Demanding Satisfaction [Bride Train 9] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (16 page)

“Wait,” ordered Sin, his voice quiet but intense. “And her name’s Queenie.”

Sam seethed, fists and teeth clenched, but held back. The leering man slid his hand up another inch. Sophie yanked herself out of his arms. The man was so busy winking at his buddies that she managed to slap his face. The music stopped, making the roar of laughter even louder. The man, furious, lifted his arm to strike. Another man, taller but equally rough looking with long hair and beard, stepped between. He was built like a bull and easily caught the raised fist in his palm. From the expression on the attacker’s face, the bull squeezed it hard.

“Y’all wouldn’t be thinkin’ of striking a lady, would ya?”

His words were slow and quiet, but his body language matched the steel in his voice.

“She ain’t no lady, she’s a whore!” The bully pulled his hand free.

“I’m a dancer!” she yelled from behind her protector. “Ruby’s rules are one hand in mine, the other on my waist. If you want more than that, find it with someone else!”

“I’ll give ye more,” purred a woman in a deep red satin dress as she sidled up to Queenie’s attacker. She glared at Sophie. “That one’s too stuck up to give a man what he wants.” She placed a hand on his arm. “Whyn’t you spend some time with Abby?”

“I wanna do more than dance,” he demanded.

Her smile was both practiced and avaricious. “You can do whatever you want with me for ten dollars.”

He looked her up and down, noting the large breasts and bottom. “I like what yer sellin’, but one fuck ain’t worth that.”

“One?” Abby rubbed her breasts against him. “I bet I kin get you going more than once.” She curled herself against him. He clenched her breast with his hand. “Why’re we standing out here when we could be havin’ fun?”

She snuck out from under his arm and strolled toward the saloon door, hips swaying. He snarled something Sam couldn’t hear and followed Abby.

“May I have this dance, ma’am?”

The man who’d protected Sophie turned. Sam caught sight of his face and swore under his breath. A moment later Sophie and her new beau were laughing as they danced.

“I’m going to kill him,” muttered Sam, staring at the couple.

“He protected her,” said Sin. “The man deserves a dance.”

“He’s supposed to be inside, watching Smythe,” snarled Sam. “Not dancing with a woman he thinks is a lightskirt.”

Sin raised an enigmatic eyebrow. “Who is he?”

Sam scowled. “My brother, Joshua.” Sam rolled out his shoulders, sighing. “We told him about Sophie, but he wouldn’t know who she was from our description. Even Max wouldn’t recognize her.” Knowing Sophie was in good hands for a moment, even if they weren’t his, Sam ducked back into the alley. He leaned his back against the rough wood wall, cursing under his breath.

“How many brothers do you have?”

“Just the two.” Sam gestured toward the dancers with his chin. “Josh is a couple of years younger than me and Max. He’s dark, like our mother.”

“Any other surprises we should know about?”

Sam shook his head at Sin. He’d already said too much.

“So, Josh is your brother, and Sophie’s your woman.”

“She’s not my woman,” he automatically replied. Not yet, anyway. But after seeing her in that low-cut blue dress, laughing while she danced in Josh’s arms, he’d be giving it his best shot. And if Max didn’t like it, he could go hang.

Sophie held back a groan as the wagon hit another hole and threw her against Ulysses Tanner. The shy young man, Molly’s intended, had volunteered to drive her to Bannack City since no one would know him, thus keeping her identity a secret.

“I do apologize,” she said, straightening up. “But if this is what it takes for a woman to travel, no wonder few of them do.”

“I like travelling,” replied Ulysses. “It’s a change from working inside. Seeing all this,”—he swept his hand in a circle—“instead of a noisy city, makes a man able to take a deep breath.”

Sophie looked at the rocky soil, the bare mountainsides, and the dark evergreens above. “Molly loves spring the most, when the wildflowers bloom, covering the hills with color. It’s beautiful then.”

Pink flowed over Ulysses’s collar and up his cheeks. “Not as beautiful as Molly,” he murmured. He cleared his throat. Sophie smiled and patted his arm.

