Gem Sivad A Staged Affair [pdf]

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A STAGED AFFAIR





Gem Sivad






EROTIC ROMANCE


Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Erotic Romance

A STAGED AFFAIR
Copyright © 2010 by Gem Sivad
E-book ISBN: 1-60601-745-4

First E-book Publication: February 2010

Cover design by Amanda Kelsey
All cover art and logo copyright © 2010 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or
transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic
reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual
persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.


PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com

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Letter to Readers

Dear Readers,

If you have purchased this copy of A Staged Affair directly from the
BookStrand.com website, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing
a copy of this book.

Regarding E-book Piracy

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The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying
readers high-quality reading entertainment. Please respect Gem
Sivad’s right to earn a living from her work. It's fair and simple. If
Ms. Sivad can provide for her family with her writing, she can create
more books for your reading pleasure.

Sincerely,

Amanda Hilton, Publisher
www.SirenPublishing.com
www.BookStrand.com


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A STAGED AFFAIR

GEM SIVAD

Copyright © 2010





Chapter One

Texas, 1887


“This is a mistake, Anna. You have other things to do and no time

for goodbyes. Besides, if you see him, he’ll probably keep you locked
up for a couple of days just because he can.”

Thomas Cantrell, the stage manager of the Travelers theatrical

troupe, looked nervously around and then at the closed bedroom door.
He accompanied Anna to the suite of rooms to help her with her
trunks.

Anna hid her smile at his fear. Evidently, Tommy expected Hank

Colton, better known to his friends and enemies alike as King Colton,
to come bursting out of hiding. “Be calm, Thomas, it’s not like he’s
been sitting in the bedroom waiting since I left him.”

“Mercy, Anna. King Colton could come walking through that

door any moment now. When that happens, you’re on your own. I
hope I get out of this with my skin whole.”

Anna shook her head, her dramatic sigh only half theatrical

exaggeration. “I know, Tommy, but I’ll never see him after today. I
have to at least have a memento to take along. Someday I’ll have to
tell my little angel about her father.” Her tone changed from sweet to
bitter. “I want that picture he gave me four years ago so that our
daughter will know what her deceased papa looks like.”

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A Staged Affair

7

In her pocket, Anna’s fingers curled around the tintype she

pretended to need. She carried it every day she’d been gone from her
lover.

Tommy shrugged. “Knock it off on calling Colton deceased until

you begin your new role and are well away from Sparrow Creek. In
this town, those are fighting words.”

They both knew that getting into Anna’s suite of rooms and

getting back out without King Colton hearing word of her presence in
town was close to impossible. With all the spies the rich rancher had
on the lookout for his former mistress, he was probably already on his
way in from his ranch, King’s Hold.

At least, Anna hoped so. She dawdled over her packing,

prolonging her stay in the suite as long as she could.

“I’m warning you, if you really intend to leave him, find what

you’re looking for and get out of here fast. You’d better be ready to
catch that stage without your usual display of Shakespearean drama.
For once, play it safe.”

“I’ll be quick, Tommy, in and out, don’t you worry. I’ll pack my

trunks and take my things. He has no right to keep them, and God
knows I’ll need them to cheer me up in the dreary, dull place I’m
moving.” She thought of the lovely cottage she purchased using her
lover’s money and frowned. It had everything she could want but one
thing—King Colton.

“Sure, Anna, we know it’s tough for you. ‘He is a beast unworthy

of your grace.’” Tommy glanced at the room’s opulence. “Remember
what Hamlet said, ‘Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind.’”

“King wasn’t unkind—unless ignoring me can be counted as

unkindness. Our final days together were spent in silence.” Her gaze
played slowly over the elegant suite where she had been alone more
than she cared to remember. “It is true that he has always been
generous, and in his way, a true gentleman.”

At Tommy’s inelegant snort, she added solemnly. “He always

treated me with respect.”

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Tommy looked at her speculatively. “Then why leave him? It’s

clear that you’re in love with the guy. He’s good to you and generous
to your friends.” The last was accompanied by a grin acknowledging
the benefits he reaped from Anna’s affair.

But they both knew she wouldn’t do that either. She was in love

with the ruthless rancher who swept her off her feet and into his bed
four years before. Not once in that time had he ever proposed or
offered more than the fancy room she stayed in and the expensive
gifts he brought each time he called.

“‘They do not love that do not show their love’.” Anna quoted

Shakespeare’s sentiment. “I have more than myself to worry about
now, Tommy. Hank Colton is but one man among many.” Her airy
reassurance didn’t fool either of them. “I have a daughter to consider
and the arrangement he offers is no longer enough.”

It had been good enough for her. Anna had never expected more.

But, it was not good enough for her daughter, and definitely not the
life that King Colton’s child deserved. “My baby will not be known as
the bastard child of a rich man.”

It had been the most difficult decision of her life, but looking

around the suite one last time, reminded her that her lavish apartment,
like their affair, was paid for in monthly installments. That he had
kept their suite ready for her return, gave her hope.

Still, all things considered, she didn’t think she’d made the wrong
decision when six months before, she gathered a few clothes while he
was in Abilene and simply disappeared. It had been a furtive leaving
that filled her with sorrow.

When she allowed thoughts of him to intrude, she was

overwhelmed by grief at her loss as well as a conviction that King
Colton would be just as lost without her. She looked around at her
gilded cage and shook her head sadly. It hadn’t been enough.

After they dragged her trunks from storage, Tommy smiled and

finished her earlier quote before leaving. “‘The course of true love
never did run smooth.’”

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A Staged Affair

9

The door clicked softly closed, ignored by Anna

as she watched

the street below through the floor-to-ceiling window installed by King
himself.

She cupped her breasts, remembering King that day. He stood

behind her, his hands kneading her flesh and twirling her nipples, as
they looked through the expensive glass. “Anna girl, I want you to be
able to see me when I ride into town and be thinking about what
we’re gonna do.”

Moments after she was alone, as though called by her memories,

her former lover galloped into town on the black thoroughbred
stallion he took such pride in.

Her sex clenched nervously, as she drank in the sight of him. He

tossed the reins and some coins to a man loitering on the board
sidewalk and walked with purpose toward the Silver Dollar Hotel.

Hank looked up at the window where she watched as though

sensing her stare and his expression gave her a quick preview of his
rage.

Anna didn’t even turn when the door slammed open and then shut.

The click of the lock left her in no doubt about who entered. She
could lie to Tommy but not herself. Her soul reached toward King
Colton yearningly.

“Where the hell have you been?” Hank Colton strode through the

sitting room, anger and arrogance displayed simultaneously. And
then, without a “Howdy, how have you been”? or “Why did you go?”,
he lifted her from the floor and carried her straight toward the
bedroom.

When he passed the open trunk and her half-finished packing, he

went still for a moment, shock written on his face. Grimly silent, he
carried her from the sitting area of the lavish suite into the equally
sumptuous bedroom.

She had time to notice he’d not changed a thing, not even moving

her robe left on a chair. She relished the strength of his arms even as
she struggled to free herself from his overbearing treatment.

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“Put me down, you jackass. I’ve come to get the rest of my

things.” She might as well have spoken to the wallpaper, which was
hand-painted silk and imported from France. “King, we are not doing
this. We are not…”

She sailed through the air and landed on her rear, bouncing in the

middle of the fancy bed Hank had ordered built just for them. “Very
brave of you accosting an innocent woman, unprotected and alone,”
she hissed at him.

“Show me an innocent woman and I’ll apologize,” he growled at

her as at the same time he sat on the edge of the bed, grabbed her, and
slung her over his knee. In two seconds, her skirts were around her
waist as he ripped through her delicate silk underwear to reach bare
skin.

Before she could mouth insincere words, he caressed her bottom,

running his callused hand over her skin.

God, I’ve missed this.
Just the press of his hard flesh against her rear had her moaning

and reaching for an orgasm. She savored the moment and then he
started the resounding smacks that filled the room and heated each
cheek of her rump. Her halfhearted protest didn’t fool either of them.

“Let me up, you savage.” Anna kicked at him as she expertly

succeeded in losing her shoes and splaying her legs further apart.

“I’ll show you savage.” Whack! His spankings in the past had

turned her insides to molten syrup. Excitement and desire pulsed
through her each time his rough hand made contact with the flesh of
her buttocks.

Anna closed her eyes and delighted in the pleasure he gave her.

Each time Hank’s palm caressed her bottom in the pseudo punishment
that they both loved, ecstasy not pain called forth a groan of need.

His brutal strength handled her so skillfully he made her body

tremble in response. There was no sense in pretending she didn’t want
his touch. Anna enjoyed each exquisite stroke that was more reward
than reprimand. The hurt in his contact, demanded submission and her

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A Staged Affair

11

pussy flexed with each sharp sting. As always, Anna knew his goal
was domination. This time, so was hers. Their wills clashed and the
lust of battle filled her senses, making wet heat pool between her legs.

“Like that don’t you, sweetheart?” He thumbed the liquid that

trickled on her thighs, and then spread her pussy lips wide, exposing
her clit to his knee.

Oh, God, I need this man so much. Her internal lament was both

desperate and sad. The passion he called from her was mixed with
sorrow, as Anna grieved for moments that would never be.

“King, please,” she begged, but they both knew it wasn’t release

from his hold she begged for. Four years of exquisite loving made
them so familiar with each other’s needs that words were unnecessary
between them.

“Please what, baby?” He brought his hand down on the right

cheek. Whack! Anna felt the spill of her cream trickling steadily onto
her thighs. King rubbed his knee against her clit, pressing roughly.
“Tell me what I want to know. You owe me an explanation. Then
we’ll sort this thing out.”

Hah. That was a joke. I owe him an explanation.
Her temper soared at the same time raw lust commanded her

senses. She wanted to pummel him with her fists, but first she had to
assuage the savage tension in her body that coiled tightly, demanding
release.

Her pleas to be unhanded changed to a different request. “Stop

teasing and make love to me. Please, King, I need you.” This is
strategy, not capitulation,
Anna assured herself. She would be able to
control her lover once his rough passion was sated.

“I like the sound of that, sweetheart.” He caressed her bottom,

soothing the hot flesh of her rump.

Hank’s voice raked across her senses, his gravelly tone proof to

her ears that he was already heavily aroused. Dangled precariously
over his knee, Anna enjoyed visual evidence as well. Turning her

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head, she gauged the impressive bulge in his denims and licked her
lips. .

Then she whispered, “I missed you Hank. I want to show you how

much.” Her words brought a harder slap to her bottom, delivering real
pain that punished and got her attention.

“Beg me a little more, and maybe I’ll put a smile on those lying

lips of yours.” His promise was stern and filled with righteous anger.
But it was an anger that held no threat to her. Of one thing she was
sure. King Colton would never intentionally harm her. She shivered,
happy to be draped over his knee suffering such bliss.

Even as he threatened to withhold pleasure, he pushed his hand

between her splayed thighs and teased her flesh, rubbing his fingers in
the flood of liquid collecting there. She turned her head in time to see
him taste her essence.

His next gruff warning promised ecstasy not agony. “I’m going to

suck your pussy till you tell me where you were.”

Dear God, let me withstand this siege. Anna smiled in

anticipation as he spread her thighs and leaned closer, inhaling her
musky scent.

Two fingers rubbed up and down and then slid into her entrance.

Her muscles tightened around them, contracting with a squeeze that
invited more. There was no point in resisting or arguing. They both
wanted and needed this moment. She squirmed in his hands, trying to
take more of the teasing touch.

He laughed at her, albeit a choked sound that demonstrated the

tenuous hold he had on his own desire. But he stayed true to his word
and withheld the relief she craved. Slowly, stroking his fingers in and
out of her channel, he teased her until liquid heat spilled steadily from
her flowing pussy

“Tell me,” he coaxed, no longer demanding but begging to give

her more.

“What difference does it make?” Anna gasped as he moved her

from his knee and laid her face down on the bed. When she tried to

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A Staged Affair

13

roll over to face him, he smacked her bottom again and straddled her
body, pressing his knee on the middle of her back to hold her in place.

Two quick flicks of his knife and her dress and chemise fell open.

The breeze from the ceiling fan, imported and installed at her request,
feathered across skin already sensitized by passion and rage. His
fingers slid in a rough caress down her back, counting the knobs of
her spine to the point where her rump began.

Anna could feel the ridge of Hank’s arousal pressed tightly

against the flare of her hips as he sat astride her. Lust for what he
withheld made her frantic. “You’re a fool if you think you can make
me tell this way.” She bucked under him, trying to knock him off, at
the same time she insulted him, twisting her head to look over her
shoulder and glare. When her struggles didn’t budge him, she
collapsed. “Do me.” Anger, passion, lust, and love combined to make
her voice a husky plea instead of the cold command she intended.

