by Vanessa Vale
I could understand that, for he did that to me as well. Even clothed. When he'd opened his pants and pulled out his cock without one lick of modesty, he not only made my breath catch, he made me...wet. His intensity and focus on me was heady and when I was with him I felt as if I was the only thing on his mind. I could not share this, especially not now, so I folded my hands in my lap, straightened my shoulders impossibly more and settled a smile upon my face. For once, Mrs. Dithers' instruction was helpful.
Allison continued to talk at Ann and Laurel's urging, although while they tried to redirect her away from Dash and onto the handsomeness of Quinn or Porter, presumably both bachelors, she turned her comments back toward my husband.
I had no reason to feel hurt by Allison's words; she meant no harm. If she'd known I was married to Dash as well, she was a very kind woman and would not have spoken of him as she did now.
My hurt came from thoughts of Dash. Did he feel the same about Allison? Had he seen her at church or in passing in town and found her comely? He'd had no choice in marrying me; I’d become his several weeks before I even arrived at Bridgewater.
Connor had been given a choice to marry me. While it was not a love match, I had not forced his hand. Had I taken away Dash's chances to make a life with Allison? Did he see her face, her petite figure when he touched me? Was he thinking of her as he sank into my body?
I added a benign comment here and there into the conversation, but the other women did an excellent job of keeping the conversation moving. It was clear that Allison had been a guest before and was quite comfortable chatting with the women. The chatter was interrupted by a knock on the back door, and then Quinn stuck his head in.
"Come out of the cold," Emma told him.
He removed his hat and stomped his boots on the porch before stepping inside and closing the door behind him. Snow dusted the shoulders of his coat.
"Hello, Miss Travers," he said, nodding at Allison as she stood.
She smiled and I saw her cheeks flush at the man's voice. Was she shy with all men or did she blush solely for those she had an interest in?
"Mr. Quinn."
"The snow is still falling, but I feel it is still safe to travel to town. While you came here on your own, I insist that I take you back."
She eyed the man and most likely saw that he would not be swayed. "Very well. Thank you."
He turned to me. "I’ll deliver your trunk for you and then take Miss Travers into town. Two of the men are at the stables, so if you need them while I'm gone, you know to fire two shots, three if there is an emergency."
I was not aware of that, but the other ladies told him they would do just that.
I nodded my thanks to the man who would deliver the remainder of my clothes, but also for taking Allison back to town. I had no idea where she would have stayed. It would have been unseemly for her to stay with Quinn or any of the other bachelor men. I supposed either Kane or Ian could have stayed at another house for the night to give the illusion of a different kind of marriage than they had, but I was sure they'd all planned for that kind of eventuality. I didn't wish to see Allison fawn over Dash upon his return. Even more so, I did not wish to see how Dash looked at Allison. While he'd given me the assurances of his honor, I did not think I could live with the knowledge of his marrying me solely for honor.
"As soon as you are ready, we will go," Quinn said to Allison, then went back outside.
CHAPTER SEVEN
DASH
We'd wrangled most of the cattle to the nearer pastures; it had taken all of us to do so, but we would only have to venture out again at first light to find the stragglers. The weather hadna relented, only became worse. The snow covered the ground to my ankles and there was nay end in sight to it coming down. With the wind, it was like a blizzard. Any leaves that remained on the cottonwoods by the creek were halfway to Canada by now. The sun had gone down an hour ago and we stomped out boots and entered Kane and Ian's house in one tired, long line of men. The scent of stew filled the air and the heat from the stove felt good.
The women came to collect coats and gloves to hang them to dry on pegs behind the potbellied stove. My eyes caught and held Rebecca's, and the small smile she gave me warmed me deep inside. She wasn't as open about her affections as Olivia was with her men—they tugged her easily enough into the kitchen pantry and shut the door behind them—or the eagerness of Mason and Brody to ensure Laurel was well and that the baby was still safely inside her.
