Missy Meets the Marshal (Lone Star Love Book 2)

by Amelia Smarts

  Chapter 3 - Spanked for Your Blarney and Lies

  Beth dried herself with a soft towel. She felt Grover's gaze raking her body from the other side of the room. She felt warm all over, yet she shivered with anticipation and desire. She felt sure that he would have his way with her, and she hoped that he would. She wanted to feel his touch again. She already missed it. Finished drying, she wrapped the towel around her and met his eyes.

  "Come here, Missy."

  She padded to him, her bare feet leaving small, damp tracks across the hardwood floor. He opened his legs slightly and guided her to stand between his knees. "I think you're beautiful, you know." He ran the back of his hand down the side of her face. "I should've said that before, but I'm not used to having a woman here with me. I find myself a bit balled up by it, truth be told."

  He settled his hands on her hips. "Now, darlin', I told you about me. I expect the same in return. I'm fond of you already, if you can't tell, and I want to help you. But I can't do that if you're not honest with me."

  Beth stared at him, awed over him saying she was beautiful and calling her darling and confessing he was fond of her. She wondered if maybe he liked her in particular, more than he liked other women. She mentally shook herself. She couldn't allow herself such vain luxuries. She considered his words about being honest with him and determined she couldn't do that either. She eyed the front door, feeling about as far away from it as the ocean.

  "No, darlin'. Look at me, nowhere else." His tone remained gentle, but some of the sternness returned. She felt her butterflies return with it. She wanted to obey him. She wanted to be honest with him, but she had no way to know how he would react to hearing her story. She had to think of Lou and how best to protect her. Lou wouldn't fare well if her mother was ditched and left to rot in prison.

  Beth looked him in the eyes and said with as much grit as she could muster, "I have been honest with you, Grover."

  "No, Missy. You haven't." His face darkened into a frown, and his next words were spoken with all the sternness she'd heard in his tone before. "Tell me the truth about you. This is your last chance before I teach you a lesson about lying."

  She shifted her weight to one foot and looked down. "I've told you most everything important already. My name is Beth Jones. I'm a poor woman with no kin except for my daughter. My husband was killed last year, and ever since I've been struggling to make it on my own."

  About half of that was true, and she hoped it would satisfy the marshal. It didn't. Before Beth knew what was happening, she found herself stripped of the towel and lying naked across his hard thighs, positioned for a spanking. She gasped when she understood his intent.

  With one hand he held her body against his. His other hand smacked her bare bottom, her skin still soft and damp from the bath. The swat sent a resounding crack into the air, and the force of it took her breath away. She wasn't able to recover her breath before he landed another. And another. He spanked her ten times before he stopped. She panted when she was finally able to breathe.

  "What's your name again, Missy? The truth this time."

  Beth tried unsuccessfully for a few moments to find her voice. When she did, she responded breathily. "Matthews. Elizabeth Matthews. That's my married name."

  "Okay, then. Maybe we're getting somewhere." He landed ten more swats with just as much vigor.

  Beth cried out and tried to roll to one side off his lap, only to feel his grip around her waist tighten. "P-please stop. It hurts." She heard the pitiful pout in her voice.

  Her distress didn't move him. "You're getting spanked for your blarney and lies, Missy. I want it to sting. You had several chances to avoid being punished, but you ignored every last one, didn't you?"

  She whimpered in response, and he landed more swats, this time again and again on the sensitive areas where her bottom curved into her thighs.

  "Ow! Please! Please no more." she cried. She hoped after each smack and before the next that it was the last of his chastisement, but he didn't seem to be in any great hurry to settle his hand.

  He spoke while spanking her. "I'll tell you something, Missy. Listen carefully. I know this hurts, and it's supposed to, but it's just a spanking and the sting doesn't last. It's the only way I'll ever punish you. I'm the marshal of this town, but to you I'm Grover. I won't use the law against you. You're afraid of something like that, aren't you? That's why you don't wish to be honest with me?" He landed several more stinging swats before pausing to hear her response.

