A Madam into a Mistress Read online

  Heroes and Harlots

  A MADAM INTO A MISTRESS

  Nadia Aidan

  A Total-E-Bound Publication

  www.total-e-bound.com

  A Madam into a Mistress

  ISBN #978-0-85715-191-9

  ©Copyright Nadia Aidan 2010

  Cover Art by Lyn Taylor ©Copyright July 2010

  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 2010 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.

  Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated Total-e-burning.

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmark mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Stetson: John B. Stetson Company

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Redemption, Nevada, 1885

  Madam Cherie Launbauer flung open the front door to her brothel.

  “We’re closed—,”

  Her next words died in her throat, and she gasped, her eyes rounding when she saw her guest and recognised him instantly.

  The man on her doorstep towered over her, his muscled frame blocking out the moonlight that gleamed against his broad back. His wild blond hair curled against his shoulders, while his full, sensual lips lifted into a heart-stopping smile.

  It had been eight years since she’d seen him last, and there were visible changes, but one thing would never change, she was sure, and that was his piercing sapphire eyes that were so intense she swore they could burn a hole straight to her soul. Another thing she sure would never change, no matter how much time passed, was the devastating effect his probing stare always seemed to have on her body. She shivered at the wave of heat that suddenly coursed through her.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked shakily, finally finding her voice.

  He pushed past her, and she bit her lip to keep from letting out a low moan when his hard, muscled body brushed against hers. He smelled of sandalwood and pure masculinity, a combination that had always been lethal on him, and she shuddered as the scent of him filled her lungs.

  “I’m here to arrest you,” he said, shaking her from her thoughts, and she blinked at him wondering if she’d heard correctly.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me, Ms. Parkins, although I hear it’s Launbauer these days.” He gave her a sardonic grin. “You’re under arrest.”

  “For what?” she sputtered.

  U.S. Marshal Shane Duckett slid his gaze over the woman before him. These past eight years had certainly been kind to her. He almost wished they hadn’t been. So many times, he’d imagined she was now a dried up old whore—her lifestyle taking its toll on her. But the woman before him seemingly hadn’t aged a bit. Her skin was still as creamy smooth as he remembered, her flowing midnight tresses still unruly. They appeared soft as silk as they fell in wild abandon around her angelic face. Her liquid hazel eyes were still as hauntingly beautiful as they’d been the day he met her.

  He hated to arrest her, especially when he knew a jail cell was the last place she belonged. In his bed was certainly a preferable alternative for the lovely, Cherie Launbauer. But he’d come all this way and had dedicated the last six years of his life to tracking her down. He’d spent two years in a federal prison because of her, envisioning this very moment—the day he would haul her back to jail, and nothing would stop him from seeing Cherie was brought to justice.

  * * * *

  San Antonio, Texas, 1877

  Cherie had been locked up for a week now, and today, she’d decided, was the day she’d make a break for it. It was now or never. Tomorrow, she would go before a judge, who would likely find her guilty of robbing a federal bank down in El Paso. After that she would be headed to a federal prison where she would stay for fifteen years, if not longer.

  No, she was not gonna end up locked up in some prison for the rest of her life. Today was the day she’d bust out of jail, and she knew exactly how she was gonna do it.

  Deputy Shane Duckett sat across the room at an old, rickety wooden table. His Stetson shielded his eyes, but she knew he watched her, that he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Every evening just after supper, the young deputy showed up for his night shift, and for a week it had been quiet, the town of San Antonio surprising peaceful.

  With nothing going on in town, Shane had been confined to his post at the county’s only jail, simply watching her. But after awhile, he’d stopped watching and had started talking. She figured he was simply bored, but their conversations gave her insight into the young Shane. She was only a few years older than him, but she’d seen and done a lot in her time, unlike Shane. He was trusting and innocent, the evil ways of the world hadn’t quite hardened him yet, and it was that knowledge of him which would ultimately lead him into setting her free.

