Sweet Laurel

by Millie Criswell

  Rooster knew that Chance’s temper could be a formidable thing when he was pushed. The gambler didn’t lose it often, but when he did it wasn’t wise to be in close proximity. Rooster took a sidestep. “You’d best get on in there, Chance. Laurel only had a couple glasses of champagne, but she’s acting like a wild woman, threatening to climb out the window and dance naked on the roof like somebody named Mazeppa or something.

  “I checked on her a time or two, to make sure she was still in there, but she threw the vase at the door when I opened it and then started laughing hysterically.”

  “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! Why the hell did you ask her out in the first place? If you hadn’t, none of this would have happened.”

  “You can’t blame Rooster, Chance. He and Laurel are good friends. What’s wrong with him taking her out for a nice meal?” Flora patted the stage manager’s cheek. “I know I’d be pleased go out with him if he asked me.”

  Rooster’s Adam’s apple bobbed excitedly, doing a fair imitation of a cork on water, and his eyes rounded to the size of silver dollars. “You would, Flora Sue?” He’d had a crush on the pretty dance-hall girl for months but had been too timid to ask her out. Though he knew he could have bedded Flora if he had the right amount of cash, Rooster thought too highly of her to have suggested that.

  Watching the two of them fawn all over each other like lovebirds made Chance sick to his stomach. He escaped into Laurel’s room, stopping dead in his tracks.

  Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of Laurel in a black satin corset, garters holding up a pair of black silk stockings on those incredibly long legs he’d been dreaming about of late. She was leaning back against the window sill, eyes closed, her hair fanning out in the breeze behind her. It was an awesome sight to behold and he sucked in his breath.

  “Laurel.”

  Her eyes came open at once and she flashed him a brilliant smile, tilting her head coquettishly. “Well, hello, sugar,” she said, doing a very credible impersonation of Pearl’s syrupy drawl. “How nish of you to come by and see me.” She batted her lashes, and Chance couldn’t help but smile.

  “Flora said you wouldn’t be able to go on stage tonight.”

  She stood on coltish legs, wobbling as she made her way toward him. “Thash silly, sugar. I’m perfectly fine, as you can see.” Draping her arms about his neck, she asked in a seductive voice, “Don’t you think I’m fine, sugar?”

  “I think you’re drunk, that’s what I think.”

  “Pooh. I am not. I only had two glasses of bubbly.” She held up three fingers. “You can ask Rooshter if you don’t believe me, but I hardly ever lie.”

  “I think it’s time for you to go to bed, angel. You’re going to feel like hell in the morning.”

  Her hands went to his chest, where she toyed with the buttons on his shirt. “I bet you can make me feel better, Chance. I like it when you kiss me . . . and do all those other things.” She rubbed against him suggestively, and Chance stiffened like a tree limb.

  “You’re playing with fire, little one, and you’re going to get burned. Now let me help you get out of that corset.”

  “I can do it,” she said when his hands moved to the fastenings of her corset. But she was too intoxicated to work the hooks and eyes, and after a few agonizing moments of watching her fumble with her breasts, Chance slapped at her hands.

  “Allow me. I’m pretty proficient at undressing a woman.”

  She cocked her head to one side and smiled. “You’re a stallion, that’s what all the women around here shay, Chance sugar.”

  “Do they now?” He laughed, continuing to unfasten her corset. When he had it completely undone, he peeled it away and feasted his eyes on her nakedness, and a lump formed in his throat. For a stallion, he felt damned awkward at the moment.

  “You’re beautiful,” he whispered.

  “I feel wonderful. So free and uninhibited. I’ve never drank champagne before.” She ran to the window and stuck the upper half of her body out. “Hello, Denver!” she yelled, waving her arms wildly.

  “Jesus!” Hoping no one had seen her, Chance rushed forward, grabbing Laurel about her waist and hauling her back inside. He shut the window with a bang. “In case you’ve forgotten, angel, you’re as naked as the day you were born. I suggest you crawl into bed now and get some sleep.”

  She wrapped her arms about his waist, snuggling her face against his chest, listening to the rapid beating of his heart. “Your heart’s thumping hard, Chance. Much faster than mine. See?” She placed his hand over her breast, and it was just too much temptation for one man to resist.