He leaned close. Nuzzling the spot on her neck he knew made her

wild then nipped the sensitive area, sending a jolt of heat to her pussy.
Evidently satisfied that his dominance was established, he sat back
and continued his interrogation.

“Where did you go and who did you go with?” King was all

business as he questioned her gruffly at the same time he slid his
hands beneath the remnants of her dress to squeeze her breasts. She
squirmed, rubbing distended nipples against cloth and arching to
make room for more of his attentions.

“You are not my boss,” she sassed desperately, “and where I go is

none of your business.” Her declaration of independence fell short
when he grasped her nipple and pinched it, reducing her words to a
whimpered pant.

“Wrong answer,” he chided her and with his other hand stroked

the folds of her pussy, rubbing his thumb up and down her cleft,
teasing and tormenting her into shudders of excited need.

When he scooped up the stream of liquid heat and dragged it back

to her anus, she groaned. “Don’t you dare.”

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But her actions contradicted her words as she raised her hips and

spread her thighs farther for him. In her four years as King Colton’s
mistress, Anna learned all of the pleasures of the flesh and embraced
them wholly. The opening of the nightstand drawer confirmed his
intent.

“Tell me.” His demand was accompanied by the slap of his thick

cock against her back as he released himself from his pants. He used
their special oil to prepare her back passage and she strained to take
more of the finger he teased her with, shuddering at the exquisite
assault.

She tried to turn her head to watch when his prick shifted against

her but he pressed her into the mattress, constraining her movements.
When he finger-fucked her nether hole, Anna moaned and clenched
her sensitive flesh, using her body to ask for more.

“Tell me,” he repeated, pumping deeper and then rotating the digit

to massage the tender walls and tease her with not quite enough. .
“Please, King. Please give it to me now.” Anna was beyond shame.
She strained upward. Her muscles squeezed and savored the pleasure
he tendered. But, even as King stoked the fires of her passion he
refused to give her relief.

He scooted her backwards until she was splayed and open, legs

dangling over the edge of the bed. When he withdrew his finger to
replace it with his engorged flesh, the interrogation was forgotten.

Anna caught her breath as he nudged the head of his stiff cock

against her opening and then with a groan, he sank through her
clenching passage to take her from behind.

Hank entered her in a slow burning invasion that made her gasp

and reach for more. She ached for him to touch her clit and slide two
fingers in her pussy.

“I know what you want, sweet Anna. Let me give it to you girl.”

His breath fanned across her neck as he whispered promises of glory
in return for her surrender.

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15

Anna remained silent, rather than give into his calculated

seduction until he said, “I’ll make you forget whoever you ran off
with.”

“A pox on you,” she panted her curse, straining to take more of

him. “You don’t know anything at all about where I went, who I went
with, or what I want.”

“I know you want to come, baby, and I know I’m not going to let

you until you tell me what I want to hear.” He brushed his lips against
the perspiration on her neck, tasting her.

When she clamped her lips shut and refused to speak, he sat up,

thrusting into her, stretching the thin walls of her anus as he rode her
for his own enjoyment but denied her the same.

His sweat splashed onto her back, testimony to his labor of lust, as

she strained to brush her swollen clit against the sensuous silk of the
bedspread. But Hank Colton knew her plan and shifted her so it was
impossible.

He sank so deep his groin hairs brushed her splayed cheeks, and

she shuddered under the assault as he paused long enough to pull his
shirt off. Then, he lay flat against her, his chest hair tickling her back,
and whispered in her ear, “Tell me.”

Anna wanted to cry. Where was the declaration that he couldn’t

live without her? It was too much to hope that King Colton could
admit fear of losing her. He gave her none of that. Not even an, I
missed you. And, definitely no
, I love you. As usual, King showed her
nothing but the arrogance of his possession, expressing only the
sentiment that he owned her.

When she stubbornly remained mute, he leaned up, put his hands

on her shoulders to hold her in place, and silently thrust in and out of
her, withdrawing slowly each time till only the tip remained inside.
He paused there, teasing her senses till she screamed incoherent need.
Hank displayed his stubborn tendencies when he waited for Anna to
answer. She at least didn’t give him that satisfaction. So, he continued

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his selfish fuck, filling her with his cock again and again until he
grabbed his release with a shout.

“Mine,” he proclaimed to her as he pumped in and out. “This is

my ass. Remember that. Mine. This ass belongs to King Hank
Colton.”

Anna could feel the pulse of his hot cum splashing inside of her,

and it was almost enough to deliver her own relief, but not quite. He
slumped over her, pinning her beneath his sated form, refusing to
allow the slightest shift that might bring her to climax.

Anna fumed under him. She wasn’t sated. Her pussy was on fire,

her clit begging for his attention. While he breathed sonorously in her
ear, testimony to his own pleasure, he held her still, completely
immobilized under his weight until he came back to himself. The first
thing the beast grunted, “Tell me where you went and who you went
with, and I might let you have a little more.”

Not because of his arrogant offer but because she truly loved him,

Anna almost capitulated. But he had to add, “You know who you
belong to, baby. You’re my exclusive property, and don’t forget it
again.”

“And you are a horse’s ass, so don’t forget that again.” She

changed the message to fit the flash of anger his claim brought forth.
Not once in four years had Hank Colton ever given her an audible
sign he loved her. Now, he wanted to own her. “You are sadly
mistaken, King, if you think you own any part of me.”

“You’re wrong,” he said smugly, nudging her neck with his chin

before he planted a kiss on the crease between shoulder and nape. “I
say you’re mine. That makes it so.”

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17





Chapter Two


Christ on a crutch
, he’d been waiting for six months to hear from

the woman he loved more than he loved his Hereford Cattle. He knew
she must be dead because it was impossible for him to believe she’d
run off.

And then he’d be damned if word didn’t come from Sparrow

Creek that Anna was back. Hank untied the steer he was getting ready
to brand, sent it on its wobbly-legged way, and climbed on his horse
to make his fastest time ever getting to town.

When he first walked into the room, as soon as he smelled her

scent—that fancy French stuff he imported for her—his fucking cock
got hard, pointing at her like a wolf after a spring calf.

He tried to think reasonably, but at the sight of her trunks spilling

clothes every which way, he went a little crazy.

“You’re my fucking woman,” he growled.
His body took charge of everything after that shock, and he had

her across his knee and palming her rump before he could get her
undressed and under him.

Hank Colton had six months—one hundred and eighty-four days,

to be exact—to pace, hunt the countryside, and stoop to hiring a
Pinkerton. He’d been sick with worry, desolate with grief that ate his
guts inside, and now she came sneaking back into town and back to
the home he provided for her like she’d been on a holiday

The woman had no shame or remorse. She hadn’t quit slinging

insults even as he spanked her resoundingly and savored the feel of
her silken skin beneath his hand. Now she defied his claim on her.

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“Tell me where you were and who you were with. I’m plannin’ on
killing the son of a bitch as soon as I have a name.”

“Maybe I ran off and got married. What do you think of that?” For

someone who just had her skirts up and her ass spanked, she sure had
a mouth on her. Hank’s lip twitched in a smile of admiration until the
rest of her words registered in his brain.

“Then you’ll be a widow by dark,” he promised her and meant

every word. Ran off and got married. “By God, I put my brand on this
fine ass, and you sure as hell will not act like you can come and go
like an unclaimed woman.”

But did she back down on that? Hell no!
“And when was that? I don’t recall any questions and answers

between us. Did you ask something I didn’t hear? Speak to one of
your cows and mistake it for me? Whisper it in the ear of one of those
ladies’ slippers you sipped champagne from in Austin?”

King didn’t remember when he claimed her, but it was a long time

ago. “You’re my goddamned woman, and every man in Texas knows
it.” And then the full import of her words sank home, and he said,
“What the hell are you talking about? The only slipper I drink from is
yours,” he growled and then added, “and by God, how do you repay
that faithful attention? You run off with a sidewinder that’s up and
left you, and now you think to come back here.”

Since she was never getting out of his sight again, it was an empty

harangue. She was back, and his heart was full to bursting. His cock
was too, and the only thing that was bigger than either of those was
his pissed off, fierce burning, need to know. “Where the hell did you
go?”

Boldly, he eased a finger into her nether hole, satisfied that it

already flexed invitingly. He curled his touch upward finding the spot
inside that never failed to unleash her fire. It made him wild, too, and
he took his time fucking her ass, giving himself pleasure as he taunted
her and denied her the same.

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19

His inquisition ended when her internal muscles clasped his cock,

milked its length, and he came so hard that it knocked him out for a
minute. When he revived enough to listen, the vixen was still slinging
insults, at the same time her body rubbed his, begging for more of
what he’d just started.

Anna was both a generous and greedy lover. He planned to use his

knowledge of her body’s needs to bring her to begging submission.
He ought to know what they were. Until six months before, every
spare moment had been spent between her silken thighs mastering
each one of her wicked desires.

“King Colton, you’re a selfish bastard,” Not content to oppose his

will, she bucked upward, trying to get more leverage to rub her
engorged pearl and grab relief. He cupped her mound and slid his
finger into her sheath. She was hot for it and her muscles clamped
tightly around his digit, flexing. Anna thrust against his finger at the
same time she ground her clit against his palm. He almost smiled.
“Oh, no cheating, baby, come on, tell me where you were.”

Their war for control had been fought many times on a battlefield

made of silk sheets and soft pillows. In the past, both came away from
the battle satisfied. Only this time, he was furious, and the war was a
full-fledged fight for possession.

Anna relaxed in his arms, and he grunted in satisfaction.
It didn’t take me long to make her beg. His thought was smug and

anticipation surged as his cock grew stiff, needing to be in her again.
He flipped her onto her back and deliberately stood, dropping his
pants to flaunt his waving shaft. She licked her lips and lowered her
hand to tease her wet folds.

“Don’t touch yourself, Anna.”
She flicked him a look of disgust and blatantly tilted upward, her

fingers caressing her pussy. Eyes clouded by passion watched him as
she pleasured herself. Hank couldn’t look away from the cream-slick
fingers of his woman. He’d taught her just which caress and stroke
would end her torment.

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She arched her back and lifted her hips, undulating beneath the

plunging rhythm that brought her closer and closer to orgasm. Her
skin flushed as her climax took her, and for a moment she closed her
eyes, excluding him from her moment of bliss. Hank turned his back,
regretting he’d not been part of that, and walked to the washstand to
slowly pour water from pitcher to bowl.

Hell, I’m randy as a bull.
He flaunted his work-hardened body, knowing she liked looking

at his ass. She told him so often enough.

Hank turned so she could watch him soap his cock, pumping its

hard length slowly with the washcloth, sliding the rough material
against his flesh until it throbbed and threatened to spill again.

So she needs some more loving. The rhythm of Hank’s fisted

hand matched Anna’s fingers, and the lovers taunted each other with
what they both wanted—his cock in her pussy and his short hairs
kissing hers.

He walked back to the bed where she sprawled, legs wide and

wanton. She played with her clit and fingered herself, watching him
pump his prick. “Want a taste of this big guy?” he asked her. She
licked her lips, and he knew she did.

The thought of her mouth on him was almost enough to make him

explode. He reached for righteous anger to head off shooting his load.

“Did your boyfriend suck your clit for you?” He drawled the

question as she thrust her fingers deeper, moving her recently paddled
ass where Hank had lit a fire inside and out. He figured he had the
tool she needed to douse the flames.

He leaned over the bed, letting the wet end of his cock touch her

clit. She angled her hips higher, brushing his flesh, trying to get more.
When she attempted to wrap her legs around his waist, he forced them
wide, held them down, and grinned vindictively.

“I want,” she purred, arching her back to slide her open cleft up

and down his pole, wetting him with her pre-cum. She swiveled her
hips, angling so each slide up bumped the nub of nerves. He enjoyed

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21

the tease, knowing every touch sent fire darting through her pussy.
Her entrance opened and closed, brushing his cockhead invitingly.
"I want you to," she paused to tongue his ear, "fuck me so deep...I
can taste you in my mouth.”

Then she pulled his head down as her lips settled over his earlobe,

and she nipped him.

“Jesus, you win,” Hank slid into the only pussy he needed. He

dreamed of fucking Anna every night she’d been gone and a good
part of every day.

I’ll fill her and then fill her again, but by God, she’ll not grab her

pleasure from me until I know where she’s been.

It was hard remaining in control, but for the moment he had

business to attend to.

He gripped her rump and pulled her closer, rubbing his face in the

crease of her neck, inhaling the scent of Anna beneath the expensive
perfume she wore. She smelled earthy, like rich soil begging to be
plowed.

“How’s this?” Hank thrust deep, stretching her pussy until she

winced. He wanted her to feel him. Beneath the passion, anger
simmered. When she flinched, he pushed deeper, thrust harder, and
grabbed her hair, tilting her head back so he could read her face as he
impaled her with every shove of his hips.

