Sweet Justice (9 page)

His voice sounded almost reverent, as if the state of my arousal was an indication on the status of our marriage. Perhaps it was, for I was quite pleased with my husband at the moment, especially when he slipped one finger very slightly into my pussy, only far enough to run over that specific spot that had me dripping and writhing for him. But when he slipped his other hand lower and touched my back entrance, my perspective changed entirely.

"You can't mean—"

"Oh yes. I'm not going to take you there tonight, for I'm too big and you are much too tight. For now though, I'll just play—and make you come. Remember, I paid to fuck this ass first."

His finger brushed ever so lightly over that forbidden spot and I imagined him to possibly be correct, for the feelings just the slightest touch of his finger elicited heated my skin and softened all of my limbs. It was intense and decadent and dark.

"Is this something people really do?" I asked, unclear about this illicit act.

"Oh yes. And as my little whore, you're going to love it."

He seemed so confident, so sure that what he was doing would be something I found pleasurable. Based on the brief touch of his finger, it was possible I might, but having his entire digit deep within me sounded painful. And his cock? I had no concept of how he would fit. It was so snug when he fucked my pussy, but my back entrance? I was doubtful.

"Take a deep breath, sweetheart. Relax."

"It's hard to relax when you have a finger that wants into your ass," I grumbled.

He paused, tossed his head back and laughed, rich and deep. "Oh, a whore who has a sense of humor. Don't taunt me, sweetheart, for most men would take you now, whether you were prepared or not. I like my woman willing and pliant."

Another chink of that wall broke and my willpower to fight him in this most unusual of attentions ceased. I sighed into the quilt and let all of my muscles relax. I had to trust that he would take care of me, especially in this most unusual of places.

As soon as I gave up all resistance, his finger pushed past the ring of muscle that had been resisting his entry to fill me to the first knuckle. I groaned; I couldn't help the almost feral sound that escaped my lips. The sensation was unlike anything I'd ever felt before, anything Wiley had wrought from my body. It was jangly and intense and...odd, but while the stretching burned slightly, the feel was unlike anything I'd ever imagined. The combination of his fingers in both of my holes was too much, too powerful, too
intense.
I came, my entire body tightening like a bow, my inner walls clenching down on both of his digits. It seemed, all of a sudden, that just the very tips of his fingers weren't enough. My body wanted more, wanted to be filled completely, not just my pussy but my ass as well.

"Good girl," he said. "You are so beautiful when you come. Your nipples are pink little tips that I want to suck. Your ass is so tight it's all but strangling my finger. I'll come back and fuck this ass and you're going to love it. I promise. You're still coming? Such a good little whore."

His words continued, some offering praise, some vowing further carnal delights. Words such as
whore,
reminding me that we were in a brothel. We were playacting, but only a little, for I wasn't faking anything and I had a feeling neither was Wiley.

WILEY

"Sweetheart, you were better than I was expecting. I think I need to find out how much you cost for the night." I pulled on my clothes, ready to go and find Miss Carter. If she really did run the establishment, then she'd be the one collecting the money.

Piper tugged at the blanket to cover herself as she watched me. "All night?"

I looked at her over my shoulder and grinned. She had the well-fucked look about her and I couldn't help but feel powerful knowing I made her look that way. "Seems you're more of a virgin than I thought. I think it'll be fun to leave my mark in more than one place. Get dressed," I added.

She frowned. "I thought you just said you wanted me for the night."

"I'm not leaving you here all alone, sweetheart. Some other man might lay claim and I'm not done with you."

It was clear my meaning, for she gave up on her modesty in exchange for leaving. It took longer for her to dress and I became impatient, not even letting her finish the buttons up the front of her dress before I tugged her out into the hall.

At the top of the stairs a whore was leading a man by the hand, most likely toward her room.

"Where can I find the owner?"

She frowned, but pointed. "Down the stairs and her office is toward the back."

I didn't delay, just grasped Piper's hand in mine and made my way there. Glancing down at Piper, I offered her a small smile as I squeezed her hand in reassurance before I knocked on the door.

A woman called for us to enter.

