Wanton in the Wild West Read online

  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 litt
le 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.

  The sensation led her to a forbidden corner of her mind.

  “Maisie?” She whispered softly into her friend’s ear.

  “What is it?” Maisie didn’t turn from her Bible, but Amber knew that she wasn’t really reading.

  “Do you remember the night of your birthday party?”

  Maisie kept her eyes fixed on the small book, but small pink circles appeared on her cheeks.

  “No.”

  Amber giggled. “Yes, you do.” Maisie really was taking this prim and proper attitude way too seriously. “We drank too much sherry then went out into the back yard and stripped off in the rain.”

  Maisie lowered the book to her lap then closed it.

  “Amber.” She turned to meet her eyes. “We agreed that we would never discuss that night … or any of the others again. It was just…” She shrugged. “Young women being wild and wanton. Gaining some insight into the workings of the body before lying with a man.”

  Amber smiled and reached out to gently stroke Maisie’s cheek. “Of course it was.” She smiled when Maisie’s eyes darkened at her caress. It clearly wasn’t an unpleasant memory for her friend.

  She took Maisie’s hand between hers on her lap and relaxed into the movement of the train. As she drifted into a doze, lulled by the motion of the train and the warmth of the late summer sun that penetrated the glass of the window, images of the fun and frolics in Chicago flickered through her mind like the sepia images captured by the new-fangled cameras.

  Tall, slim Maisie skipping around naked in the moonlight, her small pert breasts dripping with summer rain, which trickled down and caught in the dark blonde hair at the apex of her thighs. Maisie being led by a young woman—another guest of Miss Claudia’s—to a blanket laid out in the back yard where others waited. Amber herself, following her friend, then sinking to the floor where she writhed blissfully nude against the cold white skin of her companions.

  There she had learnt something of the pleasures of the flesh, those that the preachers always condemned as wicked and sinful. But how could something that felt so good, be wrong?

  The kissing and the touching and the pleasuring had been so intense, yet so innocent. It was there that she had been taught how to receive pleasure from another and how to return that pleasure. Just the thought of tickling between Maisie’s legs with her fingertips, whilst feeling someone else’s hand cupping her own sex made her squirm in her seat. It had all felt so delicious.

  The other young women staying at Miss Claudia’s had talked openly about men and laughed at the differences between a woman’s body and a man’s. They had pored over a book of sketches that one of them had sneaked from Miss Claudia’s library, and Amber had been fascinated by the images of men’s private parts. They looked so different, and it thrilled her.

  How she would like to know more about men … before committing to one for the rest of her life.

  If she could face such a commitment.

  Ever.

  ****

  Amber was suddenly jolted from her reverie by a screech of metal and the sensation of flying through the air.

  “Woah there, missy!” She looked up to find herself looking into Gideon’s handsome face. His fingertips dug into her upper arms, and she realized that she was between his legs. “Are you hurt?” He frowned with concern as he looked her over.

  Amber tried to right herself, but her feet slid from beneath her on the shiny wooden floor. Damn her fashionable new black boots with their spool heels. Each movement brought her face closer to Gideon’s bulging groin, and her heart thudded against her ribs as heat filled her whole body. But just before her cheek finally touched his crotch, he hoisted her upwards and perched her on his knee.

  “It’s okay, Miss Carpenter. Doesn’t look like anything’s broken.”

  She bridled as he perused her body, his gaze settling upon her breasts, which now bulged conspicuously beneath her jacket, pushed there by her corset, which had slid upwards when she fell. The intensity of his gaze and the crushing corset made her lightheaded. She was aware of every part of her body, and her skin was on fire. Beneath her bottom, his leg was hard and strong, and she wondered how it would look naked against her own shapely thigh.

  A tingling began between her legs.

  Amber’s breathing quickened, and with each breath, her bosoms rose higher, attracting the attention of both Gideon and Harry, the latter having been woken by the dramatic stopping of the train. Her nipples grazed the lace edging of her corset, her gauzy chemise offering little protection from the stiffened weave. But instead of being unpleasant, the sensation just aroused her further.

  She knew that she should rise and move away, return to her seat, but having their joint attention upon her was delicious, and it made her thirst for even more. What if all three of them were alone somewhere and…

  “Excuse me!” A gruff voice disturbed her thoughts, and she sprang to her feet. She began adjusting her skirts and neckline, trying to discreetly tug down her restricting corset. Black spots swam before her eyes, and just as she started to drift from consciousness, she felt Gideon’s big hands upon her waist, lowering her to his lap once more. She slumped against him gratefully, aware even in her semi-conscious state that he had rescued her again.

  When her vision cleared, she looked at the greying old porter who had addressed them. He was now standing in the middle of the carriage. Something was wrong.

  “Ladies and gentlemen!” The man cleared his throat. “I’m afraid we have a problem. There is damage to the train tracks, and until it is repaired we can’t proceed any further.”

  There was a collective sigh of outrage followed by individual grumblings.

  “Well, how long is it gonna take to fix?” A well-dressed lady farther along the cabin waved her hand about as she sought attention.

  The porter coughed into his hand, clearly delaying telling the truth. He rubbed a hand over the salt and pepper whiskers on his chin and shuffled his feet.

  “How long, man?” The porter glanced nervously at Harry. “We have two young ladies here that we’re escorting home, and they’re keen as mustard to see their families.”

  Gideon gently returned Amber to her seat at Maisie’s side, but Amber said nothing. She was still too churned up inside by what had just happened.

  “A few hours … at best.” The old man shrugged. “We’re really sorry. Might I suggest that you take this opportunity to stretch your legs and get some air?”

  A series of boos and hisses drifted across the carriage, and Amber felt a wave of pity for the porter. It wasn’t his fault that the tracks were damaged. More than likely they hadn’t been fixed right in the hurry to complete the railroad or even worse, perhaps the Indians or bandits had sa
botaged them, hoping to get a chance to rob and maybe even murder folks on a passing train. Her stomach churned at the thought, and she was grateful that Miss Claudia had agreed that they were to be escorted by Gideon and Harry, even more grateful that each man carried at least one gun upon his person.

  As the porter moved away and began delivering the bad news to the folks in the adjacent carriage, Maisie squeezed Amber’s arm. “What on earth was all that about?”

  “What?”

  “You know what!” she exclaimed. “You’ll destroy your reputation behaving like that in a public place, ya know!”

  “I fell asleep!” Amber was hurt that Maisie would think that she had faked her fall. “Then I felt faint. I didn’t do that deliberately!” Her throat tightened, and tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. Everything was so confusing and so contradictory in this life. People could be good and bad. It was okay to want some things but not others. Men were allowed to behave as they liked, but women were condemned for similar behavior. Was there ever a truly right way to think, feel, or act?

  The heat in the carriage was suddenly oppressive and unendurable.

  “I have to get out of here!” Amber rose and picked up her reticule and fan from the floor where she’d dropped them as she fell, then moved towards the aisle.

  “Where’d ya think you’re going, Miss Carpenter?”

  “I need some air.” Amber lifted her chin and swallowed hard, cursing the emotion that threatened to overwhelm her. She tugged at her jacket irritably.

  “I could take some air.” Harry nodded. “What about you, Miss Bennett?” He reached out a hand to Maisie.

  “No, thank you.” Maisie shook her head. “I’m fine right here.”

  “But shouldn’t you come along with Miss Carpenter?” Harry paused. “For propriety’s sake?”