“I've never seen her so happy. Have you chosen a date for your wedding?”

The pink turned to red. “I’d marry her tomorrow if I could. I heard her say Christmas, since everyone comes to town for your party.”

It would work. She had suspicions that Grace and Paddy O’Keefe would ask Judge Thatcher to marry them that day. She hoped it would be her last party at the Tanner’s Ford Hotel. Not that she wanted to leave, but she wanted a home of her own. Something small that she could easily care for, unlike the hotel. With a very big bed.

“Molly said you haven’t left town since you were a young bride? Seven years ago?”

“I haven’t gone farther than the end of the valley in all that time.” For far too long she’d let small-minded men control her life. No more. She breathed deeply, letting excitement creep into her. “No matter how sore I get from this wagon, I’m eager to see what’s over those mountains. If I could, I’d soar like those golden eagles.”

She shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position on the thin quilt. After a few minutes she gave up. Her bottom was sore but she was alive, free for the first time ever, and darn it, she would embrace this adventure!

By the time they stopped behind Ruby’s Saloon late that night, every bone in Sophie’s body ached from being tossed around and thumped. Her feet hurt from bracing herself. Even her hair hurt. But she pushed it all aside and hobbled through the bustling kitchen and into Ruby’s private rooms. Since she felt too dusty to sit on the upholstered chairs, she lay on the rug. It was wonderful, mostly as it wasn’t moving. Shortly after a young girl with wide brown eyes brought her some meat and cheese, and a glass of beer. Her clothes were neat, her face and hands were clean, and she smiled shyly. Sophie thanked her and set to eating once the door quietly closed. If the young servant girls looked and acted this well, rather than frightened and starved, she might be safer than she’d dared to think.

The next day passed in a blur. Her explanation, that she was a widow needing enough money to go back home on the train, was accepted by the other women. As long as she didn’t make them lose business, they didn’t care who she was. After a quick supper Ruby sent her outside, where she had to dance with the type of men she’d never let in her hotel.

But finally Sophie whirled around the floor with a tall, broad stranger who was almost decent. Though his clothes reeked of spilled beer and whiskey and his hair and beard needed trimming, his breath did not stink like the other men she’d danced with. He was gentleman enough to protect her from the brute who almost hit her. Even better, he was a fine dancer. She hadn’t expected to enjoy herself, but whirling in his arms made her feel young and free. He grinned down at her though she couldn’t see any details of his face other than white teeth.

He stopped when the music did. She panted, trying to catch her breath, but he wasn’t winded. She noticed his eyes strayed to her cleavage and the breasts which almost escaped the satin with every deep breath. A warmth erupted in her pussy. His raised his eyes, lingering on her lips before noticing she’d watched. He grinned like a boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar, totally unrepentant.

“Queenie? Miss Ruby says it’s your turn to work inside. Queenie?”

Sophie suddenly realized who the girl yanking on her arm wanted. She dropped into a deep curtsy. When she stood, the wind blew her hair around. It chilled her cleavage, making her shiver. She wouldn’t mind going indoors for a while.

“Name’s Josh, ma’am,” said the man with his hand still on her waist. A warm glow seemed to spread from his massive paw. “If y’all want more than a dance, I’ll be pleased to be the first in line.” He gave her a playful wink.

“I’m not that type of woman, so that isn’t going to happen,” she replied loudly so others would hear. “But thank you,” she added for his ears only.

He bowed and released her. Under the loose-fitting, smelly clothes lurked the heart and soul of a true gentleman, one that made her body sing at his touch. So far that was two men who interested her. The other was Sam. Max might get on her list if he ever lost his scowl.

She hurried inside, glad to be in the warmth until she inhaled. Then she swallowed hard. The room smelled worse than a bachelor cabin in the spring. It was filled with rough men who’d sweated into the only clothing they owned. For many days and weeks. Her eyes burned at the acrid stench.

Roars of approval greeted her entrance. She was new and, therefore, attractive to the men. Perhaps knowing she was not available made them want her more. In any case, she forced a smile and approached the nearest table, letting her hips swing. She gathered up the dirty glasses, adroitly missing most of the reaching hands, and carried the glasses into the kitchen. She was grabbed as soon as she put her burden down.

