayer Brothers Series
SMASH
UNHOLY TRINITY
REVENGE
Standalones
The Perfect Business Arrangement
Auction Series – Complete Collection
VENOM RIDGE
Penny Blush
VENOM RIDGE
Copyright © 2020 by Penny Blush Books.
All rights reserved. This work is under copyright. No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including but not limited to photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. While, as in all fiction, I base the literary perceptions and insights on life experiences and conclusions drawn from research, all names, characters, places, and specific instances are products of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously. Any references to historical events, real people or places are used fictitiously. No actual reference to any real person, living or dead, is intended or inferred and is entirely coincidental.
Walker
“Billy, you really have to do something about the damn basement stairs.” This is the same comment I make every time he asks me to change the kegs over.
The Rusty Wagon is the heart of Venom Ridge, and Billy has been her owner for the last sixty years. Billy’s Great-Great Grandpa built the Wagon with his own hands, and it has been in the family ever since. Billy was hoping to hand it down, but his daughter wanted nothing to do with the bar and couldn’t wait to get out of Venom Ridge. She moved to the city and changed everything about herself marrying into money.
“I know the stairs are rickety, I’ll get to them eventually, ma boy.” This is the same thing he’s been saying for years. “Beers on.” Billy c
alled out to the waiting patrons.
I stepped behind the bar, pulling beers while Billy ran the till until everyone had a frosty glass in their hand.
“You’re a good lad, Walker. Thanks again for helping this old man out,” he said, handing me a beer.
“It’s no trouble Bill, anytime you need a hand just call. I’m sorry I couldn’t get here earlier.” Billy waved me off. “Brian and Sarah caught the train I see.”
“Yeah,” Billy sighed, wiping down the bar. “It's hard to keep the young ones here. Venom Ridge just doesn’t have the excitement of the city.”
“I don’t know about that; I mean Gia’s twins accidently letting off crackers in church last week was pretty exciting.”
“I don’t know how much of an accident it was,” Billy chuckled. “I thought the poor Father was going to have a heart attack. He’s been jumpy ever since. He dove behind the milk truck when a car backfired yesterday.”
“Well, I’ll be back tomorrow after my shift to help,” I said finishing my beer.
“You don’t have to do that. You have enough going on, what with being the Sheriff and all. Besides, my Granddaughter is coming to stay, so I’ll have help for a while.”
“How long is she staying?”
“A few months, I reckon.”
Billy is so proud of his granddaughter he talks about her all the time. He says she’s pretty like her Grandma, ornery like her Grandpa, smart as a whip and has the biggest heart.
He talks about her so much I feel like I know her.
I have a vague memory of seeing her walking into the fabric shop with her grandma. She was holding Lilly’s hand as they walked. She was wearing overall shorts, with rainbow kicks and a trucker cap with holes cut in the side so her piggy tails could stick out.
I’ve never officially met her, though.
She stayed out on the farm whenever she came to visit her grandparents, so our paths never crossed. Then when I turned eighteen, I followed my best friend into the police force. Attending the academy, working, and gaining experience until a Sheriff's position opened up back home. My work had me away from town on and off for a little over seven years.
I guess we just kept missing each other.
“Oh, my Sweet Pea is nothing like her Mumma. She loves it here and can pull a beer better than I can,” he grinned, with love and pride in his eyes. “She’s such a smart little cookie. She’s just finished a double major in Business.”
“Wow, smart girl. No offence, Bill, but how does someone who is smart enough to get a double major and who is rich enough to live in McCaffrey Towers, want to come here and work the bar?”
“Because my Sweet Pea loves her Grandpa,” he grouched. “She’s not at all what you would expect coming from that family. Thankfully, when the good Lord was making her, he added a decent helping of Bridge to the mix. My family genes over rode those of that man my Mary married.”
“I take it you’re still not a fan of your son-in-law.”
“His only redeeming quality is that he loves my Sweet Pea and Mary.”
“I tolerate that man because he gave me my Sweet Pea. That girl and I talk all the time, but it’s been a while since I have seen her. After Lilly, well, it hurt too much to look at her. She has her Grandmother's eyes you see.”
“What changed?” I asked. “Why is she coming here now?”
“My Sweet Pea got herself in a bit of trouble and needs to get out of the city for a while. So, she’s coming to stay. With any luck, we can help each other.”
Danica
“What did I do wrong? Have I not been a good and loyal servant of yours, Lord?”
“Daddy, why are you talking to God again?” I sighed, rolling my eyes, knowing exactly why he was seeking God’s forgiveness.
“I’m being tested, that has to be it. I’m being tested. Why else would he have saddled me with you?”
My father regularly complained God had given him the wrong child. According to my father, if God genuinely loved him, I would have been a boy.
