They are starving…
Marie Therese O’Sullivan, soon to be known as Topaz for her golden brown eyes and hair, is willing to do anything to save her family from the Great Hunger in Ireland, including travel in steerage all the way to faraway America and then by rail and wagon train to the West Coat where a job awaits. If she can earn a little money to send home, she’ll do any job. If only the advertisement had a little more information about what the job required…
The Gold Rush is good for business…
And Dirk Clemens’ business is acting as wagon master for groups of these intrepid travelers willing to face every danger possible crossing the plains, deserts and mountains to have a chance to get their share of the gold. He doesn’t mind the occasional night with a willing woman but avoids innocents like Marie Therese O’Sullivan like the plague. Defiling virgins is not good for business. And this virgin needs rescuing every time he turns around.
A deadly storm throws them together…
And the spark between them flares into flame, making the virgin issue moot. But it’s only the first disaster they face together and from which he must rescue her. The greatest awaits them on their arrival in California where the worst happens. To both of them. Madam Jewel and Gabriel Vasquez of the Red Petticoat Saloon offer shelter to so many orphans of the storm, but Topaz has been through so much. Perhaps her fire has been quenched.
DISCLAIMER: This books contains the spanking of adult women and explicit sexual scenes. If any of these offend you, please do not purchase this book.
Her head quite spun when Mr. Clemens kissed her, more so when he pushed his tongue into her mouth. She should be scandalized or disgusted, but a spear of heat shot to the center of her belly, and she squirmed in discomfort at the heat between her thighs.
What was this feeling? Oh sinful! He pushed her skirts to up to reveal more of her than any man outside the family had seen since her birth and she had a moment of gratitude for the fashion preventing him from seeing her bare legs. If he’d only stop kissing her for a moment so she could get her breath and tell him no. To stop.
But she didn’t really want him to, did she? Yes, of course she did. But his kisses dizzied her, and his big calloused hand slid up her muslin-covered thigh to the opening in her drawers and cupped her. She shivered, his kisses going on and on while his fingers worked inside the slit and touched her bare flesh. Oh, how could it be so slippery? She squeezed her eyes closed, but the brilliant lightning pierced the darkness even now. She didn’t belong here, with a man alone, with his hands on her unmentionable parts. And it shouldn’t feel so good.
Surely the devil possessed her to open her eyes again and watch his face, not to ask him to stop even when he stopped kissing her and knelt back to unbutton his pants and his long johns. She’d changed the dirty napkins on her little brothers and knew what should be between a man’s legs, in theory, but the pole jutting toward her in the bright flash was as big as the one on the horse in the field behind the farmhouse down the road.
Surely it was a deformity to be so large. He’d fair split her asunder if she let him touch her. Terror stilled her voice as he positioned himself with the head of his rod at her woman’s parts and bent to take her mouth again. He murmured something before his tongue plunged inside, silencing any objections.
Kate Richards divides her time between Los Angeles and the High Sierras. She would gladly spend all her days in the mountains, but she’d miss the beach…and her very supportive husband’s commute would be three hundred miles. Wherever she is, she loves to explore all different kinds of relationships in her stories. She doesn’t believe one-size-fits-all, and whether her characters live BDSM, ménage, GLBT, spanking, or any other kind of lifestyle, it’s the love, the joy in one another, that counts.
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