  She moaned with the relief. She wanted to say whatever words would prevent his hand from springing back into action. She told the truth, her words tumbling out quickly. "Yes, sir. I'm afraid of the law. And I'm afraid my husband will find me. That's why I tried to hide my baby. Word of a woman with a baby and no man gets around, and I'm afraid tell of it will reach my husband. H-he's not a nice man."

  "I see." He rubbed out some of the sting. "I can help you, you know. No woman in my town suffers a scalawag for a husband any longer than she wants to."

  Beth felt like crying, not only from the pain of the spanking, but also from the kindness in the marshal's response when she told him she was afraid.

  "Missy," he said, his voice as gentle as his swats had been hard. "Tell me why you left your husband. Tell me what he did."

  Hearing his kind voice, Beth couldn't hold back the tears. She cried and hung over his lap, wishing to free herself from the burden of her secrets, but still very afraid to do so. She felt another swat. He resumed the spanking at a steady tempo. The smacks weren't as hard as before, but they still stung.

  "Tell me," he said.

  "My husband is Nathan Matthews, the bounty hunter," she stammered. She knew he'd require no further explanation for why she left. Grover and her husband were well acquainted, and she suspected Grover hated Nathan as much as the other way around.

  Grover froze, and the room fell silent. Then she felt his left hand stiffen around her waist. Suddenly his punishing hand came down repeatedly on her bottom. He launched into a scolding lecture. "What were you thinking, marrying a man like that, Missy? You must have known his reputation."

  Beth felt surprised at the reason for the renewed spanking. She winced with every spank. "You're s-spanking me for marrying him, Grover?"

  His hand descended heavily. "You bet I am. That was a foolish move, woman. Of all the men you could have chosen, you chose Nathan Matthews? You're a sweet, pretty lady in a place where men outnumber women half a dozen to one. You could have had your pick of the best, but even most at the bottom of the barrel would have been better than Nathan."

  The smarting on her backside built to a level she previously would have thought impossible. Squirming and bucking, she tried everything to escape the barrage of swats, but his grip on her waist kept his unfortunate target in place. He landed each spank with purpose and precision. Kicking her legs and trying to flail about did nothing but make him spank her harder.

  Tears streamed down her face, and she howled as he lit the fire to her bottom with no end in sight. "I know now it was a bad choice. I'm sorry for marrying him! Please, please stop, Grover."

  To her great relief, he did. "Let me hazard a guess here, Missy. The thieving murderer didn't turn out to be such a nice husband, so you left. Now you're worried if you divorce him, he'll get custody of your daughter, since men usually do when women choose to leave."

  She only whimpered her response.

  Grover sighed. He rubbed her aching bottom. "Foolish woman. I ought to keep walloping you."

  "Please don't," she begged.

  He continued to rub. "I won't, but only if you learned your lesson. Do you promise never to marry him again?"

  Beth snorted in amusement and Grover chuckled, seeming to realize as she did that the last part of that spanking was almost as pointless as it was sincere. He caressed her tender skin until she felt like she would pass out from the pleasure his touch brought her. Feeling the ache soothed by the same hand that caused it sent desire
coursing through her body. She had never felt so raw and aroused. When he placed his hand on the back of her thigh and pulled it toward him, parting her legs, she mewled. He stroked the sensitive skin of her inner thighs and slid his fingers to the apex of her legs. He cupped her womanhood with his large, warm hand.

  A primitive growl escaped his throat, and she felt his cock harden under her stomach. "You're sopping wet, darlin'," he said, his voice low with lust. "What a naughty little girl you are. You liked getting spanked, didn't you?" He gave her pussy a light swat. "You needed to be taught a lesson over my knee."

  The little spank to her most sensitive place delivered a shot of arousal and ache. Beth felt her face flush at his words. "I didn't like the spanking, Grover. It hurt," she whimpered, feeling as helpless under his pleasuring hand as she had under his punishing one.

