A Taste of Shine

by Addison Cain

  He nodded, taking off his hat and setting it on the bar beside her. “What are you doin’ here?”

  It was obvious he didn’t approve. Sighing, she set her chin in her palm and pointedly glanced down at her half eaten dinner.

  Matthew didn’t like a damn thing about her sitting there in her pretty green sweater and tight skirt. He didn’t like the men looking her way, or that she was in a situation where she felt it was necessary to pay a bouncer to watch her back. The only thing about it he did like was how she shivered when he reached up and pulled a small, dried leaf from her hair. “Charlotte…”

  “I missed dinner at the boarding house.”

  Matthew knew better. “Charlotte…”

  Nathaniel charged forward, his arms full of crates. “Hot damn, it’s Charlie!”

  Charlie smiled at the other brother. “Evening, Nathaniel.”

  Nathaniel abandoned his burden on the bar. With a cockeyed smirk, he snatched a fried potato off her plate and teased, “Rutabagas can get a little wild. Don’t really know if this is the best place for you. Or are you lookin’ to deck some more drunks?”

  “Why? You looking to get decked?” she quipped, flexing her still bruised knuckles for effect. “Besides, I’ve been in every kind of bar from east coast to west. This place ain’t so bad.” Charlie lifted her glass in salute, red lips curved. “And they serve Emerson’s finest.”

  Setting coins on the counter to cover her tab, Matthew offered an outright challenge when she quirked a brow. “Come on, Charlotte. We’ll see you home.”

  She didn’t put up a fuss like he expected, saving Matthew the trouble of carrying her out over his shoulder. But her compliance didn’t stop him from resting his hand on her lower back, a very public act of possession in front of the farmers and local men who favored the raucous establishment. The attention didn’t stop outside, Matthew put her in her car’s passenger seat and took the wheel, leaving Nathaniel and Eli to follow in the truck. When they pulled up to the boarding house, he got out of Charlie’s old car and walked her to the door, following her inside.

  The hour was late, and thankfully, Mrs. Fontanne had gone to bed; otherwise there would have been no end of problems if she’d seen a man with her guest.

  “Matthew,” she whispered, cautious eyes scouting the foyer. “You’re gonna get me in trouble.”

  “There won’t be no trouble, ‘cause you’re movin’ into the roadhouse. Ain’t no need for you to pussyfoot around here and spend your nights eatin’ at rowdy honky-tonks just to avoid breakin’ bread with that woman.”

  “What if you don’t like having me there?” Those sapphire eyes got so wide. “I’m awfully independent and I won’t be changing my comings and goings. And I ain’t hiding upstairs!”

  There was no longer going to be a question. Matthew knew exactly how to get a response. Work roughened fingers threaded into the waves at her nape. He leaned down, skimming his lips over her ear. “You’re coming to live with me, Charlotte. Pack up and get ready to go.”

  Her voice held no confidence. In fact, she sounded broken. “You sure?”

  “Weather’s turning bad… snow’s comin’.” There was uncustomary playfulness in Matthew’s tone. “I gotta think of Mrs. Fontanne’s welfare. Don’t want to trap her indoors with a spitfire like you.”

  Charlie giggled and Matthew took her mouth slow, deep and greedy with promise. By the time he let her go, she was nothing but a dumbstruck puddle.

  An hour later, Charlie was fast asleep in his bed, Matthew lying alone on the landing supine atop an old cot. He knew that he’d been a bit underhanded, not having mentioned that Eli had slept in the hall when he pressed her to use his room, but he didn’t care. The golden girl was right where he wanted her, and by God, he was going to keep her there.

  Chapter 16

  Just as she’d said she would, Charlie flitted in and out of the grill—coming and going as she pleased. If Matthew had an issue with her independence, he’d not spoken a word, especially since she showed up for every supper smiling and happy to see him.

  Her only complaint had been finding him sleeping on a cot poorly hidden behind a screen in the hall. With pure fire she’d demanding they trade places. Bodily shoving her back in his room, he’d shut the door.

  After all, it was his house and he could sleep where he wanted.

