Demanding Satisfaction [Bride Train 9] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (18 page)

“Ain’t her haid ye bang,” called someone from the saloon. He smacked his fleshy lips. “If’n ye run out of steam, jest call. I’ll take over fer ye.”

“I got a couple years’ worth of steam to get out first, old man.”

Sophie was still fighting and screaming as he headed down the hall. Abby had scurried ahead. She opened a door on the right and gestured for them to go in. Josh noted the door was solid, but he could put his foot through it if he had to.

“Make sure you get yer money’s worth,” said Abby as they passed. “But I want her on the floor servin’ tomorrow.”

“Abby!” screamed Sophie. “You can’t do this! Ruby said—”

“Ruby said you’d be sent upstairs if ye hit another guest,” said Abby with a snarl. “He’s your man fer the rest of the week. When ye ain’t whorin’, ye’ll be servin’ downstairs.” She turned to Josh. “Don’t fergit to bar the door, ’less ye want comp’ny.”

She slammed it behind her. Josh set Sophie on her feet, turned his back, and quickly barred the door. When he faced her, she gasped.

“You!” Her mouth moved, but nothing else came out but sputters.

Josh grinned and winked. “Said I’d be first in line if you want more than a dance.” He wondered if the color on her face would be the same when she was flushed with an orgasm or two.

“I came here to dance, not to…” Her hands fluttered as she tried to find words. “Didn’t my kicking and screaming mean something to you?”

“You’re safe now,” he said quietly.

She trembled, but held her head high. “Safe?” Her sharp, sarcastic laugh ended abruptly. “I came to Miss Ruby’s to dance, to make enough money so I could go home. You threw me over your shoulder and brought me here. How am I safe?”

“My name’s Josh.”

“You already told me.” She tossed her dark hair like the mane of a high-stepping filly. “But your name doesn’t matter.”

“Josh
Gibson
.” She blinked, staring at him. “Max and Sam are my older brothers. I take after our mother’s coloring. As for this”—he grabbed his beard and long hair—“soon as we’re finished with this job I’m cutting my hair, shaving my face, and I’ll never, ever wear dirty clothes again.”

“What?”

The column of her throat moved as she swallowed. Her breasts rose and fell with each deep breath, tantalizing him. He hunched over a bit to reduce his menace and, hopefully, her fear.

“I know who you are and why you’re here, Mrs. McLeod. Ross warned us Abby wanted you beaten and raped. You giving that idiot your knee gave her the excuse. If I didn’t buy you, she’d have sold you to the highest bidder. And then the next, and the next.”

Sophie’s eyes widened. Her face turned pale, but she didn’t speak. He softened his voice.

“I’m a Pinkerton agent, ma’am, just like my brothers. Officially we’re here investigating others, but we want to stop this Mr. Isaac.” He let her see a hint of his smile. “Max thinks you’re a fool for pulling this stunt, but it looks like it might work.”

“But…how?” She tilted her head, frowning.

“Lily gave Max a bag of gold dust. Abby has it now. That means no one else will touch you.”

He let his eyes drift over her, appreciating what she couldn’t hide. Her nostrils flared. That, along with another flush, wide eyes, and open, panting mouth, proved she might be as eager as he to use that bed for more than sleeping.

“You belong to me.” He whispered the words, both threat and promise. “Day and night, for the rest of the week. Whatever I want.”

She swallowed hard, and then lifted her chin. “You won’t hurt me,” she said. Josh watched her nostrils flare above parted lips.

“I have no intention of hurting you, Sophie.” He curled his fingers into fists to keep from reaching for her. “In fact, I plan to do the opposite. But no one else can know if your plan is to work.”

Sophie worried her bottom lip with her top teeth. He stared, wanting to kiss those lips, and the ones below her belly.

“How can I find Mr. Isaac if I’m stuck in here with you?”

He tore his attention back to her words.

“Abby said I was to tell her if you didn’t cooperate. She can’t wait to call in Mr. Isaac to teach you a lesson.”

