White Star nodded and continued dragging the dumbstruck Audrey toward a far corner of the stable. He sat on a hay bale and pulled her, kicking and protesting, over his lap. One of her skirts got pulled up, next the petticoats, and soon nothing but her quaint cotton pantalets was covering her behind. The pantalets were poor coverage as they were made of two long legs that fitted over her hips and tied at the waist with a ribbon. They were completely open instead of seamed over her private parts.
“Stop! I demand you stop!”
“You’re full of demands, ain’t you?” With that, his hand came crashing down on her upturned fanny and she squealed, as much with indignation as with any pain.
“Ouch! Who do you think you are? You can’t spank me!”
“Who I think I am is White Star Smith, and I am surely spanking you, yes, I am.” Again and again his hand came down. Audrey’s butt got warm and soon after it was positively hot.
“Stop! I’m sorry! I won’t do it again!”
“That’s for damn sure, you won’t.”
More spanks peppered her butt and Audrey started to cry. The pain was intense, all over her poor little cheeks and starting down her thighs. Oh, what had she gotten herself into? How could such an appealing man be so mean? Maybe it was his Indian heritage. Did they spank? “Please, please stop. I promise I’ll do better!”
He continued spanking until Audrey was sobbing and blubbering her apologies. Her nose was running, both sets of her cheeks were hot, her bonnet had been knocked off, and her hair was falling around her face like a light brown veil. She prayed that no one could hear her screams and come make an even bigger scene. At the same time, she hoped that someone would come and stop the awful spanking.
She was beginning to despair of it ever ending, when it did. Audrey was bawling her eyes out, but he pulled her skirts back down and turned her over in his lap.
“There, there,” he said, his gravelly voice soothing in her ear. “It’s over. You ain’t earned yourself more…yet.”
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I won’t go into the saloon again. I really won’t. Someone shrieked and I thought…I thought… Oh, never mind.”
“I got a feeling we ain’t done with this conversation.”
“You hurt me.”
“I didn’t do you no harm. You got a spanking, nothing worse.”
“I’ve never been spanked before. Why couldn’t we just have had a discussion instead?”
He chuckled. “We had ourselves a discussion, Ma’am. I can’t help it if it made you cry.”
“You could so help it. Let me up.”
“You can get up anytime.”
Desire to stay in his lap and feel his strong arms around her for a while longer warred with embarrassment and peevishness. Desire won for a few more minutes. Audrey rested her head on his shoulder. It had been years since she’d had a good cry like that. Although her fanny smarted, it had been cathartic. So many frustrations were lightened in those few short minutes. He smelled so good and his shirt was so soft under her cheek. A feeling of rightness soughed through her. She hadn’t felt this precious and cosseted since she had been a little girl in her father’s lap. Of course, he’d never spanked her beforehand; he mended skinned knees first.
“You about done watering my shirt?”
She nodded.
He helped her to her feet and stood. “You best mind your manners in the future. There’s more where that came from.”
“Yes, sir.”
He tilted her head up and looked into her eyes. She hadn’t even realized her gaze had been downcast. She really had been embarrassed. “You fix yourself back up, darling, and I’ll take you to Miss Patty’s like we set up.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You’re too thin by half. You need to eat.” He handed her the bonnet and a few hairpins that had fallen to the ground.
Audrey tried to pin up her long hair, but it wasn’t something she was familiar with and she fumbled with the pins until he took them from her. “I’ll do it, woman,” he said, sounding exasperated. “I grew up with sisters.” He knotted the long mass up and had it pinned in no time. Audrey patted her head. It wasn’t as intricate a knot as she’d had when she started the adventure, but it was tidy. “Thank you.”
He snorted. “Got all that purty hair and can’t even tie it up.”
Defensively, she said, “I can, too.”
“We’ll see.” But he didn’t move, nor take her arm to lead her out. He stood there, looking at her like he was memorizing her face. After a moment, he touched her cheek and slowly, terribly slowly, bent down to touch her lips with his.