  Most evenings had shown some form of business: men stockpiling before the snows came to make moving moonshine difficult. Charlie had taken to their routine right away—watching the types the Emersons dealt with, gauging who was trouble while she rocked in a chair by the fire, her rifle hidden nearby.

  Not ten nights in, Charlie sat thumbing through a magazine, Matthew negotiating with some rugged country boys. It didn’t take a genius to see things were going to get messy. Low voiced argument turned into rabid shouts when a full jar of shine smashed against Matthew’s skull.

  Glass and liquor flying, all hell broke out.

  Five on three—Matthew swinging a hook that could take a man’s head off. Nathaniel roaring beside him. Even Eli was doing pretty well. But not well enough.

  Charlie left the comfort of her chair. It was effortless; raising the butt of her rifle, Charlie knocked the skulls of two brawlers. Once the score was even, she went right back to her reading, and let the men finish the fight.

  Less than five minutes later, the Emersons stood victorious. The only casualty, one innocent jar of liquor.

  After the fools were dragged out into the cold, Matthew stomped over to where Charlie sat. She licked her fingertip and turned the page, singsonging, “You’re welcome.”

  The sound he made was extremely exasperated.

  Disinterested in arguing, she left the men to clean up the mess, enjoying a soak in the tub upstairs.

  Certain he would be in a mood, she left Matthew the hot water and by the look of his damp hair when he knocked later, he had followed her unspoken suggestion and calmed down considerably.

  That didn’t mean he wasn’t still sulky.

  A nasty bruise was forming where the jar had caught him upside the head.

  Turning his chin, Charlie softly asked, “Are you all right?”

  When he just kept staring, she paused, unsure if it was Matthew’s silent reprimand or if he was waiting for something else.

  “Come on in.” She pulled the door wide. “Take a seat on the bed.”

  Once he was settled, she offered two aspirin and a glass of water from the bureau. Moving between his spread thighs, gingerly combing her fingers through the cropped hair near his lump, she fussed over the man. The way he glowered… Matthew behaved like a puppy unsure if it wanted to bite or just be loved on. But her fingers kept soothing until he took a deep breath and his shoulders slumped.

  “The one I knocked out near Eli was reaching for a blade in his back pocket. The other one I clocked just to even the odds,” Charlie explained, knowing why he had come to her. “I know you didn’t need my help, but Eli doesn’t know how to fight properly for someone his size, and unless you aim to teach him…” She let the silence speak for her.

  From his troubled gaze, Matthew had not seen the knife. And though Eli was enthusiastic, Charlotte was right, he was not a hand-to-hand brawler.

  Seeing she had gotten through his thick, bruised skull, Charlie leaned forward and gingerly pressed her lips under the swelling on his temple.

  Rigid, he watched her take the glass from his hand and set it on the bureau. The mattress dipped behind him, Charlie’s warm palms working to knead the tension in his neck. Never having been touched in such a way, Matthew closed his eyes and hung his head.

  When he was just about a puddle, she shifted away. Looking over his shoulder, he found Charlie staring, her color up and her pupils large.

  Moistening her lips, she said, “Perhaps you’d better get to bed now.”

  He had no words. Matthew stood and offered a nod of appreciation, leaving like she told him to.

  * * *

  Back
on his cot, he lay in darkness replaying the unknowing hungry look she’d leveled at him, the way her breath had been coming fast and shallow from swollen lips. The very idea Charlotte had become so aroused just touching him made his cock jump in his stroking fist. With his mind full of pretty eyes shining in confusion and a pink tongue darting over her scar, his hand moved faster. Groan muffled behind clenched teeth, he came. Hard.

  A whoosh of breath left his chest, thoughts still centered on the woman sleeping on the other side of the wall. When he heard the latch of her door softly lift and the sound of bare feet padding quietly down the stairs, he tied up his drawstring pajamas and moved without thought to see to her.

  Silent, knowing where to step on the stairs so as not to make a sound, he watched from the shadows as his golden girl rested against the bar, bare of her dressing robe and leaning forward just enough the silk of her blue nightgown emphasized each dip and curve.

