to make up for it when there were so many other men to choose from.
“Those same women would condemn me for having set foot in a jail, much less spending three days in a cell.”
“Frank locked you up for your own good.”
She pulled back, but he didn’t let her escape. “I was minding my own business walking past the bank when I was accosted by that horrid bully, Big Joe! I was only defending myself so why wasn’t he locked up, instead of me?”
“Joe works for the mayor, who might order him released immediately to go after you again. Putting you in a cell was the only way to keep you safe.”
“Your mayor would have let Big Joe marry me, condemning me to a short, horrid life. That is not right!”
Trace nodded. “Something’s strange between those two. Mayor Rivers is as smooth as a flannel-mouthed liar but no one’s caught him out yet.” When Beth frowned, he realized this was no way to talk on his wedding night.
“ I told Frank I’d marry any woman to keep her from Big Joe’s fists.” He caressed her cheek with his knuckle. “Then I saw you standing nose to nose with Charlie Newton. There you were with dirty toes, scraggly hair, and an attitude bigger than Montana Territory.” He snorted a laugh and shook his head. “You, Mrs. Elliott, are my kind of woman.” He grazed his thumbs against her nipples once more. A blaze lit her eyes and a moan escaped her clenched jaw.
“You’re beautiful, but that can change. I want a wife with a strong backbone. One who’ll live with her husband and his brothers and not give a damn what’s whispered in town.” He flicked her nipples again. This time she stepped closer, brushing her belly against his hard length. He bit back a needy hiss.
“Women with opinions and a fiery tongue have passion. I want that. I may not agree, but we can work it out, together.”
“You mean that? You won’t tell me to ‘hush, woman’?”
He waggled his head, debating how to answer. Truth won out as usual. “I expect I might sometimes. But that won’t stop you. I can see you got a brain and I expect you’ll use it.” He leaned close, nose to nose. “But don’t fight with me in town. A man who can’t keep his wife in line is seen as weak. I’ve never been weak. If you sass me, I’ll have to spank you.”
She reared back. “Spank me? There’s no way you’re ever going to do that!” She squeaked the words but her nostrils flared.
“I won’t have to if you behave, wife.” He purred the words, both a threat and a promise.
She pouted, her eyebrows low. He knew she’d push his limits each and every day. One day, she’d sass him in town just to see if he’d follow through. He would. He couldn’t wait to haul her across his lap and paddle her right through her dress. She’d scream bloody murder, but he’d do it, even if he had to sit on the boardwalk with his feet in the mud. As soon as he got her on Elliott land, he’d do it again. This time he’d strip her naked and use the flat of his hand on her bare bottom. She’d be soaking wet by then, desperate for him to kiss her better before plunging deep.
He closed his eyes and fought for control, pulling up memories of winter blizzards and plunging in icy spring ponds. Anything to cool the raging heat demanding he take her, hard. Now!
Only when he thought he could look at her without ripping off that scrap of nothing and thrusting her against the wall, did he speak again.
“I want you to enjoy my touch, Beth. When I enter you the first time, it may hurt a bit. I’m a big man. But I’ll pleasure you before and after.”
His speech over, he let himself look down. Her nightgown, if that see-through cloth could be called clothing, had a line of buttons down the front, all the way to her belly. Two pink peaks, each the size of the tip of his little finger, jutted toward his chest. She was his now, and he’d cherish every inch of her. Again and again.
“You like pleasure, Mrs. Elliott?”
She looked away
“Those same women would condemn me for having set foot in a jail, much less spending three days in a cell.”
“Frank locked you up for your own good.”
She pulled back, but he didn’t let her escape. “I was minding my own business walking past the bank when I was accosted by that horrid bully, Big Joe! I was only defending myself so why wasn’t he locked up, instead of me?”
“Joe works for the mayor, who might order him released immediately to go after you again. Putting you in a cell was the only way to keep you safe.”
“Your mayor would have let Big Joe marry me, condemning me to a short, horrid life. That is not right!”
Trace nodded. “Something’s strange between those two. Mayor Rivers is as smooth as a flannel-mouthed liar but no one’s caught him out yet.” When Beth frowned, he realized this was no way to talk on his wedding night.
“ I told Frank I’d marry any woman to keep her from Big Joe’s fists.” He caressed her cheek with his knuckle. “Then I saw you standing nose to nose with Charlie Newton. There you were with dirty toes, scraggly hair, and an attitude bigger than Montana Territory.” He snorted a laugh and shook his head. “You, Mrs. Elliott, are my kind of woman.” He grazed his thumbs against her nipples once more. A blaze lit her eyes and a moan escaped her clenched jaw.
“You’re beautiful, but that can change. I want a wife with a strong backbone. One who’ll live with her husband and his brothers and not give a damn what’s whispered in town.” He flicked her nipples again. This time she stepped closer, brushing her belly against his hard length. He bit back a needy hiss.
“Women with opinions and a fiery tongue have passion. I want that. I may not agree, but we can work it out, together.”
“You mean that? You won’t tell me to ‘hush, woman’?”
He waggled his head, debating how to answer. Truth won out as usual. “I expect I might sometimes. But that won’t stop you. I can see you got a brain and I expect you’ll use it.” He leaned close, nose to nose. “But don’t fight with me in town. A man who can’t keep his wife in line is seen as weak. I’ve never been weak. If you sass me, I’ll have to spank you.”
She reared back. “Spank me? There’s no way you’re ever going to do that!” She squeaked the words but her nostrils flared.
“I won’t have to if you behave, wife.” He purred the words, both a threat and a promise.
She pouted, her eyebrows low. He knew she’d push his limits each and every day. One day, she’d sass him in town just to see if he’d follow through. He would. He couldn’t wait to haul her across his lap and paddle her right through her dress. She’d scream bloody murder, but he’d do it, even if he had to sit on the boardwalk with his feet in the mud. As soon as he got her on Elliott land, he’d do it again. This time he’d strip her naked and use the flat of his hand on her bare bottom. She’d be soaking wet by then, desperate for him to kiss her better before plunging deep.
He closed his eyes and fought for control, pulling up memories of winter blizzards and plunging in icy spring ponds. Anything to cool the raging heat demanding he take her, hard. Now!
Only when he thought he could look at her without ripping off that scrap of nothing and thrusting her against the wall, did he speak again.
“I want you to enjoy my touch, Beth. When I enter you the first time, it may hurt a bit. I’m a big man. But I’ll pleasure you before and after.”
His speech over, he let himself look down. Her nightgown, if that see-through cloth could be called clothing, had a line of buttons down the front, all the way to her belly. Two pink peaks, each the size of the tip of his little finger, jutted toward his chest. She was his now, and he’d cherish every inch of her. Again and again.
“You like pleasure, Mrs. Elliott?”
She looked away
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