Annabelle Weston Read online

  Carly’s anger built into a force she couldn’t control. She flung the bottle to the floor, where it shattered. She fisted her hands at her sides. “He? He? Who told you this?”

  “Why, the new sheriff.” Ester’s eyes widened. “He told me to get rid of what bottles was left. I done as he asked.”

  “You did what?”

  Ester’s lower lip trembled. “Did I do something wrong?”

  “No, Ester.” Carly realized her temper was scaring the poor girl. She couldn’t blame her. Damn the man! Just because he had a star on his chest didn’t mean he could tell her what to do. “Sheriff Poole had no right to tell you to empty my medicine bottles, he’d no right at all.”

  “I’m dreadful sorry.” Ester wrung the life out of her apron.

  Carly was ashamed she’d put the girl into such a state. She would reserve her anger for a man who’d better start minding his own business.

  “Don’t you fret. We’ll buy some more next time Dr. Baxter is in town.”

  Ester stopped her agitation but her expression was still bunched into a frown.

  “Let’s not talk about it anymore. Tighten up my corset. I’ve got work to do.” She had to take her mind off the elixir the only way she knew how—by working, and even that was going to be mighty hard.

  She sucked in her breath as Ester pulled on the laces. The corset lifted her breasts into two plump mounds that always brought a second look.

  When she finished, Carly couldn’t take a full breath. The red satin hugged her body with a man-enticing fit. The dip in the bodice was so low it was scandalous, reaching nearly to her navel, showing off the pretty lace of her black corset. A wide slit up the sides—which she’d designed and made herself—showed off her legs all the way to mid-thigh if she moved just the right way.

  “You go on about your chores. I’ll deal with the sheriff.”

  Ester scurried out of the room. Carly finished dressing. The nerve of Jed Poole, she thought as she rolled on a clean pair of stockings and secured them to the garters. He’d no right to interfere. Best she explained to him how she ran her business before he got too full of himself.

  She slipped her feet into a pair of red satin slippers and stood. She was ready for the rest of the evening, a working woman with customers waiting.

  An idea popped into her head. So clever it made her smile. She’d pay another call on the new sheriff—tell him how things worked around here. This dress would be her calling card. This time she’d make sure he wouldn’t be able to resist what she had to offer.

  * * * * *

  Jed tipped back his chair against the rough-sawn boards of the jailhouse, enjoying a smoke in the cool evening. His first day in town and he’d already been able to put five ne’er-do-wells behind bars. Called themselves part of Vernon Crosby’s outfit. Those boys had robbed the stage all right. Jed and Travis had caught them with the moneybox from the Wells Fargo Bank and dragged their sorry hides back to Tucson.

  No one could question he was good at his job. He’d had no reply from the marshal over in Tombstone. Either the man was busy or neglectful—Jed couldn’t rightly say. He had given give fair warning.

  Jed would’ve liked to spend the rest of the evening at the Lonesome in Carly’s company but it wasn’t in the cards. Not tonight. There was no way he could leave prisoners unattended.

  He’d not forgotten her soft warm body as he’d carried her upstairs. He’d thought her delicate and helpless. What a contrast to the woman with a glint in her eyes and the scorching touch of her slender fingers on his chest when she and the other saloon dollies had stopped by to welcome him.

  There was no two ways about it. She was pretty but there were two sides to her. He’d like to know her better.

  He was about to call it a night when he saw Carly bearing down on him, fire in her eyes. She didn’t wear a bonnet and an abundance of hair fell in waves on her shoulders, light and frisky and begging for a man’s touch. There was nothing proper or ladylike about her this time, her dress garish and revealing more than any man could ask for. She picked up her skirts as she came, giving him a glimpse of perfect legs and fancy garters.

  As Jed watched, she moistened her lips. His innards tightened and his cock swelled. She had a powerful way of igniting a fire and then stoking his need. She was downright irresistible and knew it.

  When she reached him, she was breathing hard. She planted her hands on her rounded hips and glared.

  He’d a powerful urge to take her in an embrace and disarm her with a kiss right here in front of the jailhouse. It would give the people of Tucson something to talk about for a very long time.