She was older than I thought, perhaps in her thirties, definitely older than Kevin Sinclair. If she'd been involved in the recent stage robbery, then she'd enlisted new men to help her, clearly using her charms to do so, and she wasn't lacking in them. She was actually quite beautiful. She had blonde hair in perfect ringlets artfully styled. Her dress was a pale blue silk with a bright sheen to it. Her breasts were ample and on full display above the low cut of her bodice. In the past I might have even taken a tumble upstairs with her.

"I'm interested in paying for this little lady for the night."

"She's a good cock sucker then?" Her perfectly curved brow arched. She had been watching.

"Very. But it sounds as if you already know that."

She turned to her desk, opened a drawer and turned back, a gun in hand.

"Yes, Mr. Easton. I know many things."

I felt Piper's tight grip on my arm as I shoved her behind me.

"Miss Carter, I presume?"

She offered a tight smile, which was all the confirmation I needed.

I felt like we were in a showdown, for this was a fight I had to win. She'd killed my father and robbed several stages and a train. She hadn't done it alone, but she was guilty. I wanted justice for my father and having her behind bars, or even swinging by a rope around her neck, would do it nicely. It would be sweet justice to see her dead.

"I heard there was a bounty hunter in town and it is quite the coincidence you took such a fancy to my new girl. Your use of your employees is quite ingenious, especially one related to Kevin Sinclair. Piper's such an unusual name. You should remember whores don't use their real names."

"You can't get out of here," I told her.

She looked at me in mock horror, and then laughed. "Oh really? I believe I'm the one holding the gun."

The door opened and the man from the parlor entered. He was clearly the muscle of the place for he was built like a whiskey barrel and had no neck. A scar ran down his left cheek, and I doubted he knew how to smile.

"Kill him, but not here," she told the man.

"No!" Piper shouted, pulling me back away from the man. She was not helping one bit. The man approached but I fought him. It was hard to block his punches with Piper behind me.

"You, you're coming with me. The Sinclairs have been useful in the past and I have no doubt you'll be even more...motivated than your brother." Miss Carter shifted her weapon to aim at Piper. What she planned for her wasn't mentioned, but I could only imagine. Kevin Sinclair, like most men, were led around by their dick, which made them only so helpful to a woman like Miss Carter. Piper, on the other hand, wouldn't offer such challenges and would be easier to handle. I was distracted by the gun, and using my body to shield her as best I could, when the man caught me with a wild punch.

"Wiley!" I heard before the world went black.

PIPER

"He's going to find me," I vowed as I stumbled into a pitch-black space, hitting the far wall without my hands to stop me. My wrists were bound before me, the blood long gone from my fingers. I flexed them but they were numb, as the binding was too snug for comfort. Miss Carter was silhouetted in the dim light of the doorway. We'd ridden half the night to some ranch or homestead, the direction unclear. I did know that I was alone with no one to know where I was.

"No, he won't. He's dead. Arthur always takes care of it. Having the bounty hunter unconscious makes it even easier."

The word
always
was not missed. How many times had they done this before? Her confidence had mine faltering. Was Wiley dead? Arthur was a big man, much bigger even than Wiley and no doubt had the skill and lack of conscience to see it done.

"Rest. You're going to need it," she replied, slamming the door shut. I heard the metal of a lock sliding into place securing me in this pitch-black room. The floor was wood beneath my feet but there were no windows, nothing to let in light except for a tiny seam beneath the door. I lowered myself to the floor and leaned against the wall. I was exhausted, not only physically but mentally as well. I thought of Wiley and what was happening to him, nothing else was important. What the woman intended for me was also unknown to me, but I was still alive. She considered me useful, somehow, which gave me hope that an opportunity to escape would arise.

Nothing would happen now. If I was weary, so was Miss Carter. Nothing would happen before the sun rose and there was nothing I could do to help Wiley at the moment either. I lay down on the hard wood, my knees tucked up as I stared at the sliver of dim light. The air was still, but cool, and I shivered, remembering the feel of Wiley's chest as my pillow, his warmth, the sound of his heart beating against my ear. A tear slipped down my cheek at the realization that the man I'd hated was really the man I loved. Danger and imminent death brought out true emotion, made one realize many things, stripping away the heated emotions and displayed the unvarnished truth. I closed my eyes and pictured his wicked grin, the intensity in his eyes just before he kissed me, the abandoned look on his face as he came. I fell asleep to this, hoping beyond all hopes that they would not just be a memory, but that I would get to see the real thing again soon.

