WildOutlaws

by Destiny Blaine

“It’s taken care of.”

  “Not yet but it better be. I’ll be at the hotel. Thanks to this weather, I’ll probably stay in town for a while.”

  “Do you want me to tell Mary Margaret you’re here?”

  “You may have to do that in order to get her out of that damned window!”

  “Right,” Tuff said, trying to think of the best way to coax Mary Margaret away from the window. Like her father, he wanted the exhibitionism to stop.

  Mary Margaret had once told him her father was dead. Unless she believed his ghost still resided in Cripple Creek, there were slim chances she’d do anything to please a father she barely remembered, if she remembered him at all.

  * * * *

  “Oh fuck!” Mary Margaret screamed, her palms scouring the cold glass as Creed entered her from behind.

  Her breasts were mashed against the windowpanes and her nipples felt like icicles as she rubbed against the chilly surface. She wasn’t about to complain. She was afraid if she said a word, Creed would yank her away from there and make love to her on the bed.

  There she went again. Since when did she think of sex as anything more than a recreational activity for which she was paid?

  Exhibitionism had always been one of her favorite things. Having an audience made her as wet as foreplay. In fact, with a large crowd forming and watching, she couldn’t think of any better foreplay than the action in the streets below.

  She’d spotted David and Tuff there. They were enraged and their fury was obvious. David had sprinted across the road, as much as possible, given the snowdrifts. Tuff soon followed. She’d expected them to come busting through the door but they’d disappointed her there. Now, she was watching Jared and Buck.

  Now there were two horny men, another couple of studs, she couldn’t wait to ride.

  Creed bunched her hair at the nape of her neck. “Are you satisfied?”

  “No,” she admitted. “But I’m getting there.”

  “Good,” he whispered, nicking her lobe with sharp teeth. “I’m waiting on you.”

  She arched her back and threw her hips toward him. Rolling her body with his, they began a timed beat. The fucking became more intense as he entered her, pounded away, and retreated, drawing completely away.

  “Show off,” she rasped, looking down, watching as the tip of his cock pressed through her folds again.

  “You’re not the only one who gets to flaunt what you’ve got. The women want to see what I have, too.”

  When he pulled out again, she faced him, realizing she left him completely open for exposure when she changed positions. “What if I don’t want you to be seen by them?”

  He threw his head back and laughed. “It didn’t stop you.”

  “I didn’t think you’d care about that. Most men love fucking in front of others. They get off on it.”

  “Do they?” Creed asked. “What man made you think that, Mary Margaret?”

  “Well don’t you?”

  “No,” he replied. “Honestly? I just want to please you.”

  Mary Margaret couldn’t believe her ears. She took his hand and led him to the bed. “Then come over here and show me.”

  Creed lowered himself to the bed, lying next to her. With his palm behind his head, he stared down at her, dragging his finger up and down her stomach until she closed her eyes.

  “This is nice,” she admitted. “I’m almost happy.”

  “Almost?” he asked.

  “True happiness is a gift,” she told him. “And it’s out of my reach.”

  “Why? Because you don’t think you deserve such a present?”

  “No, Creed. I don’t. That’s one package a whore will never unwrap because of the sins preventing her from seeing the world beyond a bedroom door. I’m not entitled to peace of mind. I don’t deserve it.”

  “Don’t say that, Mary Margaret. If I can find peace? You can, too. We’ll find it together.”

  She touched his cheek. “I don’t deserve to be happy. I’ve caused too many people pain.”

  “I don’t know why you’d think such a thing. You’ve also brought a lot of people a great deal of pleasure.” Creed dragged his finger higher. Soon, he was traveling between her breasts, his fingers tracing the area around her nipple. “You will be happy, Mary Margaret. I’ll see to it myself.”

  “I don’t think I can be.”

  “Says you.” He pressed his lips to hers and after a lingering kiss, he said, “I aim to defy you. Go ahead and try to make a liar out of me.”

  “I might.”

