Swiftly, Hattie scrambled to her feet. She took a blind swing at Megan.
With a mild nudge of his hand on her forehead, Hattie fell to the floor landing on her butt with a grunt. She gaped up at Devin through her tousled red locks. Recognition soon shadowed her wide-eyed expression. She scuttled backwards on her hindquarters,. Apparently, coming to her senses and forgoing the fight. She quickly covered her bottom half with what was left of her skirt.
Megan continued to flail, kicking and screaming at an invisible opponent. Obviously, she didn’t realize he was holding her. He balanced her on his hip, ignoring the verbal and physical tumult.
The remaining patrons seemed to possess enough sense to recognize the ferocity in his gaze. They quieted down and backed off as he turned to walk away.
Evidently, Hoss, not known for his good judgment—whether inebriated or not—choose that moment to confront Devin, who towered over him a good foot and a half.
“Looky here, chum, this ain’t no cern of yurs. These tarts were a fightin’ ov’r me an the win’er getsta ride me pony,” Hoss slurred, drawing his gun and waving it in the vicinity of Devin.
With a single, powerful right, he knocked Hoss clear off his feet. The man landed on a table several yards away. Devin stalked toward the kitchen with Megan buried under his arm.
“Let go of me. Take your hands off me,” Megan shouted, scratching at the hand cupped around her bared breasts. She seemed unappreciative to be concealed from raunchy, bug-eyed onlookers.
“Cannon.” The sultry voice of Cheri rang out behind him, making him stop in his tracks right before he entered the kitchen.
“Still like it rough, I see. Is this the Megan I’ve heard so much about?” Cheri gave him a saucy wink, reminding him of the time he’d called out Megan’s name while pumping sperm in Cheri’s pussy.
Megan finally ceased screaming and fighting, and he knew she was listening to Cheri. He caught her glancing backward from her bent-over position and noticed the sudden heated glare as her eyes took in the overly made-up woman, half-dressed in a pink- and black-satin low-cut gown that left nothing to the imagination.
His lips thinned into a grim line. He tightened his grip possessively on the small bundle safely tucked under his arm. The scathing warning in his eyes went unheeded as Cheri suggested seductively without so much as a pause, “The girls and I wouldn’t mind a fourth.”
He caught sight of the soldiers making a beeline toward them. Oh hell, just what I need. An audience. Not likely to tell Cheri to ‘fuck off’ in case he was ever in need of her services again, he replied in his deep, blunt tone, “Not tonight.”
“What is she talking about?” Megan’s tone was quarrelsome, as though mindful the voluptuous woman plied her wares upstairs. He suspected she already guessed by now they were on intimate terms.
“Shut up,” Devin ordered, ducking through the kitchen maze of stoves, tables, chopping blocks, and racks hanging from the low ceiling filled with pots and pans.
“Put me down.” Megan protested, squirming so her nipples tickled his palm.
“Where can we be alone?” he asked his new friend, Mrs. Boyd.
“Ov’r yonder.” Mrs. Boyd quickly pointed down the narrow hallway toward the storeroom.
“We don’t want to be disturbed.”
“No one comes in my kitchen unless I let’s ‘em in,” Mrs. Boyd replied in an keyed up tone before heading to block the kitchen door with a iron pan in one hand and wooden rolling pin in the other.
With a swift kick, the door to the small, dusty room opened. One more kick, and it shut with a boom.
* * * *
Promptly released, Megan stumbled backwards and struggled to cover her exposed bosom with the scraps of material remaining from her torn top. Assured not enough material survived for the job, she settled for crossing both arms over her breasts, meager in comparison to buxom Cheri. At least what she did have were perfectly round, perched high on her chest, and were as firm as her rounded behind—unlike Cheri, who was going soft on both ends and the middle.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He barred the doorway, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jacket, eyes roaming over her angrily. “I’m gone for a few days, and this is where you wind up? Whoring? Shelby and Emma? Thought you wanted to care for them. Was this how you figured going about it?”
“You know nothing of the situation.”
“You were a whore when my father married you. Couldn’t wait to come back and spread your legs? Is that why you were in such a hurry to be rid of me?”