“Where the hell have you been?” Water dripped off of him onto

her, and her body glistened with his sweat. His cock burned with her
heat as he pumped, not able to stop long enough to force an answer
from her.

She freed one leg and ran it up the side of his calf. His body

recorded the move, and his hips took up the tempo of the rubbing
foot. He rotated his pelvis, brushing his groin against her sensitive
folds. “This is my pussy, Anna. Am I deep enough?” He spread her
thighs wider, burying the last inch of his cock within. They lay chest
to breast connected by their sex, panting with the cascade of sensation
delivered when either of them moved. “Can you taste me yet?”

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Anna’s husky laugh mocked him. “Your ass, your pussy, bah!

You don’t own me, Hank Colton. I give to you what I want to give
and nothing more.

She clenched her internal muscles and squeezed proving her

power over him as she rotated her hips in a circular motion. Anna
laughed again at his groan and taunted. “Let me have it, lover.”

Hank felt her pussy sucking on his cock like a kid on a lollipop.

“Mother of God,” he groaned, fighting his own urge to spill again. He
could never get his fill of her.

“How is my favorite woman?” The hoyden had the nerve to mock

his mother, while she bit his lip and massaged his cock with her
clenching internal walls.

Catherine Colton, the woman in question, reminded Hank at every

opportunity that time spent with Anna was wasted. “She’s a fancy
woman who thinks she’s too good for ranch life. You need a wife and
babies, not a toy, son.”

He didn’t argue. Anna was the only woman he wanted, and right

now he intended to find out who she took off with at the end of
summer. If he had to keep her under him for two months to find out, it
would be time well spent. Then he was going to kill the son of a bitch.

His hips moved relentlessly. She licked the seam of his lips, and

he took the invitation, tongue tangling as well as lower limbs.

Goddamn, the woman tastes good. He pulled his mouth away and

growled his demand. “You gonna tell me who you left town with in
August?”

She tried to pull his head back down. “You talk too much,” she

complained in that husky voice that never failed to get him hard.

He pulled out of her. His cock protested at the same time Anna

scrambled to grab him and impale herself on it again.

“Nope, No more of that for you, sweet Anna.” Hank planned this

fucking every day she was gone. He slithered down her torso, holding
her captive beneath his weight.

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23

When he settled his lips around the first nipple he came to, she

jerked and gasped. “Easy, lover.”

He reared back and looked at her.
Easy…?
Anna had never wanted easy anything before. He admired the

plump breasts that gleamed with his sweat and frowned possessively
at the fullness there. Her tits were only one gorgeous part of a body
that was beyond a man’s wildest fantasies.

He settled down, circling the areola that surrounded her nipple,

lashing it with teasing licks, watching her eyes darken and her chest
heave as she begged. “Forget easy. Suck them.” Then she moaned.
“Please.”

A man gets all kinds of work thrown at him. It pays to concentrate

on one thing at a time.

He couldn’t deny the request and settled lips and tongue to the

task. From the way Anna squirmed and groaned, he figured he had
this particular job down pat. He could feel the gooseflesh on her tit,
alerting him that his wayward lover was about to come. “Ready to
talk?” His breath brushed across her silken flesh, taunting her with yet
another unfulfilled promise.

“Hank Colton.” She moaned in her sultry Southern accent as she

writhed under him. “You are a bastard.”

“Not ready to talk yet, hmmm?” Dominating her petite size, he

pinned her legs easily as he slithered farther down her body. Holding
her thighs splayed open wantonly, Hank inhaled Anna’s musky scent
of arousal that telegraphed her need and guaranteed the success of his
plan.

His grinned in satisfaction, before lowering his mouth to touch his

tongue to her thigh. She whimpered.

“Going to tell me?”
“I was in Tombstone,” she gasped. “Please.” He blew hot air on

her clit and wetness flowed from her pussy as she threw her head back
and howled. “King, you no good son of a bitch, do me.”

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Gem Sivad

“Lie number one.” He circled her entrance with his tongue and

delicately lapped her flesh before looking up to answer her mistruth.
“I got that message from Belle Russell.” He admired her swollen
pussy lips and savored the taste of her.

He licked her folds and nibbled along the flesh that led to her clit,

diabolically pleased when she whimpered louder.

“I sent a man to check. You weren’t there.”
Sent a man my ass…
He rode like the devil was at his heels when Anna’s best friend,

Belle, said she left town. He’d been prepared to humble himself and
do whatever it took to bring her back.

Hell, I even bought a ring to give her.
He’d been sorry he’d not thought of it before.
That was one hundred and eighty-two days ago. She’d been gone

two days before he discovered she left him.

Goddamn it, Anna waited to take off till she knew I was in

Abilene.

Remembered fear hardened his voice, his resolve, and his cock.

He let his tongue wander closer to the nerve endings that lay before
him. One swipe and she’d go over. He settled down for long torture.
He was a quarter Kiowa. He knew how to exact revenge.

* * * *


Anna groaned under the savage pleasure, raising her hips to get

more. Her head was buzzing she was so close. She had a cat
screaming and clawing inside of her, and by God, she was in heat for
this man.

She’d been without King too long. She missed him terribly at

first. But then there were other things, important business, to distract
her from the want. By the end of her lonely seclusion, she almost
convinced herself the madness of desire she remembered had never
been that strong.

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Now here he was, proving her self-delusion wrong. Once again,

her body was liquid heat reaching for satisfaction only he could
provide. He was crazy hot for her, too, but at the same time
determined to take charge of her life.

I will never let that happen again.
“You have no right.” She got that far with her declaration when he

lifted his head and glared at her. She admired the rough planes of his
face and adored his gruff assertion at the same time she bristled
against his claim.

“The hell you say. I have every right. You’re mine.”
He was furious. She knew he would be. She told Tommy she

would just sneak back into town and leave again the back way so
King would never know she’d come and gone.

Of course, she planned every possible scenario that might happen

if and when they did meet. She had a lot of friends in town, but he had
a lot of money, power, and when he needed it, charm. He was still
spouting his I am God nonsense, and she listened with half interest.

“Where have you been? Don’t feed me a line of bullshit. I already

know where you haven’t been—here, with me, where you’re
supposed to be.”

He was merciless in his torture, bringing her to the quivering

pinnacle of orgasm before he paused to ask each question. Anna’s
belly, womb, pussy, ass, and lungs coiled tighter each time he
promised, teased, withdrew, until her body threatened to burst into
flames.

Then he pushed her thighs wide open and buried his face again in

her folds. She needed it. She needed him now. Every nerve ending in
her body screamed. She panted an explanation. “The show closed, we
followed the drum and went to Fort Laramie. I was there.”

“Lie number two.” He looked up and intoned righteously as

though he was God Almighty. “I sent the same man to Laramie when
the trail pointed that way.”

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Gem Sivad

He stopped to nip her thigh. His tongue teased a trail of sensation

across the sensitive crease of her leg, almost close enough to touch
her pearl.

“It was a slow season…” She couldn’t keep the desperation from

her voice. “We lost the props, the show wagon broke an axle, we were
stranded…”

“Lies, lies, lies.”
As usual he was so busy pointing out her sins she outwitted him.

She swiveled her hips and swiped her clit against his moving lips, and
it was enough. Prickles of ecstasy fired her body.

“Yesss,” she screamed triumphantly and started an orgasm that

rolled from the tips of her well manicured toes to her lustrous red hair.
Even her earlobes seemed to pulse and vibrate.

“This isn’t over,” King Colton promised, raising to his knees to

slam his cock so deep in her clenching pussy he fulfilled her request.
She could taste him, and he was the most exotically delicious dish she
would ever have. She reminded herself of that as she savored deep,
partaking of her last meal.

She adored him and she’d never get over him, and that was the

right way to feel about the love of her life. Just like Desdemona,
Cleopatra, and Juliet, she was destined to have a tragic love, but she’d
be damned if she’d end up an old woman living out of a stage
suitcase.

So, this was it. He pulled her head against his shoulder to stifle

her ecstatic shriek even as his chest rumbled with the laughter she
loved to call out of him. “Christ, girl, they’ll think I’m killing you.”

She sank her teeth into his shoulder and rode the rest of her

climax, quietly anchored to his body, squeezing her pussy to send a
silent message of love to him, words she’d be damned if he’d hear out
loud.

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27





Chapter Three


“You should be in a good mood, relaxed and content, since you

just got what you came for,” she told him sarcastically. “Let me up.”

Granted she didn’t say any of that for at least forty minutes after

he collapsed on top of her, pinning her to the bed like he thought she
was going to jump out of the window. The first half hour, she enjoyed
the exquisite brush of skin against skin, memorizing the feel of his
body pressed against hers.

But when Anna finally came back to her senses, she rolled out

from under King, pushing him sharply with her elbow to demand
room, and then rose, pulling on the almost transparent wrapper he
brought from Austin the year before.

She smoothed her hands along the expensive silk, tying the belt

snugly around her narrow waist. The robe was made of the finest
quality material, even if the design, peacocks on a red background,
was bolder than her usual taste. But she’d been pleased and taken it as
evidence that Hank missed her and thought of her.

She’d missed him, too, and she’d been both frantically jealous and

worried when she heard rumors of wild parties and loose women in
the state capital.

That was when this whole mess started. She promised King she

wouldn’t let Tommy talk her back out on the stage, but it was the part
of a lifetime, Hamlet, and she was the lead actor. And if King Colton
was having fun without her…She decided to have another go at
acting.

The Travelers’ lead actor had an accident and couldn’t hold a

weapon. No sword fights, no audience. The Western theater-goers in

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Gem Sivad

Texas had proven to be a blood-thirsty bunch, and Hamlet, with its
ghost, murders, suicide, and hinted incest, filled the tent every night.

She knew the part, having served as prompter and understudy for

many of her predecessors.

With King out of town and rumors of his carrying on reaching her

ears, Anna decided to take her life back, at least until he returned. She
traveled with the theater group for two weeks before King even knew
she was gone.

That, she felt, was telling in and of itself. On top of that, she was a

success, which made her wonder at her decision to give up the stage
for a man who neglected her so shamefully.

Seven curtain calls and her audience never knew it was a girl

playing the melancholy Dane. Anna held the drink poisoned by the
King’s own hand, and forced death down the villain’s throat.

She’d crowed afterward, secure in her acting ability. It was the

premiere role and the Western spectators loved her. From Wichita
Falls to Julep, she packed the tent every night for fourteen nights in a
row.

Even thinking about it almost a year later, she savored her

moment of triumph. It had been the final scene. She’d been dressed in
a form-fitting jerkin and breeches.

Come, for the third, Laertes, you but dally.
The sword fight had the entire audience on the edge of their seats.
“Watch out, Hamlet, he’s plannin’ to stick you,” an excited

member of the rough crowd called out.

I pray you; pass with your best violence.
She tossed her sword to her other hand and feinted a thrust and

then parried skillfully.

Laughing at her would-be killer, she taunted him.
I am afeard you make a wanton of me.
Say you so? Come on.
The actor playing Laertes boldly forced her across the stage,

stopping her forward aggression, to send her reeling backward.

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Have at you now! Laertes thrust his sword, and Anna caught the

foiled tip and let it slide beneath her arm, simulating a hit.

The two players scuffled and exchanged rapiers as the man from

the audience shouted excitedly. “He’s killed you, son. I’m sorry to
say, you’re a dead man.”

Bettina, the actress playing Queen Gertrude, stood and toppled

from her throne. O my dear Hamlet,—The drink, the drink! I am
poison'd…

For a moment the crowd stilled. “Why that dirty sidewinder killed

his own woman. Let me take care of him for you, Hamlet.” The other
theater watchers wrestled the gun from the old man’s hand and
pushed him down with a rough admonishment to shut up.

The actors on stage were fired by the audience’s enthusiasm.

Anna knew that this was the performance of her life.

Hamlet, thou art slain; No medicine in the world can do thee

good; In thee there is not half an hour of life…the king, the king's to
blame.
Laertes sank to the stage, despairing at his own death and
confessing his collusion with the villain.

Hamlet strode rapidly across the stage, still strong and intent on

revenge. Anna’s words whipped out, carrying to the farthest reaches
of the tent corners.

Here, thou incestuous, murderous, damned Dane, Drink off this

potion. Is thy union here? Follow my mother.

Brutal suggestions on how to do-in the King were accompanied

by loud hoots and catcalls exhorting her as she forced a cup of poison
at her assassin and killed him too. Amid the clamor and noise, she
projected her final words, satisfied that her death speech would be
heard by all.

Oh, good HoratioIf thou didst ever hold me in thy heart;

Absent thee from felicity awhile, And in this harsh world draw thy
breath in pain, To tell my story.