  “I dare ya.”

  “You’re on.”

  He framed her face and looked deeply into her eyes. “Hide and watch. You will become the happiest woman alive.”

  Their eyes met and she felt a stabbing sensation in her heart. She wanted his words to turn into a promise, perhaps even into a commitment of some sort. Instead, Creed said, “At least for a little while.”

  And her heart shattered into a thousand pieces.

  Chapter Twelve

  They entered without knocking and much to David’s surprise, they found them cuddling on the bed rather than fucking against the window.

  “Look what we have here,” David grumbled. “The two of you look like lovebirds.”

  “Is that jealousy I hear?” Creed asked, tucking Mary Margaret in the bend of his arm.

  “You’re damn right it is,” Buck said, his gaze working over Mary Margaret’s nude form. “After a front row seat down there, I couldn’t wait to get up here and try the real thing.”

  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you were finally coming around.” Mary Margaret patted the empty space beside her. “There’s room.”

  “Evidently Creed needed a short break,” Jared remarked, standing behind Buck and David. “You missed a hell of a finale, David. I hate it for you, brother.”

  “I ain’t your brother,” David said. “Right now I’m not even sure if I’m your friend.”

  Mary Margaret crooked her finger back and forth, trying her best to entice Buck to move a little closer. If Buck knew what David knew, he wouldn’t stand there with his hands in his pockets. He’d move heaven and earth to claim that vacant spot.

  Buck kicked off his boots and sat next to Mary Margaret. She clasped his hand and drew his fingertips to her lips. “Now then, is this so bad?”

  David snarled. “He’s not as innocent as he acts.”

  She batted her eyelashes. “That makes two of us.”

  Tuff hurried inside and slammed the door, locking out the rest of her world. David, Buck, Creed, and Jared immediately reached for the gun. Creed’s was under the mattress and he nearly fell in the floor when he went for it.

  “Trouble?” David asked, still brewing.

  “Yes but not the kind we were expecting.”

  Jared narrowed his gaze. He studied Tuff with a hard glare. “Is it Strain’s boys?”

  “No. It’s the marshal.”

  Mary Margaret waved her hand. “Leave the marshal to me, fellows. He’s not a threat. In fact, when these snow storms roll in, he’s generally so tied up trying to help the miners and their families, we rarely see him around here.”

  “That’s probably not a good thing,” Creed said, getting cozy with Mary Margaret all over again.

  “Creed, if you don’t mind my saying so, I believe you have my spot.”

  Creed chuckled. “David, you missed your chance, boy.”

  The boy comment chapped his ass but he let it slide when Tuff said, “Did any of you hear me when I said there’s a bit of unexpected trouble?” A beat later, he added, “And I spelled it out for you, too.”

  Mary Margaret sighed. “I swear, you never listen either, do you Tuff? I told you the marshal won’t bring you any problems. I need to sit down with you and make a list. You guys need to practice listening.

  “If you’re serious about being the kind of man a woman would want to marry, you have to know what women need. Right up there at the top of the list is a
man who can hear what his woman has to say. Hone in on those listening skills. Brush up on those and you’ll be a gem for your woman right from the start.”

  “Thank you for the advice,” Tuff said politely.

  Or was he being sarcastic? Hell, David was so confused he had no idea.

  “Marshal Doyle is here,” Tuff clarified.

  “The name doesn’t ring a bell,” Mary Margaret said.

  He thinned his lips and studied Creed. “He saw an interesting show in the window and wants me to put a stop to his daughter’s exhibitionism.”

  Mary Margaret stared at Tuff in utter disbelief. “What do you mean Marshal Doyle wants you to put a stop to this? The man is obviously mistaken. My parents are dead. He has me mixed up with someone else.” She quickly turned to Creed. “I hope I haven’t caused you any unnecessary problems.”

  “No,” he replied firmly.

  David shook his head in warning. He wanted to protect her from what came next, from the devastating truth destined to rip her world apart. Tuff nodded slightly. He understood David’s concerns but he planned to tell her anyway.