WILEY

Miss Carter's henchman was no challenge for me once I realized Miss Carter had taken Piper. The man didn't stand a chance as he drove a wagon out into the prairie. He'd dumped me in the back while I was still unconscious but had only bound my wrists. Perhaps he was a cocky bastard and didn't think I'd put up much of a fight, or maybe he'd hit his other victims—surely there were others—much harder. I had motivation and love on my side and the man's brawn was no match.

With her family most likely dead now, Piper had no one. I had no one. No family, besides each other and I couldn't allow her to fend for herself. Miss Carter was cunning and could easily use another woman in her criminal activity. This and this alone reassured me that Piper would remain alive and whole for at least the short term. When her usefulness ended, so would her life.

I hadn't wanted a bride, but I'd gotten one. Piper most certainly hadn't wanted the man who'd hauled her to jail for a groom, but I'd claimed her. I hadn't known what love was, but discovered it readily enough. I imagined Piper felt the same, but neither of us had said the words. There had been no time, or perhaps I just hadn't realized it until now, until the dire realization that I could lose her. I didn't know Miss Carter's plans, but this bastard was going to tell me. And when he was beneath me on the hard ground beside the wagon and as I held his gun to his head, he did.

PIPER

I was thirsty and stiff, my body aching from the floor. Sunlight came through the slit in the door and I must have slept, but I had no idea how long. I was clearly in an ice house, although it was not in use. I remembered the few steps I'd taken before being shoved into the room and it was still fairly cool in the space, even with the sun up. This knowledge did me no good, for as I tried the door, it held fast. That there was a lock on an ice house only meant others had been kept prisoner there before.

Time passed and I searched for a weapon, but there was nothing. No loose boards, no rocks, nothing. I sat and waited, thirsty and only my thoughts for company.

I must have dozed off, for the rattling of the lock made me stir. I pushed myself up to standing as the door opened, the sunlight blinding me and I held my bound hands to my eyes. Miss Carter came into the room quickly as if shoved, a second person behind her. When he stepped inside, the sun hit him so that I could see him clearly.

"Wiley!" I cried, dashing to his side and gripping his arm. He looked so good, so angry, so...whole.

In his hands he held a gun, aimed solely on Miss Carter.

"Let's get you out of here, sweetheart."

I nodded and practically ran out into the sunshine, squinting.

Wiley and Miss Carter followed.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, looking me over, running a hand over my hair. It had long since fallen from the pins and hung wild down my back.

I shook my head, but wiggled my hands as best I could. He gave a pointed look at the sour faced Miss Carter as he pulled a knife from a sheath attached to his belt. With deft hands, he cut through the binding and I rubbed at my chafed wrists. Feeling came back painfully, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered but Wiley being alive.

"Should I kill her?" he asked me, his expression murderous. If I said yes, he'd have shot her then and there, I had no doubt.

I looked to Miss Carter. She was not as meticulously dressed as the previous night. Her blue dress was now wrinkled, her hair in disarray and her expression much less confident.

"Why did you accept the job to find her?" I prompted.

He narrowed his gaze and the hand holding his gun tightened. "To bring my father's killers to justice."

Miss Carter's eyes widened at this. "I didn't know—" she sputtered.

"You didn't know what?" Wiley growled. "The people you killed were real? That they had families? Friends? Lives? My father was all I had, and you took him from me. You took loved ones from others, too."

I remembered Wiley's bitterness toward his mother and could only imagine the bond he shared with his father after her departure. Perhaps he took up the profession of a bounty hunter because he needed to make bad people accountable for their actions. He couldn't punish his mother for all the hurt she'd caused, but helping others receive even a small measure of justice slowly healed, or at least soothed, his own measure of anger.

"Will killing her bring you the revenge you're looking for?" I asked. I went to stand beside him, my hand once again on his arm.

He cocked the gun and Miss Carter's cheeks paled. She took a step back but there was nowhere for her to go. She couldn't outrun a bullet or a man set on vengeance.

"No, but it would certainly be sweet justice."

