A Madam into a Mistress (2 page)

She writhed beneath him, panting with need. In the deep recesses of her mind, she wondered how this had happened. She was supposed to be seducing him, not the other way around. She figured she would entice him between her thighs, ride him to oblivion then slip out while he slept peacefully—since every man always fell sound asleep after a good fuck.

But now that she had him right where she wanted, all she could think about was that she wanted him to stay there. As if echoing her thoughts, her thighs wrapped around his hips, and seemingly of their own volition, her hips rocked off the bed, her sex thrusting against the hard bulge inside his jeans.

“Oh, shit,” he groaned.

Oh shit was right. He was so hard against her; her only thoughts were of getting him inside her.

“Fuck, me,” she moaned. “Fuck me, Shane.”

He lifted his head, his eyes meeting hers for a brief second. What she saw in them made her heart stutter. Oh God. If she didn’t need to escape so badly, she would have stopped. The tender look in his eyes was so honest, so trusting. Oh hell, the boy looked as if he’d practically gone and fallen in love with her.

“Shane.” She couldn’t go through with this. She didn’t know how she would escape now, but she knew she had to stop.

He kissed her again, halting any further protest, and whatever noble intentions she’d had, they instantly flew out of her head. She was on fire for him. She didn’t know how she thought she could have possibly stopped. Her body wanted him with a fierceness she’d never experienced before.

She heard the rustling of a zipper then felt the blast of cool air against her naked cunt as he parted the tiny opening in her undergarments. Before she could take her next breath, he was there, the fat, purple tip of his cock pressing against her opening. Good Lord, he was big. Bigger than any man she’d ever had, and as he pushed inside her, she fought to accommodate him.

She flexed around him, dragging a lewd curse from his lips, and that subtle movement was his undoing. He buried his hard shaft inside her on one violent thrust.

He screamed her name, his fingers digging into her bare thighs while she cried out, her body struggling to adjust to the thick length of him.

He began to stroke in and out of her then, and that’s when she realised he didn’t know she wasn’t quite wet enough, wasn’t quite ready. Her heart clenched when she saw his face. His eyes were shut, his features twisted in pleasurable agony, and his lips were parted as he let out a series of harsh pants. She knew she would be sore tomorrow. The discomfort from his rough lovemaking would make it a challenge to ride out of town, but she would deserve every measure of pain she felt. In the back of her mind, she’d known he was a virgin, known he’d never lain with a woman.

Her belly knotted. Shane deserved a nice young woman, an innocent virgin, like himself. He should have been making love to her on their wedding night. His first time should not have been on the dingy bed of a dark, dank jail cell.

She would have pushed him away then, the guilt too much to bear, but he gripped her thighs tighter, his thrusts driving harder and deeper inside her. He let out a harsh bellow, the muscles in his neck straining as he threw his head back and shuddered violently. She felt the blast of his hot semen against the back of her womb, and she closed her eyes, stroking his back gently when he collapsed against her. His breathing was ragged, the only sound in the empty jail.

“I—I’m sorry,” he stuttered, breaking the silence. “It was my first—”

“Shh…” she whispered. “I know.”

A fist closed around her heart at the look in his eyes—full of love, tenderness. She closed her eyes, struggling to shut him out, although she knew that look would haunt her for many years. She reached up to cup his face and kissed him, softly, gently.

She owed it to him—that his memories of his first time wouldn’t be of just a rough, quick tumble on a dirty cot—so they made love again. The next time was slower, and by the fourth time, when he eased inside her, he knew just what to do to bring her body the sweetest, most earth shattering climax she’d ever experienced.

It was just before dawn when she slipped out of bed, out from the warmth of his arms. She closed the cell behind her, and locked it, pocketing the keys in her skirt. She gave him one last lingering look, knowing she’d never see him again. His handsome face was so peaceful, and she felt a wave of tenderness swamp her. She turned away from him before guilt made her do something stupid like walk back inside that cell and face the judge’s sentence.

She hoped he didn’t get into too much trouble. After all, everybody would know it wasn’t his fault. She was a thief and a whore. He hadn’t stood a chance against her wiles. At the least, he would be reprimanded; at the most, he would lose his job. She hoped it didn’t come to that. He was a good kid, a good deputy.