“Don’t you ever hit a customer again.” Ruby, holding Sophie’s arm painfully, spoke so loud that everyone working in the kitchen heard. “I’ll let you off this time because it’s your first day. They paid to dance with a woman and that’s what they get. I’ve got a man watching to see they don’t haul you away. But they can touch damn near anything they want. You hear me?”

Sophie’s face flooded with heat. She’d not only jeopardized her mission, she’d angered the woman who could either protect her, or send her to the wolves.

“Yes, ma’am,” she said contritely. “It won’t happen again.”

“You’re damn right it won’t,” blasted Ruby. “Because if it does, dancer or not, I’ll send you upstairs. You’ll see what these other girls have to do every night.”

She reeled back, but the wall stopped her from falling. Ruby would force her to work as a whore? She looked around the kitchen. Some faces were sympathetic, but there were enough who looked eager to see her hurt. They all knew she needed money to pay for her train fare back East before winter but refused to do more than dance.

“Being a friend of Lily’s doesn’t do you a damn bit of good here, girlie,” said Ruby under her breath. “I said I’d protect you, but if you harm my business I’ll treat you the same as any other whore.”

Sophie nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I understand.”

She told herself she could never be like Abby, enticing a beast of a man into her bed, encouraging him to do things to her. But if Amos hadn’t taken her away from her stepfather, she might have had worse happen. She’d be dead by now, if not from a man’s hand, then her own in order to escape her fate.

“Tess,” bellowed Ruby, “bring me a bottle of my special whiskey. I got a headache comin’ on.”

Sophie returned to the open room, working so hard that she had no idea of time. She saw Abby across the room, having freed herself from the bully’s clutches. Sophie had to free herself from a few men as well. They thought it funny to touch the new girl, to see if her breasts were as soft as they looked, or to find out how big a handful her bottom was.

As the newest girl she was given the worst tables. These were far from the bar, so she had to walk into dark corners to serve cheap alcohol to those who wouldn’t leave a tip if their lives depended on it. And every time she was ready to punch someone, or throw down her apron and stomp out, she reminded herself that this was temporary. She chose to do it, for a higher purpose. Unlike the other women, she had a good life to return to. She had a business of her own, a safe one where no one was mauled like communal property.

By the time she stripped to her shift and crawled onto the thin pad laid on the cold attic floor, she was so tired she didn’t care where she slept as long as it was flat. Once again, because she was new she got the worst place. She faced the cold wall, her back to the woman snoring beside her, and fell into an exhausted sleep.

Someone shoved her shoulder and she jolted. She slammed her head against the slanted ceiling before dropping again.

“Up. Time to clean,” said a hoarse voice.

Tess was tall, broad, scarred, and determined to do her job well. Sophie groaned, but she rose to her hands and knees, then, holding the wall to keep from falling over, to her feet. The girl beside her rolled to take the warmth and space. Sophie grabbed her dress and boots and padded downstairs. The stairs were rough on her bare feet. She could see her breath as she breathed.

“Ruby’s sick,” said Tess after Sophie dressed, used the privy, and arrived back in the kitchen, shivering. “Once she gets started on that whiskey, she’s gone for days.”

Sophie thought back to what Lily had said and shivered even harder. When Ruby was sick, Abby took over. Abby was not her friend, not by a long shot. Sophie picked up a tray and followed Tess into the main room. Empty bottles, glasses, and trash littered the tables and floor. Chairs, and even some tables, were on their sides. Sophie carried the tray as Tess loaded it up.

“Does Ruby have a sick headache?” asked Sophie.

Tess nodded as she righted a chair. She slid her eyes toward Sophie. “Abby’s in charge. You’d best do a damn fine job, or she’ll beat you well.” When she smiled, the red scar down one cheek puckered. “You got in her knickers last night. Abby don’t like it when a man sets his cap for another girl. You do wrong tonight, Abby’ll send you upstairs.”