Demanding Satisfaction [Bride Train 9] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (8 page)

He had to pant the words between breaths. Her chest heaved as much as his. She trailed her hand down his chest to his nipple. She pinched it. His eyes widened, he choked, and then his eyes seemed to double in size.

“It’s like
that
is it?”

She didn’t know quite what he meant, but she wanted it anyway. She nodded.

“Well then, Mrs. McLeod,” he drawled, “I shore hope you kin take what I’m about to dish out.”

The eager, exuberant boy had returned. But he was a boy with a man’s knowledge of women. One skim of his callused hand over her aching nipples, pressing down just enough, and she was lost. His hand continued down her soft belly to her curls. A raised eyebrow gave an order she obeyed, opening her legs for him. His fingers toyed with her, tightening the tension that had her tingling all over.

“My cock is going to enjoy sliding into this hot pussy,” he said. “Tell me if I need to slow down and give you time.”

“You can do that? I mean, put off your need to meet mine?”

He closed his eyes in an all-over wince, then shot them open. Twin flares of green lit up her life. “I can do it if I have to, because you’re worth it. But I sure hope that your orgasm has prepared you so that I fit pretty dang quickly.”

He kissed her nose and moved to his knees. He took her hand and placed it on his cock. It was long enough that she’d need both hands to cover it. He was thick as well. She could almost close her fingers around him, but not quite. She thought she was hot, but his velvety steel burned her palm.

“You ready, ma’am?”

He spoke as if asking if she needed a hand to step into a wagon. She knew not to laugh at a man while holding his most precious part in her hand, but she couldn’t help the smile.

“Yes please.”

He closed his eyes for a quick moment. “Thank the Lord,” he murmured. Then they shot open and the eager young man was back. “Put me in you,” he said.

It took some maneuvering and she had to let go of him for a moment, but soon she had her legs spread wide as she guided him. The tip of his cock nudged her vulva, and then he was sliding in.

Twin groans filled the room. It felt so good to have his cock easily glide into her.

“Oh, I like that,” she said encouragingly.

Arms straight, chest high above, he pulsed into her. An inch or so at a time, he spread her swollen flesh as he entered. He kept going, and going. Every inch brought more fulfillment until he was seated deep. His blond hair tangled with her dark at their juncture.

She gripped as he pulled out, agonizingly slowly. She watched his cock emerge, glistening with her juices. She barely caught sight of the almost-purple head when he entered her again. This time he went the whole way, excruciatingly slowly.

Again he did it, ever so slow, in and out. Again the tension in her climbed. The third time she couldn’t stand it. She reached down and touched her clit with one hand, her breast with the other. He grinned rakishly.

“That’s it, my love. I can’t reach those lovelies.”

Her clit was so tender from earlier, her nipples the same, that it took little to bring her to the edge. She tried to urge Sam to go faster, but though he gritted his teeth, eyes jammed shut above her, he kept the same wonderful snail pace.

“Faster, Sam! I need to come!”

“Thank God,” he muttered. Caught almost out of her, he slammed home. She gasped and groaned. He stared down at her as he thrust again, still too slow but deliciously hard. “Mine!” he said between teeth clenched in effort.

Her busy fingers found what she needed. She was almost there when he slammed deep and hard inside her. Yes! He dropped to her chest and grasped her shoulders, pumping hard and fast. She freed her hands and gripped his bottom. It was good, but she wanted more. She lifted her knees, exposing more of her pussy to him. He almost howled as he came. Hard, fast, desperate, his strokes set her off again. She threw back her head.

“Oh, God, Sam. Yes!”

“Sophie!” he shouted, pumping again and again as her orgasm faded.

Sweat-slicked chests heaved against each other. She looked up, barely able to open her heavy eyes. The wicked boy was back.

“You’re gonna sleep well tonight, sugar.”

He winked before snuggling down onto his back. He pulled her over him and tucked her head under his chin. His arm went around her, both possessive and protective.