“Because She knows you love a challenge. And I love you too, Daddy.”
“Danica, don’t be childish. You know I love you.” My father was pacing up and down in front of the grand fireplace in the drawing room. “And you know very well God is a man.” He huffed, slapping a hand on the mantle.
He looked like Rhett from Gone with the Wind. Never out of a three-piece suit unless he’s on the golf course or playing tennis. If they made a three-piece suit for sports, he would wear it. I’m sure his pyjamas are three-piece.
My mother always reminded me of Mrs. Banks from Mary Poppins, all frills and lace, perfect makeup and not a hair out of place.
“John, was that the Constable leaving our home?” My mother asked, entering the room.
“Yes, Mary, it was the Constable. Only he wasn’t here on a social call. Your Daughter…...”
“My Daughter? Oh, my goodness child. What have you done now?” My mother gasped, sitting on the settee, having already decided I was in the wrong.
Yes, mother, the cops just left.
Yes, mother, the police delivered me home… again.
I have completed this dance with my parents many times before. I knew the drill. I held my features blank, letting my mind wander as my parents ranted and railed.
I’m an embarrassment, a disappointment, because of my behaviour, no man of reasonable standing will ever want to marry me.
All my concentration was on stopping my eyes from rolling as they pontificated all the ways my antics are damaging my father’s reputation. I’m a young lady damnit and I should bloody well act like it.
If my life followed the plan set out by my parents, I would have married a surgeon. I would be living in a gated community, enjoying parties attended by doctors, senators, and presidential candidates, while the nanny attended to the children. The perfect husband, with the perfect children, living the perfect life.
A boring life.
A life I didn’t want.
As insane as it sounds, I don’t want a life of servants and privilege, where everything is handed to me. I want to work for a living, pay my way, have pride in being the driving force behind my success.
I was too much like my grandparents in that regard.
I think they would have preferred I was like the other daughters in their social circle. But I wasn’t. I wasn’t going out partying, getting drunk, forgetting to wear underwear. I wasn’t on the cover of a tabloid getting out of a car with my coochie covered by a black modesty bar, make-up running down my face, my hair a mess with an unimpressed bodyguard holding me upright.
My parents thought I was born into the wrong family.
I thought my parents were born in the wrong century.
My parents' ideals were more suitable to those born in the eighteen hundreds than modern times. My parents believe men went to work, and women went to lunch.
“What did you do this time Danica?” My mother queried despondently. I stayed silent, knowing she wasn’t finished. “Vagrancy, theft, did you leave the house wearing trousers again?” The biggest sin in my mother’s eyes. “Well, answer me,” she demanded.
“This is not the eighteen hundreds mother. A woman may wear trousers, show her shoulders and ankles if it catches her fancy. Hell, I could walk down the street wearing nothing but a bikini and no one would care!”
My mother harrumphed and fussed, muttering that it wasn’t decent.
“Other women may, but you, my daughter, may not,” my father interjected.
“Are you going to allow me to speak? To explain what happened, or should we just move on to the punishment portion of the proceedings?”
“Danica, you may think your attitude is charming, but I am here to tell you, it is not.” My father's face flushed with anger, a vein bulging in his forehead. “You are a McCaffrey, it’s high time you act like one.”
To my parents, the McCaffrey name means everything. It hol
ds weight, prestige. In this city, the McCaffrey name is revered.
It’s a name that is hard to escape.
“So, when you said you would allow me to speak, what you really meant was, I am to remain silent under your continued berating. What is to be my punishment father?” I sighed. “Because you have no intention in allowing me to explain or defend myself.”
“I was hoping by now, you would see the folly of your actions. That you would have calmed down and assume your position in polite society. Obviously not. I won’t stand for your behaviour, not anymore.” My father squared his shoulders, drew himself up to his full height. I’ve seen this look before; this is his I am firing someone stance. “Danica, the maid is packing your bags, you leave tomorrow.”
“What do you mean leave? For where?”
“John, you’re being rash, don’t you think?” My mother exclaimed.
“No, Mary, I don’t. We discussed this, and you agreed. Damnit Danica, you should be married by now, helping your husband make a name for himself. Instead, you’re running around with hooligans and thugs.”
“Those hooligans and thugs are your partners, sons,” I muttered.
“Nevertheless, your mother and I have had enough of your shenanigans. We can’t have you jeopardising the acquisition of Grants Hotel. McCaffrey Resorts will be the jewel of the McCaffrey Empire,” my father announced proudly.
“Danica, you should be the Princess of that Empire,” my mother clarified. “Instead, you’re…. you’re….”
“The Court Jester,” my father supplied.
“Danica, you are being sent to your Grandfather William.”
“Grandpa Billy? You’re sending me to Grandpa Billy?!”
“You don’t have to sound so excited,” My mother huffed.