  His fingertips found her bundle of nerves and lingered there, brushing and circling it. "But you liked me showing I care, didn't you? That's the good thing about a spanking."

  Beth moaned. "There are more, um, pleasant ways to do that." She felt his manhood twitch under her stomach again, as if on cue volunteering to offer another way. "Please, Grover. I need to feel you inside of me," she said, her voice husky with desire.

  He needed no further encouragement. She found herself being lifted and bent over the arm of the sofa, her spanked bottom in the air. She heard him shucking off his trousers and shortly after felt his cock pressing at her entrance. He clutched her hips and moved into her a little at a time, and she gasped and threw back her head as he filled her. He began his movements slow and gentle, but soon picked up speed. He thrust in and out and landed a swat on her sore bottom.

  She yelped. "This isn't very romantic, Marshal, taking me like a bull takes a cow."

  He smacked her again. "Hush. This is how naughty girls who lie to the marshal get fucked."

  Her heartbeat quickened and her breath hitched at a particularly strong thrust. He filled her so completely, claiming with every movement that her body was his to ravage. She loved being his, if only for a short time.

  "Are there other naughty girls, Marshal, or is it just me?" she inquired saucily.

  He smacked her ass hard, once on each cheek, before fisting her hair and pulling her head back. Leaning over, he growled in her ear, "I only see one at the moment, darlin', one whose mouth I'm about to gag. Now if you please, shut the fuck up while I'm fucking you."

  His bawdy command heightened her arousal. She moaned as he pounded into her, harder and faster. Each thrust drove her mons against the arm of the sofa, sending jolts of impact to her clit. Soon the pleasure of her orgasm washed over her. She let out a low wail and arched her back. She grasped the cushions on the sofa.

  "That's it, darlin'." He wrapped an arm around her, bent down, and brought her to his chest. He held her tight during his own release, which began as hers ended. After he poured the last of his seed into her, he gave a final thrust and pulled out. He hugged her from behind, enveloping her thin body in his big arms. In a gesture that seemed especially sweet after the rigorous lovemaking, he kissed the shell of her ear and the side of her neck.

  "Thank you for that, honey. You're a surprise and delight." He rested his chin on her shoulder, tickling it with his beard.

  She breathed hard. She didn't know what to say. "You're delightful too, Marshal."

  He chuckled, kissed her neck again, and released her. He wrapped the towel around her body and pulled his trousers over his hips. He sat on the sofa and collected her into his lap, where he continued to hold her in his arms.

  "Everything's going to be okay, so far as your husband goes. You don't need to be afraid. It won't be hard for you to get a divorce and keep the baby because Nathan's reputation is already about as good as muck. Though he's never been found guilty of a crime, he won't have rights to the child if a lawman puts in a word for you. I can say a few things about him, things I've seen with my own two eyes, but haven't been able to prove to get him locked up. Still, my saying what I saw will make a judge side with you. You'll keep little Lou, darlin'. Don't fret for another minute about that."

  She sighed. Grover hugged her and rubbed her back, and Beth rested her head in the curve of his neck and shoulder. She tried to enjoy his comfort, but she found it hard to do, knowing it wouldn't last.

  She lifted her head. "How do you know Nathan?" She already knew the answer, but she wanted to hear it from Grover's perspective.

  "Years ago we rode in the same bounty-hunting posse, and he was a loose cannon every time we hunted a new criminal." Grover shook his head as he remembered. "The wanted posters say 'dead or alive' for the worst of the outlaws, but he didn't notice the alive part. He always took 'em dead. I reckon that's not the worst of it though. He got a real rouse out of watching a man suffer. He aimed his lead for the belly every time, then sat nearby and watched the man bleed to death slowly.

  "He developed a powerful hatred toward me when I ruined that for him one day. I couldn't stand how he watched with a shit-eatin' grin as men writhed on the dirt. I shot a man doing just that, shot him right in the head to put him out of his misery. That bullet blew the man's face off and cost Nathan a thousand bucks. We never got our bounty because the sheriff didn't believe we'd brought in the right criminal."

