Marshal's Law

by Maddie Taylor

  “That’s a thought. But don’t ever think you’re a burden. My folks love you like a daughter already.”

  She beamed up at him, her enthusiasm so contagious that he grinned broadly back at her.

  “Let me think about it and talk to Ma and Pa.”

  “Thank you, cowboy.”

  Placing a firm arm around her waist, he hugged her close. “Janelle, you know cowboys are also called cowpokes. They manage the cattle and load them into the cattle cars on their way to market or slaughter. It’s a hard, dirty job, and not really a compliment or considered an endearment.”

  “Really? Huh… Cowboys in my time are sexy men who wear boots and a Stetson and can dance the two-step. They can also make a woman swoon just by breathing.”

  “Well, then, I guess I can claim three out of the four.”

  “You mean you can’t dance?”

  His snort of laughter was accompanied by a sexy grin as he pulled her closer. Janelle was happy her quick wit could bring a smile to her frequently-stern husband’s face. Maybe, she thought, she could keep him off guard with sex and sparkling conversation so he’d focus on something other than her bottom and spankings. Or… maybe not, she corrected, as his hand slipped possessively to her hip. He gave her bottom a firm squeeze before he picked up their pace, clearly eager to get home.

  Chapter Eleven

  They spent the next few days in town. Janelle explored the house during the day while Aaron went to work, and the nights were spent in each other’s arms, exploring one another. Janelle quickly learned what had been missing in her previous sexual encounters—skill. Aaron knew what to do to draw an instant response from her.

  Their first morning together, Janelle had served up a cold breakfast of fruit and Letty’s delicious blueberry muffins that she’d kindly sent with the newlyweds. As she cleared the dishes and came around to his side of the table, he’d snaked his arm around her waist, hugging her close to his side. Smiling in contentment, she’d affectionately slid a hand across his shoulders in response. He was in a good mood and they seemed to be growing closer, so she asked him about something that she’d been thinking about for days.

  “Aaron, do you think you can find time to take me back to the woods where your deputy found me? I’d like to take a look.”

  His head swung around, and his brow furrowed in question. “Why? Jeremy and I searched the area thoroughly, Janelle. There’s nothing there.”

  “I was hoping that seeing the place where it happened might trigger my memory. It’s hard having a big chunk of your life missing. Besides, I’d really like to know if I went into the Meyers house or not. It’s been bugging me.”

  “You know that was all a bunch of nonsense.”

  “But still…” Her questions turned into squeals as Aaron suddenly pushed his chair back and pulled her into his lap. His lips found her throat, and his warm breath tickled the sensitive spot where her neck and shoulder met.

  Giggling, she squirmed on his lap, arching away from his tickling lips. She protested as she pushed against him. “Aaron, stop. I can’t stand to be tickled.”

  With a wicked grin, he tested just how sensitive she was by dancing his fingers along her ribs and sides.

  “No, please,” Janelle laughed helplessly as she tried futilely to escape his tormenting hands. “Stop, before I wet my pants.”

  Instantly, he’d stopped and pulled her head back down so he could once again run his lips over her throat. The delicious feel of his mouth on her skin and his hand sliding into her hair made her moan with delight. When he angled her head perfectly and sealed her lips with his in a hot, steamy kiss, she melted against him. He held her close, and his tongue thrust into her as if he owned that part of her. When he finally came up for air, a shiver passed through her as he whispered against her lips, “I want you.”

  “But, Aaron, you had me just an hour ago.”

  “I want you again. I can’t get enough of you, darlin’.” He released her hair and reaching behind her, pushed the breakfast dishes out of his way. Grasping her firmly by the waist, he lifted her and planted her bottom firmly on the table. Without pause he stood, gathering her nightgown and robe in his big hands. He had her bared to the waist, and the sight of her silky-smooth cleft had him instantly ready. “Spread your legs,” he demanded ardently. “I’ve got to have you right now.”

  Stunned by his passion, she spread her thighs eagerly, wanting him just as much in that instant. His hands made quick work of his button fly as he stepped between her splayed thighs. With a single thrust, he embedded himself deep inside her. “Janelle,” he groaned hoarsely, “you are always so hot and wet, always so ready for me.”