Sophie swayed, grabbing a chair to keep erect. The bolt of fear that crossed her face lasted only a second before she tightened her grip and locked her knees.

“You won’t be alone with him, Sophie. There’s three of us Gibsons, as well as your friends from Tanner’s Ford. We’re all working to stop Isaac. Permanently.”

It took a moment, but his words finally got through. She sank into the upholstered chair she’d been gripping and slumped forward. Her dress gaped, but unfortunately her long hair covered what he was sure would be a very nice view. His cock throbbed, reminding him of what Abby, and a room full of men, expected him to do. After all her screams, they’d been silent too long.

He had a beautiful, half-dressed woman in a room that contained a bed with the covers pulled back, ready for use. Though Sophie was no whore, he’d bought the rights to her body. A body that had brought his own alive when he held her as they danced. Working as a Pinkerton agent demanded sacrifices. He grinned to himself. Tonight he’d have to sacrifice the chance to sleep to make sure Sophie’s plan worked. It was about time he got the best part of an assignment!

He shucked his coat, set a foot on a stool, and bent over to untie his boots. Sophie watched, face blank, as he lined them up against the wall where he wouldn’t trip over them. He hauled his shirt from his pants and started on the buttons.

“What are you doing?” she asked. Her throaty whisper sent shockwaves to his tight ballocks.

“Can’t you tell?”

Her tongue flicked out and touched her upper lip. He wanted that tongue touching him instead.

“You, ah, want to sleep?”

He slipped his shirt, or to be correct, Sam’s shirt, off and tossed it away. Her eyes widened and her mouth went into an “O” as she stared at his chest. He did the same, noticing that her breasts had swollen a fair bit since he set her on her feet. Swollen so much that he was sure a nipple was about to escape.

“Not yet, Queenie.” He used the word on purpose, telling her they were on the job. “You’re not a whore in any sense of the word, but the men out there expect certain things to happen. If I leave this room as hard and needy as I am now, they’ll know something’s not right. They know that I like you, so a bit of quiet while we talk things over isn’t going to make them too suspicious. But if you aren’t screaming and fighting me in the next few minutes, Abby and the others are going to wonder why.”

She swallowed hard. “You’re serious.”

He winked. “Yes, ma’am.” He held out his arms to give her a good look at him. “Sam said you wanted a man who could satisfy you in bed. Will I do?”

He kept his gaze over her head so he wouldn’t see her expression. He knew he wasn’t handsome. His nose had been broken more than a few times thanks to having played the part of a rough man for too many years. That was on top of the fights he and his brothers had gotten into over the years. There were the usual scars from working the land as well as a knife or two. If she wanted a pretty boy, she was out of luck. But if she wanted a man, he was that, and more.

Could she tolerate the “more”? He would never harm a woman, but he had an urge to dominate a demanding one. A woman who could look him in the eye and dare him to try. A woman who would fight and scream and struggle, knowing he’d push her only as far as she was ready for. Their mutual release would be far, far greater after sharing the passion of dominance and submission.

When she didn’t speak, he looked down. She wasn’t looking at his face. She was staring at his chest as if memorizing it. Then she dropped her eyes to the large bulge below his belt. The one that demanded freedom and ached for her touch. He wanted to spread her legs and plunge deep inside the pussy he knew was already wet. He’d have to use every ounce of control, but come heck or high water, she’d come at least once before he did. And when he did—

She licked her lips. The deep groan of an animal in pain filled the room. He realized it had come from his mouth. She raised her eyes to his and frowned.

“What?”

“You licked your lips.” He croaked the words past his dry throat.

“And?”

He looked at her breasts. Yep, one nipple had popped free. It was just the right size and color. He hadn’t realized how much he liked nipples that were small and pink. Her chest rose and fell as she panted. She shifted and another nipple slipped its bounds.

“And I was thinking how good your tongue would feel on my cock.”

