Wanted!
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Total-e-bound
www.total-e-bound.com
Copyright ©2008 by Aurora Rose Lynn
First published in www.total-e-bound.com, 2008
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NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.
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CONTENTS
Riding Shotgun
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
About the Author
Total-E-Bound Publishing
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A Total-E-Bound Publication
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www.total-e-bound.com
Wanted!
ISBN # 978-1-906811-11-2
©Copyright Aurora Rose Lynn
Cover Art by Lyn Taylor ©Copyright September 2008
Edited by Michele Paulin
Total-E-Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author's imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2008 by Total-E-Bound Publishing 1 The Corner, Faldingworth Road, Spridlington, Market Rasen, Lincolnshire, LN8 2DE, UK.
Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated Total-e-burning.
Riding Shotgun
WANTED!
Aurora Rose Lynn
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Chapter One
Plains Junction, Missouri, 1874
Maddy Haynes rode through the one-street town, keeping an eye out for any man, be he lean, mean or just ornery, who spelled trouble. Plains Junction was her town. The brothel above the saloon was quiet at this hour, the women having entertained their customers for the night and gone to bed for the day. Across the street, John's Mercantile was open for business as was the small post office with grizzly haired Gotch puttering around behind the counter.
The mid-morning sun hovered behind her, warming her back through her light-brown leather vest and cotton shirt. Some folks in the town had a problem with a lady sheriff, but she'd always sworn a woman could do exactly what a man did. Often better. She'd had no trouble keeping the law she was sworn to uphold. Courtesy of a father who had wanted a son but gotten a daughter, she'd learned to ride and, by the age of fourteen, handled a gun better than most grown men did. The Plains Junction people generally liked her although the men often cursed her behind her back for lording it over them.
Maddy kept riding, enjoying the slight breeze toying with her collar and blowing in under her shirt against her hot bare skin. Mid-July and the heat was already more oppressive than in the nearby foundry. Maddy didn't like the heat much. It reminded her of Jeb McIntryre, the only outlaw she hadn't been able to lock behind bars as he deserved.
She cantered past the Plains Junctions bank, debating whether to look in on the young clerk and the early customers. A deep, very masculine voice interrupted her orderly thoughts.
"Hey Maddy."
As her horse snorted, she spun around in the saddle, desperately searching for the owner of the voice. He didn't belong in this town. Or if he did, he belonged in her jail, locked in and with the key thrown away.
Unbelievably, she'd ached for him as she rode along buried in her thoughts. She longed to see Jeb McIntyre, the most wanted man on her list of fugitives. The shadows had been so long, and her eyes unaccustomed to the dark, sheltered places under the rickety balcony of the bank, she'd missed him!
She reined in her horse with some difficulty. The beast apparently didn't like McIntyre any more than she did, although she admitted reluctantly that that hadn't always been the case.
"Don't bother getting off your horse, Maddy,” he said, his voice holding a threat the same way a man held a gun to the head of another man. “You know I won't stick around long, and I'd be gone before you could even holler ‘sheriff'."
Maddy blinked several times. How could she have not seen him leaning against the wooden post as casually as if he belonged there? In her town? The man, if he hadn't been the most wanted, would have made her want a night or two in his bed. Dark-brown hair caught up in a ponytail with a leather band, haunting coffee-coloured eyes, a sensuous mouth she'd once kissed with erotic pleasure, and a tall, muscular frame, dressed in black. He wore his hat tipped over his face, but he couldn't hide his too male arrogance.
That's why he'd been able to slip by her unnoticed. He'd dressed to blend with the shadows. Maddy imagined his naked body pressing hers into the quilt-covered bed in her room. His rough hands scoring rivets of desire over her swollen breasts. His tongue rasping trails of molten fire up and down the tender skin of her inner thighs. She had to stop these erotic thoughts that had no hope of going anywhere.
From a dry throat, she managed, “What are you doing here?” She wanted to sound as threatening as he did, but her voice was far too breathy. Too female. Too damned needy.
"Came to see what you're up to.” He spoke as if it wasn't a big deal to walk into her town when he was wanted and thumb his nose at her.
Maddy gritted her teeth. Heck, if she could only move faster than lightning, she'd leap off her horse and arrest him. But she froze under that piercing gaze. With languid insolence he assessed her from head to toe, taking in every inch of her body and her bared soul with an irritating, easy familiarity.
Jeb's eyes roamed up and down. “Come on, Maddy. No need to be mad. Last I heard, you're not a sore loser."
"You think far too much of yourself.” He always left her breathless, feeling as if she was no longer in control. But then she'd never known anyone who could restrain wild Jeb McIntyre.
His eyebrows flickered upwards in question. He shifted from one foot to the other, calm, assured, contemptuous. “That so? Didn't seem to bother you none at Pointe Bluff."