At first, Audrey was shocked. He had just spanked her and now he wanted kisses?
But with his mouth firm against hers, his masculine scent tickling her nose, she was soon touching his chest and testing his dampened cotton shirt with her fingertips. White Star’s kisses became a little more insistent, and Audrey responded shyly. This was what she wanted, but she didn’t want to go too fast. She wanted to savor every sensation in discrete little capsules. So she kept her mouth closed until she felt his tongue teasing the seam of her lips. Slowly, she opened to him, allowing him to tease her teeth, then her tongue, with his. The kiss deepened, and White Star touched her shoulders, her neck, finally cupping her face, holding her steady for his kisses. It went on for an eternity of pleasure, but was over way too fast.
Audrey was breathing heavily when he drew back.
“Sweet as molasses,” he whispered.
She was lost in his dark eyes, too enraptured to speak.
“Best we get moving or I’m going to throw you down here in the hay.”
And this was a bad thing? “We could—”
“No, Ma’am,” he interrupted. “You’re a decent woman and I ain’t a brute.”
Resigned, Audrey put on her bonnet, muttering, “I’d like to be less decent, if you don’t mind.”
Apparently, he didn’t hear her because he simply took her hand and led her out of the barn.
Chapter 3
Later that night, long after the saloon fiasco, her spanking, and her dinner with White Star, Audrey couldn’t sleep. She had a feeling that it was part of the dream state. Of course, she might have expected that, if she had given it much thought. She lay awake in the boarding house for an hour or more, thinking about her day and especially about her meeting White Star. Those kisses had been the most romantic, sensual things she had ever experienced. His hands on her face had been gentle, but calloused. He must be a cowboy, she thought. He certainly had the build for hard work like that, and he had been wearing similar clothes to the other cowboys she had seen in the town.
But White Star was a cowboy who spanked. That was less than pleasant. Audrey had to admit that she might have deserved it, but it was a truly weird thing to find in her RAVE. Leave it to Romantek to exploit some little kinky particle in her psyche and make this game more challenging.
After daydreaming for a while, Audrey closed her eyes and tried to rest. When she opened them, the day was dawning outside. Had she slept after all? She wasn’t tired, though she hadn’t been tired at bedtime either. She didn’t feel groggy, or disoriented, as though she’d been sleeping. Well, whatever. There were chores to be gotten to. Mrs. Brown started early and Audrey knew she was expected to be in the kitchen to help at first light.
She quickly got out of the long, white nightdress with the ruffled yoke, and changed into a fresh calico dress. This one was off-white with green sprigs all over it. There were several in her simple armoire. Not enough to be extravagant, but enough to make her feel pretty, not having to wear the same thing every day. Washing clothes was going to be an interesting experience in the 1800s, she realized. It was best if she kept them clean as long as possible.
Once in the kitchen, Audrey greeted Mrs. Brown warmly, grabbed a cup of coffee and put on an apron to get to work. Much of the day was full of fun projects, like learning how to gather eggs, beat pancake batter, and pick flowers
for the table. Audrey couldn’t remember a time when she had seen or smelled anything other than hothouse flowers, so gathering them up from the plants around the house was a rare treat. She touched every petal and sniffed every bud.
But soon the day was drawing to a close. The sun was low on the horizon. Audrey estimated that she had another hour of sun left, but there was a lull in the chores, so she sat down at the whitewashed kitchen table and drank a glass of milk.
Fresh milk. From a cow. Amazing.
Mrs. Brown was fussing somewhere near the front of the house when there was a knock on the backdoor. Audrey considered calling for the landlady, but decided that it would be okay to answer the door herself. She wiped her hands on her apron and pulled the door open.
“White Star!”
He removed his hat and smiled. Those even, white teeth gleamed at her and Audrey was struck anew at how attractive he was. Today, his black hair was plaited neatly, and his shirt was clean and freshly pressed. He seemed bigger, framed in the door, his shoulders broader than she recalled from the day before. Remembering how that hard-muscled chest felt under her fingers made Audrey’s middle flip.