In fact, Rebecca's smile seemed somewhat reserved, but I knew Rebecca was reserved. It was the knowledge that we had a wife waiting for us after a long day of work and this beautiful woman, regardless of how prickly, was ours. I took the smile as something to be treasured, for no matter how small it was, it was freely given.
After hanging up Connor's things, then mine, I gave her the kiss I'd been longing for all day.
She offered her mouth readily enough, then squealed and stepped back. "Dash, your nose is freezing!" Her hand came up to cover her cheek where I'd nuzzled.
I grinned. That was the first good reason for nae kissing me she'd had so far. "Verra well, but I'm going to want double the kisses later once I've thawed out," I warned. Instead of her cheeks turning pink as I expected, her lips pursed and she glanced away. Connor met my eyes over her head and he offered a small shrug. Good, he'd seen that something wasna right as well.
"Rhys!" Olivia cried out, her voice muffled by the pantry door.
"Is she...is she all right?" Rebecca asked both of us.
Connor grinned. "Tis nae a beating she's receiving, lass."
A V formed in her smooth brow just before her eyes widened. "Here? Now?"
Leaning in close, I murmured, "She needed tending and her men are seeing to it."
She stepped back from me as if I'd burned her. I'd done something to upset her, but I didna know what it might be, for I hadna even seen her all day. I could understand her reserve if it was directed at both Connor and me, but it seemed I had been singled out.
"Yes, but here?" She glanced to Connor, then around the kitchen. Brody was helping Laurel to her feet and Mason led them both down the hall. Emma handed Ellie to Ann right before Ian tossed his wife over his shoulder, slapped her arse and carried her up the back stairwell. Kane followed behind.
Andrew stirred the large pot on the stove and ladled some stew into bowls stacked nearby. I was used to having one of the couples fuck in a private corner of the house or stable. Private, yes, but quiet, nay. The sounds of fucking abounded wherever I went on the ranch. Before, rather than bother me, it had only made me wish Connor and I had a bride of our own to focus on. To Rebecca though, it must seem as if we were a bunch of heathens.
"Is everyone having...relations right now?" she whispered.
"Aye, although it seems Andrew and Robert will eat their dinner first before ravishing Ann as they'll watch baby Ellie," I shared, but when she barely offered me a glance before pursing her lips.
"Tis nay relations. What's it called, lass?" Connor asked. "Say it."
She shook her head and pursed her lips. "I...can't."
"Verra well," I replied. "I'm hungry enough to eat a boiled bear, but I want relations with ye more."
Her eyes flared at my words. She was thinking something and it wasna about fucking. "It is not necessary. I do not need...tending as the other women do."
What in bloody hell had the women talked about? They were supposed to talk with her and help Rebecca with her concerns, nae have her disinterested and downright cold. I grabbed Rebecca's coat from a peg, tossed it to Connor, then grabbed my own. "There's nae a person around here that needs more tending and relations as ye."
***
Aye, something wasna right. Back at the house, Connor helped her with her coat and allowed him to kiss her neck but I wasna offered even a glance. I watched them interact as I stoked the fire in the kitchen stove and then went to the parlor to build another.
They joined me after a few minutes and C
onnor tugged Rebecca into his arms and kissed her. Passionately. Deeply. Fully. When he lifted his head, her cheeks were flushed and nae from the cold, her eyes blurry and her mouth wet and red. I stood from my crouch by the fire and came over to them. I took her chin with my thumb to turn her head for a kiss, but she swiveled it away.
Connor raised his brows at her action. "What's wrong with Dash's kisses?"
She sniffed and tilted up her chin. "Nothing."
"Then why aren't ye kissing him?"
She looked away from Connor and down at the fire. "I have a headache," she finally said.
Connor and I shared a glance and I couldna help but roll my eyes. "Is that what they taught ye at school—to say ye had a headache to ward off yer husband?"
She looked up at us through her lashes and I knew I'd been correct.
"Is it time for yer monthlies?" Connor asked and she flushed a vivid scarlet. "Let's check, shall we?"
