As the Cowboy Commands [Ecstasy in the Old West 2] (Siren Publishing Allure) (18 page)

By the time Jared stepped out of the bedroom, his fully formed erection was stretching the fabric of his trousers.

* * * *

“Don’t be startled,” Jared said as he stepped into the kitchen.

Both Helen and Marcus jumped at the sound of his voice. Marcus wheeled around to face the intruder and did so with such haste that he lost his footing and fell to his knees. Helen’s generous curves were put on display when she faced Jared, her eyes filled with spontaneous fear that was quickly replaced with anger.

“Damn you, Jared!” Helen hissed. “You about scared the life out of me!”

Shock had quickly been replaced by anger in Helen, which then evolved into embarrassment as she became aware of being clothed in only a camisole. It didn’t matter to Helen that Marcus had already watched her doing astonishingly intimate things with Jared in a back alley where they could have been seen by any number of people. What mattered was that right now she wore only a camisole that provided marginal covering—a fact which Jared obviously noticed and appreciated, since he was making no effort to hide the enormous erection tenting the left leg of his trousers!

“I’m sorry. After thoroughly pissing off Gregg and his father, it seemed to me I’d better keep where I was going and what I was doing something of a secret.” He nodded toward Marcus and smiled in acknowledgement. “And since I wasn’t entirely certain I could trust our host, I decided to make my entrance a secret. I slipped in through the bedroom window.”

Under her breath, Helen muttered, “It’s obvious that you’ve had plenty of experience sneaking into ladies’ bedrooms.”

Helen was angry that Jared had reentered her life so unexpectedly, but she couldn’t deny that seeing him again hadn’t triggered an instant response in her body. The response was instinctual, primordial, one that she could not control with self-discipline. Her natural inclination to be in a heightened sensual state when in Jared’s presence, and with the visual stimulation of his already flagrantly aroused physical state, triggered in Helen responses that were of such magnitude that they made her heart palpitate. Seeing the bulging trousers struggling to contain Jared’s formidable erection caused Helen’s pussy to instantly begin creaming, her cunt moistening in preparation for what her body already knew was a daunting task of accommodating a beautiful cock of extravagant dimensions. She felt the rapidly accelerating pulse of her heart in her clit and the sudden difficulty in maintaining a smooth, even rate of inhalations and exhalations.

While sitting in Marcus’s kitchen, Helen had, as she always did, reacted to Jared’s virile, lusty presence with an undesired but undeniable sexual awareness. He had crept into the house unannounced and several hours earlier than anticipated, and he had frightened Helen and Marcus completely, but that didn’t prevent Helen from paying mouthwatering attention to the long, thick bulge tenting the gunfighter’s trousers. Anger couldn’t compete with alluring sensuality.

“I haven’t come empty-handed,” Jared said, showing the friends the laden burlap sack in his left hand. “If that’s worth anything by way of apology.”

Marcus, significantly more pecuniary than Helen, piped in quickly with, “I knew you were a gentleman from the first, despite the circumstances in which we met.”

Helen bristled at her friend’s comment. Jared had been many things when Marcus had first seen him, but being gentlemanly wasn’t among them. She would have said something to Marcus, too, but of more pressing concern was her dishabille. Aware of her own near nudity, and painfully aware of her own inability to deny Jared when he wanted her sexually, Helen sat down in the kitchen chair—and became distinctly aware of the cool, wooden surface against her bare buttocks. She pulled her camisole as far down her thighs as possible. Jared’s presence invariably heightened Helen’s awareness of her own body.

“We weren’t expecting you for at least another hour,” Helen said accusingly. “What happened?” Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “You shouldn’t be here so soon.” She voiced the question and statement as an accusation and did so in such a way that everyone was aware Jared wasn’t really expected to answer.

“Once you infuriate the most powerful banker in town, it’s been my experience that it’s good for your health to not stay in the hotel he thinks you’re at,” Jared answered, not one to be cowed. “I moved my horse to another livery, used a different name, and paid two days more than required in advance. Then I went and bought some provisions so that my intrusion into your world wouldn’t be quite so much of an…” He paused, and Helen felt a sudden quickening of her heart before Jared concluded, “Inconvenience.”