  His words flamed her desire, and she soared higher as he filled her near to bursting.

  “Let’s get this gown off you. It’s in my way.”

  He helped her, lifting her hips with his hands, so she could pull the material out from underneath her. Strong hands helped her tug it hurriedly over her head, discarding it on the floor behind them.

  “Now, lie back. I want to watch you as I take you.”

  Aroused beyond reason, she lost all inhibitions, and her hands swept over her belly and up to cup her aching breasts. She writhed before him and watched as his eyes, bright with his arousal, followed every movement as her hands played across her breasts.

  “Pinch your nipples, baby. Make them tight and hard.”

  Her nipples—already hard and aching—tightened further beneath his gaze. Although timid about touching herself in front of him, she was too far along in her arousal to resist and did as he asked. Arching her back, she pinched and rolled her nipples between her forefinger and thumb as she begged him to end the torment. “Aaron, please touch me. I’m on fire and ache so badly.”

  “Criminy, watching you touch yourself like that makes me wild. Don’t stop.” He hooked his arms beneath her thighs, spreading them impossibly wide as he pushed them toward her chest, leaving her fully open and vulnerable to his possession. His eyes dipped between her thighs, and he watched as he plunged deep into her molten heat. Knowing he was seeing her, all of her, spread open and yielding to him, was incredibly hot and inflamed her already intense desire, and she felt her orgasm soar rapidly to its peak.

  Leaning over her, he admitted fervently, “I have no control around you, darlin’.” Nudging her hand away, his hot lips captured an aching rose tip as he sucked the turgid nipple into his mouth, drawing on it feverishly as he drove into her, bringing them both to a stunning and powerful release.

  Afterward, they rested briefly on their dining table before rising and surveying the mess they’d made. They stood looking at the crushed biscuits, scattered utensils, and spilled milk, until Aaron reached down and sheepishly plucked a squashed, jelly-smeared biscuit from her right bottom cheek. Their ensuing howls of laughter had them clinging to each other, until tears ran down Janelle’s cheek. When their amusement had at last died down, he took a wet napkin and thoroughly wiped her sticky bottom. He’d then helped her clean up, before grabbing her for one more enthusiastic kiss. Lips and tongues sparred hungrily, as if they hadn’t just finished making love. Finally, Aaron forced himself to pull away, whispering huskily, “You’d better get dressed, sweet pea. Ma will be here any minute.”

  Appalled that she’d forgotten her expected visitor, Janelle rushed toward the stairs. Abruptly she halted, screaming when she realized that his mother could have easily walked in on their X-rated breakfast display. “Aaron! She could have… right in the middle… of…” Flustered, she just stared at him, her mouth agape.

  He decided to help her out, and closing it with one long finger, he laughingly added, “Right in the middle of breakfast? That would have been tragic for you both, but she would have understood and politely bowed out until we finished. She was a newlywed once herself, after all.”

  Janelle’s hands went to her warm cheeks as she felt the residual flush reheat her skin. “I am in a perpetual state of embarrassment around you. What happe
ned to the gentleman of only a week ago who left my room, not wanting to cause me distress?”

  “Why, you married him, of course.” After that straightforward statement, he shooed Janelle off to get dressed while he cleaned up their mess himself.

  * * *

  Aaron had left hours ago, and Letty was expected that morning to help her start on her new dresses. When the noon hour arrived and she still wasn’t there, Janelle began to worry. Pacing anxiously on the front porch was getting her nowhere. What if something had happened to her and Henry on the way to town? And Aaron was late as well. She remembered him saying he had things to catch up on before going to Denver next week, but that he’d try to make it home in time for lunch before one o’clock. It was almost one now, which meant Letty was over three hours late. What if Aaron didn’t come? How would she let him know about his parents’ delay?

  Fifteen minutes later, she was marching down the stairs, headed for the jailhouse. Aaron would have a fit she was sure, but she needed to let him know that something was wrong. How did these people survive without phones?