He took her wrist and pulled her around behind the couch and with a hand at her back, forced her to bend over. "Connor, what are you—"
"Quiet, lass," he said, his voice whip sharp in the room. The sound of crackling wood came from the fireplace, but otherwise only the strong wind could be heard.
He lifted up her skirt without any type of gentleness, tossing the fabric onto her back. Instantly she stood back upright.
"Nay, lass. Over ye go."
"Connor!" she cried out and struggled against his hold.
Connor's gaze met mine. "Give me yer belt."
Rebecca stilled instantly and I watched as the bright flags of color drained from her cheeks. "A belt? No! You can't beat me. Please, I did nothing wrong. Don't hurt me!"
I'd already pulled the leather from my pants and handed it to Connor when she finished her panicked words.
Connor's hand that rested on her back smoothed up and down her spine. "We are nae going to beat ye."
She stilled at his words.
He took the opportunity to grip one of her hands, then the other and pulled her arms behind her back. Carefully, he cinched my belt around her wrists, securing her in place.
"There, now. Where were we? Ah, yes." Connor pushed her dress back up and onto her back and nudged her feet apart so that her pussy was open and visible. "Ye lied, lass. Ye're nay bleeding."
I heard her mumble something into the cushion of the couch.
"I have to wonder then, do ye have a headache or are ye lying about that as well."
She mumbled some more.
Connor spanked her once on the arse, nae too hard, but a bright pink handprint appeared quickly enough.
"You spanked me!" she cried, her head coming up, her hair falling free of the pins.
"Aye, and if ye dinna answer our questions, I will do it again."
She turned to look at us over her shoulder, her eyes all but brimming with anger and fire. "I do not have a headache."
I smoothed a hand over the heated spot on her arse and she flinched.
"My turn," I murmured to Connor, and he stepped back for me to take his place directly behind her.
I ran a finger down her slit and she shivered.
"What did ye talk about while we were moving the cattle?" I asked, continuing the benign movement of my finger. It wasna enough for her to come, but definitely enough of a caress for her to become aroused. Her wetness seeped out onto my finger so I didna worry about Connor being too rough with the lass. In fact, she seemed to like it, but now was nay the time to play at that.
"Babies," she replied.
My hand paused just over her clit. "Are ye afraid of childbirth, sweetheart? Is that it? I know ye said yer mother died in such a way."
She shook her head, more pins falling onto the couch cushion beneath her. "My mother fell down the stairs which brought about her pains too early."
I didna know how Rebecca survived being born earlier than she should, but I was glad she had.
My finger took up its motion again. "What else did ye discuss?"
"Men," she replied, her voice as stiff as her body. She was holding herself still, as tense as could be, fighting me with willpower instead of muscle.
"Any man in particular?" Connor asked, squatting down beside her head.
"Why are you doing this?"
"To get ye to talk, lass. Tis our job to take yer burdens away."
She shook her head. "What if I am your burden?"
"How is that, sweetheart?" My finger slipped inside her, found the spongy spot that had her arching her back and began to stroke it, slowly and deliberately. "How can having ye beneath me like this, watching ye give in to yer pleasure be a burden?"
She didna respond, so I endeavored to get her to talk. "Get me the bag," I told Connor. He went to the kitchen as I continued to use my fingers on her. She couldna come, for I wasna providing her enough pressure on her clit, nor moving my finger at the right pace to tip her over the edge. It only made her thrash on the couch, her hips shifting and moving for me to try to penetrate her further.
Connor returned, pulled out the jar of lubricant and unscrewed the metal lid. I coated my finger and gently stroked over her tightly furled bottom hole. She bucked on the couch at the touch, but with her hands behind her back, she couldna move.
Slowly, very slowly, I rimmed her arse with my thumb, ensuring the ointment made her slick. As I pushed inward, I nudged her clit with a finger and she groaned. The tight ring of muscle clenched down and I slowly began to fuck her —in her pussy and her arse with my fingers—as I questioned her some more.