  For the briefest of moments, she felt a twinge of regret for what she was prepared to do. Shane seemed like a nice young man, and she knew he was eager to do well as a deputy. She hated that she would have to use him this way, but she had no other choice. Shane was attracted to her; his lust for her burned in his clear, blue gaze every time he turned those soulful eyes on her. He tried to mask it, but he did a poor job of it. That was probably because he was so young, untrained in the ways of women. Eventually he would learn not to wear his heart on his sleeve. He would find a way to disguise his desires, because once a woman knew she wielded sexual power over a man, she would not hesitate to use it. And that was especially true of a woman like her.

  She took a long, deep breath, realising if she were to put her plan into action, she had to do it now. She stood up, biting back a smile when he glanced sideways at her. He didn’t turn his head, but she knew he saw every move she made.

  Tugging off one of her kid boots, she hopped up on the bed and pretended to swat at a spider web in the corner.

  “What are you doing?”

  For a man so young, he had a deep, seductive voice that made her think of hot nights spent in a warm bed. She shook her head, forcing herself to remember her plan. It wouldn’t do well to lose her head now.

  “There’s a spider web in the corner. I’m not going to bed with it looming over me.”

  She swatted her hand again, but she exaggerated the movement, purposefully throwing herself off balance. She tumbled to the floor in a flurry of skirts and petticoats, a sharp cry erupting from her lips. She cradled her ankle with both hands, moaning in a fit of pain.

  She heard the clanking of the lock, and the door t
o the cell swung open. It slammed shut behind Shane, but Cherie knew it could only be locked and unlocked from the outside.

  “Are you all right?” he questioned stooping down beside her. When she shook her head, her face twisted in pain, he scooped her up into his arms and sat down on the bed with her nestled in his lap.

  “Where does it hurt?” he asked in that deep, husky voice of his. She almost blurted out ‘between her thighs’, because from the moment he’d touched her, he’d triggered an ache at the centre of her core, a deep ache that only the stroke of his hard flesh inside her would assuage. She shook her head. This lust for him just wouldn’t do. She needed to focus!

  “It’s my ankle,” she managed to croak out, pointing to her left foot.

  He lifted her skirt slowly, gently, and she noticed his cheeks reddened when he touched her ankle with his callused fingers. Again, she felt a pang of remorse for what she was about to do, and for a moment, she wondered if Shane was a virgin. As if he knew her thoughts were of him, he glanced up from massaging her foot, his crystal-clear, blue gaze colliding with hers.

  She sucked in a deep breath. His piercing sapphire eyes were so beautiful, so hauntingly mesmerising that she could have happily drowned in them and not cared. Shane was a handsome man but boyishly so. His body was hard, muscular, but he was lean, his physique not fully fleshed out, and his face was smooth. She knew he was twenty-two. By society’s standards, he was a full grown man, but there was still an innocence about Shane that made her want to protect him, shield him from women like her.

  Something shifted in his gaze, and Cherie recognised it immediately. He knew she studied him, and that her perusal of him wasn’t purely benign. Almost as soon as that thought came, she felt him stir beneath her, and she could no longer pretend she didn’t feel the hard press of his cock against her bottom. Desire darkened his gaze, just before his attention dropped to her mouth. She slid her tongue across her lips, delighting in the sound of his sharp intake of breath.

  Before she lost her nerve, before she could regret what she was doing, she leaned into him. And she didn’t have to go very far, because he met her lips immediately, crushing his mouth to hers, his hand gripping the back of her head to tangle in her hair.

  He hungrily devoured her, and the hot press of his mouth was greedy. He kissed her with an eagerness that told her he didn’t do this often. Cupping his cheek, she slipped her tongue between his lips, slowing down the kiss. Her movements were sensual, languorous, and he soon followed her lead, his mouth now gently coaxing, instead of the feverish kissing of just a few moments ago.

  She moaned into his mouth when his hand dipped to her chest and slipped inside the low bodice of her gown to cup her breast. He massaged the full, soft flesh of her mound, plucking at her nipple until it was hard and erect.

  In a single motion, he flipped her onto her back, pressing her into the mattress and covering her with his large body. The space was small, but that didn’t stop him, that didn’t stop either of them.

  He gently tugged down the front of her gown until her breasts spilled forth. He devoured her with his eyes, his hands teasing over her coral nipples before he dipped his head to take one tight bud into his mouth. Heat raked through her belly, and she gasped, her head falling back, her eyes squeezing shut as he drew her flesh into the warm cavern of his mouth. Pushing her breasts together, he stroked his tongue across her nipples until they were glistening wet. What he lacked in skill, he made up for in eagerness, and she shivered against him as pleasure curled in her belly and wet heat gushed from her pussy, staining her undergarments.