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The other actors finished the act, bringing the play to a close that

received thunderous applause. Anna unwound from her death pose
and stood to take her bows with the rest of the players.

“Bravo, Anna.” Tommy hugged her. “You were magnificent.”
The curtain wouldn’t close because one of the pulls was snarled,

so being the lightest in weight, she did the honors. She bowed to the
laughing audience before shinnying up a rope to crawl across a thin
board freeing the stage material.

And then it all went to hell. When King returned to the hotel suite

from his trip to talk to the Texas legislature and found her gone, he
tracked her to the tent performance in Julep

King arrived late and couldn’t figure out where Anna was among

the characters on stage. Until Clowdy called to her even her lover
never suspected she was Hamlet.

Still euphoric from her success, she waved at the audience before

releasing the immobilized curtain. Then she scrambled back across
the narrow board and started down.

Regardless of the actors on the ground watching, King lifted her

from the rope before she descended half its length.

Without a backward glance, he carried her from the tent, behind a

wagon for some meager privacy, and away from the jubilant cast of
players who would celebrate another night of success.

“No more,” he growled at her. “I mean it, Anna. No more.”
She struggled out of his arms, giggling. “Why are you having

conniptions, King Colton?”

“Jesus Christ, girl, you could have broken your neck.”
He pulled her into his arms, and in the darkness, ravished her

mouth, the residue of his fear making him reckless. “And what the
hell are you doing, prancing around half naked in those clothes?”

When she slid her arms around his neck and held him close,

denying him nothing, he groaned. “Goddamn it, I need to be inside of
you.”

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Her shocked gasp of refusal made Hank tighten his embrace.

When she tried to step out of his arms, he held her. “Don’t claim you
don’t want it. I can feel your heat.” And then to prove his point, he
cupped her mound.

“King, you mustn’t,” she’d protested. “There are people near.”
“I don’t care.” He backed her against the wagon and lifted her so

his cock notched in the vee of her legs. “I must. Wrap your legs
around me, sweetheart.” He’d been ready to tear her clothes off and
have at it right there.

He had one hand shoved up her shirt and her rump cupped in his

other. “Will you deny me?”

She hardly recognized his voice, it had been so rough. But she

pulled his head down and kissed him.

“Where,” he’d demanded?
Not when—when is now, he’d made clear.
When she stalled, he said, “Grab a blanket and come on, or I’m

leaving. I’ve been gone half the summer working and come back to
find you missing. It’s now, tonight, or I’m through. I’m so hard I hurt
with it.”

He didn’t back down as they stared into each other’s eyes. It was

clear right then that they were talking about more than a quick swive
behind a barrel. Anna knew then if she returned to the celebrating
actors, she would lose her lover.

“All right,” she whispered. “I’ll be right back.” She gathered a

blanket and hurried back to him, and before she could change her
mind, he carried her away from the open area around the camp and
headed for his horse.

“Where are we going?” She was indignant at his arrogant

behavior, but she’d missed him, too. He didn’t answer, just swept her
higher in his arms and strode to his horse.

When they were mounted, her across his lap and tucked in tight,

he turned away from the town lights and rode into the night.

“I’m sorry, baby. You make me crazy for you.”

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He pulled the rolled blanket from behind his saddle and wrapped

it around her. Her rump pressed against his cock, and the hard ridge
told her how much he missed her. Her body clamored in want, his
dick surging up to press through her thin pants every step the horse
took.

He headed for a place by the river, but neither of them could wait.

“Unbutton your blouse.”

When she hesitated, he was harsh again. “Don’t be a tease. Some

other time, maybe, but I need my hands on you now.”

She hunched inside the blanket and fumbled with the buttons on

her blouse, suddenly shy and ready to hide her face from him. As
soon as the top was open, Hank roughly pushed away the layers
beneath until he held her naked flesh in his hand.

“Jesus,” was all he could manage in a guttural whisper confirming

his lust. He squeezed her breast and she could feel his cock surge in
response.

Then he tilted her back and lowered his mouth to taste her. Once

his lips settled over her nipple, the reluctance went out of her.

He pushed, sucked, licked, and finally bit at her taut buds till she

turned on the horse and straddled him to give him better access.

He hadn’t needed her encouragement to free his engorged flesh

for her to ride. He fumbled loose the strings that closed her pants and
shoved his hand inside, searching out her swollen pussy lips.

When he plunged his finger inside of her, saying, “Lift up,” she

did just that, letting him finger fuck her until she came hard, her body
claiming a release so strong, she collapsed against his chest, unable to
say a word or move.

He grinned from ear to ear when she finally looked up at him, and

he immediately planted her thighs on either side of his, bracing her on
the saddle. Just that fast, he ripped through the fabric of her breeches
and shoved the material out of his way to make room for his cock.

She’d been so ready. Master of the game, King pulled her up,

fitted himself to her entrance, and pushed inside.

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“You’re going to love this.”
Not “Anna, I love you,” but “You’re going to love this."
Remembering that moment later, Anna shook her head in despair.
It was clear he loved it—sex with her. Helplessly, she felt her

pussy take his swollen cock and wondered if he would split her in
two, so big was his need. With eyes wide open, passion stalled, she
watched his face settle into lines of savage intent. She’d been tight but
so needy the pain of his thrust was almost pleasure.

At last, when he was fully seated, she straddled him, pussy

splayed open, impaled, and filled, so when he kicked his mount into a
trot, every jarring stride shoved clit against groin.

At first she buried her face in his chest, unwilling for him to

witness her response to the exquisite torture. She wrapped her arms
around his waist and hid her face while he thrust and withdrew and
whispered passionate words against her hair.

“Squeeze your cunnie for me, sweetheart. Let me feel you kiss my

cock.”

Anna’s pussy clenched, flexing greedily. Her liquid release

smoothed the way, and she was soon sliding up and down, one climax
building into another as she rode both horse and man.

“God in heaven, I can’t get enough of you, girl. Give me some

more of that cream, honey.” He planted his thumb between her
splayed thighs as he cupped her ass and set the rhythm of their
coupling.

She’d bounced along, breasts brushing against his rough shirt with

each jolt of the horse’s trot. King had alternately dropped his head to
suckle her nipple before returning to take her mouth in open-mouthed
tongue-kisses, all the time she rode his big cock with her pussy and
his thick thumb with her ass.

Her body had softened around his as they both groaned in

pleasure, and by the time they’d reached the river, she’d come for him
three times.

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“I’m ten seconds from shooting my load,” he warned her. “Did

you use something?”

She usually used a sponge to stay childless since they both hated it

when he pulled out.

“No, I don’t have anything with me,” she told him.
He laughed that raw, lusty, growling rumble and complained,

“You’re killing me.” But he waited until they reached the river to pull
out and shoot his cum all over her belly.

“Can we swim?” she asked. He hadn’t wanted to swim. He

wanted to fuck all night long on the blanket. But she was already
naked, hair cascading down her back the way he loved it, and she
coaxed him into the water.

He shoved his pants off, following her into the river as she giggled

and swam away from him.

“You dare laugh at me, Anna?” He growled his question and then

cut off her laughter when he added, “You’re the most beautiful thing
I’ve ever seen with the moonlight spilling over you that way.”

She knew he meant it, too. If there was one thing she was sure of,

it was that King Colton was proud of his mistress’s beauty.

She let him catch her, and then she wrapped her legs around him

as he carried her from the water to their blanket, where he sprawled
under her. She straddled him, and he pulled her up to sit on his face
while he ate her pussy, slurping and tonguing her till her orgasmic
screams would have done Lady Macbeth proud.

King tongue fucked her and then withdrew to suck her clit, and

then tongue fucked her again. She loved the things he did with his
mouth and rode his face leisurely, claiming him as he claimed her. He
brushed her clit with his chin, before drawing back to blow a puff of
air there. Then he buried his tongue deep in her channel, wiggling and
thrusting before licking the climax from her. He laved and suckled
until there wasn’t another ripple of release possible.

When he eased her to his groin, she rested her head between his

thighs and languidly licked his balls, then the length of him, before

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35

sitting up to take him into her mouth. She worked her throat muscles,
swallowing to massage his length, humming to tickle the mushroom
head that nudged deep. He flipped her on her back, straddling her
face, and held her head still while he plunged his cock deep, letting
her suck him off and swallow the spurts of white cream he pumped
down her throat.

They’d been starved for each other. Her dramatic triumph was

nothing to the passion they shared together on the blanket by the river.
He finally kissed and loved on her breasts, tweaking them, rolling
them between his big fingers, even pulling them out to twist and pinch
as she squealed her pleasure. Then he sucked on one, biting the end
until it almost hurt, while she pumped his cock with her hand.

Even after hours of loving, they were still hot for each other, when

he rolled her under him to settle his long length over her, and his thick
cock inside. They fucked hard the first time, but he remembered to
pull out in time to spray his cum all over her belly. She played in it,
giggling and holding her fingers up for him to taste.

He sucked the white cream from her fingers and snorted with

laugher as his dick rose again, hard as a poker for her, like a stallion
after a mare in heat. But his touch was tender cradling her head in his
hands as he filled her mouth with his tongue at the same time he
thrust deep into her pussy.

He really cares for me, Anna thought then and later.
She was careful never to use “love” in her self-delusions. She

knew in her heart King never said the words because a rich man like
Hank Colton didn’t spend his love on an actress.

They relearned each other, a long and easy renewal of their sexual

bond, writhing together, shifting positions, until she collapsed,
exhausted from the orgasms that wrung her dry.

Still not sated, King pulled her to her knees, bent her over on the

blanket, adjusting her hips so he knelt behind her to spread her pussy
lips and pump his cock in and out until her internal muscles clamped

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down on his flesh, taking his seed. Neither of them gave any thought
about the repercussions of their bareback loving.

Of course, three weeks later, when Anna was once again bored

and alone in her silent rooms, she knew they made more than
passionate love the night King tracked her to Julep. On the banks of
the river, they’d made a baby.

Since King was away again, she shared her secret with Tommy.

After he hugged her, he’d broken her heart. “I hate to tell you my
news, then,” he’d groaned sadly.

“What could be worse than this?” she’d asked.
“Had a booking agent in the audience that last performance. He

and his woman companion were very impressed with our play.
They’ve offered us a contract to schedule theatrical presentations for
the troupe, all over the west.” He closed his eyes and then added,
“We’ll end the tour in San Francisco.”

“Nooo,” she howled, anguished at this turn of events. Playing in a

San Francisco theater had been the troupe’s dream.

“Yes.” Tommy had assured her. “And even though they loved

your Hamlet, you won’t be doing any sword fighting for a while.”

“The woman companion recognized you were female. She seemed

real taken with the idea of playing the Dane.”

“Who was she?” Anna asked dully.
“Don’t know,” Tommy admitted. “But I heard the agent call her

Sarah.”




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Chapter Four


Anna attempted to lay aside her memories as she folded the rest of

her lingerie and put it in her trunk. She let her eyes drift over the
room…so many beautiful gifts, so many wonderful memories. She
turned to him, prepared to explain her absence.

“I don’t know where you think you’re going after you get packed,

but it’s not anywhere but with me.” King spoke the words harshly,
ready to continue their quarrel until she capitulated and told him what
he wanted to know.

Her moment of tender nostalgia soured as her gaze returned to the

glaring man.

He wanted to fight, so she remained calm. He was an ass, and it

felt good to wordlessly dig at him when she could.

She’d been captive to his pleasure in this room for four years,

three months, two days—she checked the diamond studded timepiece
he gave her last Christmas—and thirty-two minutes.

King sat tensely upright on the bedroom chair she purchased from

New York, and shipped here to fit his big frame. Anna worked around
him, vibrating to his presence like a hummingbird sated from nectar.

She wanted to crawl onto his lap and curl up with her head on his

chest. For just a minute, she wanted to have his protective arms wrap
around her one more time, call him Daddy, and know he would take
care of her always. But she didn’t.

“All right, what is it you want?” She ignored Hank’s gruff

question and kept working.

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“Anna, I’ve kept you in pretty high style for four years. This place

doesn’t come cheap, you know. I think you owe me an explanation, if
not loyalty.”

Anna hummed as she stripped the rooms he paid for every month.

“Yes, you did,” she agreed. “And the first of each month you left the
receipt on my desk like a tip for a whore.”

“Not a desk,” he growled. “A desk is where a person works. I left

the receipt on the imported French cherry wood table I bought for
your birthday.”

He bit off each word and then clamped his lips shut as though to

stop more. Anna imagined tendrils of smoke curling from his ears. It
pleased her to know she riled him to this point. His indifference
would have hurt much more. It was surprising that in the four years
they’d been lovers, they’d never done damage to each other, even
though they both had fierce tempers.