“Miss Audrey. I told you I would come calling.”
“Yes! But I thought you would be out of town today. Did I misunderstand what you said last night over dinner?”
“Well, I was supposed to head out toward the Bar R to see about a new horse, but I decided it could wait. I wanted to see you instead.”
That warmed her heart. He wanted to see her, even after she had been so tongue-tied at dinner the night previous. If she managed to say a whole sentence, it would have surprised her. She had been so embarrassed about that spanking, and so flustered by the kisses that followed, that she sort of stared at him while he made polite conversation. Or, at least, he tried to make conversation. She hadn’t helped. But here he was, “calling.”
“I’m very happy to see you,” she told him, trying not to gush. “Please come in.”
He peered into the kitchen, looking a little concerned, but wiped his boots on the outdoor rag rug and stepped into the room.
Audrey wasn’t sure what “calling” meant in the nineteenth century, but she did have good manners. “Would you like some coffee? I was having a glass of milk. It’s really delicious. I could get you some.”
“No thanks, Ma’am.”
She gestured at the table. “Please, sit down.”
White Star looked uncomfortable again, but sat anyway, putting his hat on a chair nearby. “How are you, Miss Audrey? None the worse for your spanking, I hope?”
A blush made her face hot. “No. None the worse.” And it was true. She had expected to be black and blue today but her bottom remained clear and pale when she twisted around to catch a glimpse of it that morning. She wished she’d had a mirror, but it appeared that wasn’t a usual feature in the servant’s room. In fact, it would have been very helpful to have one while she’d been trying to pin up her hair. It surely was a botched up mess, but no one commented on it, so she must not look like Medusa. “How are you?” she asked, trying to change the subject.
“My spanking hand is still attached, if that’s what you’re asking.”
He was teasing her and she knew it. “I’m happy that you didn’t have to amputate it after all that rough treatment.”
“Naw. Besides, I got two hands and they work equal well for that purpose.”
Audrey’s behind twitched and she squirmed in the chair. “Well…um…what do you do when you’re in town?”
“Besides raising a ruckus,” he asked, teasingly. “I do a little gambling and spend time in the saloon some.”
The saloon… where those women were plying their trade. A man as gorgeous as White Star must be mighty popular. And he was some sort of gambler. That wasn’t the best news, but it shouldn’t matter in the long run. This was only make-believe, after all.
“Audrey Beacon, what are you thinking!” Mrs. Brown bustled in, frowning darkly, her hands on her ample hips.
Both Audrey and White Star stood up quickly. “I’m chatting. My chores were done, Mrs. Brown. I was taking a little break, talking to White Star. Have you met?”
“I know all about this no-account criminal. I can’t believe you invited him into my house.” She gestured with her apron at the man, as though shooing a fly. “Out. You get out. This place is for God-fearing good folk, Mr. Smith. Not for the likes of you. Git!”
He picked up his hat and put it on his head. “Yes, Ma’am. I’m sorry to have upset you.” It was only three steps from the table to the door and White Star got there in two long strides. “I’ll see you in town sometime, Miss Audrey. I wish both you ladies a good evening.”
“Out!” Mrs. Brown reiterated.
White Star exited quickly.
* * *
Being kicked out of the boardinghouse was a pretty ignominious way to start what had begun as a good evening. Owen White, aka White Star Smith, had very much wanted to spend more time with Audrey, hopefully coax a little conversation out of her. Maybe they could have taken a walk in the moonlight. He itched to touch her again. Of course, things had to go slow, but not so slow that his dreamtime would be over before he pulled her close to kiss her all over.
Unfortunately, his in-game reputation had preceded him. Damn Romantek for picking up one of his crazier fantasies and making it come to life in his dream! At least they had complied with his wishes and left out the bigotry element of his heritage. It wasn’t strictly correct, but this was his dream and if he didn’t want to be called a “dirty Indian,” well, he paid for this and he was going to get what he wanted.
