Page 5 of A Wanton Woman

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“It is… nice to meet you. Please, call me Celia.” Her voice was deep and sultry, a complete surprise and made my cock hard.

A shiver shook her small frame.

“Where is your coat?” I asked. Pushing the Bible into Walker’s chest, I stripped off mine and wrapped it about her shoulders.

Her tongue darted out to lick her bottom lip and I was transfixed. “I don’t have one. It is not this cold in Texas.”

Her voice had a slight accent to it, a slight twang that spoke of how far she’d traveled.

The cold air hit my torso and I could only imagine how chilled she’d been.

Smiling, she held the oversized garment together at the front. It was so large that it hung down to past her knees. It would keep her warm in the short term.

“Didn’t Mrs. Carstairs from the agency tell you your destination was Colorado?” The woman at the mail order bride service should have advised her of something as simple as winter wardrobe.

She lifted her shoulders and almost snuggled into the garment. “Yes, of course. But no shops in Tyler have coats like this. It is too warm year round for such items in Texas.” She glanced about and took in the snow that had been shoveled into piles to clear the platform. “I have never even seen snow before.”

I looked at the old snow, crusty hard from the top being melted by the sun and then frozen at night, gray from the soot and ash from the trains. This patch was far from remarkable. When we were home, she would know snow. Perhaps even become quite sick of it before the season ended.

“Come, let’s get out of the cold then,” Walker said.

Realizing I had yet to introduce her to her other husband, I felt even more of a bumbling fool. “May I present my brother, Walker?”

She didn’t know he was also her husband and the train platform was not where I wanted to enlighten her. The last thing I wanted to do was scare her right back on the train. No fucking way. She was here, she was mine and I was not letting her go.

With his hands full, he did not remove his hat, only tipped it with his fingers as he held the Bible. “Ma’am.”

We turned toward the station, working our way down the long platform. At an icy spot, I took her elbow and guided her around. “Careful,” I warned.

If she had never seen snow, I had to doubt she’d encountered ice before. I did not need my bride breaking something within five minutes of her arrival. I could barely feel her through the thickness of my coat, but I had my hand on her and that was a start.

Once inside the warm station, I stopped. Walker stood to her side so that we blocked out the noise and crowds behind us. “Are you hungry?” I asked.

“Tired?” Walker added.

She laughed then, deep and throaty, as she looked between the two of us. “I am not used to such attentions. From one man, let alone two.”

She would get used to it soon enough, but not here. union       Station was not where I wanted to show her my attentions, or that she’d be getting them from Walker, too. When she learned she was married to both of us, I didn’t know how she would react, although I had to assume with great surprise. While being married to two men was legal in Slate Springs, it was not elsewhere. Especially in a large town like Denver.

Glancing between us, she replied, “I am both.”

Both? Oh yes, hungry and tired.

Nodding, I looked her over from her stylish hat to her spun gold hair, her lovely oval face, full lips, flushed cheeks. My coat hid her fashionable dress, but it had been crisp and fresh, even after her journey, her hair neat. She was concerned for her appearance, but did not seem vain. “We will return to the hotel then where you may rest and eat.”

“Your town is too far to travel to now?”

Walker looked up at the large clock on the wall above the ticket counter. Five-fifteen. “Slate Springs is in the mountains, over a day’s ride from here. The weather is good so the pass remains open, but we expect it to be snowed in before the new year. We do not need to push ourselves to return tonight, for while it is clear, it is very dark. As you said, you do not have the proper clothing. Tomorrow is soon enough.”

Yes, I wasn’t spending the first night with her—it couldn’t be called a wedding night as we were already proxy married—on the back of a horse. I wanted her on her back and me over her. “We have a room at a hotel down the street,” I added, shifting because I had to hide my hard cock.

“Pass?” she asked as she looked behind her one last time before we led her out of the station to the busy street. Horses and wagons filled the thoroughfare.

I tucked my hat back onto my head. While the air was frigid, it did nothing to cool my ardor. Nothing would, not until I was buried deep inside her and filling her with my seed. Even then, I’d want her again. I was absolutely sure of that.

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