  She turned down the street toward the jail, but after a few blocks realized she’d made a wrong turn when she found herself in the industrial part of town. There was a glass blowing plant and a brewery from which the smell of yeast and fermenting beer was overpowering. There were also some tent cabins and boarding houses where she assumed the plant workers lived. Turning, she retraced her steps, but without street signs or familiar landmarks, she must have taken another wrong turn because the street where she stood held much sleazier establishments. She saw two saloons and what she realized was her first sighting of a real brothel. Being midday, there wasn’t much foot traffic, which was fortunate for her. But being lost, she had no choice but to find someone to ask for directions. At a cross street, she spied a church steeple towering over the other buildings and headed that way, certain the preacher would be a safe bet for assistance.

  She was just about to climb the wide front steps of the church, when the sound of horse’s hooves drawing close had her turning. She looked up into the furious face of Marshal Aaron Jackson. Uh-oh!

  “Aaron, thank goodness. I believe I’m lost.”

  He dismounted and walked toward her, slow and calm. His actions did not match his angry words however when they came roaring out, “What in tarnation are you doing wandering the streets alone, young lady?”

  She took an instinctive step back. “Your mother is over two hours late, and I was worried. When you didn’t show up for lunch, I thought something was seriously wrong and decided to walk to the jailhouse to find you.”

  Looking up at the church behind her, he questioned with a healthy dose of sarcasm, “Expecting to find me at services, Janelle?”

  “Um, no. I was actually going to ask the minister for directions. I took a wrong turn or two.”

  Her eyes involuntarily flicked back to where she had come from. Seeing her glance, he followed its direction, and looking over his shoulder, he froze. She knew he had figured out where she had been, and she quickly took another step backward. When she did, his eyes flashed angrily and issued a dire warning. “So help me, if you take another step away from me, I’ll tan your hide right here on the church steps.”

  Janelle froze at that thought. She’d never be able to show her face in church, or in town for that matter, ever again.

  “Smart girl.” Walking up to her, he wrapped a long arm around her waist and hauled her up against him. “Now, tell me that you didn’t come down 6th Street so my heart can start beating again.”

  “I couldn’t say,” she said softly. She had a sneaking suspicion that 6th Street was where the brothel was located. “None of the streets have signs, and I got confused.”

  “Which is one of the reasons why I told you not to go out alone.” He lifted her onto his saddle and mounted behind her. “The other reason is 6th Street—and the dozen or so other streets exactly like it in Laramie. You’d remember it by the saloons and whore houses.”

  She was afraid to say anything, which was answer enough for him.

  “That’s what I thought.” He kicked his horse into a trot, headed past the church, and turned left. “You’ll notice that from our house, you walk straight for six blocks and turn right, Janelle. You obviously turned left and ended up on the wrong side of town. I pointed those streets out to you just last night, do you remember? Regardless, you have no business wandering around by yourself, particularly if you have no idea where you’re going.”

  “What about your parents? Shouldn’t we go look for them?”

  “You won’t be going to look for anyone, my wayward wife. Besides, Ma is already waiting for you at home. They had a mare in foal and got a late start. You have rules to follow, Janelle. By ignoring them, you placed yourself in danger. I shudder every time I think about what could have happened to you.”

  “I’m sorry, Aaron. I was worried.”

  “Tonight, after Ma and Pa have left and I have calmed down, we’ll discuss it further.”

  “Discuss is not a synonym for spank, Aaron.”

  “Sass? Do you think that’s a good idea right now, darlin’?”

  “Probably not.”

  They rode in silence from then on, quickly returning to the house without retracing Janelle’s unsuitable path.

  A subdued Janelle spent the rest of the day with her mother-in-law, learning how to sew. She was distracted but did her best. They took her measurements, and she picked out patterns from a book. Janelle learned how to cut the material and baste the seams. By the end of the day, she was exhausted, having been poked repeatedly and painfully with straight pins. By the time Henry came around to collect her mother-in-law, they had four dresses cut out and ready for her to take with her. Letty planned to stitch them on her new Singer sewing machine that she’d gushed over incessantly. Her thrill over the zigzag stitch had her babbling excitedly for an hour.