  His heart wasn’t the only thing thumping hard . . .

  Laurel was tempting fully dressed in her Sunday church clothes. Naked, she was the personification of Eve in the Garden of Eden, and Chance knew without a doubt that poor old Adam hadn’t stood a chance.

  Massaging the plump little globes, he marveled at how satiny soft they felt, at how they filled his palms so well. Her nipples were pink, pert, and pebbled instantly when he flicked his fingers over them.

  “Mmmm,” she moaned. “I like it when you do that. Flora Sue said that small-breasted women have more sensitive breasts.”

  “I think Flora Sue might be right, angel.” Pressing his lips to her mouth, he drank of her sweetness, trailing his hands down her back, her buttocks, and finally to the soft nest of curls between her legs. She was wet and ready.

  “God, Laurel, you’re killing me.” He felt as if he might disgrace himself at any moment, he was so excited. He’d been with hundreds of women before, but none had affected him like this impossible, innocent virgin.

  “Touch me some more,” Laurel urged. “It feels good when you touch me like that. No one’s ever done it before.”

  Chance moaned, drawing her to the bed to lay her down on her back. His mouth recaptured her lips, even as his fingers spread the damp golden curls to capture the tiny bud of her femininity.

  Chance’s hand on her most private of places set Laurel’s blood rushing through her veins like warm honey, heating her to a fevered pitch. Her breathing grew shallow, and she moved against him, urging him to continue the delicious torment. “Oh, God, please don’t stop. That feels sooo good.”

  Her innocence touched him as nothing else could have, and he kissed her long and hard, knowing that she would hate herself and him in the morning if he proceeded any further. But when he tried to draw away, she pulled his head back down. “Don’t go. Don’t stop touching me.”

  “You’re drunk, angel. I don’t take advantage of drunk women.”

  Her legs gaped wider, showing him more eloquently than words could express how much she wanted him, needed him to love her. “Just touch me a little more. Please, Chance. I need . . . I need . . .”

  The invitation was blatant and impossible to resist. Rolling on top of her, he covered her mouth once again, driving in his tongue while at the same time inserting his finger inside her and replicating the thrusting motion.

  Trailing kisses down her neck, her breasts, he laved and nibbled at her swollen nipples, then sucked hard, while plying her engorged bud with his hand. When she began to buck wildly beneath him, he knew she was nearing her moment of completion, and he nestled his head between her thighs to taste her sweetness.

  “Oh, oh . . .” Laurel cried out, clutching the quilt between her hands, as if it could keep her grounded to the earth.

  She was flying, flying. . . . The incredible things Chance was doing with his mouth and tongue had ascended her to the heavens. Soaring, soaring . . .

  Her climax came quickly and she cried out in joy, tears misting her eyes at the sheer beauty and wonder of it. Slowly she drifted back down to earth, the effort to open her eyes too great a task to undertake at the moment.

  Cuddling Laurel to his chest, Chance was awed by her newly found sensuality, and his ability to arouse and satisfy it. He’d never made love to a virgin before. Never understood why men put such a store by a woman’s
innocence.

  But now he knew.

  He’d been the first man ever to touch Laurel in an intimate way. To taste the sweetness of her purity, and hear her satisfied mews of pleasure.

  It humbled him.

  It pleased him.

  It made him think.

  Laurel sighed with pure contentment. “That was wonderful.”

  “I hope you’re not going to hate me in the morning, angel.” He brushed damp strands of hair away from her face.

  She could smell her musky scent on him; it was a strange scent, an evocative scent, and it made her feel womanly. “Why would I hate you? You’ve made me feel like an honest-to-goodness woman for the first time in my life. Thank you.”

  He kissed the tip of her nose, then helped her beneath the covers. “You’re going to feel different in the morning, angel, but I’m not sorry for what happened. I only wish . . .”

  “What?”

  “Never mind. There’s plenty of time for the other.”

  “Oh, you mean, like what Flora Sue and her miner friend did the other night?” She giggled at the memory, feeling warm and tingly inside.

  “I guess you’re getting quite an education listening to the goings-on around here.”