Anna looked at the hotel room. She would miss it. The room was

lovely. With nothing else to do, she spent his money and her time
decorating it to her taste. It had been one way to fill the hours when
King Colton was on his ranch or attending to cattlemen’s business in
the state capital.

It was true she never asked him for anything he had not given. She

couldn’t look at the man she was leaving, or she would burst into
tears and beg him to…what?

That’s why she left. They had this suite of rooms, but like a well-

managed play with fine props, it was an illusion she could make only
as authentic as its limitations allowed. Hank Colton’s real life was his
ranch, King’s Hold, and his cattle.

Anna carefully wrapped her silk stockings and scarves in

protective cloth to preserve them. It would be a rare occasion when
she might need them again or the elaborate gowns King
commissioned made to fill her closets. She sighed, trying not to think
about life without him.

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“Hell, girl, without me, the Travelers would still be a half-baked

bunch of losers with a broken-down wagon.”

She loved Hank Colton, but sometimes he made it easy to dislike

him. As if it just occurred, she was reminded of their first meeting.

Four years before, the Travelers rolled into town in their one

wagon, horses out of food, and actors ready to quit the tour. Anna
remembered the first night they played Macbeth to a bunch of rowdy
drunks who started a fight, disrupting her great scene.

She walked to the edge of the stage, and using her

Lady Macbeth voice to make her request especially seductive, she
called to the tallest man in the room. “Hie thee hither that I might
pour my spirits in thine ear
.”

Power on the hoof covered the space between them so rapidly she

stepped back a pace as she faced the slim hipped cowboy in the
Stetson hat.

I am a trained actress. My voice can reach the rafters. These

rowdies will not destroy my best scene ever.

But the big man reached up, lifted her from the stage, and set her

down on the floor right in front of him. While the spectators, who
stopped fighting, watched the more interesting byplay in front of
them, he tipped her chin, lowered his mouth, and tasted her lips.

“Oh.” She moaned softly against a mouth that was first hard and

demanding and then gentle and coaxing. When he lifted his head
without releasing her, she stared into steely eyes that crinkled at the
corners, and she could only murmur, “Your face, my Thane, is as a
book where men may read strange matters.”

“I don’t know what you just said, little lady, but you can pour

those sweet sounds into my ear anytime you want.”

Anna had been draped over his arm, and she sighed tremulously

up at him. He’d taken that for an invitation and lowered his head
again to lick the seam of her lips, which she parted to invite him
inside. It was all the enticement he needed.

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He plundered her mouth, and she melted in his arms, oblivious of

their audience. She could barely stand by the time he lifted his lips
from hers, planting half kisses from forehead, to nose, and back to
mouth before he released her.

He was the sexiest ugly man she’d ever seen. His face was dark,

his nose too wide, his chin jutted arrogantly, and his eyes, flint gray
and demanding, stared at her like they’d always known her and she
belonged to him.

“Please excuse these drunken sots. They’ll not interrupt you

again.” He set her back on the stage. After a snarled word from him
to the crowd, it was quiet, and she resumed her lines.

While Lady Macbeth railed at her husband and seduced him with

words, Anna spoke the lines to the man watching intently from his
table. When it ended, she rushed backstage to clean off the stage
makeup, bathe, and don the dress Juliet wore when she first met
Romeo.

Anna still remembered her jittery nerves as she prepared to meet

the cowboy who made her blood pound and her body feverish. She’d
known right then someone special finally stumbled into her life.

But he didn’t come back stage or leave a message for her. She’d

been left wondering if she imagined the heat that crackled between
them. And he hadn’t even introduced himself or asked for her name.

What beast was it, then, that made you break this enterprise to

me?

She didn’t see him again for a week. The run had been short, but

they earned enough to settle the grumbling actors and fix the wagon.
They’d been set to leave, her sitting on the wagon bench, hat in place,
waving. Good relations and word-of-mouth telling were some of their
best promotional opportunities, and Anna didn’t ever miss any.

Hank Colton, better known as King Colton, rode up to the wagon

as if he owned the street, the town, and the citizens who lived there.
She only had to ask one person for the name of the man who turned

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her to jelly in front of an audience. It seemed possible he did own the
whole place.

Still mounted, he plucked her from the wagon seat and rode back

up the main street to the door of the Silver Dollar Hotel.

It was expensive, fancier than the cheap hotels where the troupe

stayed on rare occasions. He slid from the horse carrying her with him
past the smirking clerk and up the stairs. People looked at them, but
he ignored everyone. She hung on as he mounted the steps since it
was clear he wasn’t turning her loose.

He fumbled with the lock, kicked the door open, and locked it

behind them. Then he set her on her feet and jerked her buttons open
until she was bare to the waist.

She should have been shocked. But since he first put his hands

around her waist and lifted her so gently from the stage, she knew she
needed to have more of that power for herself.

“My name is Anna.” She pulled his shirt out of his belt and up and

over his head.

“I know,” he groaned, fighting with her to get out of the

remaining clothes. “I’m King Colton, and I’m desperate to have you,
honey. Please tell me you want this, too.”

It was a poor time for him to be asking, but that didn’t register

until later because she was too hot to consider him high-handed. They
didn’t pause in their coupling until hunger for food interrupted them
the next day.

Even when they lay side-by-side and satisfied, he still kept a

possessive arm over her. She remembered how she rubbed her hand
across his chest, bare but for some dark hair that traced a line down
his flat belly to his cock.

“How long do we get to use this room?” She hadn’t wanted to

ever leave and brushed kisses across his chest in her exuberance.

“Forever.” He sounded smug, and then added, “I leased it. It’ll do

until I get you a house here in town.”

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She sat up, her hair tumbling down across her shoulders. “I don’t

understand.”

He started to get belligerent immediately. “You’ll stay here from

now on. I don’t want you out there with the riff-raff, mingling with
those people.”

“I beg your pardon?”
But she already bundled her hair and picked up her clothes.
“You heard me.” But he was talking to her back.
She dressed, keeping her mind blank and her lips sealed. When

she pulled on her shoes and stockings and walked toward the door, he
leaned against it, watching her through eyes that were hard and
determined.

“I’m late. Could you arrange transportation for me?” At that

moment, Anna couldn’t remember a time when she’d ever been
angrier. Since then she’d become accustomed to his determined and
relentless reordering of her life.

She waited calmly for him to be a gentleman and offer her a ride

back to the Travelers. When he didn’t move, she turned and walked to
the second story window and opened it.

“Right.” His laughter floated to her, suggesting his disbelief that

she could leave.

She threw a leg over the sill, grabbed the edge to lower herself out

of the window, feet dangling in the air, and skirts billowing out for
anyone below to see.

The last thing she heard was her lover swearing. She was powered

by adrenaline, rage, and bravado. When he stuck his head out the
window and saw her crossing the ledge, hand over hand, he stopped
swearing and started promising.

“All right, come back. We’ll talk.” She’d kept going. “I promise. I

was just doing what I could to take care of you.” The timbre of his
voice sent shivers through her, and she almost lost her grip.

“Not good enough.”

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She made her stand that day, dangling from the ledge, assuring

him she was her own boss.

“I’ll give you anything. Just come back over here now, damn it.”

Her arms had been tired, and she lost her desire to fight with him.

“All right.” She’d walked her hands back across until he reached

out and pulled her into the room. He shook all over. She did also.

Anna sat down on the edge of the bed where he had shown her

bliss for two days, folded her arms, looked at the floor, and waited.

He sat down beside her, making the bed creak, and reminding her

of their earlier lovemaking. From the corner of her eye, she saw him
also fold his arms, mimicking her.

They sat silently until the room darkened and street lanterns cast a

soft upward glow. Then, he slid his arm around her shoulders and
pulled her against his chest.

Her gasped sob turned into a full-scale, grand howl while he held

her, and petted her. Then he set the pattern for all of their future
quarrels, when Hank undressed Anna and made love to her. By
morning she couldn’t remember why she’d thought it a bad idea to
live in a suite of rooms in the Silver Dollar Hotel.

She had to give him credit. He certainly made her comfortable.

But after the first flush of awe at her rich surroundings and steady
meals abated, she’d gotten lonely. King was attentive when he was
with her, but for most of the time she was left on her own to entertain
herself.

* * * *


She looked at the man she yearned to stay with the rest of her life

and told him the truth.

“You neglected me,” she said flatly.
“Jesus Mary and Joseph,” Hank cursed and glared at Anna. “I’ve

had to run off land grabbers and fight rustlers. We’re just now getting
the herd numbers back up from the drought two years back, and the

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thieves in Austin would steal every acre of King’s Hold if I didn’t
fight them at the state level.”

He looked at her incredulously as if he could not believe what he

heard.

“You neglected me,” she repeated grimly. “You have your ranch,

your acres, your cattle, and your important friends in the Texas
legislature. That should be enough. It certainly seems to have kept
you entertained in the past.”

Indignation once again rose in her chest, and she glared at him,

determined to feel no sympathy. Yes, he was a busy rancher, and yes,
his business had been plagued by rustlers and horse thieves.

“Some things are forgivable and some aren’t,” she told him.

Silently she added. I was always there for you. It is not unreasonable
to expect the same in return.

Instead, even when they were together, his mind had been

elsewhere. Important things that couldn’t be missed were ignored.
King had been oblivious to everything but his own problems and he
hadn’t included her in them.

Anna looked at him almost wistfully. She knew she could have

finished packing sooner, but even now she drew out the moments
because she wanted to savor this last time.

She rehearsed her speech, parts of Desdemona mixed with

Ophelia. He wouldn’t recognize them. He was a Philistine who ran his
ranch with a balance sheet and a pistol, and he considered theater a
place where whores and pimps hung out.

She straightened her spine and turned, ready to deliver the greatest

lines of her career, and someone knocked on the door.

King stood, crossed to it, and answered as though he’d been

waiting. “When I get back in a little bit, be ready to explain your
whereabouts for the last six months in detail, Anna. Neglect be
damned. I’ll have the name of the man you ran off with before this
day is done. And don’t think about telling me another lie.”

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He left, and Anna stood looking at the closed door with no one to

witness her exit.

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Chapter Five


Tommy must have been lurking around the corner, because King

had no sooner left than the stage manager knocked on the door.

“All packed?” he asked sympathetically.
“Oh, Tommy…” The tears fell down her cheeks and she let him

see her grief for a moment. Then she straightened her face and dabbed
daintily with her Irish linen handkerchief, preparing to get on with her
life without King Colton. Tears left stains and red eyes, neither of
which she intended to present to the world.

She brushed away the wet streaks and choked out a laugh over a

hiccupped sob. “That was hard. I wish things were different.”

“Tell him,” the stage manager advised. “It’s not too late for him to

make it right. Tell him.”

But she smoothed her hands over the silk gown she could once

again wear and straightened a ruffled flounce. “Don’t be silly. I won’t
beg for love, and I certainly will not force a man to marry me. I don’t
want to spend my life with someone who doesn’t want me.”

Her words stiffened her resolve and her spine. “We will follow the

plan. Nothing has changed. You were right. This meeting today was
foolish and unfortunate.”

She sighed dramatically and then added with true bitterness, “You

saw how long he lingered. Just long enough to say, ‘Where the hell
have you been, get in bed, and then good-bye.’”

Being a trained thespian, she did a fair mockery of King Colton’s

words, capturing the essence, if not his deep rumble.

She mopped her eyes angrily and took one final look at the place

that had been their home, hers and King Colton’s. He was the third

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largest ranch owner in these parts, and a man it was a mistake to
cross. And she was about to cross him in the most wicked way.

She was about to leave the state and move to Tazewell County,

Virginia, where she would assume a new role as the widowed wife of
the late Henry Colton and mother of his daughter. She thought it a
nice twist to take the name he never offered.

She and Tommy both knew her bravado wouldn’t hold long, so he

left her to say her silent good-byes to the room and her memories and
hoisted her trunk on his shoulder, ready to haul it down to the alley
where he parked the wagon.

“If we’re going to do it, it’s time to make the switch, Anna,”

Tommy murmured sympathetically. “I’ll park this trunk and nip into
the saloon to pick up the bottles of whiskey I ordered. Then we’ll be
ready to go.”

She was leaving on the stagecoach in two hours. But there would

be a hundred people ready to swear they’d seen Tommy load her
trunk and Anna climb inside the troupe’s home on the road. King
would go one way looking for her while the coach carried her away
from temptation and sin, and him.

It was all theatrical tricks, of course. Bettina was her height. On

cue, the knock came. She opened it to a woman dressed as a maid.
The maid usually came by this floor an hour later, but no one would
question or even remember her earlier presence. She had to
congratulate King Colton on the quarters he provided for them. He
hadn’t spared the expense when he made her a kept woman.

“Bettina.” She nodded silently at the costume waiting. The other

woman hurried into the blue silk dress chosen because Anna had once
worn it playing Ophelia, Hamlet’s tragic lover.