  Doyle had likely left him without better options.

  “Unfortunately, Creed may have caused you some unnecessary issues, without realizing it.” Tuff took a deep breath and added quickly, fiercely, firmly enough so Mary Margaret would believe him, “Marshal Doyle is your father. He was the marshal here in Cripple Creek prior to your birth. Your mother had a secret affair with him when your father was in jail for a crime which he didn’t commit, a crime your real father, Marshal Doyle likely pinned on him just so he could spend time with your mother, though I don’t know that for a fact.”

  David grunted. “Let’s stick to the facts, Tuff. It will be less confusing in the end.”

  “David is right,” Jared said. “This mess is complicated enough already.”

  “Yes but we all know the marshal. He’s used to getting what he wants and taking what is his.”

  “I hope he doesn’t already think I belong to him,” Mary Margaret said. “I needed a father when I was fifteen. I’m not about to call someone daddy now, not after all these years. The only man who earned the title is in a little cemetery right outside of town. He’s buried next to my mother.”

  * * * *

  Mary Margaret snuggled closer against Creed. His body warmed her and his strength was what she needed.

  He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. For a moment in time, she could’ve easily buried her head in his chest and acted like the woman she wanted to be—vulnerable, sheltered, and completely surrounded by the men she cared about. And she’d rapidly accepted she certainly harbored feelings for the five men who’d stormed into her life.

  “Mary Margaret, the marshal would like to meet you. He spent years looking for you and now he wants to be a part of your life.”

  “He spent years, did he?” Mary Margaret pressed her lips together. “I’ve been right here all along except when I’ve traveled to Stockton…” She clasped her hand over her mouth and stared at the man who delivered the most damning and confusing news she’d ever heard in her life. “Stockton. Those men—that gang—they found out about me when I visited relatives in Stockton and now they want to kill me because of something the marshal did.”

  “Yes,” Tuff said.

  “And he hired you to watch over me?” She felt sick to her stomach as she studied the independent expressions on each of their faces. “You’ve been using me all along?”

  “No,” Creed said, trying to pull her closer.

  She slapped his hands away and tried to escape. Buck refused to move. Creed didn’t budge. She crawled to the end of the bed, totally aware of the fact her ass was right in their faces.

  Well good. That was the precise place she wanted all of them to plant their next round of kisses.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked Tuff.

  When he didn’t respond, she looked at David. “And you…we had some sort of connection right from the start and you were playing me all along?”

  Pain existed in his eyes. At least she assumed that’s what she saw. For all she knew, it was malice.

  “I never lied to you and I do care about you…”

  “Save it!” she screamed. This wasn’t the kind of thing she’d expected from them. They’d lied to her. They’d said they needed a teacher and for what? Some sort of charade!

  What a fool she’d been. Grown men didn’t pay a woman to teach them how to love. Oh no, grown men thought they knew everything!

  She buried her face in her palms. Damn it. She should’ve known there was something wrong from the very beginning. “I can’t believe I fell for all this.”

  “We needed to keep you safe,” Tuff explained.

  “You wanted a whore!” she screamed.

  “That’s not true,” Creed said, leaving the bed. He grabbed his breeches. Shaking the pants briskly, he stuffed one leg inside the loose-fitting material before shoving the other leg forward. Then he jumped once and yanked the seat of his pants over his hips. “You needed to think that, Mary Margaret. It was easier for you to believe we wanted to hire a whore. You didn’t want to accept what was right in front of you.”

  “And what was that, exactly?” she asked bitterly.

  Creed stalked her. “You’ve obviously mistaken me for one of the other four here. So listen up, sugar. You and I need to have a talk and it will be in your best interest if you hang on every word. If you don’t, you might need to hone in on your listening skills. I understand your emotional baggage prevents you from seeing what’s right in front of your face but if you don’t hear what I have to say, you’ll miss one hell of a confession, not to mention the opportunity of a lifetime.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Give her a minute to digest all this,” Jared whispered, holding Creed off for a minute or two longer. Buck was going to try but he knew he’d hit a dead end.