“You can’t stay,” she said, though she wished she didn’t have to.

“Just until you fall asleep,” he murmured in return. “Now hush, sugar. I got you.”

“You got back late,” grumbled Max as he and Sam travelled the road toward Bannack City. The mountains to the east blocked the sunrise, but the sky was a lighter gray than when they started out. “Were the Jennets fighting again?”

Neither the banker, Hugh, or his wife, Eudora, were pleased at having come down in the world. She’d been rescued from the possibility of murder or worse, and then left in jail rather than being returned home. Sheriff Barstow ordered it mostly to protect her, but also because they had suspicions she hired Joe Sheldrake to kill her husband. Max had to shake his head when he heard he’d hired the same man to do his wife in.

But Hugh had hauled Eudora out of jail on his return to town. He could do nothing less with her screaming blue murder to get out. Sheldrake’s death made it difficult to prove if either wanted the other dead.

That didn’t matter as much to the Pinkerton Agency as discovering whether Eudora had stolen a large amount of gold from her father’s bank, years earlier. His death occurred six months before the Jennets arrived in Tanner’s Ford, flush with enough gold to start a bank. That was nine years ago. Since then their finances had taken a beating, mostly through bad railroad investments encouraged by Orville Rivers. The man accusing Eudora of theft was her much younger brother.

Her father had lavished attention on Eudora, his only child, for years. But the much-anticipated arrival of a cherished son meant she’d had to share her dear papa’s attention. And when he died, he left everything to his son. That included the right of her younger brother to dictate her life and economic circumstances. Max believed Eudora had quickly found a husband she could control, stolen the money with Jennet’s help, and headed West. With little training, and Eudora having burned many records, it took years for her brother to realize what she’d done. But with the aid of the Pinkertons, he’d finally tracked her to Tanner’s Ford.

Since her husband had her released from jail there’d been many fights and loud accusations between them. Many ears had listened and they’d discovered enough to haul the couple East to face charges. But Smythe, and Isaac, were priorities.

Sam cleared his throat to speak. “Nope,” he said with too much satisfaction. “The Jennets were quiet for once.”

Sam slid his eyes toward Max. His amused expression usually meant he’d done something Max would not like.

“So,” Sam continued with a smirk, “I finished that kiss Sophie started.”

Max curled his free hand into a fist. His brother sounded far too pleased with himself. That meant he did more than kiss. The cold wind blowing down Max’s collar did little to stifle the heat that rushed over his body. It was due to anger because Sam wasn’t doing his job, of course. Not lust. And that anger had to be dampened before he could trust himself to reply.

It took him far too many minutes to force an icy calm through his body and douse the volcano. This was why he had to retire from the Agency. He’d had bouts of sudden fury lately, the type that would cause him to miss clues, perhaps even act rashly. He must gain better control of himself if they were to finish their assignments without someone ending up injured, or dead. Leaving that woman behind was best for all of them.

“Sophie McLeod is a client,” he replied stiffly. “Even if we were free, she isn’t the type of woman to trifle with. Keep your hands off her or there’ll be trouble.”

“Too late. I showed her what pleasure’s all about. Got a fair bit myself, as well.” Sam’s expression turned sly. “You’ve checked her out enough to know she’s a good cook and housekeeper. Last night I discovered that underneath the prim and proper mask she’s had to wear, she’s a lusty, eager woman. Even better, she tastes like—”

“Shut up!” Max pressed his lips together, furious at himself for letting his brother goad him.

“Lily Thatcher says Sophie wants to share her bed with three men, just like the other valley women.” Sam smirked with a younger brother’s satisfaction. “We could give her a head start on it. She’s already enjoyed one eager Gibson. Maybe you’ll be next.”

Max’s cock jerked at the thought. He twisted his body, turning away from Sam to check their back trail. He wanted Sophie McLeod in his bed at least as much as Sam did. But he’d made an oath to put his Pinkerton work first, and he never, ever, went back on his word. Unlike his father, he was a man of principle. He would do anything to ensure he’d never become that man.