Just as quickly as the other actress, Anna dressed in the maid’s

costume. The troupe seamstress had stitched an exact replica of staff
apparel for her. She checked her appearance in the beveled antique
mirror in the foyer of her suite.

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Two tiny lines marred her brow. Involving the troupe risked their

future too. King Colton was a vindictive son of a bitch, and he would
hound them out of the territory if he could not find her. She pressed
the tips of two fingers against her forehead, smoothing away the
frown.

Good thing Tommy is ready to take the troupe to San Francisco.
Thanks to King Colton’s support, the Travelers expanded from

one wagon to six. It was ironic that it had been his money that let
them join the Theatrical Syndicate, a new consortium that managed
bookings for actors throughout the West.

Grimly, she acknowledged the treasure King Colton had been. But

it had been so much more than his money she’d cherished. His
mother, who once visited her, doubted Anna’s motives and said so.

“I have come to introduce myself so that I can understand my

son’s unfortunate alliance with an actress.” Catherine Colton’s slate
gray eyes, the exact shade of her son’s, confronted Anna.

King Colton’s mother, although small in stature, filled the room

with her royal presence as she openly cataloged the contents of the
suite. “He’s spent a pretty penny on you, I see.”

Anna knew better than to upstage a queen. Catherine Colton gave

her unsolicited advice that day, and she was now grateful she listened.

“Men, eventually, always tire of their play things. It would be best

if you saved some of your bounty for a rainy day because, even here
in Texas, we have a good downpour now and then to wash away the
dirt.”

Anna chafed at the insult, but nevertheless, as her lover lavished

gifts and cash upon her in an astonishing quantity, she saved and
invested. One of her investments had been in her beloved Travelers.

* * * *


Anna wet her pinkie and ruffled the line of her eyebrow at the

same time she lowered her lids in a squint that mimicked the half-

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sight of old age. In the mirror, she met the eyes of her replacement,
nodded, and turned to leave her life with King Colton behind.

Red wig in place, the new Anna Fuller stepped into the hallway

and hurried down the back stairs to the waiting wagon. The real Anna
went the opposite direction, shoulders rounded with weariness, the
steps of a much older woman dragging toward the end of a work day.

She held sheets and bedding in her hands, and when she heard

King Colton’s voice coming up the center stairs, she rapped sharply
on the nearest door. “Clean linens,” she declared to the startled
occupant.

Once she was inside, the room’s owner fled hastily while Anna

changed the bed and tidied the room. She remained there, waiting
until she heard her former lover leave the suite that had been theirs,
swearing the whole way as he ran down the backstairs.

Again she exited, this time making a clean escape to the pantry

where a second valise waited with yet another disguise. She resumed
her role as an aged nanny. It was a part which she considered she did
very well.

She added the final two props, glasses and a purple turban

guaranteed to draw the eye up and away from her face. Her gray
bombazine dress and wrapper suggested refined poverty.

Pencil and stage makeup gave her wrinkles, creating the illusion

of an old woman. A veil protected the genteel lady from dust and
flying debris and provided a barrier for Anna from too observant
fellow travelers. She nodded into the mirror propped against a basket
of potatoes. She would do.

Anna left behind the maid’s uniform and acknowledged with

irony that she had to act her way out of her life as an actress. “Curtain
down,” she whispered from trembling lips. “Curtain up.”

The old drab leaned on her cane and thumped down the middle of

the hall, carrying the valise that had been turned inside out. It had
become a giant purple carry-all that contained the knitting needles and
yarn an old woman might use to fill the hours of tedious travel.

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The clerk looked up as she creaked slowly down the steps,

holding tightly to the banister.

“I’ll be caring for a baby—a girl whose mother passed away

giving birth.” If the clerk didn’t know who she was, it didn’t matter.
He would remember an old, feeble woman, stooped by both poverty
and despair. A woman he would never connect to the disappearance
of Anna Fuller.

She made her tone somber and worked her way slowly across the

Silver Dollar lobby with the shuffling steps of old age. It wasn’t hard
to look sad. She was desolate to be leaving King Colton.

If her getaway seemed a bit elaborate, only she truly understood

the necessity. King Colton would not let go of his toy easily. And she
could no longer be his pet love slave, even if it was a role she
cherished.

Their plan almost worked. Bettina, now dressed as a nun, stood in

the shade of the stage depot, minding the two-month old baby who
slept as her part had been written.

Anna had been five months pregnant and just beginning to have a

rounded tummy when she left King. Their daughter arrived early with
little fuss, leaving Anna fit and ready to assume the role of her life—
mother.

But after she’d given birth, Anna missed Hank Colton more than

she ever thought possible. She grieved for him, even the stubbornness
in him that kept them apart. So, on her way to a new life, she thought
she would drop in on her former lover and see him one last time. She
grimaced in disgust. Nothing had changed.

* * * *


Anna bent lower, exaggerating the limp just a little, wobbling to

make her presentation more sympathetic. She nearly made it to the
edge of the alley when she heard a scuffle and then a groan.

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She tucked her chin low and gripped her cane tighter. Even old

women were accosted if they looked like they might have something
worth stealing.

She was half way across the alley front, focused on reaching the

boardwalk that led to the stage depot, when she heard her name
called. “Anna.”

She had to look. She could see Bettina, now in a nun’s costume,

standing with the baby. She motioned for her to wait in the depot and
ignored the call for help until both disappeared into the building.

Then she turned toward the sound as she gripped her cane, ready

to thrust it at an attacker, sword-like, if necessary.

“Anna.” This time it was a definite moan. She hurried now,

indifferent to discovery or danger. She recognized the voice. He was
pulled up against the building, dragged back in the dark shadows
where discovery might not be made until the smell of dead flesh
alerted folks. But he was still alive.

Anna leaned over Tommy. His nose was broken, and his arm was

twisted at an odd angle. “Who did this? Why?”

He labored to speak and reached to clutch the neck of her old

woman’s dress to pull her closer. “Help me up.” It was a gruesome
sight, straight out of one of Shakespeare’s tragedies, only this was for
real.

She was strong. Years of fencing, dancing, and stringing curtains,

developed her muscles. She helped him stagger to his feet and move
toward the front of the alley where the sun banished the shadows, but
the street was ominously quiet.

And then he sagged, falling so hard against her that the knife

protruding from his shoulder inched a bit farther into his flesh. He lay
on the ground, panting in pain, determined to tell her something.

“I overheard them plotting.” He coughed, red trickling down from

his broken nose like bad theater paint.

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Anna watched it with horror. This had to be some kind of game, a

side plot or scene someone had rewritten and forgotten to tell her
about.

But the sound of Tommy’s wheezing attempts to tell her

something had her attention. “Anna…” He gasped for breath and
laughed harshly. “There were two of them, maybe three. I didn’t get
out of the way fast enough.”

“Tommy, I need to get you to the doctor. Lean on me.” She leaned

closer, shouldering his weight. “You’re going to be just fine. Hold on
to me now.” But she could not lift him from where he collapsed in the
dust.

“You’ve got to get word to Colton,” he groaned “There were men

in the saloon talking about plugging King in the back.”

“I’ll tell him,” she said fiercely. Anna ran, holding her purple

turban in place with one hand and her skirts hiked up, cane waving,
with the other. She didn’t care that she presented an incongruous
figure of an old woman racing down the boarded walk toward the
doctor’s place.

Panic stricken, once in the office she gasped, “Doctor Carter, I

need you to come,” she panted for breath but infused her message
with urgency. “Someone stabbed Tommy, and he needs a doctor.”

Ansell Clark, the town sheriff, jumped his checker across three

squares on the board and said, “King me” to the doctor who already
stood, ready to leave.

“You’ll do anything to get out of losing to me,” the lawman

grunted and then picked up his hat and Winchester.

Anna turned immediately and clutched the lawman’s arm. “Men

are after King, right now, Sheriff Clark. This afternoon, Tommy heard
them plotting to shoot Hank in the back.”

She might be furious with King Colton, a simmering anger that

remained banked and under control until six months before. But she
didn’t want anyone to hurt him. She certainly didn’t intend to let harm
come to him. No one gets to murder King Colton but me.

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Chapter Six


King Colton strode down the boardwalk beside the Mercantile,

heading for the end of town where the Travelers theater group stabled
their stock and kept their wagons. He’d gone back to their rooms as
soon as he finished talking to the Pinkerton.

He was still reeling in shock from that information. Anna was a

mother. She’d gone off to have some man’s baby. He wanted to weep.
That wasn’t supposed to happen. She was supposed to be his. Hell, he
was going to marry her when the time was right.

He hitched up his gun belt and walked faster, afraid she might get

away again. As unpalatable as raising another man’s kid was, he’d do
it. He’d forgive her, too. He’d left her alone too much, and her being a
lusty woman, well, he decided it was his fault she had to find loving
somewhere else.

The Pinkerton found her and followed her to Sparrow Creek,

anxious to claim the giant reward Hank promised him. The Pinkerton
reported that Anna stayed out in the country with another woman. He
remembered how hard they’d gone at it in the hotel room and gritted
his teeth. Easy, baby, she’d said.

What if he’d hurt her? Rage turned to fear and something else as

every ruthless bone in his body focused on getting her back so he
could care for her the rest of his life.

“I hope the baby is a girl,” he muttered.
Someone who looks like her, someone who, as she grows older,

will favor her mother and not remind me with her looks that I didn’t
get the honor of being her father.

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Distracted, he walked hastily toward the livery and paid no

attention to the figure lurking behind a wagon parked in the street.

He was half way across the packed dirt that made the only street

in Sparrow Creek when all hell broke loose.

“Colton, watch your back.” It was the shout of Ansell Clark that

had him spinning around, gun in hand.

But even as he prepared to shoot, an old woman carrying a raised

cane sped toward the gunman who already took aim.

King thought he was a dead man. As he looked down the barrel

of the rifle aimed at him, he sighed a message he hoped would
somehow reach his beloved.

Sweetheart, I love you.
Somehow, all the pent-up anger and months of worry coalesced

into truth. He was in love with Anna Fuller and he’d never gotten
around to telling her.

King hoped Anna would get his thought. He spun sideways and

dived into the red dirt, rolling away as the first shot plowed the earth
where he just stood.

He said it again, this time out loud, not wanting to waste his last

breath on empty words. “Anna, I love you.”

There was no second shot. Instead, as he rolled onto his belly,

taking aim at the shooter, he watched the old woman launch herself
through air. She leapt first on the hitching post and then hopped over
to the wagon, then straight onto the gunman’s back.

She used her cane like a cudgel and had the outlaw on his knees

by the time Sheriff Clark got to them.

King staggered to his feet and raced to thank the old woman and

see if she was all right.

Her purple turban slipped from her head, and Anna’s hair tumbled

around her shoulders.

King stared at her, confused, as she turned on him. “Are you all

right, King?” she asked.

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“Anna?” He scooped her into his arms and hugged the old woman

who sounded like the woman he loved. “Honey, I thought I’d lost you
again. I was going to the livery stable. Folks said you took off with
the actors…”

“Hank Colton, you get yourself off the street right now. Tommy

heard murderers plotting to shoot you.” It was his Anna’s voice
ordering him to mind like she had been doing since the first night he
met her.

Tears slid down her cheeks, and the stage makeup she donned

smeared and marred her beautiful skin. Fear that he might never get
the chance to tell her had words spilling out of his mouth before his
brain could slow him down.

“Anna, I love you. I don’t care if you do have another man’s kid. I

forgive you. Just come on back to me and say you won’t leave me
again.”

She stepped away from him, and her tears dried up on the spot.

“What did you say?”

Hank stared down at her in exasperation. Hell, he just declared

himself in front of God, the sheriff, and Anna, and she still wasn’t
happy with him.

“With all due respect, King,” Sheriff Clark interrupted the heated

exchange and cleared his throat from where he stood over the downed
marksman, “I think the little lady is right. You need to get your ass off
the street. We don’t know that there was only one shooter.”

As if his words called forth the second man, a shot hit the post

behind Anna and ricocheted against the wagon, splintering the wood
behind him. He lifted her in his arms, bounding onto the sidewalk and
into the saloon.

She hugged her arms around him at the same time she swore in his

ear. “You are a dumbass, dunderheaded, donkey’s rear end, Mister
King Henry Colton. As soon as you’re safe and we catch your would-
be assassins, I might kill you myself.”

God, how I love this woman!

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They burned up the sheets together, but it was more than the sex

that kept him faithful to her. He liked her. She was a firecracker who
stood toe-to-toe with him when many a man wouldn’t.

From the tips of her beautiful toes, which he liked to lick

champagne from, to her sumptuous breasts, alabaster skin, and mane
of flaming hair, she was all luscious female. Anna was his woman,
and by God, no sneak-thief in the night was going to steal her away.