“No, it’s not like that,” she bit out. The stabbing accusation struck her with alarm.
“I favor a good tale and a good fuck as much as the next fella. Start talking, or I’ll handle you like any other piece of ass in the place and finish ripping off what’s left of your clothes.”
“There’s rules. Everyone pays up front. Besides, I’m working in the saloon, not upstairs alongside Cheri.” She tossed him a dismissive look and attempted to walk past him, well aware she tempted fate.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” He caught her roughly by her upper arms and held her, looked down at her with half-crazed eyes. “Back outside like that?”
Despite her fear, her body trembled with anger. She would be damned if she allowed him a sign of weakness. She showed an inkling of disgrace as his heated gaze roamed freely over her bare breasts. Her puckered nipples were so hard, they ached from what she wanted to believe was the cool air outside and not the wild flutter in her belly.
“Fuck the rules. Within two minutes, you’ll be face-down on a mat upstairs.” His breathing escalated, and her heart pounded with excitement. He pulled her closer, just enough so the hard peaks brushed against his cloth covered stomach. She knew he heard her breath catch, saw the flush on her cheekbones that matched his. For an insane moment, she found herself wanting to press against him, rub her half-naked body against his. Oh, dear Lord, what was she thinking? His harsh, unsympathetic tone broke into her delirious reverie. “Rules don’t apply to a bunch of randy cowboys after they done got an eyeful and their bellies are full up with whiskey.”
“I’d rather take my chances outside than listen to you degrade me.” She turned up her nose, and looked away, refusing to be governed by him or any other man, to see the lust in his eyes or acknowledge her own pitiable desire, nor the untold need for his protection.
“I’m gonna do a whole helluva lot more than that. I done took up where my father left off.” Megan glared at him. “’Cept I paid in full for you. Mother dear, I own you.”
“That can’t be. It was too much,” she whispered in shock, unsure of what she was even saying. Her head started to spin—or was it the room?
“There’s something we can agree on.” He released her, stuffing his hands back in his pockets. “Fifteen thousand for your skinny ass is robbery.”
For the briefest of moments she hesitated, eyed him defiantly. No one owned her as though a piece of property. “A thief should know. I didn’t ask for a protector, or for your handouts.”
His brow darkened. “Reed did.”
“As I recall, you refused his request.”
“I’m not here on your behalf.”
“Did I interrupt your nightly visit to that…that harlot?” She clamped her mouth shut, mortified to hear herself whine like a jealous wife. His eyes glittered in a smiling fashion aware of her envy.
“If not for Shelby and Emma, I’d leave you here, where you belong to rot.”
“Leave me here, then. Walk away. I’ll make amends by myself. Get the girls back on my terms,” she grumbled. The fact he didn’t flinch, affirm or even try to deny her charge angered her more than his taking a lover. After all, their brief encounter was less than satisfying, mildly passionate, more pain than pleasure. Cheri could keep the brute and that, that glorious thing between his thighs. Oh, no, she was mistaken—not that.
“Done tried that and you failed miserably. They n
eed a mother, and you’re the only one they know. Stay here and this town will run you out before they ever return those girls. Of course, if you don’t care for them…” He trailed off.
“I love them,” she snapped tensely, in fear of losing them. “There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for those girls. They’re all that I have.”
“Prove it?”
“How?”
“Return to the ranch and continue mothering them.”
“And where will you be?” she asked with disdain.
“About.”
“Lurk roundabouts as their babysitter. Keep an eye on me so I don’t sneak off again.” she sneered, resenting the way he defied her without bating an eyelash.
The awkward moment of silence told her she was way off the mark. Under the wide, charcoal brim, his dark brows arched faintly. “Not exactly. I’ll help however I can. My interest leans more towards Reed’s entitlements.”
“What do you mean?” She eyed him cautiously, ignoring the lust burning in his piercing silver eyes.
“Share your bed.” His voice was silky smooth unlike the huge bulge she glimpsed visibly throbbing in this britches that presaged his wicked intent.