A slow, fierce blush heated her cheeks. Her nipples peaked painfully against her shirt, and sitting astride the horse did nothing to curb the dampness between her thighs. Disturbing goose bumps prickled her arms. Damn, but she had to regain her composure in a hurry. What had happened half a year ago was the past. And a mistake. A mistake she'd never make again. McIntyre couldn't walk into her town and taunt her. She wouldn't let him. “Get out of my town, McIntyre."
At least, that had come out right. As if she meant business. Her careful appraisal of him netted her two things. The knowledge that he had a hard on the size of Texas and that the heat from her cheeks was making its way down her neck and under her collar.
"Since when is it your town?” His expression turned gentle. “This whole block and a half belongs to the people of Plains Junction."
S
he snorted. He was being facetious again. She refused to play his games or allow him to manipulate her. “Get out, or I'll haul you into my jail."
He shook his head from side to side, pushed his hat back with the back of his hand. “You know better than that, don't you, Maddy? Threatening me when you know it won't work."
Her horse pranced restlessly, eager to get back to the barn to eat. She'd die of shame if any of the good town folk learned McIntryre had been in town and she'd been helpless to do anything about it. The best she could do was give him a strong warning. “Leave town, McIntyre, and don't bother setting foot in it again. Or else I'll shoot you dead."
Not disturbed in the least, McIntyre grinned. “You wouldn't have the heart, Maddy. You know why?"
She didn't want to hear his blithe answer. But it came like a fast-flying bullet right at the gut.
"Because you want me to finish what I started."
Jeb watched the flush creep up Maddy's cheeks, up her forehead. Arousal danced in her eyes before she killed it. In the window of his mind, he could see her as she'd been that cloudy day she'd put her sheriff's badge aside before she'd learned he was an outlaw.
Her long, tousled hair the colour of wheat gold thrown with glittering sunshine had fanned out on the blanket spread under her. Her eyes so reminiscent of a cool stream under the grey winter light. Firm, high breasts.
Jeb huffed a breath and began to sweat with need. He'd sucked her rosy nipples until each one tightened into a rigid pleasure peak. As he'd skimmed his calloused hands over her waist, down her hips and into her pubic curls, he'd revelled in the sensation of masculine power.
News travelled slowly to a small town like Plains Junction. By the time he'd loved every inch of her body and she learned the dastardly news, he'd ridden into the sunset, lusting after sexy Maddy Haynes and filled with regret he was riding away from her instead of riding the pinnacles of frenzied desire between her thighs.
His mind filled overflowed with imagined scenes of Maddy's hair spilling around her face, her lips swollen with his passionate kisses, her rosy nipples pointed directly at him, her pussy dripping with her juices and his cock hilted in her wet sheath. Sweat broke out on his forehead and the back of his neck. He was in a mighty bad way if he kept thinking about the sheriff this way.
He couldn't figure out how she'd become the sheriff. She may have been as tough as leather on the outside, but in bed she'd be as sweet as nectar. Even though she had experience busting the balls of men twice her size, he'd been the first to show her a man was good for more than crime. He'd shown her a man could give a woman what she needed, then instead of imposing himself on her, he'd walked away, pure and simple. The man who wed her would certainly have his hands full. Invincible as sheriff, no doubt untamed in bed.
How could he tell her he'd come back to her town to check on her and make certain she wasn't in trouble? Jeb was well acquainted with men who would shoot her rather than mess with her. And out here, where law and order was generally scoffed at, a lady sheriff could be a target for worse than death, but he couldn't let himself think of that. A fierce protectiveness overcame him. She'd just told him to get out of town and never come back, but he needed to finish conquering Maddy Haynes. He had to have her naked in his arms, moaning as he plunged into her pussy and took every inch of her.
Jeb remained in the shadows although he was mighty inclined to take Maddy's horse's rein and lead her off into the sunset and into his bed.
"When hell freezes over,” he heard her mutter. She turned the horse around and told him, “Don't overstay your welcome ‘cause the next time you see me, you'll be looking down the barrel of my gun."
Frustration churned in his stomach. Did the woman realise she'd just sent him an invitation to leap to the challenge? He watched her ride away. Stiff-backed, she didn't once look over her shoulder, but he suspected she was itching to capture him. Dust rose in the air from the horse's hooves. If he got out of town, how long would it be before he returned, ostensibly to check on her? His dick gave him no rest when he thought about her lying under him, pretty and pink, her lips parted, her legs entangled with his and her pussy all tuckered out from his loving.
On his way to where his horse was waiting, tied to the post behind the bank, he got to wondering if Maddy wouldn't mind him sitting in her jail. For a spell. Just to get to know her better, he reasoned.
