Barefoot Bride for Three (17 page)

As an Elliott, Simon never backed away from anything, especially with a brother. Sometimes a good fight was just what they needed to clear the air. Women didn’t understand that, so he answered Jack rather than start something that would make Beth angry and wreck all the good will he’d spent the day creating.

“The floor was so dirty she had to slosh water over it. Her dress got all wet, and she had nothing underneath.”

“Hot damn, and all I got was a couple extra biscuits.” Jack slammed his right fist against his left palm. “I’m going to fill up the water reservoir on the stove so she can have a bath tonight.”

“Already did that.” Simon lifted a challenging eyebrow.

“Then I’ll chop some kindling so she can light the stove.” Jack stepped closer to Simon.

“Done that, too.”

“You leave me anything to impress her?”

“Yep, something that suits you perfectly. Spreading lime and ash down the hole to kill the stink. Not that you’d notice it.”

“For that, I’m gonna clean your plow. Again.”

Simon snorted in disbelief as Jack started unbuttoning his shirt. Ma always whupped them for the extra work it caused her to repair the damage so they’d learned early to take their shirts off before they went at it.

“Funny, I remember it the other way around.”

Women didn’t understand that when he couldn’t take her to bed, the next best thing was a free-for-all.

“You jackass, fighting would get Beth so mad she might refuse to serve supper. I’m not gonna chance it.”

Jack scowled and stopped with his shirt half way undone.

“How long you think before she gives herself to all of us?”

“It’s already too long,” muttered Simon.

“I got an idea.” Jack moved closer and dropped his voice. “What if we tease her, get her all riled up, stop just short of her release then do it over again? If she’s as frustrated as us she’ll give in pretty damn quick.”

“You going to tell the brand-new bridegroom that?”

“Tell me what?”

Simon reached for the pistol he’d left upstairs before he recognized Trace’s croak. Letting someone sneak up on him proved what thinking about a woman did to a man’s survival skills.

Trace took a good look at the trench before turning to Simon. “You think building Beth her own privy will make her haul you into bed?”

“Nope, but Jack thinks keeping her on the edge will encourage a quick and enjoyable decision,” explained Simon.

Trace screwed up his face. “Hell, no! Not if I have to go without.”

“Dammit, man, we’re hurting something awful!” Jack grimaced and pulled at the tent in his rough canvas pants.

“So am I and it’s only been since this morning,” replied Trace.

“Dang it man, don’t boast about it to us!”

“Yeah, and if we go without, so can you. Got it?” Jack jammed his trigger finger against Trace’s chest.

The clang-clang-clang of a triangle called them to supper. Trace waved his hat at Beth, standing on the porch up the hill from them. She waved back with her arm and went inside.

“I’ll think on it while we eat. Simon, change your shirt before you sit at Beth’s table. Jack, do yours up.”

* * * *

Jack contemplated stripping and jumping in the creek to cool his swollen cock, but he was too hungry to take the time. The relief would only be temporary as one look at Beth and he’d be just as hard again. He pushed it out of his mind and concentrated on his stomach rather than parts south as he washed his hands and face beside his brothers.

Over the years they’d shared everything, even the painful need for release. But unless something happened, tonight Trace would take Beth to bed, again. He’d have to lie in the barn and listen to Beth’s orgasmic screams. He’d grip his cock along with her cries of release then grit his teeth and try to sleep.

All three of them shucked their boots at the open door and hung their hats on pegs. Jack moaned just as loud as the others when he inhaled the savory aroma drifting past his nose.

“I lost track of time cleaning so it’s only beans and bacon for supper,” said Beth. She lifted her chin as if unsure of their reaction but determined to follow through anyway.

“Smells mighty good,” said Trace. He glared over his shoulder, sending a silent, unnecessary message. Considering the barely edible grub they’d put up with for years, neither he nor Simon would dare to say a word of complaint.

Jack stood beside Simon at the bench and waited as Trace seated Beth. Knowing his brothers were hurting, Trace still nibbled Beth’s ear, dang it! She flushed and crossed her arms but not before Jack saw two bumps rising from her chest.

Last night he’d taken the left one in his mouth, savoring it like a starving man. He could still taste her skin, could feel the way she stiffened under his hands when she gasped and went rigid. Someday, God let it be soon, he would be the one pumping into her while she screamed his name.

“You hungry or not?” An elbow in his ribs knocked him back to reality. He automatically struck out with his right hand, punching Simon in the upper arm. Something whacked him on his left knuckles. He whipped his head around to find Beth glaring at him, serving spoon covered in beans raised high.

“No fisticuffs in my kitchen!”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jack licked the beans off his knuckles and kicked Simon under the table. He winced when his bootless foot caught the sturdy wooden table leg instead. Simon snickered but Jack was so hungry for decent food that he ignored his twin and dug in. There’d be time later for payback.

Beth had added onion and some sort of greens to the beans and bacon and turned it into something like he’d find in Sophie’s dining room in town. He took longer eating the second bowl. Even the cornbread, something so quick and easy even he could cook it, tasted far better thanks to Beth. He wiped out his bowl with the last of the cornbread and sighed. If his cock wasn’t happy, at least his belly was.

“Since Beth made dinner we’ve got an extra hour before evening chores,” said Simon. “We could cover the trench with those warped boards we took off the barn.”

“Simon decided you needed your own privy,” said Trace to Beth as she picked up Simon’s empty bowl. She smiled like a blonde angel. Trace shoved his bench back and stood. “You can thank him later. We’d better get to it while there’s still light.”