  Aaron was coming up the walk just as Janelle was saying goodbye to his parents. He walked them to their wagon, leaving her to watch from the front porch. He kissed his ma on the cheek and helped her into the wagon, while he told his pa they would be heading back to the ranch by week’s end. After they were gone, Aaron turned his searing gaze on his naughty wife. Guiding her into the house, he ordered her to their bedroom. “Go upstairs and strip down to your shift, Janelle. I’ll be up directly.”

  “But, Aaron—” her response was cut off immediately.

  “I don’t want any arguments. Upstairs, remove your clothes, and for stalling you may stand in the corner, face to the wall, and wait for me.”

  “Aaron!” she cried, stomping her foot in frustration. “I am not a child.”

  He crossed his arms and stared at her, one brow quirked in disbelief at her actions. “Right now, you are acting like one. Now do as you’re told, or I’ll add a strapping with my belt to what you already have coming.”

  “Oooooh! You make me want to scream sometimes!” She was so frustrated with the irritating man that she stomped her foot again, looking foolish and childish despite her previous protests to the contrary. Staring at her unreasonable husband, she hesitated.

  “Now!” His low growl had her moving. Tears threatened as she stomped up the stairs in frustration.

  Chapter Twelve

  Upstairs, she stripped out of her gown, working diligently to remove the bothersome corset, but having a bit of trouble with the hook and eye busk at the front. Finally, she pulled it off, sucking in a deep, cleansing breath of relief. Gathering her courage, she left on her short chemise and drawers as she readied for a fight with her still angry husband. She wasn’t about to strip off her drawers and stand there half-naked, waiting for him to paddle her. Janelle also refused to stand in the corner like a naughty child. She was an adult, and if she wanted to take a walk about town, how dare he forbid it? This tyrannical husband act was getting old fast. But she was already half in love with the man—it was just his strict rules she wanted to reverse. Damn Victorian mo
rals and women’s suppression.

  “Are you testing me to see how much I will take from you, Janelle?”

  Startled, she whipped around and looked guiltily at her husband. Where was her indignation of a few seconds ago? “I think the spanking is unreasonable, Aaron. Standing in the corner is even worse. I am a twenty-three-year-old woman, not a five-year-old child.”

  “I think a five-year-old would have enough sense to stay away from saloons and whore houses, don’t you?” Crossing to her dressing table, he picked up her wooden hairbrush and took a seat on the bench. Patting his lap, he signaled where he wanted her. “Let’s get on with this, darlin’. It’s been a long day.”

  “You aren’t seriously going to spank me with my own hairbrush, are you, Aaron?”

  “I told you that when you don’t learn a lesson, the severity increases. This is the third time I’ve found you wandering about alone. You’ve felt my hand twice already and didn’t learn. Now we’ll see if the brush makes a more lasting impression. Pardon the pun.”

  “And if I refuse?”

  “I’m your husband, honey; you don’t get to refuse me. I’d much rather you cooperate and accept the consequences for your actions, but if you don’t, I’ll simply put you over my lap myself. But if that happens, you will definitely feel the strap. So, I recommend you act like the dutiful and obedient wife you vowed to be and get your little butt over here now.”

  Tears stung her eyes, and she hesitantly took a half step toward him. She knew he was a spanker when she’d said, “I do”. At the time, it had seemed like the lesser of two evils. She had also promised not to go off all alone, but she had. “What was I supposed to do, Aaron? I was worried, and three hours had gone by.”

  “You are supposed to do as you’re told and stay where I put you. If I can’t find you, I worry, and today I almost lost my mind. You left without leaving a note. For all I knew you had been taken or were hurt somewhere. I keep telling you this is still a rough town for the most part. We have only about five thousand residents, but we still employ a full time sheriff and ten deputies. That’s a 500:1 ratio, which is unheard of. Plus, I make this my home base because there is constantly something going on. Murders, rape, thefts, and drunken brawls happen here daily. In the past month alone, two innocent girls have been taken off the street and were found days later forced into servitude at one of the brothels. That could just as easily have been you today.”