As she mounted a stolen horse and rode out of town, her last thoughts were of the young, Shane Duckett. She hadn’t prayed in years, but she did that day. She prayed that things would turn out all right for him then she left town for good and never once looked back.

Chapter Two

Redemption, Nevada, 1885

“I want to speak to Marshal Kincaid.”

Shane looked up from the paper on his desk, his blue eyes laced with contempt.

“How do you know Kincaid?”

“He’s a friend.”

His lips twisted. “Which means you’ve fucked him, too.”

Cherie glared at Shane through the metal bars of her jail cell. “For your information, he’s married to my best friend.”

That raised his eyebrows. “Montgomery?”

“I take it you’ve met her.” Cherie’s smile was wistful as she thought of her friend. She hadn’t seen her in a week. Montgomery’s duties as a mom to a set of precocious twin boys and the caretaker of an extensive cattle ranch kept her pretty busy these days.

“A couple of times. Quite a spitfire.”

Cherie’s smile grew wider at the look of trepidation on Shane’s face. A spitfire indeed. The look in his eyes told her he must have crossed words with Montgomery and ended up on the wrong side of that argument.

Montgomery was undoubtedly quite a handful. Before she’d met Wayne Kincaid, who had been the sheriff of Redemption at the time, she’d been the sole owner and madam of the town’s only brothel,
Every Desire
. She’d had to be tough as nails running a business like that. But marrying a good man softened even the toughest of girls.

A year ago, Montgomery had turned over
Every Desire
to Cherie—so it was hers now. But she was gonna have a helluva time running it behind jail bars.

“When’s Kincaid going to be here?”

He glanced at the well worn grandfather clock in the corner.

“Any minute now, but don’t count on him getting you out of here. As soon as the authorities back in San Antonio get my wire, they will be here to collect you.”

A few years ago, the thought of standing trial and going to prison would have left her frozen with fear, but not anymore. What was the point in running? The life she had now was no better than the life she would have in jail. After all, the one thing she wanted, the one thing she craved more than anything else in the world, had eluded her. There was nothing for her back in San Antonio, but there was certainly nothing left for her in Redemption. She would certainly miss Montgomery, her godsons and even Wayne, she thought begrudgingly. She hadn’t particularly cared for him at first. After all, he’d come and taken her best friend from her, but he was starting to grow on her.

She turned and took a seat on the bed in the cell and leaned her head back against the wall, her eyes shut.

“So what happened to you, Shane, after I left town? You marry a nice girl, have a couple of babies?” she asked, deciding to make small talk. He was a big time U.S. Marshal now—obviously life had been good to him.

He snorted. “I went to prison for two years for helping you escape.”

Her lids flew open, and she stared at him, the resentment in his eyes making her heart clench.

“And no, there were no nice girls for me.” He chuckled bitterly. “After you, I didn’t exactly believe in nice girls, and marrying any woman held little appeal. I definitely didn’t want to have children with one.” He furled his lips into a hard sneer, and it twisted his handsome features into such an ugly mask she almost didn’t recognise him.

“There was one thing that came out of that night that I thank you for though.”

She frowned. She didn’t think anything good had come out of that night. That wasn’t true. There was one thing, but she knew he wouldn’t think so.

“What’s that?”

“You taught me how to fuck. I certainly put what I learned from you to very good use.”

She scowled. “I’m sure you left a trail of broken hearts,” she said tightly.

 “Which is something you know all about, right, Cherie?”

She turned away because she couldn’t stand to look at him any longer, knowing the role she’d played in turning a kind, innocent boy, into the cruel, bitter man before her.

“Revenge—that’s what this is all about. You showing up here after all these years is all about revenge, isn’t it?”

“That’s the only thing this is about. I sat in prison waiting for this moment, dreaming of the day I would finally drag you back to prison and force you to serve out your sentence. That thought sustained me. Even after I was exonerated and set free, I still remained determined to find you—”

“To make me pay, to make me suffer.” She dipped her head to stare at her feet. “Trust me, Shane, I suffered,” she said softly.

“But not enough.”

