Romance: Luther's Property

by Laurie Burrows

  He removed all her clothes until she was left with her corset and underwear. These too he removed, by which time, Elsa was trembling with longing. He turned her round and gave an appreciative sound. She had expected to feel embarrassed at standing naked in front of a man, but she and Christopher seemed locked in their own private world.

  It was her turn to watch as he undressed. His chest was full of hair and when he was as naked as she was, she stepped to him and ran her fingers over the hair in his chest. He pulled her to the bed and to his lap facing him. His mouth was now at level with her chest and he took each of her nipples into his mouth.

  Later, what seemed to be like hours to Elsa, she stirred and arose from her sleep. She was sprawled across Christopher’s chest. She remembered what had transpired between them and felt her face burn. If that’s what happened between married couples, Elsa would be happy to do it over and over again. She recalled the moment when they had become one; the searing pain, followed by the rising pleasure.

  She had matched Christopher’s movements and then felt something inside her explode into tiny pieces. These thoughts excited her again and she felt moistness between her legs. She caressed Christopher’s body, touching him in secret places that she hadn’t known existed. Still in his sleep, he groaned and touched her back until finally; he guided her on top of him and slid her into his manhood.

  Elsa found herself moving along to his movements. She experimented a little, grinding her hips against him, and his reactions told her that she was doing the right thing. Soon she lost all control, and they made love again. When it was over, Elsa felt happier than she ever had.

  They spent two more nights at the hotel until Christopher said they had to return otherwise, his workers would worry. Elsa could have stayed there forever.

  “I’m the luckiest man to ever walk on this earth.” Christopher declared as they were leaving.

  Elsa smiled and climbed the buggy. It was time to see her new home. The ranch was almost an hour’s ride away from the town. The land on both sides of the road was dotted with cows and sheep, and in some places rows of corn and wheat. It was hilly land and breathtaking. Everywhere she looked was green. Montana was fertile.

  “Here we are.” Christopher said guiding the buggy away from the main road to a drive covered in gravel. The buggy made crushing noises as the wheels connected with the small stones. Her first view of the ranch made her gasp. It was white with a porch that seemed to circle it and on the front, large trees that shaded the drive and the porch.

  The buggy came to a halt in front of the house and Christopher helped her down.

  “Your home is beautiful.” Elsa said.

  “Our home.” Christopher corrected.

  She walked to the end of the house from where she could see the rest of the land. There were smaller buildings dotted near the house and to her excitement she saw a patch of land that looked like it had once been a kitchen garden.

  “Do you like gardening?” Christopher said, coming to stand beside her.

  “I do, I love working with my hands. I used to milk our only cow back home.” Elsa said. “I could help with that if you like.”

  “Well, my eager wife. Right now I want to show you to your new home.”

  They walked to the front door and Christopher flung it open. In one fluid movement, he took her into his arms and carried her inside the house. He only put her down after he kicked the door shut with his leg. Elsa looked at her surroundings. They were in an airy carpeted hallway. She kicked off her shoes.

  “This is the entrance; you can decorate it however you wish, or indeed any part of this house. It’s yours now.” Christopher said.

  He took her hand and led her to a room on the left. It turned out to be the living room. Four chairs were arranged round a table and on the corner was a huge stone fireplace. Elsa imagined snuggling on a rug, next to a roaring fire on cold winter nights. They went through a door to a kitchen almost as big as the living room.

  It was as neat as anything she had ever seen, and fully equipped with a modern stove as well as nicely built kitchen counters.

  “Now to the bedrooms, are you ready?” Christopher teased.

  “I’m ready.” Elsa said demurely and followed him back to the hallway.

  The bedrooms were further along, three in total with a washroom between them. The master bedroom was at the end of the hallway. Elsa walked in first and loved the room at first glance. One side of the wall was occupied by a window, which lit up the room. The king sized bed was in the middle of the room and on the other side a wardrobe.

  Elsa sat on the bed and bounced on it.

  “What do you think?” Christopher said.

  Elsa was touched to see that he was worried about her reaction to his home. She stood up and kissed him on the mouth.

  “It’s beautiful, better than I could ever imagine. I’m lucky to be here...”

  Her voice got drowned out by Christopher’s mouth on hers. She had learnt a lot in the last two days. Elsa teased his lips with her tongue and ran her hands on his back. He capped her in her back and pulled her to him. Within minutes they were both undressed and on the bed.

  “Christopher, anybody home?” a voice called out at the backyard.

  Elsa looked up from the stove where she was spooning two plates of food into their plates. Christopher stood up and went to open the kitchen door.

  “Where have you been? I came two days ago and you were not here.” The newcomer said.

  He entered the room, and Elsa saw a handsome man, about the same age as Christopher. He stopped short when he saw her.

  “Ah I see. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” He said.

  “No its fine. In any case I want you to meet my new wife. Mathew, this is Elsa. Elsa, this is my good friend Mathew. He owns the ranch next door, so if you ever have a problem, you can ask for his help.”

