The Wildes of the West #1: The Daughters of Half Breed Haven: Old west fiction of action adventure, romance & western family drama (The Wildes of the West/Half Breed Haven)
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
THE DAUGHTERS OF HALF BREED HAVEN
AUTHOR'S NOTE
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
EPILOGUE
THE WILDES OF THE WEST #1
THE DAUGHTERS OF HALF BREED HAVEN
Copyright © 2017
Cedar Ledge Publishing
All Right Reserved
OTHER BOOKS IN THE WILDES OF THE WEST SERIES
NOW AVAILABLE
HALF BREED HAVEN #1: WILDE-FIRE
(Anall Wilde sister’s adult western adventure)
HALF BREED HAVEN #2: IN DANGER’S SHADOW
(A Cassandra Wilde adult western adventure)
HALF BREED HAVEN #3: DARK RIVALS
(A Lijuan Wilde adult western adventure)
ALL CAN BE FOUND AT THIS LINK
https://www.amazon.com/A.M.-Van-Dorn/e/B077GNX3GP/ref=dp_byline_cont_ebooks_1
COMING SOON 2018
HALF BREED HAVEN: SILVER, GOLD, AND DECEPTION
(A Catalina Wilde adult western adventure)
HALF BREED HAVEN: THE FORBIDDEN RANCH
(An Honor Elizabeth Wilde adult western adventure)
HALF BREED HAVEN: SING THE DEATH SONG
(A Dutch Wilde & Bright Feather adult western adventure)
HALF BREED HAVEN: DISASTER AT DEVIL’S CANYON
(A BlueRiver Wilde adult western adventure)
AND
THE WILDES OF THE WEST #2: DANGER DOWN MEXICO WAY
******
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Author’s Note
* * *
Thank you for joining the Wilde sisters on one of their adventures. Just a quick note regarding what you are about to read
Please be advised the Wilde sisters are all grownups and therefore they engage in very adult escapades and situations that include their romantic encounters as well as the sudden violence that can occur in their continued fight against assorted bad guys of the Old West.
So, in short, these stories are recommended for mature readers of 18+ years of age.
With that said, it’s time to saddle up and dive into the world of Half Breed Haven!
PROLOGUE
* * *
McClatchy Bluff,
Arizona Territory
1873
Cassandra Wilde stood in one of the dark corners, just a few steps from the bar, patiently watching the scene before her as there was definitely no rule of being too careful. Stepping out of the dark, she thought of how the old whorehouse bar wasn’t as crowded as it would be in the in the shank of the evening. It was only late afternoon with nightfall yet to bloom, bringing with it the accompaniment of rowdy revelers. Apart from the two men that sat five-foot length from each other at the bar, focusing on their mugs and drinking away their concerns in this world, three other men sat around a small table at the south window near the staircase enjoying drinks that ranged from coffee, to beer and to whisky while conversing in low tones.
Her detective skills first honed years earlier with the Pinkertons were so second nature to her now she almost unconsciously took note that one of the three men appeared extra watchful of his surroundings, often looking about the room as well as glancing at the view outside through the old windows and grunting whenever the hot coffee he downed touched his tongue. Perhaps there was a bounty on his head as well? Highly likely she thought.
Three vaguely dressed women also sat a few feet behind him, sharing jokes as they drank and at times chattering so loud that it was impossible not to throw a few irritated glances their way. Their faces weren’t visible, though, because of their hooded cloaks.
Cassandra had no concerns with either the three men or the loquacious women, though. It was one of the men at the bar that had caught her fancy. She adjusted the hem of her long flowing gown, consciously allowing the dress to slide sideways so that her long shapely legs could easily be seen. She had no reason to be mindful of the shape her chest took under the cloth; there was no missing her melon shaped endowments that blended with her thin waist and wavy curves that gave her a robust and eye pleasing figure.
At least, she didn’t have to put much effort into looking like a whore. Her gifted body gave her the perfect cover.
Still taking note of the number of visitors in the tavern, she slowly walked toward her target, feigning the best professional smile any prostitute could offer. Clay Travers, the first man at the bar, was no fool and neither was this, her first assignment as well. She had to make their first meeting as absolutely normal as possible. Luckily, he should be the kind of man that quickly got attached to blond prostitutes with green eyes and a body to kill the sheriff for.
“Hi, beauty,” Cassandra stepped beside him and batted her eyelashes at him.
As expected, her target’s eyes left his half-empty mug and focused on her body. She kept her smile intact as he grunted in appreciation, his eyes trailing her naked legs back to her well-packed boobs. He was leaning on the bar before, but his body had turned fully to give her all the attention she needed.
“Name is Miss Kelly,” Cassandra whispered, moving so close to him that she could feel his warm breath on her neck.
Miss Kelly was the name she had adopted as her new identity since she started working undercover to nail the notorious bank robber, Clay Travers. According to the information she had received, he was also living a disguised life, having shaved his beard and moustache clean, fooling a few. The rest of the news was that he hung around more often than not in a whorehouse, and that was how she got her new job.