  “Who do you think you are, Jed Poole?”

  Jed straightened, his chair coming down hard. He was half afraid she’d whip out her little four-barrel derringer and shoot him. He flicked the last of his cheroot into the sand and stood. Something had put a burr under her collar and damn if he wasn’t about to get an earful.

  “Something I can do for you?” he asked. He touched two fingers to the brim of his hat.

  The light from the lantern inside the jailhouse shone in her eyes. He saw a gathering storm but also a flicker of pride. It was unexpected and something he would never discourage.

  “You’re an interfering son of a bitch, Jed Poole.”

  An old-timer and his wife passed by. The old coot tipped his hat but his wife kept facing straight ahead.

  “Perhaps you’d like to say what you’ve come to say inside?” Jed asked. He nodded at the door of the jailhouse. He didn’t give a damn who saw them together but he didn’t want Carly’s grievance getting around town. No doubt his prisoners would be asleep by now.

  She strutted through the open door. Jed pushed his hat back on his head and followed. As he closed the door, she rounded on him.

  “The Lonesome is all I have, the only thing that has truly belonged to me.” She spat her words. “I have five women and an elderly barkeep who depend on me. I sure as hell won’t let them down.”

  Jed took off his hat and tossed it on his desk. He wasn’t quite sure what had set her off but he didn’t let on that he was aggravated she meant to give him a dressing-down he didn’t deserve. In his experience, a woman under a full head of steam needed to say her piece without interruption.

  She huffed, her breasts rising and falling with each breath. He ached to stroke her milky mounds, heft their weight, taste their heat.

  “I intend to run my business without any interference. Of any kind.”

  He stood his ground, waiting for her to come to the point.

  “You had no cause to tell Ester to keep my medicine from me.”

  “That’s not medicine,” he said.

  She raised a fist and glared. Thankfully, she lowered her hand and looked away.

  She seemed to have finished, run out of spite or just plain exhausted, he didn’t rightly know. Whatever the case may be, he couldn’t resist her. His mind went blank. All he could focus on were her heaving breasts, the lacy black corset, the scarlet plumpness of her lips and the promises she’d given him earlier in the day.

  He took a step forward, closing the space between them. Heat simmered from her body, fanning out over his flesh. No use fighting the attraction. She entranced him. When she turned back to him, her eyes blazed, lips were pursed, her fiery temper at the boiling point. He lifted her chin and their mouths were inches apart.

  She moved out of his reach, playing hard to get, he reckoned, but he snaked his hand around her tiny waist and hauled her up against him. Her breasts crushed to his chest. His hard, aching cock pressed to the hot inviting softness of her sex. He crushed her lips with his, swiping his tongue inside her mouth. She tasted of whiskey and sweet heaven. He groaned.

  And she kissed him back, her own tongue roving over his, licking at his lips. She gripped his shoulders, kneading his muscles as she turned her head to the side, letting him deepen the kiss. He slid his hand up the ribs of her corset and over her plump breasts, massaging the soft, w
arm flesh, running his thumb between the fabric of her corset and her taut nipple. She sucked in a breath and arched her back. He caressed her nipple again, pinched it.

  She kissed him again. Jed didn’t think he’d ever been kissed with such passion, such abandon, such wantonness. Carly didn’t hold anything back. Her desire for him showed plain as day. Her full lips were as sweet as he imagined. She opened her mouth to let him explore.

  When he finally pulled away, he was primed. She could take him back to the saloon all night if she wanted to—hell, for the rest of the week.

  She snarled. He was startled—her anger had spiked again and he stepped back, but not in time. She hauled off and slapped him hard, knocking his hat off.

  She sure packed a wallop. He rubbed his smarting cheek, confused.

  “Don’t you ever try that again, mister.”

  “I thought that’s what you wanted.”

  “Just because I’m a dolly doesn’t mean you can just kiss me whenever you want. You have to ask first.”

  He clenched his jaw. “Whoa. You were kissing me.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself, lawman.”

  Jed pushed his hand through his hair. “All I know is you came dressed up like you were open for business.”