  “You can ask for more than that.” Mathew drawled making Elsa break out into giggles.

  “Stop flirting with my wife Mathew; get your own.” Christopher said.

  “Please sit down, there’s more than enough lunch for all of us.” Elsa said.

  “Don’t encourage him or he’ll be coming here every day.” Christopher said.

  Elsa saw another side to Christopher. He and Mathew teased each other during the meal, but they also spoke seriously about their cattle. She listened intently eager to learn as much as she could about the workings of the ranch.

  “This is lovely, I could get used to it.” Christopher said. “Is there more?”

  “Of course.” Elsa said beaming at the pleasure Christopher’s compliments gave her.

  She poured out more vegetables, biscuits and a beef stew. All the while her mind was busy with plans for the ranch. She would breed chicken, that way they wouldn’t have to buy eggs from the store. She thought of all the things Christopher had bought in town, things she could very well make at home.

  “Do you have a sister Elsa?” Mathew said.

  Not knowing where he was going with the question, Elsa said innocently. “Yes I do why?”

  “I’m a lonely bachelor and I need a wife.” Mathew said and Elsa was not sure if he was kidding or not.

  She laughed and decided to take it as a joke but the more she observed Mathew the more she thought he and Amanda would make a fine couple. After they finished their lunch and washed it down with a cup of tea, Mathew stood up.

  “Thank you so much for the best meal I’ve eaten in years.” He said.

  “You’re welcome anytime.” Elsa said.

  The men left, but Christopher lingered behind. When Mathew’s footsteps faded, he bent and kissed her hard on the mouth.

  “I won’t be long.”

  “I’ll be waiting.” Elsa said in a low voice.

  A Leap of Faith in a Billionaire Cowboy

  By: Erin Walsh

  A Leap of Faith in a Billionaire Cowboy

  © Erin Walsh 2016 – All rights reserved

  Publish
ed by Steamy Reads4U

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events are purely coincidental. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

  This book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please return it to the seller and purchase a copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Warning

  This book contains explicit content intended for readers 18+ years old.

  If you are under 18 years old, or are not comfortable with adult content, please close this book now.

  Chapter 1

  “Sara-May, I did not bring you all the way out here to marry a man with no honor!” My father paces the floor shaking his head furiously. His face is so red that it matches the beets growing in my garden.

  “Papa, please, it couldn’t have been him!” I know that my pleading will do no good. It never does. My father is a man who very firmly believes that a woman’s place is in the kitchen. She should have no opinion other than that of her father, and when he is dead, her husband. Still, I can’t help but try.

  “I did not tell you about this to offer you a chance to argue his case. I told you as a courtesy, because you are my daughter and he is the father of my grandson. I now see that that was a mistake.” My cheeks burn scarlet now, my frustration building and tears are brimming in my eyes, but I’m not going to cry. Father says that women who cry to get their way are worse than men who steal because at least men who steal have guts. He is already accusing my child’s father of being a thief, I’m not going give him the satisfaction of my crying as well. He’s seen me cry plenty of times before certainly, but not this time. This time I will hold strong.

  “Yes, father.” I bite my tongue, partly to forget the tears and partly to avoid saying something I’ll regret.

  “It would be my suggestion that you stay far from the General Store tomorrow, Sara-May. It would only make things more difficult for the both of us.” I can’t even look at him. His words aren’t a suggestion at all, rather a requirement. A requirement that if I disobey, there will almost certainly be consequences. And father’s consequences are never as simple as a slap on the wrist.

  Father leaves the room, satisfied that he has made his point and for a moment I can do nothing but sit and breathe. My heart is still racing and my whole body shaking. Tomorrow afternoon my father will arrest the father of my child, the man I hope to be my husband someday and there is nothing that I can do to stop it.

  “Sara-May?” Betsy sticks her head through the parlor door. “I heard your father, he was in quite a state. Is there anything I can do to help?” For once I don’t think there is anything she can do at all. She may have a way with my father, but this time I’m afraid there is no changing his mind.

  Betsy has served as my mother, nanny and tutor for most of my life – at least since my mother died when I was five years old. She always has the right answers and usually she can turn my father’s head around, but I’m fairly certain that this time her powers of persuasion will be fruitless. I shake my head.

  “No ma’am.” I can’t bring myself to look at her. I just know that if I do the tears will begin falling and once they start I’m not sure that they will ever stop.

  Betsy pushes her way in through the slightly open door and pushes it closed behind her. She bustles over to me noisily in her swaying skirts.

  “Now…” She says gently, sitting beside me on the sofa. “You tell me what all we can do to make this better.” She places her hand on mine and in that very second the first of my tears slides down my cheek. “Oh, honey. Don’t you cry.” She wipes at my cheek with her fingers. Now I’m sobbing and she gives up trying to wipe the tears away. “You listen here, your father loves you very much and I’m sure he is only doing what he thinks is best for you.” She pulls my head softly to her shoulder, her hand brushing over my long hair. “Shhh.”