They needed a wife, but after they finished their assignment, they’d first need a lusty woman to take the edge off. Sophie might be the one to help him release his frustration, but not while she was a client. She was far too demanding to be a wife. He wanted his woman to obey him, trusting he knew best.

Twin trails, from the hooves of their horses disturbing the dew, trailed behind them. As soon as the sun came up, there’d be no trace of their passing. That was the way he liked things. They worked hard to be like ghosts, completing their assignments with as little notice as possible. They were not the type to start a fight unless a distraction was needed. Luckily, the men they sought were usually cowards and hid in shadows. Thoughts of work cooled his body as always. He faced the dawning sun once more.

“If we don’t keep Miz McLeod interested, she might find someone else before we finish this job,” said Sam, refusing to give up. “And that would be a waste of a good woman.”

Max snorted his disgust. “She’s bound to her hotel and isn’t going anywhere. She’ll still be here when we’ve returned our badges to Mr. Pinkerton. Then we’ll come back and see about settling down. You’ll stay away from Tanner’s Ford until this assignment is over.”

Sam grimaced at the order, which Max knew was more of a token protest. Then he sighed.

“It won’t be too soon until we can stay in one place for more than a few days. I want to put my head down in my own bed every night. Beside a willing woman,” he added. “One who works hard, enjoys making babies, and cares for her family.”

The silent “unlike Ma” hung between them in the chill. Max remembered too much about growing up on that farm. Only after they were orphaned did he wonder if his father had killed the ones who’d built the cabin and first tilled the ground. His father was too lazy to do that much work. In any case, he’d gotten what he deserved when he was rousted in turn. It was only luck that he and his two brothers were working on the far side of the well-forested hills when the attack came. Otherwise they’d be dead as well. It was the only home any of them remembered. Few of the memories were good.

“I want to come home every night to a hot supper and eager woman just as much as you,” said Max. “But we have a couple of assignments to complete first. Mrs. Thatcher and Mrs. McLeod hired the Pinkerton Agency to catch Mr. Isaac. Pinkertons always get their man and we won’t stop until our client is satisfied. That means Isaac in custody or dead.” He absently rubbed a scratch on the back of his hand. “Someone knows things, and they’ll speak. It’s only a matter of time.”

“I’m with Lily on this one,” said Sam. “I want him dead.” His smile didn’t reach the ice in his eyes. “But not quick like Orville Rivers. I want the sadistic bastard to die slow and hard.”

Max wanted the same, but he was the senior agent and wouldn’t say anything that would encourage his brother to flout the law. Investigating the trail of tortured and murdered women was more of a smoke screen to their superiors. They’d been sent west to investigate how counterfeit shares had been removed from a railroad vault. Someone very high up had done the deed, and he needed to be caught.

The investigation at the top had fizzled out. The Gibsons were therefore told to start at the bottom. The connection in the middle should know which senior official had done the deed. Initial enquiries suggested Frederick Smythe and Judge Stickley were most likely to end up with the shares. The railroad, of course, wanted this kept quiet. Because their own men and the law were likely to sell out for gold, the Pinkertons were brought in.

In the course of their investigation Max and Sam discovered various men, including highly placed officials, had found amazing wealth with surprising ease. More than a few unexplained deaths had also occurred. Most of the deaths were nobodies who had mining claims with high gold yields. For no logical reason, they sold their claims and then disappeared. So did talkative witnesses.

Without permission to dig deeper they could find
no proof. Unlike Pinkerton
agents, elected and appointed government men could be bribed and corrupted. So could those working for the railroad. Evidence suggested they often were.

These crimes were so great Max couldn’t even write down what they’d discovered. He wanted to end his career on a high note by bringing these high-ranking bunko artists to justice. He’d sent their younger brother, Joshua, to speak to Allan Pinkerton directly. The wire Max had just received wasn’t even written in code. All it said was “no.” Max could grind his teeth all he liked. His orders were clear.