For once Jack was glad he was the youngest and always had to go last. He carried his bowl and coffee mug to the pile of dishes, which happened to be near Beth.

“Thank you for a wonderful meal, Mrs. Elliott.” He placed a hand lightly on her waist and kissed her forehead. He breathed in her scent, torturing himself, then walked out and quietly shut the door. He was so hard it hurt to bend over and tie his boots but the stolen kiss was worth it.

* * * *

“We should be able to finish the job tomorrow,” said Trace to Beth as he dried his hands on the towel she held. “I have to ride up to the ridge in the morning, but we’ve got enough boards cut that Sy and Jack can at least put up a few walls.”

“Four walls, a roof and a door,” she corrected. Beth figured this was the only privy they’d build her so she’d better put her demands front and center before they started taking her for granted.

“Yes, ma’am,” said Simon. Jack, shoulder against the wall opposite his twin, nodded in agreement.

Beth tugged to get her towel back but Trace held tight, wiggling his eyebrows at her. She knew what that look meant and didn’t want Trace to start anything until they were alone. She released the towel. Trace flipped it around her waist and pulled them close together.

“It’ll cost you, wife,” he said.

“One of my gold coins should be more than enough.” Beth pushed back on his chest with her palms but he just smiled down at her, unmoving.

“Your gold’s no good. Right, boys?” Trace released the towel, cupping her bottom to hold her against him.

When he began massaging her cheeks through her skirt she raised herself on her toes and tilted her hips, replying to his eager message. Jack shuffled his feet, startling and reminding her they were watching.

“Time for bed,” growled Trace.

Beth shivered. When he used that tone she knew he could barely hold himself back. She was the same, having been taunted all day by wicked thoughts. She knew Simon watched her bottom when he passed the open door as she scrubbed the floor on her hands and knees. It was hot work and she didn’t mind when a bit of rinse water splashed on her face. It felt so good she dampened her gown.

When she called Simon to empty the heavy bucket for her his eyes had caressed her breasts though the near-transparent material. They hardened at the attention, just as they did now.

“Simon, Jack, come say good night to Beth.”

Trace released her, then turned her to face the twins. She looked from one, to the other. They stared at her as if she was the only morsel of food in the wilderness and they’d gone without for weeks.

“Who’s first?”

Jack swaggered over as if daring Trace to change his mind. He stopped in front of her. “Thankee for the supper, ma’am.”

“You’re welcome, Jack.”

She tilted her head so he could kiss her temple. But he slid his arms around her waist pulling her to him as Trace had done. Once more she felt the hard ridge of a cock pressing into her belly.

She gasped, and that’s when he dropped his head to caress the side of her neck. With no moustache to tickle, she relaxed and enjoyed Jack’s nibbles. He traced a path to her throat. She tilted her head back, leaning it on Trace’s chest.

Jack’s hands moved up her ribs, his thumbs making small circles as he kissed her throat. He brought his hands forward and brushed her breasts as if by accident. She twitched. Trace reached from behind and covered them with his own hands.

“I guess that’s good night, Beth,” said Jack. He pecked her cheek and moved away. Trace moved his hands to her hips.

 
“My turn,” said Simon.

He stepped close and she automatically looked up. His eyes were more gray than green like an approaching storm.

“Remember me, the man who spent all day digging and carrying buckets for you? I certainly remember these, pointing to me through your wet dress.” He brushed the tips of her hard nipples, aroused from Trace’s touch, with the backs of his knuckles.

“Simon needs a reward for all that hard work,” whispered Trace in her ear.

* * * *

Simon looked down at the wide-eyed aroused woman before him. He didn’t have to look far, as the top of her golden head reached his nose. He inhaled a touch of roses as well as hard soap, onions and bacon. Rose-scented soap? The next time he went to town he’d make sure to buy a cake or two for her. He’d save it for the time it was
his
hands cupping her soapy body.

Starting at her nose, he laid a series of kisses across her cheek to her ear. Each slow and separate, he added the little bit of practical experience with what he’d heard.

He’d played checkers one night with Sukie, one of Miss Lily’s girls, using shot glasses instead of markers. Half way through the game Sukie began telling him how to make a woman want you no matter what. He’d slowed his moves, losing a few extra markers to learn what drove an experienced woman crazy.

He’d never had the opportunity to try it out before, but from Beth’s murmurs, she enjoyed it so far.

From her ear he curled around her jaw to her mouth. He pressed his tongue along the seam of her lips. When she opened for him he caressed her chin then held her head gently in his palms. He slid his tongue in front of her teeth under her upper lip, slow and sensuous, as if nothing else existed in the world except her.

Beth flicked her own tongue against the underside of his. Since she wanted to take an active role, he let her lead the dance. Their kisses deepened when Beth reached around and pulled him to her. When she broke off to breathe, he backed away though every part of him fought to push forward.

But Sukie said to make sure he was the one to stop. That way the woman was not quite satisfied and would want more. Sukie insisted the final reward would be worth it. With no one else to guide him, Simon followed her suggestions to the letter.

Three days ago, he’d worked long hours with nothing to look forward to at the end of the day other than lousy food followed by a lumpy mattress beside his snoring, farting twin. He had no reason to believe that life would change.

Then he looked through his spyglass and saw Beth strip and bend over the wagon wheel far below. The three of them had often gone months without a woman. Working to exhaustion all day lowered the need since they crashed into bed only to haul themselves up again a few short hours later. It was far different with a woman around to remind them of what could be.

But he would be patient if it killed him, and tonight it damn well might.

“Good night, Beth,” he said. He pressed a kiss on her forehead, nodded at Trace and followed Jack across the dark yard to the barn.