He was reminded that she left him and that he wanted her back.

He set her on the floor, careful with her now that he also remembered
she was a mother.

“You have a baby.” He stared at her heaving breasts and figured

she was about to howl.

“I neglected you. You’re right. I considered what you said. It’s my

fault, and I won’t ever hold it against you or the child.” His words
piddled to a halt when she said nothing. “Do you love the baby’s
father?” He ached at those words, didn’t want to know the answer, but
strained to hear her speak.

He took a moment to look up at Anna. Her eyes glistened with

tears and her cheeks were flushed. Her remorse looked more like
anger to him, and her silence set off warning bells. “Is it a girl or a
boy?”

“Girl.” Her answer was clipped, not the grateful tones of a

forgiven and repentant lover. “And, yes.”

“Yes what? ‘Yes you’ll come back, or ‘yes’ it’s my fault you

decided to lollygag around with a stranger when I was working?” He
could feel the grievances he collected and cherished for months, rising
as at the same time, he tried to tamp them down. This was not the
time to get her back up over a little misunderstanding.

“Yes,” she said again. Anna reached up and pulled the remnants

of the turban from her head.

“Yes, I am a mother. Yes, you neglected me. Yes, it’s your fault I

got pregnant in the first place. And, yes, I love the father.”

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King Colton felt his heart sink when he heard her last words. He

bowed his head, a defeated man. She turned away and spoke to Ansell
Clark.

“Tommy was loading my trunks in the troupe wagon. I was on my

way to meet Bettina to catch the coach.”

So she was leaving me for good.
He tried one last time. Regardless of Ansell Clark listening, he

begged.

“I don’t want you to go. I love you. I’ve always loved you. I

haven’t fucked another woman since the day we first…”

She spun on her heel and glared at him, “Yes, I remember it well.

My courtship consisted of a ride from the Travelers’ wagon to the
Silver Dollar Hotel.”

He blinked down at her and frowned. “I thought you were happy.”
He had been. Between running his ranch and herding cattle to

market, he had Anna to come home to every spare moment he could.
He’d thought about taking her to the ranch.

What would a sophisticated woman like her do on a cattle ranch?
So, he rented a room at the Silver Dollar Hotel and set her up. He

tried to buy her a house just to make sure she stayed where he could
feel like they were a family, but she refused that plan. He frowned,
continuing his thoughts aloud.

“Things are different now. You have a family. We have a family.

You are not gallivanting around the country with that actors’ troupe,
carrying a baby into who-knows-what. I won’t permit it.”

There, I laid down the law. Let her chew on that.
She ignored him, turning her back on him to look at the sheriff,

who studied the floor and pretended to not listen to the richest man in
the territory whine like a school boy.

“Guard him,” she ordered Clark. “I need to go get my baby.” She

whipped around and headed for the back door before either man could
stop her.

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Jesus fucking Christ, get your ass back here right now,” King

roared as she stuffed her hair under her turban and once again
resumed the guise of a feeble old woman.

“My baby is in the stage depot, and I’m going for her.” She poked

him with her cane for emphasis even as she prepared to exit.

“That old lady disguise won’t get you cover. You already blew

that. You aren’t going anywhere.”

Damn it, he knew he shouldn’t have said that as soon as the

words left his mouth. Tell Anna one thing, and by God, she was
determined to do the opposite. A mental image of her dangling from
the second-floor ledge of the Silver Dollar Hotel flashed before him.

“I’m going along.” He ducked through the door, hard on her heels,

and then beside her, tucking her body next to his as they both sprinted
through the alley along the back of the buildings.

They weaved through the shadows until they reached the horse

trough behind the depot. He stopped at the back door, checked behind
them in the alley, and then blocked her entrance.

“Stay here.” He’d park her and get the baby.
“Don’t be stupid,” she hissed. “It’s you they want to kill.”
Hard as it was to admit the truth of her words, it was dumber still

to stand in the alley, a target for anyone on the roof. He stepped from
her path and watched her enter the back of the building.

He eased the door wide, wedging a stone against it to keep it

open. She leaned on her cane, tapping across the floor to maximize
the sound and advertise her presence. Had King not known it was
Anna, he would never have recognized the bent old woman two steps
from the connecting door when it flew open.

“Who the…you’re that…” Was all the man got out of his mouth

before Anna used the derringer King bought her for her birthday the
summer before to blow the Colt 45 out of the gunslinger’s hand.

Then, before the killer could react or get out of the way, she

brought the cane down across his head hard enough to bend metal.

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The outlaw fell where he stood, and she jumped across him,

leaving King to drag the body out of the way.

“Jesus, I’m glad to see you,” a nun shrieked as soon as Anna

rushed to her side. King looked hard at her and realized she was one
of the actors.

The outlaw was unconscious and likely to remain so for a while.

Nevertheless, Hank searched him and removed a hidden gun and a
knife in the man’s boot.

“If you don’t know him, he must be a hired killer,” Anna observed

at the same time she swooped down on the nun.

“My baby...” Anna was all mother as she scooped the fussing

bundle into her arms and crooned softly. Hank longed to be part of
that circle of love.

Two more shots outside brought his attention back to business.

“Stay here and stay low,” he told the women.

And then before he left, he paused at the door. “Does she look

like you?” He asked hopefully.

“No.” Anna’s answer was smug and self-satisfied. He nodded,

dropped that last hope, and made to leave.

“She looks just like her daddy,” Anna whispered. “And she acts

like him, too. She’s cranky and demanding sometimes. You can meet
her later. Be careful.”

* * * *

Anna watched Hank Colton’s back disappear through the door and

wanted to rush after him to keep him safe.

“Ah, Anna, he’ll be fine,” Bettina reassured her. “Only the good

die young, and King Colton doesn’t meet that standard. He’s too
mean to get his ass shot off out there.”

Nevertheless, she fussed over her daughter, worried about her

lover, and guarded the fallen outlaw. The two women unwound the

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strip of material that made up her hat and tied their prisoner’s hands
and feet with the remnants from the purple turban.



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Chapter Seven


The shooting was over, and Sheriff Ansell Clark made short work

of the prisoners. The shooters had been more than glad to spill the
names of their employers. The group of Eastern land developers that
King had been fighting in Austin had decided to shut him up
permanently. Warrants for the rich bankers and business men had
already been filed and issued.

“I expect a lot of our troubles are done for a while,” Clark stated.

“And I’m damn glad of it. The Easterners can’t seem to quit trying to
take a bite out of Texas.”

King lingered only long enough to see the men behind bars and

untangle the why of the attack to make sure it was done. He asked
Anna to wait in their suite for him, and he rehearsed his words as he
hurried to join her.

He took the stairs two at a time, afraid she wasn’t there, and then

slowed down when he heard a baby crying.

He fell for Anna the first night she stepped to the edge of the stage

and called her incomprehensible words to him. Even without seeing
her up close, a frisson of heat coursed through him that night when
she spoke to him in her husky voice and invited him to come to her.

Then, he sat mesmerized, watching the vibrant redhead as she

played a seductress luring a man to his destruction. Just as Lady
Macbeth ruled her husband, Anna controlled King. He’d been
determined to know her even before he tasted her lips.

He only meant to sip and learn her ways. But the first kiss caused

a conflagration of burning need. So, he waited till her act was over,
paid the saloon owner to keep the actors around for the rest of the

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week, and set about creating a home for her before she could
disappear.

She was a siren. He would have married her and taken her to his

ranch if he thought she’d go. Instead, he tried to give her everything
she could ever want so she’d stay with him.

He had a moment of uneasiness as he remembered the other

woman in his life. His mother took it upon herself once, in the first
year of his courtship, to visit Anna at the Silver Dollar Hotel. Neither
woman volunteered the particulars, but from the tight lips after, he
deduced it hadn’t gone well.

King settled his hat tighter on his head and straightened his gun

belt, scared he’d get it wrong. He was thirty-two and looked forty. He
had a crooked nose, a bad temper, and a pain-in-the-ass mother. He
always figured his money and power outweighed those
considerations, but clearly, Anna didn’t agree. He didn’t know what
to say to convince her he was the only man for her.

King started to enter the suite, pausing when he heard a male

voice from within. A flash of fury accompanied him into the room to
confront Anna and the Travelers’ owner, Tommy. The actor-manager
reclined on the Queen Anne couch Anna would never let King put his
feet on. Tommy was stretched out, boots and all.

“Now just a minute, Anna,” King started with a bluster. Then he

switched his wrath to the actor. “Get your goddamned feet off my
settee.”

“Why you ungrateful wretch,” Anna rounded on him and scolded.

“Tommy risked his life to save yours. He most certainly can put his
feet up. The doctor says he will be well enough to travel with the
troupe to San Francisco, but until then, Tommy stays here.”

Tommy swung his legs off the couch and stood up, wobbling

dramatically. King scowled at him but then wiped that from his face
when he saw the bandages and swollen nose. “What the hell happened
to you?”

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It was tempting to talk to the actor instead of Anna. King

suspected it would be easier to iron out their differences than those
that festered between him and his lover.

“I’ll let Anna tell you, King. Meanwhile,” Tommy tipped an

imaginary hat at the two of them. “You folks have talking to do.
Excuse me.” And he left.

Anna motioned King toward the bedroom. On the bed he and

Anna shared just hours before lay a bundle of kicking legs and
waving arms. Anna crossed to the bed and picked up the baby, and
King’s heart did a flip-flop as he listened to his woman making those
mother sounds again.

He looked at Anna and offered her his heart. “I’d be proud if you

would do me the honor of being my wife.” When she didn’t respond
immediately, he continued, “I love you.”

And then she smiled, and his heart started to beat again. “I love

you, too. And she’s named after her daddy, King Henry Colton.”

“But…” He was bewildered, dumbstruck, and filled with the

beginning of hope.

“You were never big. You were never, you know…” His voice

dribbled off as he guiltily remembered how she burst into tears when
he once asked if she put on weight.

“You were never sick or anything.” He looked at the baby who

was the obvious product and shook his head bewildered. “Were you?”

“I was sick for four months, Henry Colton,” she snapped,

frowning at him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” It seemed a fair question.
But when she instantly responded, “When?” he remembered they

agreed she’d been neglected. Still, he had the advantage of being
wronged, or he might.

“You were going to leave me and take my baby, too, without a

word?” Outrage deepened his voice into a growl of menace. Men his
size would have stepped back.

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Anna stepped closer. “And do you want babies? You never

mentioned it to me.” She peered up into his face as though she could
read his thoughts.

He liked the way she said babies, as if there might be more of

them sometime in the future. King couldn’t tell from one moment to
the next whether she was still mad at him or if he was forgiven. But if
Anna said the baby was his daughter and belonged to him, then he
was a happy man.

“Well, hell yeah, girl. I want the works, but this business of me

putting you up in town while I’m still on the ranch is at an end. We’re
getting spliced, and you’re coming home with me.” He could hear his
voice rise into belligerence instead of the calm reason he needed right
now.

“I don’t believe I’ve accepted your proposal, Hank Colton, so you

can just forget ordering me around. I have conditions.”

“What kind of conditions?” he bristled.
Anna held up one finger. “Every year, we will make a trip to San

Francisco and visit the theater.”

He drew back to protest. “Now, Anna, I have a ranch to run and

business to see-to. How do you think I hold onto my land?”

“How do I know you won’t take us to King’s Hold and forget

about us there, too?” Anna jostled the baby in her arms and waited
expectantly for his answer.

“Why’d you come back if things were so bad for you here?” He

knew he should be conciliatory, but stiff-necked pride wouldn’t let
him humble himself any more than he’d already done this day.

It was a sign of warning when those two tiny lines that signaled

anger appeared on Anna’s forehead. King surrendered. “Okay, a trip
to San Francisco.” There was business to be conducted on the West
Coast as much as the East, so he relaxed, already considering the
possibilities.

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He reached for her, but she stopped him, raising a second finger

beside the first. “Your mother and I do not agree on anything. I am
afraid…”

“You don’t have to worry about that at all. Once she knew you

were gone, it’s been hell keeping her from moving in here. She’s
taken a liking to the way you decorate. So now, she’ll get her wish.”
That thought did bring a smile to King’s face as he contemplated that
female adjustment.

The baby burped and made a noise indicating she expected

attention. “Maybe you should do something. I don’t think she’s
happy…” Anna had another finger in the air, and his attention was
split between the unhappy female in her arms and the one making
demands.

“And I’ll be painted in my Hamlet costume, a portrait to hang

over the fireplace mantle you told me about but I’ve never seen.”

No doubt about it, she was still pissed. “Hell, I would have taken

you there in a minute if you’d let me know you wanted to go.” He
needed to find something to give her. The picture would be great.

“Why, sweetheart, I think that’s a good idea.” He felt his genial

smile sour as he remembered the tight breeches and molded vest Anna
had worn.