  She smiled seductively, caressing his cheek. “Mama always said that experience was the best teacher. I’m inclined to think she was right.”

  CHAPTER 10

  “Hello, sugar.” Pearl draped herself around Chance’s neck, nuzzling his cheek as she eyed the cards spread out on the table before him. “Solitaire’s such a lonely game. Are you feeling lonely this afternoon, sugar?”

  Chance had been hoping to avoid another encounter with the determined bar girl. “Have a seat, Pearl, if you’re bored. I’m just wastin’ a little time until . . .” Until Laurel returns from lunch. “Until Whitey gets done stacking firewood for Bertha.”

  She accepted the invitation, pouring herself a drink from the half-empty whiskey bottle on the table. “I bet you’re real pleased about Whitey’s progress.”

  “I was never that crazy about him learning his letters in the first place.”

  Pearl did her best not to show how put out she felt by Chance’s attitude. “That’s not very gracious of you,” she said. “I’ve been spending a lot of time teaching your cousin how to make his letters.”

  Chance looked up from the cards, searching her face. “Why’d you volunteer to teach Whitey, Pearl? I didn’t think you were particularly fond of him. And it seems out of character for you.”

  “That’s an awful thing to say, sugar.” She dabbed at imaginary tears with her fingertips. “I’ll have you know I’m quite fond of the boy. I had a brother once, you know,” she lied. “He was killed in the war.” She sniffed a few times, adding, “Just because I’m a whore, Chance, don’t mean I don’t have feelings.” She clasped his hand. “You know how much I care for you and Whitey. You’re like family.”

  Not entirely convinced, but unwilling to hurt Pearl’s feelings more than he already had, he squeezed her hand. “Thanks for helping my cousin. I appreciate it, and I know Whitey does too. He talks about you all the time.”

  Pearl felt elated at the admission. “You’re welcome, sugar. Why, you know I’d do just about anything for you.” Her hand went to his cheek. “Just name it.”

  Not about to be led down a road he had no intention of traveling, Chance winked at the whore, then pushed the deck of cards toward her. “Then how about playing a game of poker with me, Pearl? If there’s one thing I can never get my fill of it’s poker.”

  Pearl forced a smile as she reached for the deck.

  * * *

  “Miss Martin, I’d like to talk to you if you have a minute.”

  Laurel paused in her conversation with Crystal and looked up to see Albert Hazen standing in front of the café. There was a thin smile beneath his mustached lip, and he looked as if he’d been waiting impatiently for her and Crystal to finish their lunch.

  The glorious, sunny autumn day turned suddenly dark and gloomy, but it didn’t have a thing to do with the weather.

  “Al, is everything okay?” Crystal asked worriedly before Laurel could respond to the request. “I was planning to be back as soon as Laurel and I finished our lunch.”

  Whatever was left of Hazen’s smile disappeared, and his eyes narrowed. “I’m not here for you, Crystal. I’ve come to discuss business with Miss Martin, so why don’t you hightail it back to the Silver Slipper and wait for me.”

  Crystal didn’t miss the warning look Al flashed her, but concern for her friend made her say, “Laurel needs to get back to the Aurora, Al. She doesn’t have time to talk to you right now. Do you, Laurel?” There was a great deal of entreaty in her voice.

  Laurel’s gaze moved between Al Hazen’s angry expression and Crystal’s pleading look. She sighed inwardly. If she refused to speak with Al, it would bode ill for Crystal. He was sure to take out his frustration on her, and Laurel couldn’t allow that to happen. Crystal was her best friend, and she had to protect her at all costs.

  Clasping Crystal’s arm, she said, “I’ll be fine. Why don’t you go on back to the saloon? I’m sure Mr. Hazen will only detain me a minute.”

  Crystal bit her lower lip, a pensive shimmer in the depths of her eyes. “Are you sure? Because I’ll stay if you want me to.”

  “That’s not necessary,” Laurel reassured her, relieved a moment later when Crystal nodded and began to walk away.

  Hazen guided Laurel to a wooden bench near the street corner. The feel of his cold, reptilian hands on her person made Laurel want to shrink back in disgust. But she didn’t. She wouldn’t give Hazen the satisfaction of knowing how frightened she was of him.

