Wanton in the Wild West

Evernight
Publishing

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2013 Molly Ann
Wishlade

 
ISBN: 978-1-77130-652-2

Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

Editor:
Karyn
White

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or
distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.
 
No part of this book may be used or
reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the
case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names,
characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events,
locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

To my MCM.
For your help, support and friendship as I
began this journey.
Hugs!

WANTON
IN THE WILD WEST

Molly
Ann
Wishlade

Copyright © 2013

Chapter One

“Do you think that they both
have big cocks?” Amber whispered to the girl at her side,
then
snorted at her red face.
“Oh,
Maisie
Bennett!
You’re such a prude sometimes.”

Maisie scowled and lifted
her chin, casting a haughty glance around the luxury train carriage. “Amber,
it’s high time you remembered your manners! We’re returning to Deadwood to find
respectable husbands. That’s what the time spent with my aunt was all
about.
”

Amber arched a sleek black
eyebrow. “Yeah, I know. But don’t you wanna have one
last
chance at fun before you settle into married life?”

Maisie shook her head then
smoothed out her green velvet skirts, which fell to her politely crossed
ankles. “I’m done with
fun
. I have to
think of my reputation. And so should you.” With that, Maisie shrugged her dark
blonde hair over her shoulders, lifted her Bible and commenced reading.

Amber turned away and looked
instead at the burly cowboys sat opposite. They were both big and broad-shouldered
with long muscular legs and huge, rough hands. They wore dark suits—their
Sunday best, she guessed, as being cowboys she doubted that their usual attire
would be so smart. But that was where the similarities seemed to end.

Gideon Swain had dark brown
hair cropped close to his head. His eyes were a soft warm brown, and they
crinkled at the corners when he smiled. He looked as if he were in his late
twenties. His companion, Harry Delaney, was about twenty-three—the same age as she
was. He wore his thick sandy blond hair combed backwards with some kind of pine
and cinnamon scented pomade. Amber was fascinated by his hazel eyes, which
seemed to change hue through the day, as if following the sun or betraying the
slightest alteration in his mood.

The men exuded strength and
vitality. Amber could just imagine them astride their horses, galloping across
the Great Plains. Their physiques were those of working men who could tend the
land and their animals with expert care, yet take down a troublemaker in a
saloon with one punch. A woman would feel safe with a man like that around.

Perhaps.

She chewed her lip at her
own musings. But despite their solid exteriors, both men had an air of
melancholy that floated like a delicate fragrance about them. She couldn’t
quite pinpoint what it was, but it was there. It didn’t match up with their
masculine physical presence, and Amber found it intriguing. What could have
happened to them that gave them such an air of unease? She had spotted the
quickly hidden flicker of pain that sliced through their eyes like lightning
through the night sky. It reminded her of her own, and it drew her to them like
bees to a flower bed.

As she looked at them, her
stomach flipped. It was a strange sensation and one that she wasn’t familiar
with. She felt excited and nervous all at once, as if something was going to
happen, but she wasn’t quite sure what. Her reaction had been identical when
she’d first seen them in Chicago just over two weeks ago. They had arrived at
Miss Claudia’s large townhouse in order to consult with her about escorting
Amber and Maisie back to Deadwood. Having no
mature
female to accompany them had left Miss Claudia a little jittery, to say the
least, but Mr. Swain and Mr. Delaney had been most reassuring and persuasive.
And what choice had Miss Claudia had? Her boarding house was full to bursting,
and it was high time that Amber and Maisie returned home. So she’d entrusted
the young ladies into the care of the solemn young cowboys. Besides, they had
come highly recommended by others within Miss Claudia’s social circle, and such
recommendations were not to be sniffed at.