He could see by the stubborn look on her face that this might be a

deal breaker, so he negotiated. “Honey, I’d rather it hung right over
the fireplace in our bedroom. I can look at you while we fuck.”

“You’ll have to clean up your impure words, King Colton. We

have a child to be thought of now.” She scolded him, but he sensed a
weakening in her anger and moved to close the deal.

The baby emitted what King could only call a squall, and not

ready for the interruption, he lifted her from Anna’s arms and jostled
her soothingly like he’d seen Anna do. The bundle stopped squalling,
and he looked at his baby’s mother triumphantly.

“Come here.” It was a little difficult situating the kid so she didn’t

get squashed between them as Anna melted in his arms. When his lips

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brushed hers, he groaned. “I love you so Goddamned much I can’t
live without you, girl. I need you to come back to me.”

“Oh.” It was the softest breath of sound she made as she nestled

into his arms.

“I tried to leave,” she whispered up at him. Tears glistened on her

eyelashes at the same time her voice trembled. “I fell in love with
you, King, and I had to come back to see you, just one more time.”

King felt the sap of life rise and fill his soul with joy. He grinned

knowing that he was King Colton in charge again. Anna was his. He
reached to unwind the blankets for a better look at the contents of the
bundle in his arms. “Let me see this young lady. Let me see my
daughter.”

Without releasing Anna, he peered down. “What did we name

her?” When he looked into the face of the girl child, flint gray eyes
dared him to look away.

Her nose was already a prominent point on her face, and even in

his delight at his recognizable brand, he groaned. “Damn, she looks
just like me, cranky and sometimes hard to please, huh?” He stared
into eyes that mirrored his own. “What did you say we named her?”

“Henrietta Julep Colton,” Anna replied dryly, “Princess, to those

of us who have already experienced her royal commands.”

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Epilogue

1892 New York Winter Garden Theater


“Here, thou incestuous, murderous, damned Dane, Drink off this

potion. Is thy union here? Follow my mother.”

Hamlet’s voice mesmerized the audience as he slew the King who

destroyed his life. Then the lead actor staggered across the stage.

“Oh, good Horatio…If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart;

Absent thee from felicity awhile, And in this harsh world draw thy
breath in pain, To tell my story.”

Anna Colton leaned forward in her seat, repeating the words along

with the actor on stage. The curtain closed once and then reopened as
the cast of players assembled to take their bows.

As one, the audience surged to its feet, paying tribute to the

magnificent performance of the woman who so skillfully played the
melancholy Dane.

“Oh, my dear,” Anna’s mother-in-law whispered. “That could

have been you.” Catherine Colton traveled with her son,
granddaughter, and Anna to New York just for this moment.

Anna smiled at her mother-in-law, who had become her

staunchest friend and supporter. When Hank brought his new wife
home to the ranch five years before, carrying their daughter proudly
in his arms, his mother exclaimed, “Well, it’s about time, Henry
Colton.”

And then she turned to Anna and said, “I thought you’d never get

around to reeling him in. You won’t need that fancy apartment now.

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I’d be pleased to move there and let you two set up housekeeping
without me here to get in the way.”

It was an amazing show of civility from a woman Anna expected

to protest. They’d developed an amicable relationship that included
yearly trips to San Francisco to visit Anna’s friends and enjoy
elaborate shopping excursions.

But it was King Colton who brought home the newspaper

accounts of the London Stage Company’s performance of Hamlet
brought to the American stage by the greatest actress in the world,
Sarah Bernhardt. Then he insisted that Anna’s birthday gift that year
would be a box seat view of the performance.

“Besides,” he’d admitted with a grin, “I need to refresh my

Hereford bloodlines. I’ll be looking at cattle when we travel back
East, too.”

“Mama,” the dark haired child standing on the seat between Anna

and Catherine patted her arm, “I’m going to be an actor,” she
announced. “Someday, I’m going to get to wear funny clothes and
stab people with a sword like them.”

Now, miles away from the world he knew, King Colton, dressed

in black tuxedo and to Anna’s eye, the handsomest man in the room,
was just as assured and impressive here as in Texas. He smiled at his
daughter and said, “Your Mama was a great actress. That’s how I met
her. She spoke her lines, and I couldn’t resist her siren call.”

He slid his hand down Anna’s back and circled her waist, giving it

a possessive squeeze. “You tired?” he murmured in her ear.

Anna’s “No” brought a devilish grin to his face, and he nipped her

ear, whispering softly, “You’re gonna be.”

* * * *


King unbuttoned his shirt and watched Anna as she stood in front

of the elegant boudoir table mirror brushing her hair.

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She wore an expensive imported nightgown he bought just for this

trip. “Just thinkin’ about that sheer nightie had me half crazy tonight,”
he told her.

She unpacked the seductive lingerie and laid it on their hotel bed

right before they left for the theater.

Anna set the brush on the night table and picked up the scented

cream she brought to rub into her skin. She dipped two fingers into
the mixture, rubbed her hands together, and smoothed it over her neck
and chest before seductively spreading it lower.

“Cup your tits for me, sweetheart.” Hank’s voice was a gravelly

rasp. She smiled at him in the mirror and pushed the sheer fabric from
her shoulders to display the pink tipped globes.

As he watched her reflection, she grasped her nipples and twirled

them erotically, pulling on the ends to extend and pinch them, teasing
herself as much as him.

Deliberately, he removed shoes, socks, and then padded barefoot

and bare-chested to stand behind her. He wanted to inhale her, to own
her as no man had ever claimed a woman before. But he learned daily
not to declare proprietary rights around this magnificent creature
whom he adored.

“Let me do that for you, sweetheart.” Hank dipped his fingers in

the cream that melted on her flesh from the heat of passion that
already raged between them. “Oh, baby, let me play with these a
while. You just get on with your primping.”

Anna’s gaze met his as he stroked her flesh and made her wanton.

In the mirror, her nipples were stiffly pointing as he lowered his head
to nibble her neck while he took charge of pleasuring the distended
peaks.

“What do you want me to do to you?” His lips roamed up her

neck and stopped to explore the soft lobe of her ear. He took it
between his teeth and nipped. At the same time, he pinched her
nipples and pulled on them.

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When she didn’t answer but leaned back letting the tug on her tits

bring her more pleasure, he watched and continued his leisurely
exploration. His tongue traced a trail around the shell of her ear while
he twirled her nipples and pulled hard.

“You got some honey for me?” he whispered. “Let me taste you

and see.”

He pulled the fancy bench closer and sat Anna on it, releasing her

breasts to lift the filmy peignoir. On display in the mirror were her
thighs, topped by the neatly trimmed red thatch that never failed to
excite lust in him. “Spread ‘em,” he ordered her.

Silently, she obeyed, but the flush of her skin and extended

nipples contradicted her seeming control. He dropped between her
parted legs and leaned close, inhaling her aroma. “Baby, I think you
need Daddy to tend your pussy a little.”

He parted the lips of her sex and murmured his words into the

silken flesh that glistened with evidence of her desire. The outer folds
of her cleft were already swollen with want.

“Yep.” His tongue flicked her pearl, and she reached for his

shoulders, but he smacked her ass and caught her hands putting them
on the seat of the stool.

“Watch,” he ordered.
He caught her clit in his teeth and then sucked on it, eating the

pussy juice that flooded for him, giving him the honey he’d craved all
day. He lapped from clit to hole and then back to her clit to resume
sucking and nibbling. Anna moaned and leaned back, arching her
pelvis into his attentions.

He shouldered her legs farther apart and buried his face in her

flesh as his tongue plunged through her entrance, pressing against her
soft folds, brushing against her clit with each thrust. Her internal
muscles clenched hard, and he pushed deeper, rubbing is nose against
the bundle of nerves that stood taught, begging for his touch.

Her climax rushed through her and she bucked under his mouth as

he suckled the cascade of cum from her pussy and then licked back to

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her clit, nuzzling it gently before he stood and put his hands on her
shoulders. Anna leaned against him, their eyes caught in a mirrored
glance as they both savored her release.

Do you have any regrets?” King Colton loved this woman and

spent the best part of the last five years showing her how much. He’d
never let her go, but he still wanted assurances that being his wife was
a big enough role to satisfy her.

He watched Anna at the play mouthing Hamlet’s lines, and was

afraid she regretted her choices. “Mother was right. That could have
been you.”

* * * *


Anna pulled Hank to stand before the bench so his side faced the

mirror. She ignored his question and released the cock that had been
straining against the confines of the black tuxedo pants. Smiling, she
licked the drop of white cream that seeped from the tiny slit in the
end.

“I think I’m hungry, too,” she purred, and lapped the bulbous,

weeping end before settling her lips around it. Her tongue teased his
swollen flesh, and she felt him shudder under her ministrations.

Then, Anna tilted her head, sliding his thick cock down her throat

in a practiced maneuver that elicited a groaned, “Damn.” At the same
time, King cradled her face, fucking her mouth as she pleasured him.

She swallowed his length, letting her throat work around him to

caress the heavy rod, before pulling back to plunge it deep again. His
balls were drawn high and full, ready to explode as she slid her
tongue and lips up and down his flesh and sipped the pre-ejaculate
that leaked from him.

Anna withdrew his cock from her mouth and grasped his length in

her hands, pumping him as she slid to the floor, all the while gazing
up at the man who had become her life. “Spread ‘em,” she ordered
him. Their eyes met, his crinkled with humor and lust.

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72

Gem Sivad

After she admired the heavily engorged display of manhood, she

settled her lips around his left testicle, gently mouthing it, rolling and
tasting and tonguing. She was as thorough in her play as Hank had
been. Her hand pumped up and down on his erection as he trembled
and fought to hold back his release.

When the tight sack swelled even fuller and his butt cheeks began

to clench, Anna sat up in time to catch the head of his cock between
her lips, catching the first spurts of cream that jetted out. She suckled,
eating him, swallowing the ejaculate as fast as he gave it to her, until
his release slowed to a trickle.

Then she rubbed his cock over her lips one last time, savoring the

final drops of his seed. He lifted her to her feet, drawing her into his
arms to cover her mouth with his own.

It didn’t surprise Anna that the passion was as strong between

them now as it had been when she first saw him in the Sparrow Creek
saloon. Hank Colton was the answer to all of her dreams. Did she
have regrets?

She pulled him over to the bed to show him one of her best

performances. Hers was the role of a lifetime—lover, ranch wife,
sophisticated companion, hostess at Hank’s increasingly important
political meetings, and always, devoted mother.

When they sprawled together on the mattress, he came over her at

once, already erect and ready to pleasure her again. “I love you, Hank
Colton.”

He parted her legs and thrust home, sliding through the hot flesh

of her pussy to touch her womb. Her inner flesh pulsed and clenched
around his hard length, squeezing as he withdrew and then thrust
again.

He braced himself above her, cock lodged high, nudging her

sweet spot at the same time his groin brushed her clit. “Regrets?”

Her soft laughter jarred his hard length, knocking it against her

womb as she giggled. “One,” she told him.

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A Staged Affair

73

He went still, concern written all over his face. “What can I do to

make that problem go away?” he asked her. And she knew it was true.
Hank Colton made her the most spoiled woman in Texas, and he’d
give her anything she wanted, including a career as an actress even if
it broke his heart.

She pulled him down at the same time she wiggled her hips,

taking his cock deeper as she wrapped her legs around him.

“I want you to fuck me so deep I can taste you again,” she

whispered in his ear. “But, this time I want you to leave another Julep
inside.”

His hand under her rump trembled just a bit. “Sweetheart, I think I

can fix you right up. Anytime you want that, I’m your man.”

“Yes, you are, King Colton,” she told him, “and you always will

be.” Anna sighed under the caress of his body as he rocked against
her groin, pressing deep to flood her with seed. “I love you,” she told
him again, stroking her hand up and down the hard muscled back as
he curled contentedly in her arms.

“You sure?” he teased her softly. “Because I’m no actor, but I

plan to spend the next fifty years or so making sure you’re the lead in
every scene of my life. Honey, I don’t ever want you to regret giving
up the stage to be the wife of a saddle bum.”

Anna purred contentedly. “Texas is our stage,” she assured him.

“And you will always be my leading man.”

 

THE END

http://www.gemsivad.com

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AUTHOR’S NOTE


I have taken liberties with the time period in which Sarah

Bernhardt performed at the New York Winter Garden Theater. The
greatly acclaimed actress did not appear there until 1899, playing the
melancholy Dane in Shakespeare’s Hamlet.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Gem Sivad pens stories that sizzle and burn, creating strong
relationships between characters, one passionate encounter at a
time. She believes that in both good times and bad, sex heats the
flesh, but love warms the spirit. It’s all about body and soul
romance in Gem’s books.

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Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

 


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