  “What is it you want to speak to me about, Mr. Hazen? Crystal was correct when she said I needed to get back to the Aurora.” Bertha was expecting her to help with dinner.

  Toying with the ends of his mustache, looking every bit as sinister as she now knew him to be, Hazen glanced over her in quick assessment. “I understand you’re working for Rafferty now, Miss Martin. I’ve come to make you a better offer.”

  Rafferty’s business had more than doubled since the blonde had gone to work there. Now he’d heard that Rafferty was offering a free lunch with the purchase of two nickel beers. The bastard was doing everything possible to put him out of business, and Al had no intention of sitting back and allowing that to happen.

  Now that the mayor had refused his bid for another bordello, Al was going to have to make the one he had much more profitable. Hiring Laurel Martin was just the first step.

  Laurel was shocked by the man’s audacity. To think that he actually thought she would entertain the notion of working for him. It was insulting! The man made his living off innocent women’s suffering. Not to mention the fact that he was a vicious animal. “I’m not at all interested in working for you, Mr. Hazen. I’m not a prostitute, but even if I were, you wouldn’t be the kind of man I’d consider selling myself for.”

  “You haven’t heard my offer yet, Miss Martin. I’m willing to double whatever Rafferty’s paying you. I’ll give you better accommodations. And you can keep whatever tips you make. Just to show you my heart’s in the right place, we can split your services seventy-five–twenty-five, instead of the usual fifty–fifty. I’m not a greedy man, Miss Martin.”

  Bile rose thickly in her throat, and Laurel shot to her feet. Her anger was so palpable that it seemed as if the air around her were charged with electric current. “You’re disgusting, Mr. Hazen. I have no interest at all in prostituting myself, for you or anyone else.”

  He stood, grasping her arm. “That’s not what I hear. I hear you don’t mind giving it to Rafferty whenever he’s in the mood.”

  Guilt over what had happened the previous night made Laurel’s cheeks flame in embarrassment. Surely no one could have known of her disreputable behavior with Chance. Unless, of course, he’d been indiscreet enough to tell someone.

  “You’re mistaken, and I wo
n’t stand here another minute and allow you to insult me.” She yanked her arm free from his hold. “Perhaps you’re used to mistreating the women who work for you, but I’ll not allow you to victimize me.”

  His face was taut with anger. “You think you’re so goddamn high and mighty, but you’re gonna find out different. I don’t like losing to Rafferty. And I don’t take no for an answer, especially from a woman.” The way he spat woman made it abundantly clear that he held the entire female gender in contempt.

  “One way or another, you’ll come to me, and when you do, I’m going to make you sorry you ever went to work for Rafferty.” The unnatural light in Hazen’s eyes bespoke madness.

  Laurel decided that she wouldn’t allow him to intimidate her one more minute. “You’re a despicable human being, Mr. Hazen. My mama always said a stench followed a skunk no matter where he roamed. You, Mr. Hazen, stink to high heaven.”

  Not giving him a chance to respond, Laurel turned and hurried down the street, ignoring the vile names Hazen called after her.

  By the time she reached the Aurora, she was white faced and breathing hard, but she didn’t stop to answer Jup or Bull’s questions concerning her demeanor. Instead, she marched straight into Chance’s office.

  He looked up when she entered, a delighted smile crossing his face. It made her wish she weren’t so furious with him.

  “I need to talk to you, Chance.”

  His smile faded and he rubbed the back of his neck. “I knew you’d be upset about last night. Why is it women always—”

  “It isn’t about what happened last night.” She turned various shades of crimson as she unbuttoned her coat. “Though I guess we need to talk about that, too.”

  He looked closely at her, noting the fear still lingering in her eyes, and rose to his feet. “What’s wrong? You look scared to death. Has Shooter been bothering you again?” His hands fisted at his sides. I’ll kill the bastard this time.

  Laurel wanted to run to him, to throw herself into Chance’s arms and beg him to hold her, to chase away the evil aura that Hazen’s words had created. But she couldn’t. Not after what had happened between them last night. That would only complicate things. And things were complicated enough already.