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Authors: Leda Swann

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BOOK: Stand and Deliver
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“Your father…” She turned away from Bess’ gaze.

“Your father is not real y your father.”

 

Bess gaped at her open-mouthed, too surprised to say anything. Was her mother real y tel ing the truth? The man who had dandled her on his knee as a child, who had treated her with kindness and affection, who she cal ed papa, he was not her father? “D-Does he…?” she final y managed to stammer.

 

Her mother gave her a sad smile. “Yes, he knows very wel . That is why I married him, you see. He is even grateful to you, I believe. Your conception made me accept his suit when al his pleading on his own behalf had failed.”

 

“So, who…?”

 

“I was barely seventeen, a young woman with stars in my eyes. None of the local lads pleased me, though I had plenty swarming around me.” She gestured wryly at her ample hips. “You’d hardly believe it now, but I was pretty enough back then, and being my father’s only child, it was wel known that I would take over the inn when he passed away. It was a good dowry to have, bigger than any other girl in the vil age could boast of. But I dreamed of bigger and better things. Of leaving the vil age and going even so far as London one day.” She shook her head. “Foolish dreams for a foolish young woman who ought to have known better, that’s al they were.

 

“Then a man came to stay at the inn one night. Quality, he was, by the cut of his clothes and the gold jingling in his pockets. He charmed his way into my bed with pretty words and empty compliments. I thought I was in love. But after he rode away the next morning, I never saw him again.” She heaved a sigh. “Do not fol ow in my footsteps, Bess. Do not fal in love with a man who wil ride away from you without so much as a backward glance.”

 

“I am not in love with Jack,” Bess protested. She had asked for nothing from him. She expected nothing from him. When he rode away, her heart would be bruised, maybe, but never broken. She would al ow no man such power over her as that.

 

Her mother stood up, picked up her kitchen knife and started to chop the carrots that waited to be made into tonight’s dinner. “Take your pick among your suitors before you have a choice forced on you. You wil be the happier for it.”

 

Bess moved behind her mother and took her in her arms, resting her head on her mother’s shoulder. “I am not unhappy, mother. I know that Jack wil leave.”

 

The chopping of carrots halted for a moment. “But it does not change the way you feel about him.” A statement, not a question.

 

“No, mother. Knowing that he wil leave soon does not change the way I feel about him right now.”

 

Her mother’s shoulders stiffened in her embrace. “I feared as much. Just be careful, Bess. I would not have you hurt as I was hurt.”

 

“I wil be careful, mother. I promise you that much.”

 

Jack could not resist the promise in Bess’ eyes.

Though he might not deserve it, though he could give her nothing in return, stil he could not resist her silent offer.

“Come for a walk with me.”

 

She shot a look at her mother, a pleading look, but her mother continued to bustle around the tables, deliberately oblivious to the unspoken plea. She shook her head slowly, hesitantly. “I can’t. I have work to do.”

 

He caught her hand in his, tracing a line on her palm with his finger, a sensual taste of al he wanted to share with her. “Al work and no play makes Jack a dul boy.”

 

From the corner of his eye, he saw her mother’s lips twitch into an almost smile. He sprang to his feet and made her a courtly bow. “Madam Burroughs, surely you wil have the goodness to al ow me a few stolen moments of your daughter’s company this fine morning.”

 

“And what do you propose to do with my daughter?”

Her voice held no laughter.

 

Lie her on her back on the grass and fuck her until we both col apse with pleasure. “We shal pick blackberries and bring them back for a pie for supper.”

 

The older woman looked askance at his clothes. “You wil stain your breeches with the juice.”

 

He shrugged easily. “Then I wil have to buy a new pair.”

 

“Leather breeches as fine as yours do not come cheaply.”

 

“They are naught but clothes. I would ruin twenty such pairs for a morning in Bess’ company.”

 

Bess’ mother shook her head in exasperation and shooed her apron at him. “Off you go, then, the pair of you.

But mind, I want a ful pail of blackberries by dinnertime, or I wil be having words with both of you.”

 

“Thank you, madam. Your kindness knows no bounds.”

Then, before she could change her mind or cal her daughter back for some last minute chore, he took Bess by the hand and pul ed her out of the parlor and into the warm autumn sunshine.

 

Bess squeezed Jack’s hand in hers as she hurried through the cobbled yard. “My mother does not trust you.”

 

His grin would have put a wolf to shame. “I would not trust me, either.”

 

“You would not ever hurt me.” She had put herself in his power last night and he had given her nothing but pleasure.

 

“Not unless you wanted me to.”

 

She stopped walking and looked up at him curiously.

“Why would I want you to do that?”

 

“There are some people who believe that a little pain heightens their pleasure. A bite on the shoulder in the throes of passion, or the touch of a whip expertly applied, with just the right amount of force to tantalize, but not to torment. Or maybe a pinch on the backside.”

 

His hand sneaked across her back and dropped to her bottom, pinching a bit of her skin between his thumb and forefinger and giving it a sharp tweak.

 

She gave a surprised squeak and slapped his hand away.

 

Tim, the young stable boy, was currying a bay roan by the water pump in the yard. He looked up, startled at the noise she made. She gave him a sunny smile as she passed and he returned it with a shy one of his own.

 

Jack tugged on her hand impatiently. “One of your admirers?”

 

“Tim?” She shook her head. “He’s just a boy.”

 

“Just as wel , or I might have had to give you a taste of my whip for flirting with other men while you are with me.”

 

Now Jack was being ridiculous. A simple smile was al she had given the lad, and that only out of good nature. “I was not flirting with him.”