Sophie inhaled a gasp. Something went wrong and she choked. She leaned forward, coughing. She placed a hand over her chest and discovered her breasts had slipped from her dress. Heat rushed from her belly, all the way to the top of her head. In spite of how she’d acted in the saloon and while dancing, it had been an act. She was not a wanton eager to use her body to gain gold.

No, you’re eager to use your body for hot sex. Sex like you’ve only dreamed about.

Max Gibson had aroused her from the first moment she’d seen him. Sam had driven her wild, first with his mouth and fingers, and then with the rest of him. And now she wanted everything Josh could give her.

Still leaning forward, she shook her head, making her hair cover her face and bosom. She peeked out between the soft brown strands. Josh waited, thick arms crossed over the broadest chest she’d ever ogled. There were a few men in town who were larger. Gillis MacDougal for one. But Gillis striding around town in nothing but a kilt and boots never made her pussy ache.

Josh Gibson had a body so broad she could drape herself over him and no part of her would touch the bed. Though he was big, he was light on his feet, as she’d discovered when she’d danced with him. Even then, his touch at her waist had tingled. He’d do all right, and then some. She looked up and he caught her eyes.

A hot shiver ran over her body.

This wasn’t Max, the prim, controlled Pinkerton agent. It wasn’t Sam, the slow, sensual lover. It was Josh, a fully aroused male who’d just carried his prize, one he’d paid well for, into a room containing little more than a bed.

His muscles bulged as if he fought to hold himself back. Though she knew he was a gentleman, underneath he had the look of a predator, rough and demanding. She liked his hard body, gained from a life spent chasing, and catching, prey. His commanding presence came from fighting for everything he wanted. Those hard eyes and harder body said he’d not want to take “no” for an answer. But if she really wanted him to stop, he would, because he did not hurt women.

How could she let him know that she wanted to be claimed? He was a man who protected the weak and defenseless. Could she tell him she wanted him to take her even if she screamed?

A tremor rumbled through her at the thought of him taking her roughly as she fought him. She’d dreamed of a man wanting her so much that he couldn’t help using her, hard, until she screamed her release. She’d pleasured herself, night after night, thinking of a man’s hard cock thrusting into her as she struggled. Struggled, but not hard enough that she would escape his callused demands.

How could she push the gentleman out of the way to get at the predator? She had to arouse him until the beast inside erupted and all that mattered was conquering her. She thrilled at the thought of bringing this man past his civilized veneer. Only a strong woman could take such a man, reveling in his sexual demands.

She was strong, and she’d find a way to make sure he knew it.

“Will you do?” she asked, repeating his question.

She swooped her head so most of her hair tumbled back over her right shoulder. His eyes shot to what was now exposed. She felt her nipples crinkle under his gaze. It was as if hot wires connected each to her pussy. She slowly pressed her shoulders back, arching so that her dress parted even more.

“That’s a question I can’t answer right now,” she said. She tilted her head and frowned as if not liking what she saw. “Maybe after you try your best—”

“Take that dress off before I rip it to pieces!”

Josh roared the words, making her shiver in anticipation. She’d never imagined taunting a man, especially one who could easily kill her. His hands could snap her neck like a twig. But she trusted that he’d never harm her. He might bring an edge of pain to sharpen her focus, but it would only be to fan her desire.

“No!” she screamed in reply, making noise for their audience. She stood up slowly, sensuously, using every feminine lure that she could. The demurely lowered eyes slowly rising to meet his in challenge. The dropped shoulder that allowed the satin to slip, catching it just in time to hide her breasts from his eyes. Tempting, arousing, teasing. Begging to be put in her place.

She lifted her arms and pulled her long hair behind her back. It made her breasts rise out of her dress. She arched her back. With her hair out of the way, her erect nipples and breasts were right in front of him.

“You’re playing with fire, woman.”

His rough warning was like that of a hunter ready to leap. His hands clenched and released as if he fought not to grab her. He looked around the room, spotted a chair, and threw it against the door. She jumped at the noise. It survived intact, clattering to the floor. A shout and retreating footsteps suggested someone had been pressing his ear against the door.