  She seemed agitated, sipping a fresh glass of water, fluttering the front of her nightgown against her bosom. Matthew, eyes smoldering, thanked God he’d satiated his need before seeing her in such a state. Had he been as rock hard as before, he would have shoved her down right there on the floor and shown her just how fucking much he ached for her.

  Moving towards the small pool of moonlight, he saw her startle and blush.

  God, she was perfect.

  “Matthew.” As if painfully aware she was practically naked, Charlie began to scamper away. “I just came down to get something I needed.”

  He moved closer, cutting off her escape as he prowled closer. Voice rich with want, he asked, “Did you find what you needed?”

  It was written all over her: the flushed cheeks, the swollen lips—the way her eyes darted over his body before settling on his mouth. He could practically smell her arousal.

  Barely managing a frustrated whisper, she admitted, “I don’t… rightly know.”

  Trapped with the bar at her back and the red-blooded man corralling her in, Charlie visibly swallowed. Big, callused hands came to her waist and lifted her to perch at the edge of the counter. Nose went to her throat, Matthew’s mouth skimming up the ivory column until stopping at her ear.

  A rumble of noise, a deep sultry purr, promised, “I know what you need, Charlotte.”

  Distracted by the way his mouth moved against her flesh, his golden girl failed to notice the palm skimming up her thigh, or that her legs had parted indecently around his torso. Aware she might bolt, he placed his arm around her, before eager fingertips slipped beneath the pretty blue silk.

  A confused, hungry cry, and Charlie wilted.

  He hushed her once, felt her trembling something awful, and moved to stroke her sweet little pussy. One swipe, and Matthew found her drenched, swollen, and ready for him. Groaning approval, all it took was one simple pass over her pert clit before she moaned, wide-eyed and breathless.

  Steady gaze boring straight into hers, Matthew watching as he touched—reading how she needed to be stroked by her little pants and mewls.

  Slipping one finger into her saturated heat, he began to twist his fist around. His golden girl just about lost it, rolling her head back and bracing her body against the counter. He pumped against spongy flesh at the roof of her passage, his thumb running tight circles over her little pearl, growling in appreciation at the feel of her.

  It began.

  Charlie clutched the side of the bar until her knuckles shone white, squirming to escape those wonderful fingers, yet ultimately working her hips to invite him deeper. A tangled, confused feeling built up, tensing, her insides clenching like an overwound coil.

  Through it all, Matthew held her steady, mercilessly fostering what made her breath hitch and mouth gape. Lips went back to her neck, biting and kissing, he upped the tempo and felt her hips roll wildly against his hand. When his mouth closed over the silk covered tip of her breast, her whole body lurched. She bucked, crying out.

  The female flesh around his fingers squeezing tight.

  Matthew didn’t ease up a bit. Continuing to twist his hand at her pussy, to pluck her nipple with his teeth, he gave her all she needed and more.

  Not until her body was limp, his golden girl whimpering for reprieve, sagging beautifully against his body, did he consider stopping.

  Chapter 17

  Stretching, Charlie gave a sleepy groan and listened to the men shuffling around downstairs. A wicked smile curved her lips, her cheeks flamed in remembrance of Matthew’s fingers. She’d had no idea such a sensation existed, could hardly believe she had lived her whole life completely unaware of something so… explosive.

  Sure, she’d lurked in whorehouses, seen men and women in the throes of passion. Prostitutes made noise all right, but Charlie knew it was just to please the customer. Recognized the bored look in their eyes when they offered their bodies, she’d figured they took little pleasure in it. But Matthew, he had set her ablaze. Every gasp and moan had come unbidden, uncontrolled. She’d been a true wanton. Charlie could still feel the lingering suck of his mouth on her breast, see the way his burning eyes urged while thick fingers wriggled inside her. And above all, the arrogant look on his face when he pulled those torturous fingers from her body… to suck clean.

  He’d not said a word after; simply scooped up her listless body and carried her back to his bed.

  And she had slept beautifully.

  Wanting to impress Matthew, she pulled on her best dress, took time styling her hair and applied a touch of cosmetics.