  Beth looked at her hands and said softly, "Nathan is a cruel man who loves only two things—winning and money. You robbed him of both that day."

  "Yes, I reckon that's the long and short of it. And he comes from a family of hateful thugs. I killed his brother in a shootout a few years ago. I didn't want to, but he was hell-bent on killing me to prove to his older brother that he was a fast gun. He drew first, but I drew faster. It was either me or him that was gonna die that day. I expect Nathan's itching to get revenge, and I'll be ready when he tries."

  She thought about telling Grover he was right, that she'd heard the various ways Nathan planned to kill him and make him suffer, but she decided against it. Grover already knew, so she didn't need to speak of the unpleasantness. She wanted to lighten the mood, wishing to forget about her husband for as long as possible.

  "Grover, I'd like to make us some breakfast. I'm a real good cook if I have myself a kitchen and decent vittles, not just an outdoor fire with beans and whatever herbs I spot amongst the weeds on the trail."

  He beamed at her. "A good cook, you say? You're full of nice surprises, aren't you, Missy?"

  She left his lap and walked to where her dress laid crumpled on the floor next to the tub. "You're not wearing that," he said sharply. "You just had a bath and those rags are filthy. Let me get you a clean shirt of mine. Then later we'll go get you a real frock."

  He returned from the bedroom with one of his shirts slung over his shoulder and Lou in his arms. "Your little chickabiddy was awake but not making any noise. I'll hold her while you fix breakfast if that's all right."

  Beth observed him smiling down at her daughter. He held her ever-so-gently, and Beth's eyes filled with tears. "It's more than all right. It's perfect."

  Chapter 4 - Bent Knee Proposal

  Later that morning, Grover sat at his desk with three new sets of wanted posters. He hadn't finished reviewing the posters from the previous day, so he set the new ones aside and started where he'd left off. When he felt satisfied that he'd memorized their faces, he walked to the window and tacked one of each against the glass of the front window. Later he would tack up more copies around town—at the saloon and at Henry's shop. He grimaced thinking about how he'd have to make small talk with Henry when he performed that chore. Henry would study the images closely and more than likely report seeing at least one of the men in his shop the same day. Grover would have to strain his eyes to keep them from rolling.

  He stared out the window for a bit, observing the morning passersby. Many men and fewer women walked the wooden sidewalk with purpose. He wanted Missy to be one of them, able to go about her business without fear. This was his goal. He would see to it that Nathan never hurt her or
got near her baby again.

  He didn't lie to himself about one of his motives in assisting with the divorce. He coveted Missy for himself. He was sweet on her after only a day, which would seem hasty to most people. However, Grover had always been a good judge of character and could read body language, a talent that saved him from death on more than one occasion in his gunslinger days. He knew from Missy's actions and expressions that she was a good person who had found herself in a bad situation. He could see it in the way she held her baby, the way she looked at him with hope, and even the way she hesitated before her lies. It was easier for her to be good than to be bad.

  He also knew she felt loyalty toward those who treated her kindly, such as her mother. That it took until she was half-naked and half-starved to attempt to sell her ma's silver brooch told him how deeply she should could love somebody.

  He didn't feel even a smidgen of guilt pursuing Nathan Matthew's wife. Nathan didn't deserve Missy. Grover wasn't even sure that he did. What he did feel sure about was his desire to go home every night from then on and gather her into his arms. He wanted to raise her baby as his own and have more children with her if nature saw fit. She was everything he hadn't known he'd been missing for so long.

  He shook himself out of his daydream and returned to his desk, ready to commit the next three outlaw faces to memory. "Well, well, well," he said upon examining the first of the new wanted posters. Staring back at him was none other than Nathan Matthews, wanted for bank robbery and murder. That would certainly move along the divorce. It seemed that Nathan had finally committed a crime that could be proven by the law. If all worked out, he would soon be captured, thus removing him from Missy's life for good.