  “I’m a working girl. This is how we dress at the Lonesome.”

  “Don’t get me wrong. What you’re wearing is just fine with me.”

  She gave her bodice a tug. “If you want my services, it’ll cost you a silver dollar.”

  “Seems to me you made an offer this very afternoon that required no payment.”

  She flushed three shades of red. “I’m taking back the offer.”

  She spun around and marched to the door.

  Jed exhaled. Probably wasn’t the best thing he could have said but she’d brought his blood to a boil.

  “Carly, come back.” He was big enough a man to apologize for having shot off his mouth at a woman who could be prickly.

  She was halfway out the door and kept going, and not inclined, he decided, toward forgiveness.

  The prisoners were standing, pressed against the iron rungs, gripping the bars, silly grins on their faces.

  “What are you looking at?” Jed picked up his hat and went back outside.

  Chapter Three

  Carly stomped back to the Lonesome, muttering to herself and not caring about the glares she was getting from those who got in her way. She seethed on the inside and made no attempt to hide it.

  How could he have kissed her like that? Damn him. She hadn’t expected to enjoy the kiss. Enjoyment had no place in her profession. So how in the hell could she have liked it so damn much?

  She’d gone down to his office to tell him what for, maybe have a little fun, which included her tongue down his throat and riding his cock at his command.

  She did not like what this man did to her. What he did to her mind—making it all mushy. Or what he did to her body—making her all hot and tingly. Her cunny was so wet, her desire for him wetted her thighs.

  Jed Poole made her feel things she didn’t want to explore. He made her forget her purpose was to sell her customers a good time. She shivered. Despite the cool night air, she was all hot and bothered. It was no good for her to be this way. And it was no good for business. Thank heaven she took back her invitation for him to spend time at the Lonesome. The last thing she needed was for him to come down to the saloon and make her forget what she was about. Before long, they’d be serving up their best whiskey for a song and a night of bed play for a kiss. Which would not be good for business at all.

  Despite all her anger, she still had to ask herself—what the hell was he doing to her? No other customer ever had her panting, sweating, ready to detonate with the flick of his tongue. No other customer had ever taken her there. Ever.

  His cock pressing hard against her, his hand on her breasts, his warm lips nibbling hers, his tongue thrusting into her mouth just like she wanted his cock to plunge into her cunny. She shivered again. And turned around.

  She would not go back to the Lonesome with so much turmoil creating havoc with her emotions. No, she would give the sheriff a good lesson in what saloon girls were about, and this time she would do it on her terms. He couldn’t have so much control over her. No man could.

  She held her head high as she marched back to the sheriff’s office. Jed had returned to his chair outside. She didn’t bother to say howdy. She marched to the jailhouse door, opened it, stepped inside and slammed it shut. Five men were in the cell, sitting on cots. They stood and grabbed the bars, making disgusting gestures with their tongues. She ignored them.

  Jed came inside and slammed the door. “Listen here, Carly. I don’t know what you’re after but…”

  “Sit down, Sheriff.”

  He scratched his stubble. She twisted his chair to face him. With a scowl, but eyes sparkling with interest, he sat.

  “You owe me, Sheriff.”

  “Do I?”`

  “You took liberties that come with a price.”

  “Did I? You seemed to enjoy that kiss just as much as I did.”

  He had her there. “Maybe I did.”

  “I thought you’d come by to make good on the invite you and the other ladies made this morning.”

  Again, he had a point. “I’m a businesswoman. You shouldn’t forget that. I do this for a living. This is how I make my money.”

  “I would never suggest the contrary.” He leaned back in his chair, placed his hands behind his head and thrust up suggestively. With a hefty amount of willpower, she glanced away.

  “Some women like what I can give them.” He’d lowered his voice, sending shivers over her skin. “I’ve never had to pay a woman for pleasure before.”

  She rolled her eyes. Figures… “You sure have a bloated sense of importance.”

  A slow, lazy grin spread across his lips, and a wicked glint shown in his gaze. “I bet those customers don’t make you come, Carly. I can make you come. Again and again.”

