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Harlot (Bartered Hearts 2)

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“I hope you’re not getting into trouble?”

His mother cleared her throat. “He’s been out visiting at the Smith ranch.”

“That right?” Theodore asked. “Are you looking to take up your old job there?”

Caleb met the man’s eyes. “Just catching up with old friends.”

“Some of those cowhands are pretty rowdy. See to it that you keep your visits respectable. Your associations have already embarrassed this family once.”

Caleb’s mother rose in a rustle of skirts. “Let’s j

ust leave that behind, Mr. Durst. I’d love a stroll, Caleb. It’ll be cool over by the stream.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, offering his arm and fighting the urge to growl at his stepfather. He turned his back on Theodore and walked his mother toward the creek.

He could play at polite patience. He could wait through this day. Tonight he’d see Jessica again, and his heart clenched at the thought.

She’d loved it last night. She’d loved him. Maybe she’d said she loved him as part of the paid service, but when she’d whispered that into the pillow, it had seemed pure and true as he’d done wicked, wonderful things to her body.

He’d thought this bargain would leave him with some satisfaction. Instead he wanted more. More of her in more ways. He’d spent the morning racking his brain, trying to remember every filthy thing he’d heard other men speak of. He barely had any experience of his own. He’d spent a few coins for a woman’s mouth here and there, but only once for a fuck, and he’d never done what he’d done with Jessica last night. Next he wanted her hand on his cock. And he wanted to watch her ride him. Then he wanted to kneel over her and—

Caleb rolled his shoulders back and made himself stop thinking. He was escorting his mother through her own party and even that couldn’t keep thoughts of Jessica at bay.

“Oh, Caleb, look!” his mother cooed, her arm tightening on his. “It’s that lovely Miss Annabelle. She was still a girl when you left, but look at her now. Ready to marry, I’d say.”

He glanced obediently at the sweet, curvy blonde and imagined courting her. The idea felt more profane than the things he’d done with Jessica.

His gaze slid past the girl to the group she picnicked with, then to the people beyond. The highest social class in this town. Folks who had time to picnic on a Tuesday. Had any of these men fucked Jess? Had any of them hurt her?

He hated all of them, regardless. He couldn’t stay here in this town. He couldn’t live here and wonder. But when this week was over, how was he ever going to leave?

Chapter 10


She’d felt strange all day. Dark. Skittish. As if she were anticipating something, but what?

Caleb would visit again tonight, and she felt nervous and excited about that, but the strange anticipation was something else. Something heavier.

The sin of it all, maybe. The knowledge that she was well and truly damned. But hadn’t she already known that? She’d stopped praying months ago.

After her father’s death, she’d been too caught up in grief to think logically. At first it had seemed simple. She’d reach out to Caleb. He’d come home and help. But he hadn’t responded and the news had gotten darker and darker. Her father’s debts were tremendous, the house belonged to the sanatorium, and even her own belongings were no longer hers. And Caleb…Caleb wasn’t coming home.

Theodore Durst had come personally to deliver that sad news. Caleb has found a new sweetheart. He’ll likely marry soon. Whatever future she’d imagined was gone.

Her heart beat harder as she tied her dressing gown and tugged the low tub toward the back door. What was it, this feeling? Guilt? Guilt over what she’d done and whom she’d hurt?

No, this cloud didn’t feel like guilt. It felt like anger, but surely she had nothing to be angry about tonight. She was being paid for her own pleasure. Twenty-five dollars and Caleb’s hands offering far more than the girlish shivers she’d once felt. How could she possibly be angry about that?

But it was anger. She could feel it now, as dark and liquid as the water that pooled in the dirt outside when she heaved the tub sideways. The anger slipped and slid inside her just like that, gathering in deep places, then stretching out to find new ones.

Why?

She forgot the question when Caleb appeared, stepping over the mud to take the tub from her. “Let me,” he said, lifting it easily to toss the last of the water toward the lilac bushes.

“Thank you.” Her face went warm with awareness of him. She had no room for anger now. She was too busy vibrating with nervousness. Those big hands holding the tub had gripped her just that way the night before, and she’d loved it, and now he would touch her again. A little bit of pleasure to go with all her pain and the loneliness to come.

He stored the tub in the kitchen corner where she pointed, then wiped his damp hands on the towel she offered. When the busy work was done, she realized how dim it had grown, how close he was, how naked her body beneath the flimsy green gown.



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