  “But he’s not, Betsy. He’s not at all! He wouldn’t even listen to me!” My voice barely came out between the hiccups and squeaks. My nose begins to run. I’m certain that I look like a complete wreck.

  “Darlin’ you have to believe that he is only trying to look out for your best interests, and those of little Sam.” She says. I lift my head off her shoulder and look at her, hurt. I hate her for taking my father’s side and yet I love her so. Why does she always have to try to see the sense in everything?

  “How can putting the father of my child in prison be best for me? How can it be best for my child?” I no longer feel sad or frustrated, anger begins to take over. “And how does he expect me to provide for Sam? I have no job, we depend on Jim’s wages to survive! He knows that! He is the one who has forbidden me to work! ‘It’s not a woman’s place to work,’ he says. So I stayed at home and we learned to make do with Jim’s wages. But if he puts Jim in jail, surely he has to know that he is leaving us without?”

  Jim has never made a lot of money working at the general store, but as the manager he makes enough for us to get by. We have a small house of our own and food on the table every night – some of which I grow in the garden - and while it’s a far cry from my father’s fortune, it’s enough for me.

  “Listen here, I’m sure that your father has a very good reason to believe that Jim is the man he is looking for. Now if he says that Jim robbed those banks, then we need to stand by him until it’s proved otherwise. After all, he is your father and you are his daughter.” I hate the guilt trip. When in doubt, Betsy always goes to the guilt trip. She knows that by reminding me that I am all the family my father has, she can force me to relent. But this time, I have my own family to think of as well.

  “And Jim is my child’s father!” I say. “How can I see him be locked away for something that he didn’t do, Betsy? They’ll hang him for it!” The thought of Jim being hung by the neck makes my stomach turn. From the look on Betsy’s face, it makes hers turn as well. She lets out a quiet sigh and pats my hand.

  “Child, how can you be so sure that your father is wrong? He’s a man of the law, he wouldn’t just make up such charges for the sake of it! What could he possibly gain from that? It certainly wouldn’t make him a good sheriff and you know how much your father values his position.” Betsy shakes her head, almost as though she’s trying to shake the very idea out of it.

  “Betsy, he has never liked Jim. Not since I got pregnant with Sam. It wasn’t the proper way to do things and you know how my father likes the proper way. And Jim doesn’t have the money that father had hoped I would marry in to. All of those suitors and every one my father picked had a small fortune to his name! And now that Sam is older, me and Jim, we were planning to get married and the very idea of it must have turned my father to...” Before I even finish talking, Betsy is holding up her hand and shaking her head. I stop.

  “Your father wouldn’t do something like that, my love. Of course he didn’t like how things came about between you and Jim, but he wouldn’t destroy a marriage just for the sake of it. He wouldn’t leave little Sam without a father just because of the timing of things. When it all comes down to it you are his daughter and Sam, he’s his grandson. He loves you both so very much.” She stands up and runs her palms down the front of her dress. “Just think about what I’m saying Sara-May. He’s your father and he loves you so much that he moved his whole life out here to make sure that you had the best opportunity. He’s just trying to do what’s best for you and little Sam now.” She shuffles out of the room. I sit watching t
he small birds from the front window. They hop around pecking at the ground in search of juicy worms. I detest even them for their joy. How can life be so unfair?

  I scoop Sam up from the pram in the kitchen. Betsy stands at the stove peeling potatoes and dropping them in to a pot.

  “Betsy, Sam and I are headed home.” I tell her as calmly as I can manage. Despite infuriating me with her defense of my father, I know that she meant well. I can never stay angry at her. She nods with a smile before shuffling over to kiss each of us on the cheek.

  “Just remember what I said Sara-May. He means well. And, if Jim is innocent, well then God will see to it that justice prevails.” She pulls Sam’s collar up around his fat neck and goes back to peeling her potatoes.

  I love Betsy more than most anyone, but one thing that I have learned from my real world experience is that justice does not always prevail. And God doesn’t always see to it. Sometimes innocent men are hung by their necks for things they didn’t do, and sometimes it’s just ordinary people who have to fight tooth and nail to free that innocent man before he swings.

  Chapter 2

  “How is your father?” Jim asks me as he sits down at the table for supper. He’s still dressed in his work clothes and without his bath he looks more tired than ever. I can barely stand what I have to tell him. I wait to answer his question, studying every wrinkle on his face, before I realize that I just can’t keep it inside anymore.

  “He believes that you are a bank robber and plans to arrest you tomorrow at the General Store.” It wasn’t quite how I imagined telling him and it definitely wasn’t what he had anticipated me saying, but it had just fallen out of my mouth that way.

  “What’s that?” He asks. From the look on his face it’s obvious that he hasn’t quite caught on to the severity of the accusations, that is, if he heard them at all in my speedy expulsion.