His RAVE went on, and he headed back into town and to the saloon where he had been spending much of his time. Two days down and all he had done was win a bunch of money and get flirted at by a bunch of floozies.
Well, and there had been meeting the fellows from the Bar R. There was a horse there he dearly wanted to see. From what he could gather, the stallion was more than a quarter horse, he was a champion.
Owen would love to have a horse like that to train. He longed to get back to those days when it was just him and a good horse working out their relationship and finding accommodation. In his real life, he used to have a way with horses, and that had held him in good stead. But winning some big races had changed everything, and now all of his life was about winning. Winning in business. Winning with sought-after women. Winning bets. He didn’t want to lose, of course, but he needed to get back to his roots and feel the challenges again. It was not something he could do in his real life. Too many people depended on him for their jobs and the future of their families. The economy was rough, and it would be wrong to let those people down.
He hadn’t realized he could dream up a girl like Audrey, and after only that one quick glance across a crowded ballroom. She obviously made quite an impression on him! And now he was challenged to come up with a way to win the girl.
It wasn’t such a bad dream after all.
The saloon was crowded and smoky. Someone was playing the piano near the front of the room. Girls were circulating, trying to coax the men to buy them a drink—and one for themselves of course, or maybe a few. Owen figured the girls were earning a commission on those drinks. Or maybe they wanted to get a fellow drunk and roll him for his money. There were some heavy pockets in there some nights. Often they were his.
It was going to be another night of gambling and drinking cheap whisky, but it was fun to match wits with the professional gamblers in the saloon. It was diverting enough to make him stop thinking about Audrey of the beautiful blue eyes for a while.
As he moved toward his favorite poker table, one of the barmaids approached him with a smile and a wriggle of her hips. Rosemary was her name. He had spent a few hours with her his first night dreaming. She was fun but way too nosey. She rattled on and asked too many personal questions. She was pretty, with rich blond hair and caramel colored eyes with the thickest dark eyelashes he had ever seen. In this sett
ing, she wore way too much makeup and smelled of rancid perfume and cigar smoke. But she had been fun for a tumble, not expecting more from him. That was a pleasant change. Women in his real life always wanted something more, and God forbid he should think about taking a mistress! The press would be all over that like a bad suit. No, out in the real world, he was a single man for the time being. Single was his identity these days, and it was something he had learned to live with.
Rosemary sidled up and ran her hand up his arm to his chest, where she let it rest suggestively. “How’s big chief White Star today, sugar?”
He snorted. “Not a big chief, Rosie, just a simple Indian.”
Her hand trailed down his torso to rest on his hip, teasing the muscle there as though wishing it was something else made of muscle. “Aw, sugar, you underestimate your charm. You’re a big chief in my book.”
“Thanks.”
Rosemary’s touch traveled to his groin. He carefully moved her hand away and left it at her side. “Not tonight, hon. I got some plans to make myself a rich man before the night’s through.”
She pouted. “You don’t like me anymore?”
“Like you fine. Just got other plans, is all.” Actually, compared to Audrey, Rosemary was a garish caricature of a woman. He didn’t quite know what he had seen in her that first night in his RAVE, except maybe a quick lay with a willing woman who supposedly had no designs for more than that one roll in the hay. She was a dream creature, a pleasure that he could enjoy without any repercussions.
Owen continued toward the table, but Rosemary followed him. As soon as he sat down and put his stake on the table, she was in his lap, her arms around his neck and her breath against his cheek. “White Star’s got a gal,” she announced, and the men around the table looked over at them.
One fellow was shuffling the cards, a cigarillo dangling from the corner of his mouth, a bowler perched atop his graying hair. “So what.”
The gambler next to him—Phelps—wearing a fancy suit, looked at his pocket watch. “How long are you going to be shuffling those cards, Miller? I don’t want to wait all night.”
The Winner (Romantek) Page 3