If she had done her calculations well and the man before her was indeed Clay Travers, Cassandra knew it was only a matter of time before someone got cuffed or sent to the gallows.
“Well, fellas here call me Brent, sweetie.”
Clay Travers’ croaky voice brought her back to the moment and she placed her palm on his large arms just to get more intimate.
“Well, I think I would call you Beauty,” she teased him, already allowing her fingers to draw cute little circles on his large arms. “You’ve got beautiful arms, Brent.”
He obviously was a tough man. His arms weren’t the only huge part of his body. His chest was wide and those thighs? By the time she glanced at him, she noticed that he was looking at her rather curiously.
“Haven’t seen you here before,” He grinned.
“Well, the madam, Miss Antoinette, lent me out to a cat house in Carlyle Springs to pay a debt. I just got back and I’m quite keen on leaving this boring hall for one of those better rooms upstairs.”
Giving him the assurance that she was as interested in him as he was interested in her did the trick. Cassandra deliberately heaved a long sigh, allowing his eyes to dance around their sockets excitedly, as her breasts jiggled together. She slowly dropped her hand from his arm, did a whimsical whirl of
her body and began to slowly leave the bar.
Good job thinking on your feet, girl. He is right on your tail and isn’t worried a bit about your strange face.
Well, at least she’d gotten the bandit right where he should be going to, Cassandra thought, as she took the stairs leading to the rooms above. To be sure that things were still unspooling smoothly, she took one last glance behind her at a smiling Clay Travers and another at the three women that were supposed to look as ordinary as possible with their elusive dressings. In truth, they were as far from ordinary as conceivable.
If everything went according to plan, hopefully, none of the three men who had grown more conscious of their environment as Clay Travers trailed after her were going to present an issue. Their low conversation had given away to a spirited game of five-card stud at their table by the base of the stairs. Cassandra knew that they weren’t in the bar just to drink and play cards. They were Clay’s new recruits. He surely needed a gang since his original one had been gunned down in Crystal City in his last ill-fated robbery attempt – the same one that had forced him to find refuge in this out-of-the-way cow town.
Arriving upstairs, Cassandra didn’t have long to praise herself for getting Clay to tag along. Immediately, she led him into one of the prepared rooms. He slung his gun belt on one of the posters of the bed, groaning happily behind her as he spun her around and plastered her body to the wall. Cassandra just smiled at him, wondering for a final time, if she truly had the right man. The late afternoon sun, filtering from the full-length window gave her a clearer view of his face, though, highlighting his pointed nose and a small bruise just underneath his lower lip.
Yes, it was indeed the Clay Travers, despite his deceptive clean shave.
“Easy, Beauty,” Cassandra laughed when his teeth hungrily tore at the hem of her dress.
His hands had gone underneath her dress and were doing a rather good job at unstrapping her braces. Heck, Clay Travers obviously wasn’t only good at robbing banks, but at robbing a girl of all her clothing and getting her half naked within seconds. Her breasts were suddenly out of their struts and were having his full face in between them.
“I’m never gentle,” she heard him boast as he nuzzled her chest.
Well, neither am I, Cassandra thought to herself, smiling mischievously.
She held his face in her palms first, loving the way its rough edges grazed her soft palms before pulling herself from the wall and turning him so his back was now against it. Quickly her left hand went for his pants as soon as one of his fingers found the wet hole between her thighs. She didn’t waste any time as well helping tug down his clothing until he was free of them and as she did so his rod jolted up proudly. It took only one glance at it for Cassandra to gasp sheepishly and wonder why he had to have one so big and beautiful.
It was the kind of cock any real prostitute would have forgone her usual fee to enjoy. Shrugging, Cassandra decided that she might as well make the best use of having it to herself now, before she threw him to the gallows.
“What ya doing?”
Cassandra paid no mind to him, as she crouched in front of him, handling his cock as if it was some trophy. She guided the solid flesh into her mouth and moaned satisfactorily as it slid through the edges of her mouth.
“Holy!” her ungentle beauty groaned, his eyes rolling back into his head.
Again, Cassandra blocked him out and concentrated on her feast. His dick kept growing in her mouth, giving her body the chills and filling her head with all the things she could do with it. Clay, had gotten hold of her hair and was pulling at it to control the movement of her head. His cock sometimes dived in deeper into her throat, intoxicating and making her more insane.
She really wasn’t prepared when her criminal suddenly held her head in place and glanced down at her with a whimsical smile.
“You do allow chaps to explore south of the border, don’t you?” he asked.
Cassandra smiled up at him, still having his cock deep inside her mouth. She nodded, though, giving him the response he wanted. Satisfied, he returned her smile and lifted her to her feet.
“My turn!” his voice was filled with unbridled anticipation as he spoke the words.