Helen glanced over at her friend. Marcus’s gaze was transfixed on Jared’s groin, the erection he had trapped inside his trousers mesmerizing the young man.

I’m not going to get jealous, Helen told herself. A man like Jared has too many women willing to share his bed for a good woman to be jealous. Besides, Marcus is just frustrated right now because he doesn’t have a man and I do.

This awareness did little to ameliorate Helen’s fury at her friend for staring—with the same desperate longing that a starving man would stare at a perfectly grilled beefsteak—at the erection Jared had locked inside his gabardine trousers.

Jared extended the burlap sack toward Marcus, though his gaze was trained on Helen. He said, “See if there’s anything in here that interests you. I could have stopped somewhere and picked up a bite to eat for supper, but I couldn’t wait to see you again, so I bought food and came right here. That’s why I’m early.”

Helen knew that Jared was speaking directly to her, even if he was at that very moment handing the heavy burlap sack over to Marcus. When Marcus looked in the sack, he yelped with joy and extracted a small, wood crate containing eighteen brown and speckled chicken eggs.

Marcus asked excitedly, “You went to McCready’s?”

Jared shook his head. “I went to Olsen’s General Store. He said the eggs had just come in, and he was going to sell them one at a time. I bought all eighteen eggs he had in stock.”

Helen saw the look of absolute adoration begin to shine in Marcus’s eyes, and though she would rather that particular expression only come from her when directed at Jared, she also understood that she had no claims to Jared’s exclusivity.

Another screech of pleasure came from Marcus when he found the tin of peaches in sauce and the glass jar of Mrs. Norton’s strawberry jam. An even more enthusiastic cry of pleasure came from him when, digging deep into the burlap sack, he found the loaf of bread and the brick of cheese that had come from Mr. and Mrs. Fitzsimmons’s dairy farm. Under normal circumstances, to get an entire brick of cheese from Mr. and Mrs. Fitzsimmons, a person put their name on a list and waited a week or two for the order to be filled.

Helen said, “You seem to have a way of hurrying things along.” Helen turned sizzling, green eyes upon Jared. “How do you always get everyone to do exactly what you want?”

“I don’t always get my way,” Jared replied. He leaned toward Helen slightly, his gaze raking over the ripe curves of her breasts pressing against the décolletage of her chemise before traveling downward to take in the magnificence of her naked thighs. “But honesty precludes me from saying that the cards don’t sometimes fall the way I want them to.”

“Sometimes?” Helen arched a disbelieving brow. “More like
all
the time, Mr. Parker.”

Jared frowned theatrically. “Mr. Parker now, am I? Seems like quite a comeuppance, if you ask me.”

Helen replied, “Kindly note that I
didn’t
ask you.”

Jared’s gaze crawled slowly up and down over Helen, his lustful desires rushing to the fore, the man making no effort to keep his emotions from showing in his expression. Helen saw the raw hunger in his eyes and knew what would happen—and what magnificent bliss would be hers to bask in—if she gave in to that ravenous sexual need.

“Stand up, Helen,” Jared said, his tone suddenly commanding, dictatorial. “I’d like to sit there.”

“But I—” she began then was silenced by the hard look that had crept into Jared’s eyes. Despite her best intentions and her determination to never be controlled by anyone, Helen found herself rising slowly to her bare feet.

“Thank you,” Jared said with a smile as he sat in the now-vacated chair.

Helen quietly declared, “I hate you.”

“I don’t believe that,” Jared replied, his smile unwavering. “Now please, my darling Helen, remove that chemise. You’re lovely in it, but I’m inclined to believe you’ll be even more lovely without it. And please explain to me what problems there are in your life that make a jackass like Gregg Neilson necessary?”

Marcus pulled a bottle of whiskey from the burlap sack and asked, “While she explains, would you like a drink?”

Gregg didn’t like the way his father was looking at him. He even considered saying something about it before wisely deciding to keep any comments to himself. The elder Neilson’s attitude had been more aggressive than usual after Jared Parker had balked at the employment offer.

