His Golden Touch [Gold Rush 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) by Tish Domenick

suck in her breath at the ripple of muscles he displayed as he scrubbed himself. He was only half buttoned up when he entered the kitchen.
    He picked up the novel she’d left on the counter. “Do you like this author, Ellis Bell?”
    “I’ve never read anything else by him or her.”
    “Her? It’s a masculine name.”
    “Yes, but have you read Wuthering Heights ?”
    “I haven’t, but I’ve heard about it. It has a mystical theme, does it not?”
    “Yes, but it’s a love story only a woman could write.”
    “Men believe in love.” He moved very near to her at the stove. They stood eye to eye for several seconds.
    Hannah picked up a plate and filled it with eggs and bacon. She shoved it at him. “Breakfast is ready.”
    He took the plate and sat at the table. She joined him with her own plate. They talked through the meal and ate very little, so engrossed in each other were they. The literature of the day, the possibility of a civil war, nothing was out of bounds. Hannah hadn’t had such a stimulating discussion since she had left school.
    “Before I overstay my welcome, I’d better leave and let you get ready for school. Do you want me to clean up?
    “No, I have water heated for the plates, and I’m going to let them soak.”
    She saw Rocco to the door, wishing they had more time to talk. The kitchen was cold as she packed a lunch. The horse and buggy waited at the front door with old Adele pawing the ground, impatient to be off. Her husbands were off to do the day’s work and nowhere in sight. Had they tired of her already? What had gone wrong this morning? Her body felt a void, an unease, a need, and the morning with Rocco had only intensified her longing.
    She flicked the reins, and Addy pranced down the lane. The horse knew the way without guidance. They’d been making this same trek every day for two years.
    Hannah didn’t know how she survived the school day, but the children were filing out and whooping it up in the yard as they scurried home. She was alone as she had been this morning. The unfulfilled ache had not dissipated. It had grown stronger. She stuffed papers in her satchel and did up the buckle. With every movement her anger escalated. Her husbands would give her what she wanted tonight or she’d throw them both out.
    The schoolhouse door slammed. She twirled to face Rocco Ponti. “Howdy, Miz Hannah. Just stopped by to see if you needed anything.”
    “Why would I need anything?”
    “Dunno, just thought you looked a mite peaked when you left this morning.”
    “I’m perfectly fine.”
    He stepped close. She backed into the desk. He moved in closer. “Ex–excuse me, Rocco…”
    He leaned into her, causing his hair to fall against her forehead. His breath warmed her cheek. “You look tense and in need of relaxation. Brady never came into the bunkhouse this morning. I wonder where he got to all night. You don’t happen to know, do you, Hannah?”
    “N–no, I don’t. Would you kindly move back a bit?”
    “If you really want me to.” He ran his hands down her hips and scrunched up her skirt, raising it inch by inch. “Do you really want me to, darlin’?”
    Air around her ankles didn’t cool her, nor did the heat inside her dissipate when her skirt reached her thighs. He somehow switched his hands from her dress to her flesh as he continued to raise her skirt by pushing it up while he was caressing her legs. Her nipples pebbled, and her pussy dampened. Her dress reached her waist. He slid two fingers under her bloomers and whisked them off. A hard hand palmed her nether lips.
    She didn’t know where it came from, but he sheathed himself with a condom and replaced his hand with his cock. She had never noticed him unbuttoning his trousers. He rubbed his cock on her thigh then let it rest against to entrance to her pussy. She used her own hand to guide it inside her as she fell back onto the desk. His tongue explored her mouth as his cock explored her pussy. He circled it