Just being near two such
strong and worldly seeming men with only Maisie as a companion, stirred
something naughty in Amber, and she had a feeling that her time in their
company could end up being an education in itself. She wriggled around in her
seat. Her purple satin travelling attire was very pretty and haute couture, but
that didn’t mean that it was comfortable. She had chosen it because Miss
Claudia admired how it lit up her blue eyes and created a perfect contrast to
her black tresses. Amber shook her head. She had succumbed to vanity in a
moment of weakness, and now she was paying for it. At least her travelling
companions provided a welcome distraction.

Right now, Gideon had a
small pair of round spectacles balanced on his aquiline nose, and he was making
notes with a pencil in a little black leather bound book. He frowned at
intervals, causing his Stetson to move forwards on his head. It made Amber
giggle. He looked so serious, as if he was plotting to run for president, and
she wondered what was going on in his mind. She was almost certain that his
thoughts weren’t travelling in the same direction as her own.

To his left, Harry had sunk
low in his seat, his own black hat pulled down over his eyes, his long legs
stretched out in front. Amber roamed his face, tracing the square line of his
jaw where a light dusting of golden stubble had begun to grow. She wondered how
it would feel to run her hand over his chin, to feel that rough hair against her
palm. She shivered and pressed her thighs tightly together. His chest rose and
fell rhythmically, and his strong hands lay clasped over his stomach. As she
looked lower, casting a cautious glance around to check that no one observed
her, she perused his groin. Maisie was a fool not to be interested in what lay
beneath Harry’s trousers. Amber could clearly make out a substantial bulge, and
she had to fight the urge to reach out and squeeze it.

She shook her head. She was
indeed a wanton woman. But she just wanted a little fun … a little experience
before she gave in to drudgery. What was wrong with that?

She toyed with her fan,
flicking it out then folding it back. The
movement made her
think
of an agitated cat’s tail. She’d had a ball in Chicago where she’d
stayed with Maisie and her loopy aunt Claudia, and she hadn’t wanted to leave.
When she’d left Deadwood just over a year ago, she hadn’t been convinced that
she’d have a good time at all. Granny Carpenter had talked her into it, telling
her that all young ladies should know how to conduct themselves properly and
that it would do her good to travel a little before settling down.

Especially
before settling down in Deadwood.

Granny had even suggested
that she might find herself a man in Chicago! A smile spread across her face,
and she quickly concealed it with her fan.

What would Granny have said
if she’d known what Amber had gotten up to?

“You all right there, Miss
Carpenter?” Gideon’s deep voice startled her, and her cheeks filled with heat.

“Yes!” She lifted her chin
and increased the speed of her fan. “Why? Shouldn’t I be?”

As he watched her with his
dark fathomless eyes, she felt like he could see right into her mind and read
her naughty thoughts.

Ridiculous.
Really.

But it was like he was
roaming around in her head, peering into all the darkest corners. A shiver ran
down her spine like a mischievous finger.

“Glad to hear it.” He doffed
his black hat then returned to his little black book, a smile playing on his
full lips. Amber stared at them for a moment over the top of her fan, musing
about how it would feel to kiss him. The thought sent a hot flush flooding
through her body. It tingled under her armpits and swirled in her stomach.

“What are you writing in
there?” Amber queried and leaned forwards a little as if to try to see his
scribblings.

“Oh
nothing of interest, Ma’am.
Just
working out some figures is all.” He winked then, and Amber stiffened in
surprise. The gesture, though unacceptably familiar, had made her heart leap.

She slumped against the
stuffed cushion on the wooden seat. It was designed to make it more comfortable
and to suggest that the giant black beast of a train with its red and gold
carriages offered the latest in comfort and style. She had been excited at the
prospect of travelling by steam train and had enjoyed the journey, especially
watching the countryside slide by as the train made its way along the
North-Western Railroad.
 
But she was
struggling to focus on the journey home because the close proximity of two such
attractive men was having a profound effect upon her. It didn’t help that the
gentle rocking of the carriage made her full breasts jiggle above her corset,
and she knew that beneath her purple travelling skirts and beneath her bloomers
she was hot and damp.