They exchanged positions in a flash with her back once again pressed to the wall and Clay Travers bending to trace kisses all over her mid-thigh. He ran his fingers around her sex, stopping sometimes to fondle her. When his lips joined his fingers down there, Cassandra raised a leg over his shoulders and unleashed inaudible words unremittingly.
“You like it, wench?” he laughed, pulling her closer and digging his tongue deep within his prize.
Did she like it? Cassandra would love to think that she was going insane instead. He was frantically nibbling every flesh he came across down there. His tongue was doing a better job too, penetrating her so fast and fluid like any cock would. Speaking of cocks, Cassandra blushed as she remembered how huge Clay Travers’ had felt in her mouth. How would it feel deep within her too?
She only had a few seconds to find out. Her body suddenly began to shudder as climax took over it. Clay Travers wouldn’t have her succumbing to her orgasm before he was penetrating her thighs, though. He jumped to his feet and through a devilish look her way.
“Heck, if you’re gonna do that just yet!” he commanded, pulling her up on the wall and surrounding his waist with her legs.
He thrust deep into her before she could catch her breath. Cassandra was dizzy for a few seconds, wondering why Clay Travers had to be the culprit she had to bring in. His cock felt so warm, so perfect, thick and pleasing inside her. It felt so wrong to ever let him take it out.
When he finally did, Cassandra opened her mouth to hiss a complaint, but he shoved it back in, shutting her up. He began to penetrate her walls deeper now, totally unaware of the climax that made its way to her spine – or perhaps he was only mindful of the climax that gradually gripped his balls.
Whichever way, Cassandra dipped her fingers into the hard muscles of his shoulder afterwards, yelling out her orgasm like a satisfied animal that had finally left its cage. Clay, on the other hand, tightly grasped her thighs and gave in too, rhyming his climax with hers.
For a while, it felt as if the small room continued to echo with their groans as they climaxed together. Cassandra’s bliss slowly ebbed away after a few seconds, though, replaced by the knowledge that it was time to focus on the job at hand. She used the sheet to gently mop the sweat off of her body as soon as Clay edged an inch away from her. He rested with his hands behind his head and kept staring at her with a gratified look.
How long had it been since he had heart-throbbing sex?
“You ready to go again?” Cassandra asked, teasing him.
“Hell yeah, I got more steam in me than the Grand Western Express to Casper’s Crossing!”
Clay had a playful look about him as he reached out for her again. He was engagingly highly spirited, but it was high time she disappointed him. Cassandra reached under the pillow and spun around with a small derringer a second before he could leave his position and grab her naked breasts. Clay jumped back off the bed immediately, stunned as she leveled the gun at him.
“What the hell ya doing, wench!” he hissed.
“I’ve got you!” Cassandra triumphant voice echoed in the small room. She leaped off the bed energetically and kicked open a suitcase on the floor immediately, keeping an eye on him. Both of them were still naked, but it wasn’t going to be an issue, was it? Cassandra deftly traded the derringer for a silver-plated pistol in the suitcase and grabbed a reward poster from it too.
“Clay Travers. This is you, is it not? Silver tongue devil and murderer of six tellers across the Arizona territory?” she read the exact words on the poster out to him.
“Who the hell are you?” The outlaw was still stunned. Cassandra watched amusingly as his eyes darted about before falling on the open suitcase. He let out a long whistle. Immediately he saw a picture in a gilded frame on top of her
well-packed western clothing. Cassandra was in it, and she was not alone. Clay seemed to recognize then who she was.
Slowly, he said, “That picture …”
“What about it? It travels with me wherever I go.” Cassandra frowned at him, making sure that the gun was still pointed at him.
“Now, wait just a second … mother of pearl …! You’re one of them, aren’t you?” Clay Travers cried as soon as she began to step towards him. He took a step backward and trying to process this turn of events, “You’re from that place folks call Half Breed Haven? I heard the stories … some rich white rancher with a passel of daughters. Only thing is one of them is a mulatto, another a China woman, and even a Mexican wench, plus a normal son and daughter, which I reckon is you!”
Well, the man sure had his ears to the ground. Cassandra would have to give him that.
“To us, we are all normal, but you did forget my other brother, a Yavapai,” Cassandra replied to him, amusing herself.
“An Injun? Well, that fits,” he spat. “What I don’t get is you pretending like you’re one of Miss Antoinette’s whores.”
“It seemed like the perfect way to snare you once I confirmed you were hiding out around here. You have to admit it worked,” Cassandra winked.
She was getting bored with all the talk, though. If he planned on bailing or doing anything stupid, he might have to lose a knee or two.
“You sure are one dedicated witch, I’ll say that for you. Sleeping with me and all …”
“A Wilde always gets her man one way or another. Might as well enjoy myself,” Cassandra shrugged. “All the real working girls you’ve been with here told me what you had going on down there. Consider this afternoon a final treat before you stretch rope.”
Clay was acting too casual and it didn’t take too much calculation before she guessed that he was planning something.