  By the time she made her way downstairs, Charlie found Eli at the grill, disappointed he wasn’t the Emerson she was hoping for.

  “Good morning, Miss Charlie.” Eli, decorated with a badly swollen eye, offered as enthusiastic a grin as he could muster. “Don’t you look pretty. Sleepin’ in late seems to agree with you.”

  “Awww, shucks.”

  “After all the excitement last night, a good long rest must have been what the doctor ordered.” Setting down a hot plate of breakfast, Eli added, “Glad to see you got what you needed.”

  The giggle came out before she could stop herself. An actual hand-to-God giggle. What the hell?

  He didn’t seem to catch on. “You gonna visit Ruth today?”

  “Sure am.”

  * * *

  Watching the chit chat from his cracked office door, Matthew was glad to see her smiling so easily. He wanted to go out there and say good morning, and would the second his painfully erect cock stopped filling his head with memories of the perfect expression on Charlotte’s face when she climaxed around his fingers.

  Any minute now…

  But, caught up in lurid thoughts, he missed his chance to say hello. Charlie had made quick work of her meal and bolted out the door. Returning to his desk, he took a sip of coffee and couldn’t help but think it was not nearly as nice as the tangy sweetness he’d licked from his fingers when he’d pulled them from that sweet, little pussy.

  “You need something, Matthew?” Eli stuck his head in the office door. “You’re making a lot of racket over those ledgers?”

  Clearing his throat, Matthew was infinitely grateful the desk shielded the tent in his trousers. “No, Eli. Just wash the damn dishes… I can hear ‘em piling up in the sink.”

  * * *

  “Okay. Now line up the sight with the target, and when you feel good and ready, pull the trigger.”

  A boom, followed by a triumphant feminine squeal filled the air. “I hit it!”

  Impressed, Charlie matched Ruth’s infectious smile with one of her own. “You’re a natural.”

  For weeks, Ruth had begged to hunt like the menfolk. Over and over Charlie had said no, but the girl had a knack for wheedling and eventually… well… Charlie caved.

  Now, hunting was out of the question, but Charlie settled on a secluded spot in a snow dusted copse where she might teach Ruth to fire a pistol instead.

  “If my daddy saw me right about now, I think he’d keel over.” Ruth squinted one eye shut and
sighted her next tin can target, squeezing the trigger and hitting the stump just below it.

  “Not until he beat me good and destroyed my fine reputation,” Charlie drawled, gently correcting Ruth’s line of sight.

  “Your reputation ain’t all that good, especially now that you’ve started livin’ at Devil’s Hollow.” The impish smile on Ruth’s lips, the wicked glitter in her eye… she knew what was going on. “Whole town is certain Matthew is head over heels. You wouldn’t believe the stories bantered about.”

  Charlie muttered, “Try me.”

  “Three weeks back Mary Fletcher saw him standing outside the general store gawking at the boarding house for almost twenty minutes. Hear tell, he turned beet red at getting caught. He flat out ran off when Mary asked if he was gonna buy anything.” Biting her lower lip, looking positively devilish, Ruth asked, “He kissed you yet?”

  Boy had he. “Your mind is in the gutter, Miss Cormac.”

  The mischief continued. “He is awful handsome… The strong, silent type.”

  Charlie cleared her throat, gesturing towards the remaining tin cans. “We here to squawk or shoot things?”

  Ruth aimed, fired, and hit the target before answering, “Both.”

  “What about Eli?” Charlie was more than happy to turn the tables. “He kissed you yet?”

  “Oh, he lays one on me just about any chance he can get. Been real gentlemanly though.” Her voice grew a little wistful, “Brings me flowers and courts me proper.”

  “And I get the sense your daddy is warming up to him.”

  Big kitten eyes rolled in their sockets. “The fact you keep telling tales and singing his praises doesn’t hurt.”

  Charlie giggled. She had been working on the lawman, buttering him up good about the fine traits of Eli Emmerson. “The Emersons have been good to me. It’s the least I can do.”

  “Well, let’s hope they don’t do anything tonight that might sway his view.”