Her head snapped up, and her gaze clashed with his. There was no sympathy there, not an ounce of compassion in his icy blue eyes. He had no idea how much she’d suffered, how much she’d lost. Deep down, she’d known this day would come. How could she not? She carried around his memory every day, even when she wished she could have forgotten.

“I’m sorry,” she said finally, quietly, knowing she owed him far more than a feeble apology.

“It’s too little, Cherie, and definitely too late.”

The door to the Marshal’s Office swung open, and to Cherie’s relief, it brought an end to the tense conversation that had opened up wounds she’d thought healed long ago.

Wayne “Ravenclaw” Kincaid barrelled inside, his burly, muscular frame blocking out the sun, his sheet of raven hair trailing after him. His Stetson was tipped low over his brows, shielding his eyes, but Shane knew the moment his gaze landed on Cherie.

“Cherie?” His attention snapped to Shane. “What’s she doing locked up?”

Shane liked Kincaid. As far as bosses went, Shane couldn’t have asked for a better one. The older Marshal was tough, but fair, his sense of justice, much like that of Shane’s. But he knew when it came to Cherie, Kincaid was partial. After all, she was his wife’s friend.

“She broke the law, so I put her in jail.”

Kincaid’s brows lifted. “Cherie?”

She shrugged. “I think you should let him tell you.”

Kincaid sighed. “Shane. Can I have a word with you outside?”

Shane followed him out back, closing the door to the federal jail behind them.

“You want to tell me what’s going on?” Kincaid asked as soon as Shane turned to face him.

He shrugged. “Not much to tell. Eight years ago, Cherie robbed a bank. She was supposed to stand trial, but she escaped before she could. I was on duty when she decided to take flight, so I was thrown into prison under suspicion for helping her—but then you know all about that part.”

“I didn’t know Cherie was the girl you went to prison for.” Kincaid’s eyes narrowed, his jade green gaze boring into Shane. “So you wanna tell me what this is really about?”

“I just told you—”

“You just told me the facts. Now, I want the truth.”

“The facts are the truth. I spent two years in prison because of her. I came here to drag her back to San Antonio where she will stand before a judge, be sentenced then go and serve her time as she shoulda done eight years ago.”

Kincaid studied him closely—too closely in Shane’s opinion. “Is that why you took this position? Because you heard she was out here?”

“Partly. I’d heard many times before that Cherie was somewhere, only to get there and find out she hadn’t been there in years. It was luck that this rumour happened to be true.”

“Luck. Hardly. You been chasing her for six years. Eventually, you had to find her.” Kincaid scowled then. “But you know I can’t let you send her back.”

Shane stilled. “What do you mean, you can’t let me send her back? We are U.S. Marshals. She broke the law. Our job is to arrest people who break the law. Cherie is no different just because she’s your friend—”

Kincaid’s face hardened. “That’s where you’re wrong. Cherie is different. She’s like a sister to Montgomery. Do you know how I would suffer if I let you turn Cherie over to federal custody?”

Shane could only imagine. Kincaid was a strong man, who probably could take whatever his wife dished out, but Montgomery was not to be messed with. And for just a moment, he swore Kincaid actually quivered in his boots.

“So what are you suggesting? That I just let her go?”

“It’s been eight years—”

“And I would have still tracked her down had it been fifty.”

Kincaid’s eyes glinted hard as stone, and Shane swore the man was probing deep into his soul with his sharp eyes.

“When I asked you to tell me the truth, that’s exactly what I wanted—”

“And I told you the truth,” Shane snapped.

“Hmph.” Kincaid dragged his hand down his face, and Shane watched and waited, growing uneasy as silence stretched between them. “You know before I came to Redemption there was a woman in my past too,” Kincaid said finally. “I almost met a hang man’s noose because of her. But you know what?”

Shane didn’t say a word, mostly because he was certain his boss wasn’t expecting an answer.

“As soon as I was exonerated and set free, I left town, happy to be alive. I didn’t look back; I didn’t seek that woman out. Naturally, I was upset with her, but I didn’t hold a grudge against her. I simply walked away. And I was able to do that because I didn’t harbour feelings for her. She didn’t hurt me at some deeper level where I couldn’t forgive.”