“Have you lost your mind?” She felt her cheeks flame at his barefaced sexual offer. A shameful offer that aroused and terrified her, slammed into her eager cunt.
“As far as I see it, you don’t have much choice. Pay me off, or do what I say. What’s it gonna be?”
“Reed and I were husband and wife. I can’t simply fall into your bed. I don’t even like you.” With a need all its own, her body tightened with sexual awareness.
“And with Reed, it was love at first sight? Humph. Sex is strictly a means of scratching an itch, no emotion involved. That’s how I like it, that’s how I aim to keep it. Forgot your whoring days, you’ll get used to it again.”
“You’ve gone mad.” She shook her head nervously, panic-stricken.
“It’s getting late, and we have to collect the girls. They’ve been broken up.”
“Who said I’ve agreed to your less-than-idyllic offer?”
His silvery gaze flickered amusedly, softened, and then darkened as it swept up and down the length of her. In a fluid motion, his muscled arms caught her by the waist, brought her flush against his body. The heat of his massive body seared her bare flesh. She drew in a startled breath and grew dizzy by his strength and scent, so utterly male and so deliciously pleasing.
Before she could mumble a protest he captured her mouth in a kiss so heated and carnal, it took her breath. She melted in his arms, accepted his sweet mouth, his sensuous lips, and his gifted tongue. Her body trembled with fiery sensations deep within her belly. Afraid of collapsing at any moment, she clutched the fabric over his biceps for support.
She moaned her need in his mouth as the warmth of one hand molded her breast in a sensual caress and the other splayed over the curve of her buttocks, lifting her slightly against his erection. The heat from his hard cock warmed her partially exposed belly.
Furious is what she should feel for not fighting, resisting his arrogant dominance. Instead, she climbed atop his feet, reaching up, grinding her mound against his engorged cock, thick and hard between their bodies. A burst of lust curled through her, moisture settled between her thighs preparing her body for whatever he wanted.
Megan shuddered at the depth of his passion. He kissed her hungrily and she kissed back, as if long-departed lovers reunited. His fingers milked her nipple. An erotic flame raced from her breast to her trembling vagina, frightening her as he squeezed the sensitive bud firmly, a slight tug of pain/pleasure driving her insane with a shocking flood of arousal.
That edge of pain threw her into a maelstrom of sensations and she nipped his lip hard. Sent his lust spiraling as he deepened the kiss, his tongue spearing her mouth forcefully. Both his hands roamed down her back, clutching her tightly to him.
She felt his entire body tighten with need. He seemed to fight for control over his body, emotions, sensations, as though a dark fury raged within him. Terrified of the lust pulsing through her own body, the overwhelming need to be possessed by him, and the thought of him struggling to restrain the sexual urges he spoke of earlier, the ease at which he could dominate her with his overpowering strength.
Just as abruptly as he grabbed her, he released her, his breath quick and ragged as her own. His eyes were dark, glazed with lust, a wild intent. With the tip of his tongue, he tasted the blood trickling from his nipped lip. He raised a brow in a sinful tribute.
She stepped backward, claiming much needed distance, took a deep breath to calm her shattered nerves and her wet pussy throbbed in frustration.
“Jazelle doesn’t want you, and I saw why. Bad for business.” He shook his head broodingly, and she couldn’t help but wonder exactly what he knew of her sordid past.
“Other than walking the streets, you don’t have an option, unless you got twenty thousand hiding in here pretty good.” With a dash of jollity in his tone, he reached over and lifted her tattered skirt, the black laced ruffle partially torn from the hem flipped up with the movement brushing against her belly. “Cause I sure didn’t feel it.”
“It was fifteen.” Indignant, she swatted at his hand while keeping one arm draped over her breasts in a vain attempt at modesty. Though he just felt her up, that didn’t mean he could have free reign. If only her body was as easily governable as her intentions.
“Interest.”
“Vile, despicable, arrogant varmint,” she spat.
“For someone nipple deep in arrears, you shouldn’t be name-calling. Now let’s get a move on. It’s getting late, and we need to get to bed.” He grinned, and she fumed at his overtly suggestive statement.