The pictures began to speed through his mind. Naked Maddy's wrists tied together with her own handcuffs as she begged him for more. Her breasts jiggling as she tried to free her hands to help herself to his aching body. As he dug his heels into his horse's flank, he had to adjust his cock, which was hard just thinking about the possibilities. The only thing he'd worry about was if he got into her jail, how would he get out? When Maddy got her hands on him, she very likely wouldn't release him until due justice had been served. So how did a horny man who was in trouble with the law make love to the sheriff without getting caught?
Now wasn't that a question to ponder until the next stagecoach with its pouch of money passed by?
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Unable to believe she'd let Jeb McIntyre slip out of her hands so easily, Maddy holed up in her jail. She sank into the chair behind her desk, gazed unseeingly at the empty cell, its door ajar with the key in the lock.
She gripped the edge of the desk with white-knuckled fingers, willing herself not to scream with fury. How could she have allowed herself to be so manipulated into leaving him in front of the bank as free as a bird? She took one deep breath. Then another but she couldn't think of anything but the lazy smile on his face and his erection. A big one. He certainly had the right equipment for pleasuring a woman. She imagined unbuttoning his pants, freeing his big, long, throbbing erection.
The sound of her low moan startled her in the small jail. The door squeaked open, drawing her attention away from more pleasurable thoughts. She reminded herself to fix that annoying joint.
"Hey Maddy? Are you okay?"
Maddy nodded, exhaled and forced herself back to the business of maintaining law. “Lola, what can I do you for?"
Lola Spencer was the operator of the stagecoach stop in Plains Junction. A real lady who wore a dress and who didn't mind suitors coming to her door to court her. She was another woman who'd had to find her way in a difficult man's world. Maddy couldn't picture Lola as one who had lewd thoughts about men in sexual positions as she did about McIntyre.
"The two of us make a pair, don't we? Hankering after men we can't have and, if truth be told, aren't good for us,” Lola said.
Maddy grimaced. What fool notion had caused her to confess to her best friend about that one afternoon with McIntyre? She got to her feet and poured herself a cold cup of coffee. “I'm not hankering after him.” When she wasn't thinking about him, that was.
"I saw him riding out of town, bold as you please. Did you talk to him?” Lola settled herself on the desk and rearranged her mint green dress around her. Maddy watched and wished, just once, she had somewhere special to go where she could wear a dress. One with plenty of flounces, a crinoline and in a soft blue to match her eyes. Bah! Women like her didn't get anything done looking all pretty.
There was no need for naming Jeb McIntyre and Dawson Kirkpatrick. Men with dark pasts, no future and an unstable present. Maddy ran a palm across her sweating forehead. “We exchanged words. Yes."
Lola gave a low whistle. “I'd have loved to be a fly on the wall to hear what you said."
"I just told him to get out of town.” Which was more or less the truth. “And he went.” That was to save face. If there was anything left of her pride, she'd sure smeared it around like horse shit.
Lola patted her hand affectionately. “Don't feel bad. There's other men. I'm sure."
"Like you believe that?"
Lola laughed, a gentle, musical laugh. “No, not really. Dawson would be the only man for me.” She pursed her lips. Her green eyes took on a faraway look as if she was visiting the past. “If only he'd come
to his senses."
"Men don't have any.” Stuck on his ranch in the middle of nowhere and taming wild horses, Dawson was another of those who thought he owned the world and everything in it. Crazy man. Maddy motioned towards the coffee. “Help yourself."
Again the happy laughter. “I make my own. And hot, but thanks anyway."
"When's the next stagecoach due?” Asked more out of curiosity than as a matter for discussion.
"Half an hour.” Lola lifted an exquisitely shaped eyebrow. “Anything I should know about?"
"Whether the passengers will arrive dead or alive?"
Lola's laughter died away. “Last week, I didn't know what to think. Carson, the coach driver, said the bullets came out of nowhere, and before he could tell the passengers to duck, one of them had been hit."
Maddy wondered if the stagecoach holdup had been McIntyre's idea. In her estimate, he wasn't a killer of innocent people. He was just after the money. That's why there were so many witnesses to what he looked like and who he was. Everyone knew the name Jeb McIntyre.
Maddy sighed and started pacing from one end of the small jail to the other. One cold wall to the other. “Why's money so important to these men? You die but you can't take it with you, no matter how much you have."
Lola shrugged, her expression pensive. “I don't think they care about the money as much as they care about the thrill of taking it away from someone."
"Yeah. You're probably right.” Maddy repressed a moan and tamped down the sensual image of McIntyre lying naked on her bed, the sheets carelessly tangled around his lean legs as he reached for her and pulled her closer, his lips quivering with anticipation, his dick bobbing towards her as if it had a mind of its own.
She had to stop thinking about him and the havoc he created in her tormented mind and aroused body when his image appeared behind her closed eyes.
Lola got to her feet, smoothed her dress over her hips. “Got to go fix some scones for my company. Hope they all come in alive this time.” She touched Maddy's shoulder affectionately. “It's time to get on with your life. Forget about Jeb. All he'll do is bring heartache your way."