 

“More’s the pity.” That wolfish grin was back again. “I wil have to find another excuse to see if a little taste of my whip wil heighten your pleasure while I fuck you. I am sure I can find some reason to punish a naughty young woman like you. A reason to tie you up on my bed and tease you with my fingers and my mouth and my whip until you beg for mercy.”

 

The thought of Jack tickling her lightly with his whip as she lay spread-eagled on the bed in front of him, powerless to stop him, made her hot with desire. She could feel herself growing wet between her legs, wanting his cock inside her again. As best as she could, she squelched the desire that was building up inside her. Not until night fel and the whole household was asleep could she make her way to Jack’s bed again. She had better concentrate on the task at hand and not let herself be distracted by Jack’s nearness or the intoxicating maleness of him.

 

Stopping at the entrance to the yard, she looked out into the narrow, rutted lane. “We’l find better blackberries if we walk toward the vil age.”

 

He took her hand and pul ed her in the opposite direction. “I don’t give a damn about the blackberries. I just wanted to spend the morning with you.”

 

“You could have talked to me while I worked,” she said primly, though she matched her steps to his quickly enough.

As soon as they were out of sight of the inn, she would be able to let him steal a kiss.

 

“Under your mother’s eagle eye?” He pul ed a face.

“And what would we have talked about? The way my cock stands to attention every time I catch a glimpse of you? The wetness of your pussy when I dabbled my fingers—and more—in it last night? How I want to bend you over right here in the lane and take you again?”

 

She’d thought last night that he had sated her appetite, so how was it that she was hungrier for him than ever this morning? “I wil never be able to keep my mind on blackberries if you keep talking this way,” she complained.

 

Walking quickly, they had already turned the corner in the lane that put them out of sight of the inn yard. He stopped by a smal copse of trees and ran one hand over her front. Her breasts tingled at his touch, her nipples puckering into hard buds. “You want me just as much as I want you.” He pushed his way through the undergrowth and into the middle of the trees. “Come, none wil see us here.”

 

Bess pushed her way in beside him. Suddenly, nothing in the world mattered to her but slaking her desire for Jack.

She would risk being caught out in the open, she would even brave her mother’s certain anger, just to touch Jack’s naked body once more.

 

The sunlight dappled through the trees, shining on the soft green moss at the base of the trunks. A light breeze ruffled the leaves, sending whispers of sound floating through the air. As she stood in Jack’s arms, her head upturned for his kiss, the rest of the world disappeared.

Nothing existed but the two of them.

 

Without conscious thought, her hands moved to the buttons of her bodice, unfastening her clothing and letting it fal to the ground. There would be no waiting for the night to fal . She wanted Jack and she wanted him now.

Chapter Three

Tim, the stable boy, hid behind a tree, watching the scene unfold before his eyes.

 

He’d been right to fol ow them. As soon as he saw the stranger, he’d known that he was up to no good, that he harbored evil designs on Bess. Bess herself had not wanted to go with the stranger, he knew. He’d heard her quiet shriek as they walked across the yard, and the look of startled fear that had momentarily passed across her face.

She was scared and the stranger was forcing her to go with him. There was no time for cowardice or for hesitation. She was in danger. It was up to him to save her.

 

Tying the horse he had been currying up to a post, he’d sneaked after them, taking care to keep enough of a distance behind them so they could not hear him. He’d turned the corner just in time to see the stranger pul Bess into the trees by the side of the lane.

 

She must be too frightened to scream, he thought. The poor girl was not to know that he was there ready to save her.

 

There was no sense in giving the game away and rushing after them. No, a proper rescue would need an element of surprise. It was a pity he had not stopped to pick up a weapon before hurrying after them, but he would find a solid stick of wood and carry that. A blow to the head with a decent-sized log and the stranger would no longer pose a threat to anyone.

 

The muffled sound of voices distracted him from his search. Ah, there they were, the two of them, in a tiny clearing where the trees thinned out enough to let a patch of sunlight through.

 

And the stranger was kissing Bess, his beautiful Bess, and ripping away her bodice with his eager hands, letting her breasts swing free in the sunlight.

 

Tim swal owed convulsively. Many was the time he’d gone to sleep in the hayloft above the stable with one hand in his breeches and the thought of Bess’ bare breasts in his head. Just the thought of seeing them, let alone touching them, had been enough to make him come in his pants time after time.

 

And here was the stranger treating with casual affection what Tim had worshipped from afar for so many months.

 

No, for years.

 

He’d been fascinated with Bess’ breasts from the day he’d first started work in the stables. Luscious, plump and white, she would flaunt them at every man who came to drink at her father’s inn. But woe betide the man who tried to touch her. He’d seen her deck more than one of them with a swift blow if he’d tried to get over-friendly.

 

In his most optimistic moments, Tim had hoped she was saving herself for him, that she had seen the way he worshipped the ground she walked on, and was confessing her love for him by dismissing al her other suitors.

 

He was nearly as old as she was—just turned eighteen —and though he was smal for his age, he was stil a man with a man’s needs and a man’s desires. His Bess, he was sure, would not look down on him for being younger than her. She would not care that he stood half a head shorter or that his shoulders were stil thin and hunched slightly. No, Bess would see through al that to the shining love that lay inside him. One day, he was sure, she would come to love him as deeply and as truly as he loved her.

 

So, what was she doing letting a stranger paw her breasts? She belonged to him and to no other. He would not let her play the whore with another man.

 

He grabbed a fal en stick firmly in his hands. It was lighter than he would have liked, and hol ow with rot, but no matter. Right would win over might every time.

BOOK: Stand and Deliver
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