I shook my head. "You're better than this. Better than she is, than my family. Take her to town. Let her stand before the judge. Let her pay for the crimes so the other victims will know justice has been served." My words were soft, soothing. "It's over, Wiley. It's over."

For a full minute he just glared at Miss Carter, then he lowered the gun and looked down at me, his eyes full of...love? Hope? "No, sweetheart, it's just beginning."

WILEY

Piper had been right. Handing Miss Carter off to the sheriff of Carey felt good, felt final. I knew the man would keep a close and vigilant eye on her until the circuit judge came around. She'd get the trial she deserved and the conviction warranted. Everyone in Carey and the rest of the Montana Territory would know those who'd robbed the first set of stage coaches and train had been brought to justice.

As I led Piper to the hotel, she asked, "Will you leave to track down the men who helped Miss Carter with the most recent stage robbery?" I could hear the fear and worry lacing her words.

I stopped on the boardwalk and took her hand. Her eyes lifted to mine. They were so green, with the longest pale lashes. "No. I'm done. As I told you before, it's time to be a rancher now. I've got my spread, I've got my cattle and I've got myself a bride."

She smiled brilliantly, and I knew I'd made the right decision. I left the past with the sheriff, handing off not only a prisoner, but my life as a bounty hunter as well.

I started walking again, pulling her along with me. "I'm sick of hotels. This will be the last one we stay in. Tomorrow, we ride for the ranch where I will claim you in my bed. Our bed. Is there anything you want, sweetheart, while we're still in town? I don't plan to come this way again anytime soon."

Piper pulled on my arm and I stopped once again. A tremulous smile formed on her lips. "I...I was wondering something."

"Oh?" I asked, brushing her hair back from her face. I couldn't stop touching her. I needed the contact, craved it.

"There's one thing that only you can do for me. To give me something I've always wanted."

"Really?" I asked, intrigued.

She nodded and bit her lip before speaking. "A baby."

My heart flipped, then settled, as if it had been upside down my entire life and now, with Piper, it was in the perfect place. The idea of her growing big with my seed—that we'd make a beautiful little girl with wheat colored hair—had me realizing that my entire life was standing before me.

"Perhaps we've already made one," I told her, for I'd taken her readily enough since we wed.

She shrugged and looked up at me through her lashes. "It wouldn't hurt to continue our efforts."

"No, it wouldn't hurt in the least." I grinned. "In fact, it will be quite pleasurable."

I had haste on my side now, tugging her as I practically ran to our hotel.

PIPER

Many things had become clear when I realized how perilously close I'd been to losing Wiley. I knew I'd been wrong, I knew he could take care of not only me, but himself as well, but more importantly that I didn't want to live without him. Perhaps when we first wed I was unhappy, but the man had proved me wrong at every turn. And now, as he shut the hotel room door closed behind us and saw his needy expression—for I knew what Wiley looked like when he was highly aroused—there was nowhere else I wanted to be. I wasn't a Sinclair any longer. I was an Easton. I was Mrs. Wiley Easton and I was proud of it.

I curved my hand around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. Perhaps this was our
real
first kiss, for we both wanted it. We both meant all the longing and love that we put into it. The judge may have married us days ago, but this kiss made it truly real.

We were no longer in danger and that burden was now gone; Wiley had taken it from me and resolved the problem. He was my protector, my lover, my husband. And as we kissed, our tongues tangling, we were no longer sharing only part of ourselves. We were one, and soon, our bodies would be as well.

Wiley lifted his head. "Are you mine?" His cheeks were flushed, his eyes serious yet narrowed in need, our breaths mingled.

I nodded against the bed. "Yes," I whispered.

He moved away from me to recline on the bed, the frame squeaking beneath his heavy weight. "Then show me. Take off your clothes and show me what's mine."

The picture he painted with his words had my eyes flaring and wetness pooling between my thighs. I turned and faced him. He was reclined and leaning on one elbow, relaxed, yet I knew that he would have me beneath him and his cock buried deep inside of me if he chose. He was in complete control now and I loved it. I loved him, so I did as he bid. I knew that if I pleased him in this, he would most certainly please me as well. Not once or twice, but all day long.

