Western Widows

"How can I not be? I have your seed still deep within."

I growled at those words, my possessiveness coming to the fore.

"You're going to come. I know you will because you are so responsive, so incredibly aroused just by having your nipples played with," I told her with conviction. "Harder than you ever have before, then we're going to finish our lunch with Seth, somehow, then I'm going to take you back to bed. At my house. Our house, and I'm going to fill you up again."

I ran my hands up from her arms, over her shoulders, and then down the creamy expanse above her bodice. I took the end of each ribbon attached snugly to her nipples. "Ready?"

Her breasts rose and fell as she panted, her need obvious now. She hadn't been upset, she'd been aroused to the point of desperation and only I could help her. "Please," she begged.

Ever so gently, I pulled on the ribbon, feeling the ties loosen, then pull from her bodice to hang in my hands.

Her eyes slipped shut and her mouth opened as the blood rushed back to her sensitive tips. A shiver ran through her body and I knew she was about to come. I pulled her in to me and covered her mouth with mine to cover her cry of pleasure. I felt her skin turn hot, felt the tremor of pleasure. She softened like soft taffy candy in the sun in my hold. When I was sure she would remain quiet, I lifted my head, pulled her tightly into my embrace. I didn't want to let go, holding her as she recovered from her orgasm the most wonderful perk of being married.

"I feel your cock against my belly," she murmured into my chest.

"I know. I can't help it around you," I grumbled. "As I said, Seth is going to poke fun."

Charlotte pulled back enough to look up at me. "You said he's vowed to protect Rachel?"

"Yes," I confirmed.

"Then perhaps we need to see them wed as well."

I saw the gleam in her eye and knew she had a plan. I wanted to hear it, but first, I needed to get through lunch and then an afternoon of fucking. Then maybe my mind might be ready to play matchmaker. Maybe.

A WIDOW'S NEEDS

CHAPTER ONE

RACHEL

The man was insufferable! He hasn't stopped pestering me for months. Seth Barnes is a veritable nuisance. My only intention was to pretend to mourn in peace. There were no whispers about me as Aaron had made an honest woman of me, as the church ladies would say. I could only imagine several of those old biddies had trapped a man into marriage in their day. I wasn't the only woman to have done so. With a ring on my finger, the licentious kiss had been forgotten.

I hadn't. That kiss had ruined my life. I kicked a pebble in my path as I made my way to the mercantile. All of the blue thread for my new dress was gone. A simple spool of thread was all I needed, not a giant of a man shadowing my every step. He wasn't sly about it, how could he be? The man had to be well over a head taller than I, broader than a barn with hands the size of dinner plates and a face of a Greek god.

Regardless of the fact that he made me want to turn around and pull his head down and kiss him, he would drive me to drink before the end of the summer. He was everywhere. The mercantile. The telegraph office. The jail. The other side of the thoroughfare. Every time I looked up, he was there. Usually at a distance, but on occasion he would approach me. Then, I would have to look at his blue eyes, his strong jaw, straight nose and will myself not to grab hold of his unruly strands of blond hair and tug him down to taste him.

Those desires were nothing but trouble. Wanting to feel a man's hands on me, his mouth on places of my body that were completely carnal and impure were fantasies. Dreams I thought of alone in my bed late at night. I could touch myself, use my hands to seek pleasure from my own body. It caused no one harm and was a secret. There was no sign about my neck that read harlot. I dressed modestly, offered no hint of returning any man's attentions. I attended church regularly and participated in socially acceptable pastimes such as quilting and jelly making. There was no chance I would ruin another man's life by doing any of those mundane, dull and completely mindless activities. Pleasing myself alone in my bed would be the only way I'd succumb to my baser needs. Seth was safe from my wicked ways.

Except he kept putting himself in my path! I couldn't avoid him. He was everywhere. He was most ardent in his attentions, although never inappropriate, but I could see he was becoming more insistent, more driven. How could I protect myself from a behemoth of a man with all of his focus solely on me? I was so frustrated and focused on Seth's dogged presence that I did not see the man who'd come out of the saloon before I ran into him, his dirty, rank body a hard wall. I struck his side and stumbled backward. The tinny sounds of a piano drifted out to us on the boardwalk. I usually avoided this side of the street intentionally, but I'd been distracted.

"Aren't you a pretty lady?" he drawled, a strong whiskey scent emanating from him like heat from a stove.

I took a step back but the man's hand came out and gripped my arm with a speed that contradicted his inebriated state. "Unhand me," I said nervously, attempting to tug my arm free. It was to no avail.

"I think not. I've captured myself a prize and I'm going to keep it." He grinned, displaying crooked yellow teeth.

"No, you're not." The voice was deep, clear and cold as spring run off. Seth.

The drunkard's eyes widened as he looked over my shoulder. His hand dropped immediately and he took a step back. "I beg your pardon, miss."

He tipped his hand to an invisible hat and made a hasty retreat down the boardwalk.

I exhaled a pent up breath, relieved to be free of the vile man. But I would have to thank the man who had dogged my steps, filled my mind and distracted me in the first place.

I turned.

There, standing before me, towering over me so I had to tilt my head back to look him in his blue eyes, was Seth Barnes. The breath I gained escaped me again. He was angry. It radiated from every tense line of his body. "Did he hurt you?" he growled.