  Creed said, “I’m going downstairs for a drink. When I come back, I’d better have the floor.”

  “It’ll be all yours,” Jared promised.

  Creed slid a kiss onto Mary Margaret’s cheek and then disappeared. Buck was surprised she didn’t slug him.

  Good God, Creed was in worse shape than Tuff or David. Maybe Buck needed to stay away from her. The woman was dangerous to a man’s independence.

  He sat back and observed. Mary Margaret was liable to crack. He’d been afraid to get too close to her for this very reason and after her friend died, he saw where all of this was heading. Now, the marshal appeared. His timing couldn’t have been worse.

  Marshal Doyle was a worthless piece of scum. Buck hated working for him and he had warned the others from the beginning. This was bound to end badly.

  It was only a matter of time before the marshal showed his face. When a job was important to Doyle, he lurked in the shadows. He only hired them and men like them because he didn’t want to dirty his hands.

  “So where is he?” Mary Margaret asked, stepping behind the dressing screen.

  Damn. Buck would’ve preferred life ten-to-one if she’d just flaunted her assets as she told them all off. The natural sway of her breasts and hips as she paced the floor was enough to give a man all sorts of kind ideas. He was straight-up paying attention.

  He should’ve been shot for the things he was thinking right then, too. Mary Margaret deserved more than any of them had given her. She had every right to feel hurt and betrayed.

  “We tricked her,” he stated flatly, catching glares from around the room. “I don’t care if you agree with me or not. It’s the truth. We manipulated her. Sure, our feelings were changing even as the lie was set in motion but from her viewpoint, we took advantage of her and we deliberately led her to believe one thing when it was actually something else altogether.”

  “Thank you, Buck.” She reappeared wearing a pale pink robe. She quickly worked to secure the sash around the middle. Taking a seat at her dressing table, she grabbed a brush. Swatti
ng the bristles against her palm, she said, “So if you won’t tell me where he’s staying will you at least tell me why he’s here?”

  “He’s at the hotel,” Buck said.

  “Man you’re just earning brownie points all the way around tonight, aren’t you?” David asked.

  “She has a right to know,” Buck said, averting his gaze.

  “I don’t want to meet him if that’s what you’re afraid of.” A beat later, she asked, “When will he be leaving?”

  “Who would know?” David said, dragging his hand down the length of his face.

  “The sooner the better,” she remarked coolly. “And you can tell him I said that. I don’t care.”

  “I’m sure you don’t,” Tuff said. “But I need for you to understand something, Mary Margaret.”

  David shook his head in warning.

  “Stop doing that,” Mary Margaret said. “I’m thirty-five years old. Don’t you think I can handle a little honesty no matter how painful?”

  “Your father’s business dealings put you at risk. His enemies discovered he had a daughter and threatened to kill you. Jesse Strain’s gang is here because you’re the person of interest. They want you dead, Mary Margaret.”

  “Maybe they’ll get dear old dad instead.”

  “They want to hurt him. They aren’t interested in killing him,” David explained.

  “Then they must need him alive for some reason which means he’s a dirty marshal.”

  “She catches on quickly,” Jared said, refusing to add much more.

  “Well if they can’t kill him, maybe they’ll get tired of trying to kill me and go off and look for another illegitimate son or daughter. Guys like him typically have several. Once they start breeding different women it becomes an obsession.

  “They collect kids so when they’re old and decrepit they can make an appearance in their child’s life, apologize because they were never a hands-on parent and ask for forgiveness. The entire thing is a ploy, an act. They play on the belief that their adult child still wants a relationship with them. Well guess what? I don’t want one. I didn’t even know I had another father. Doyle doesn’t care about me. If he had, then he would’ve come forward when I was a little girl without a mother or father. He didn’t and that’s fine.”