“When…how will we determine my obligation has been satisfied?” Fury growing by leaps and bounds, unable to allow him to strip her of the last bit of dignity by granting him full control over the matter. It was her life, her body they were discussing. She needed some resemblance of authority no matter how minuscule.
“Going rate here can be doubled.” He frowned, glanced briefly around the small, cramped storeroom, dusty shelves stocked with kitchen supplies. His eyes narrowed, disapprovingly. “Hell, even tripled. I don’t give a damn. As long as you do whatever I say. No matter what I ask. No don’t sit well with me. Disobey, and I’ll add on.”
Her eyes flared at the implications of his well-heeled promise. At the triple rate, it would take over three years to work off twenty thousand dollars, depending upon his sexual appetite. If she judged from his daily visit to Jazelle’s, it meant he’d want to have his wicked way with her every night. If she dared tell him no, then she’d be at his mercy for several years. Dear Lord, the thought of him so enormously endowed, sharing a bed, being intimate, sent ripples through her body. It frightened and excited her at the same time. Did she even want to tell him no? Yes, of course, she hated him, or so she kept reminding herself.
“What shall I receive in return?” she muttered, pushing away the thought of his lips on hers, his large hands caressing her body, holding her close, touching her where an ache suddenly throbbed uncontrollably between her thighs.
“Reckon my name alone oughta do ya. No one in these parts will dare harass you or the girls again. You’ll have a roof over your head, plenty of food, and money to buy you and girls new clothes that fit. Run the ranch, turn it into a goat farm, or knit all day. I don’t give a damn as long as you pull up your skirt and spread your legs when I tell you.”
She made a small whimper at his callousness, total arrogance based on the truth of the facts. Even so, the reality, plain as day, gripped her senses. Her imagination began to soar at the thought of being forced to submit to him. Her head began to spin with anger, humiliation, and fear, and though she didn’t want to admit, anticipation and arousal, as well. Unshed tears filled her eyes.
Devin’s unanticipated move caught her by supreme shock, undid her last fragment of emotional control. He removed his
jacket, and carefully arranged it around her. Gently, he brushed what was left of her styled updo from her face. He bent down and tenderly brushed his lips along her temple and whispered, “Don’t cry, Megan. I’ll keep you safe.”
Familiar with his foul language, overt confidence, sultry good looks, and dangerous demeanor, along with the reputation to back it up, she thought she could cope with whatever he dished out. His pity and shred of compassion was entirely unexpected. So out of the realm of his cold, hardened character, the floodgates unlocked, and every suppressed tear since her parents’ deaths released.
Megan rested her head over the beating of his heart, clinging to him in a manner that seemed desperate, needy. She sagged against him like a limp rag doll. He gathered her up in his arms and made his way outside to the waiting horses and soldiers in the back alley.
Moments earlier, she’d wanted to hate him forever. Now, she wanted to believe him. His strength, powerful and infallible. His warmth, comforting and full of hope. His scent, so utterly masculine and tantalizing, enveloped her senses. Tears streamed down her cheeks non-stop. It had been far too long since she felt truly safe, yet somehow, deep down, she knew without a doubt if anyone could keep her safe, it was Devin Spawn.
Chapter 12
It was well past midnight by the time they drew up at the ranch with the girls in tow. Sergeant Toledo quickly dismounted seconds before Devin, who held Shelby tucked in one arm sound asleep. Sergeant Major grimaced as Toledo beat Devin to Megan’s side.
With growing concern, Sergeant Major watched her smile graciously at Toledo as he offered to help Emma down from Megan’s lap. Wrapped in Devin’s oversized buckskin jacket, it almost completely covered the woman’s ripped red satin saloon dress. As if Toledo remembered the firm breasts every man back at the saloon had gotten an eyeful of, his hands tried to slip underneath while helping her off the horse.
Taking note of Devin’s scowl, Sergeant Major shared expressive glances with Trooper Morrow and Corporal Webster. In a deep, pensive mood, he shook his head. It didn’t take a genius to figure out the young widow bore a new claim. A shroud of fury masked the notorious gunslinger even a blind man could witness.
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