“So, if this gunman you had your hopes set on doesn’t take the job, who are you going to get?” Jerome asked, standing once again in front of the map on the office wall at the bank.

“His isn’t the only gun available for hire.”

Jerome cast a sideways glance at his son, and Gregg wondered if he’d said something foolish. Whitetail Creek was crawling with men willing to rent out their muscle and gun, so the comment seemed safe enough. But his father had seemed particularly tense lately, even more churlish than usual.

“Let’s do a worst-case scenario, just to see how well you’re looking at the big picture,” Jerome continued. There was a distinct undercurrent of contempt in his tone as he spoke. “What are you going to do if Jared Parker not only turns down your offer to get these folks here”—he put his finger on the map—“to sell their land to the bank, but he also decides to work against us?”

Gregg blanched at the thought. “Why would he do that?” His voice was low, his tone lacking in self-confidence when he added, “He wouldn’t do that. He doesn’t touch his gun unless there’s gold in it for him.”

“You hope he wouldn’t. That’s not the same thing as being sure he wouldn’t.” Jerome drew an imaginary circle in the map with his fingertip. “I want this land here. Every last bit of it. And I’m getting goddamned tired of waiting around for you to get it for me. And what about that girl of yours? If you can’t get her to marry you, get her to sell that land of hers. I don’t give a damn how you do it.” He tapped the map indicating where Helen’s homestead was. “Everything I’ve planned hinges on owning this land right here.” He turned to look directly at his son. “Get the legal deed to that land. I want it, and I want it now. And you’d better get yourself some hired guns, too. There was something in Jared’s eyes that I didn’t like, something that said he could be real trouble to us. I’ve got to tell you, Gregg, that I’m really beginning to wonder whether you’re smart enough to inherit this bank.”

“I’m smart enough,” Gregg replied, his eyes narrowing hatefully. “Don’t you think otherwise.”

Jerome headed out of his son’s office, saying, “It’s not your place to tell me what to think.”

* * * *

Helen’s heart was racing, and though she tried to remain calm, her palms felt clammy and her stomach jittery. What Jared was doing to her—giving her commands as though he somehow had authority over her—would be infuriating under any circumstance, but it was doubly infuriating to have him behaving with such autocratic airs when Marcus was right there as a witness. But then, he had been witness to much more than just
airs.

“Jared, I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but I’m…” She looked into his dark eyes and a shiver worked its way up her spine. Her words just drifted away. She licked her lips to moisten them and nervously tugged at the bottom hem of her chemise. “I’m not going to let you…”

Jared smiled and raised his right foot. In a casual tone, he stated, “Do be a dear and help me off with my boots. I think it’s high time I get comfortable.” When Helen did not immediately act upon Jared’s request, his face slowly transformed, losing its warmth as he added, “I shouldn’t have to remind you that you’ve had me down on my knees more than once. Now please, help me with my boots.” The right side of his mouth inched upward slightly. The gleam returned to his eyes. “And with the rest of my clothes, for that matter.”

Helen looked at the swollen bulge of Jared’s trapped erection then glanced furtively over at Marcus. In a whisper, she asked Jared, “But don’t you want some privacy?”

“It’s a little late to get shy around Marcus, don’t you think? Late
and
hypocritical.”

Helen knew that she had just been called a hypocrite, and it felt like she’d been slapped across the face. But what was equally true was that Jared’s commanding, authoritarian presence and bearing touched within Helen excitable nerves that had never before known anyone quite like the tall man dressed in black. He was a man who simply took whatever he wanted, and as much as Helen could find fault with this mindset, she was also aroused by his naturally commanding presence. His dominance made her clit tingle softly, made her nipples tighten and become visibly erect through the thin cotton of her well-washed camisole.

Feeling the eyes of both Marcus and Jared on her, Helen leaned forward slowly at the waist, cupping the heel of Jared’s boot in her palm, and grabbed the toe with the opposite hand. She eased the boot off his foot, set it aside, and then removed the other. Next she removed his white socks and set them on his boots.