I raised my hands to the top buttons of my dress and saw that his eyes followed. I undid one button and his nostrils flared. I undid another and his lips parted. Another and his fingers clenched in the blanket. It was very heady to see my effect on him, for although I was the one removing my clothes; I was getting a similar show. I felt like a woman on a stage in a very naughty act, but with Wiley as my audience, I felt decadent and wanton.

I also felt powerful, for beneath the front placket of his pants, the thick outline of his cock was blatantly visible. I couldn't help the grin that escaped as I undid the last button. I lifted one hand and undid the tiny button there. I took a step toward him and held out my wrist. Wiley looked at it, took it in his big hand and raised it to his lips. He kissed the tender inside, just where my pulse point was. He undid the button at my other wrist, and then kissed the inside of that one as well. The softness and heat of his lips made my body heat. My blood felt hot and sluggish.

Stepping back, I pushed the bodice of the dress off my shoulders, and then let the material gather about my waist so only my corset covered my torso. Wiley's eyes were riveted to the skin that was exposed as I undid the stays; although I realized that perhaps I could taunt him, let him feel as hot and needy by playing the temptress. My breasts were almost free of the corset when I stopped. The top half of my nipples were exposed and the cleavage the half open corset created was plump, full and very decadent.

Wiley's jaw was clenched tight and his eyes narrowed.

Placing one foot up on the edge of the bed, I lifted the hem of my skirt up over my leg, exposing my boot and my stocking clad calf, then further still to uncover my knee, then the tops of the stocking with the pink bow and then the creamy flesh above.

"Jesus," Wiley muttered, his eyes riveted to my leg.

"Oops," I said, my voice as innocent as I could make it. "I forgot to take off my boots."

I worked one off quickly, and then moved to the ribbon just above my knee. Tugging on it, it came loose, then I slid the white stocking down my leg, exposing my skin to his view, one inch at a time. As I leaned forward to slide it off my foot, my breasts practically spilled from the loose confines of my corset.

"Are you trying to kill me, sweetheart?" He pushed up so he sat directly in front of me. Our faces were so close that I could kiss him if I just leaned forward an inch. His eyes were so green, so clear, and so desperate.

I didn't move from my position, but continued to glance up at him through my lashes. "Whatever do you mean?" I asked sweetly.

"If you are, it's a great way to go. But, Piper, I don't want to make a fool of myself and come in my pants. You're just too damn hot. If you're going to tempt me this way, I want you to suck me off the first time so I can last all day for you."

It was my turn to take a deep breath. "You mean come more than once?"

He nodded. "If you suck me off, I'll be able to pay attention to you and work you hard."

The idea was very appealing and he was the most aroused I'd ever seen him. His control was incredible, for he'd be fucking me right now if it snapped.

"All right," I replied. I switched legs, quickly removed my other boot and stocking, yet this time with more haste than temptation. I placed my hands on his thighs and lowered to my knees between them. Opening his pants, his cock sprang free and right toward my mouth. I was always amazed at the sight of it; so big and thick with the bulging veins and broad head. I licked my lips in anticipation, for I knew what it felt like against my tongue, knew the sounds Wiley made when I took him as deep as I could. His deep groan filled the room as I sucked on it, hollowing out my cheeks as I licked around the ridge of the flared head. Grabbing the base in a tight grip, I took him deep, reassured that my hand would keep him from going in too far. So I set to work. It was my mission to have his hips rising off the bed, to make the sounds from his mouth incoherent and desperate, to have his hands tangle in my hair and guide me to how he liked it. But I knew he wouldn't take long to reach his pleasure, for I felt him swell and lengthen in my mouth and his hand tightened against my scalp.

"So good, sweetheart. I'm going to come so take it all." His hips thrust up and he stiffened, groaning, as I felt his seed coat my tongue. He was salty and tangy and it made me continue to suck and work him until he was spent and his hand dropped to the bed beside him.

I pulled off him, swallowed, and then wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

"Such a good girl, Piper. You're incredible at that. You had me so worked up with your little strip show that I couldn't wait a moment longer."

He grabbed me beneath my arms and pulled me up just as he was falling backward so I lay on top of him. We kissed, our mouths open, our tongues tangling, our passion great. I could feel his cock against my belly, still hard.