"Why is this a burden to me, sweetheart?" I asked once again.
"I gave you no choice!" she cried. Her walls clenched down on my my fingers signaling she was close to her orgasm.
"How so, lass?" Connor asked, stroking her hair back from her sweaty face.
"Oh God, please," she begged.
"What?" I asked.
"I need it. Please, I need it so much."
The sound of her begging had me almost coming in my pants.
"You need to come?" I continued to stroke her, just shy of nudging her into coming.
"Yes!" she cried.
I shoulda used her desperate state against her, to force her to tell us what we wanted to know, but she'd begged and I couldna hold her pleasure from her as an interrogation tactic. I wanted her to tell me of her own accord, nae because she was out of her mind. And so I moved my fingers a little faster, pinching down on her clit as Connor murmured very carnal words into her ear. She came within seconds, clenching down upon my fingers again and again as her scream caught in her throat. I didna relent until I'd wrung every bit of pleasure from her body. Only then did I slip my fingers free and undo the belt around her wrists.
REBECCA
The men had every intention of forcing me to share what was troubling me, but in the end, when I'd been so out of my mind with the eagerness to come, Dash had relented. Instead of using my body against me, he'd nudged me over the edge and into bliss. He'd been tender when he lifted me in his arms and carried me upstairs, undressed me with the gentlest of touches, and tucked me into bed. After stripping off his own clothes, he climbed in behind me and pulled my back into his front so we were snug together.
Connor joined us quickly thereafter, sliding into bed on the other side of me. Their hands stroked over my skin, not in a carnal way, but as if they couldn't keep themselves from touching me. What was so special about my body? I couldn't understand their eagerness, their avid interest in me. Me!
"Why?" I asked. The lantern on the table cast a soft yellow glow to the room and with the wind blowing outside, I felt as if we were in a warm, cozy lair—safe and secure from everything outside the bedroom walls.
"Why what?" asked Dash.
It was time to give in and question. They'd proven that while they wanted me to share my feelings, they could use patience instead of force to achieve that goal. Remaining biddable and silent only worked if your husband actually wanted a wife that way. It seemed that neither Connor nor
Dash were interested in that, and instead, to make them happy, I had to share my feelings. It was completely against everything I'd been raised to expect, but I would have to try. I sighed, then said, "You didn't have to follow through with the marriage. You could have any woman you wanted and now you can't."
Dash's hand stilled on my hip. "If nae ye, Rebecca, what woman should I want?"
I shrugged, bit my lip, then replied. "Allison Travers."
I found myself turned onto my back so both men loomed over me. Their gazes were narrowed and focused solely on me.
"Why would I want Miss Travers?" Dash asked. "I've barely been introduced to her."
I glanced away, for their dual stares was a little overwhelming. "She finds you quite appealing. I think she has her heart set on you."
"She told ye this when ye stayed at the boarding house? I didna know she was so forward," Connor asked.
I shook my head. "Today. She brought my trunk to the ranch and visited with us. She spoke of you with avid interest."
"Are ye jealous, sweetheart?" Dash brushed my hair back from my forehead.
Was it jealousy I felt? Did it bother me that Allison was interested in Dash? Some, yes. She was very pretty and could easily catch a man's eye. "Perhaps, but I wonder more about whether my brother's proxy marriage took away your choices."
Dash took hold of my chin so I was forced to hold his gaze. In the soft light, his pale eyes looked very dark, and strong shadows fell across his rugged features. "I had choices before ye came, sweetheart. If I wanted Miss Travers, if she interested me even half as much as ye did when I first saw ye—all stiff and prickly as a cactus upon yer horse—I would have done something about it. But ye are forgetting tis nae only me that has to be interested in Miss Travers for me to wed the lass."
"I have to want her, too," Connor added.
"While she is fetching and nice enough, she isna for us."
Connor shook his head.
"I knew ye were mine—ours—right away."