  She gulped. Again he was right. Damn the man! She wanted him, wanted him to make her come. As if begging her to accept his challenge, her pussy muscles clenched and a spark of delicious pleasure twanged through her pearl.

  Why were her cheeks flaming and why was she huffing and puffing—because of the way he was talking to her? That was her job. She was Carly—owner of the Lonesome. A dolly, a woman trained in the arts of pleasuring a man.

  She circled the desk. He unbuckled his gun belt and let it fall to the floor. He seemed to know what she was going to do, which worked against her. She was in charge of this seduction. She bent down, giving him a good view of her breasts, which she was pleased to see he hungrily followed. She pressed her palms to his thighs, and his warm muscles tensed beneath her fingertips. Her gaze met his and a bolt of lightning passed between them. As she moved, she kept her eyes on his, daring him to look away. She spread his thighs and stepped between them then lifted the right side of her skirt.

  She placed her knee on his thigh, letting the skirt fall open to reveal bare flesh and her lacy black garter. “This will cost you one silver dollar.”

  He swallowed. His lips thinned. She was gratified by the shallow, even breaths as his chest rose and fell. His gaze roved over her thighs, her breasts then locked on her eyes. He kept his hands behind his head, a slow grin spreading over his fine lips.

  “Whatever you want, Carly.” His voice was husky.

  She wanted him to be desperate.

  She stroked his muscled arms, from his elbows to his shoulders, back and forth, teasing him. He remained perfectly still but her pulse was racing. Why did touching him having such an effect on her? She had to concentrate on what she was doing. She had to pleasure him, satisfy his need. Most of all she had to think of him as a customer.

  With one knee on his thigh and her other leg between his, she undulated her body, rocking so her leg rubbed enticingly on his crotch, and with each sway, her gown opened at the slits to reveal the naked curls o
f her sex.

  The men in the cell whooped and hollered for a peek.

  “Maybe I’ll do you next,” she said with a wink in their direction.

  Jed grabbed her by the chin and turned her to him. “Forget about them. Prisoners don’t get no privileges.”

  That seemed to settle the men down. Carly would pretend they weren’t even there. She pulled off his grasp and rubbed over his chest. His muscles bunched beneath her touch. His lids drooped with heady need. The muscle in his jaw clenched and unclenched with each of her movements. She smiled wickedly, knowing she’d only just begun her dance.

  She lifted her skirts a little higher so they draped over his lap and gave her more room to maneuver. Placing both hands on his shoulders, she spread her legs so that her shins rested on his thighs. She heaved against him again, this time in such a way that her thighs spread wide. Her cunny, wet with desire, was exposed to Jed’s vision with each sway of her hips. The next move would be to press against his raging cock. And glory be, she did want his cock in her.

  She arched her back then pushed herself forward, her breasts in his face, rocking some more.

  His breath was ragged and she knew he was ready for her. She wasn’t done.

  With her breasts crushed to his chest she gyrating back and forth, and she pressed her lips to his neck, breathing hotly on his flesh. He groaned as she expected he would. She trailed her tongue up to his ear, nipping at the lobe.

  “You’re so…strong…” she murmured, stroking down his muscled belly. She cupped his cock. “So…hard.” She licked at his ear then nipped him again.

  Men were pushovers for this kind of palaver.

  She swung her legs around his waist to straddle him. She moaned into his ear when his hard cock—shame it was imprisoned in denim—pressed against her wet cunny.

  Jed’s breaths came fast and when her cunny moved against his cock, he panted. She took his hands from behind his head and pulled them to her ass, planting each of his palms on a naked cheek beneath her skirts. His fingers were warm, calloused. She moaned as he massaged her. Then she rolled against his cock, capturing the solid length of him between her thighs. Something flickered within her, startling her. She wanted him. She wanted to fuck him, sure, but she also wanted to come. Wouldn’t her finding release defeat her purpose? And yet she couldn’t deny she was being moved just as much as he was. He pumped upward, meeting the roll of her hips. He massaged her ass, and then somehow, his thumb brushed her cunny and she jumped.