  She writhed beneath him, panting with need. In the deep recesses of her mind, she wondered how this had happened. She was supposed to be seducing him, not the other way around. She figured she would entice him between her thighs, ride him to oblivion then slip out while he slept peacefully—since every man always fell sound asleep after a good fuck.

  But now that she had him right where she wanted, all she could think about was that she wanted him to stay there. As if echoing her thoughts, her thighs wrapped around his hips, and seemingly of their own volition, her hips rocked off the bed, her sex thrusting against the hard bulge inside his jeans.

  “Oh, shit,” he groaned.

  Oh shit was right. He was so hard against her; her only thoughts were of getting him inside her.

  “Fuck, me,” she moaned. “Fuck me, Shane.”

  He lifted his head, his eyes meeting hers for a brief second. What she saw in them made her heart stutter. Oh God. If she didn’t need to escape so badly, she would have stopped. The tender look in his eyes was so honest, so trusting. Oh hell, the boy looked as if he’d practically gone and fallen in love with her.

  “Shane.” She couldn’t go through with this. She didn’t know how she would escape now, but she knew she had to stop.

  He kissed her again, halting any further protest, and whatever noble intentions she’d had, they instantly flew out of her head. She was on fire for him. She didn’t know how she thought she could have possibly stopped. Her body wanted him with a fierceness she’d never experienced before.

  She heard the rustling of a zipper then felt the blast of cool air against her naked cunt as he parted the tiny opening in her undergarments. Before she could take her next breath, he was there, the fat, purple tip of his cock pressing against her opening. Good Lord, he was big. Bigger than any man she’d ever had, and as he pushed inside her, she fought to accommodate him.

  She flexed around him, dragging a lewd curse from his lips, and that subtle movement was his undoing. He buried his hard shaft inside her on one violent thrust.

  He screamed her name, his fingers digging into her bare thighs while she cried out, her body struggling to adjust to the thick length of him.

  He began to stroke in and out of her then, and that’s when she realised he didn’t know she wasn’t quite wet enough, wasn’t quite ready. Her heart clenched when she saw his face. His eyes were shut, his features twisted in pleasurable agony, and his lips were parted as he let out a series of harsh pants. She knew she would be sore tomorrow. The discomfort from his rough lovemaking would make it a challenge to ride out of town, but she would deserve every measure of pain she felt. In the back of her mind, she’d known he was a virgin, known he’d never lain with a woman.

  Her belly knotted. Shane deserved a nice young woman, an innocent virgin, like himself. He should have been making love to her on their wedding night. His first time should not have been on the dingy bed of a dark, dank jail cell.

  She would have pushed him away then, the guilt too much to bear, but he gripped her thighs tighter, his thrusts driving harder and deeper inside her. He let out a harsh bellow, the muscles in his neck straining as he threw his head back and shuddered violently. She felt the blast of his hot semen against the back of her womb, and she closed her eyes, stroking his back gently when he collapsed against her. His breathing was ragged, the only sound in the empty jail.

  “I—I’m sorry,” he stuttered, breaking the silence. “It was my first—”

  “Shh…” she whispered. “I know.”

  A fist closed around her heart at the look in his eyes—full of love, tenderness. She closed her eyes, struggling to shut him out, although she knew that look would haunt her for many years. She reached up to cup his face and kissed him, softly, gently.

  She owed it to him—that his memories of his first time wouldn’t be of just a rough, quick tumble on a dirty cot—so they made love again. The next time was slower, and by the fourth time, when he eased inside her, he knew just what to do to bring her body the sweetest, most earth shattering climax she’d ever experienced.

  It was just before dawn when she slipped out of bed, out from the warmth of his arms. She closed the cell behind her, and locked it, pocketing the keys in her skirt. She gave him one last lingering look, knowing she’d never see him again. His handsome face was so peaceful, and she felt a wave of tenderness swamp her. She turned away from him befor
e guilt made her do something stupid like walk back inside that cell and face the judge’s sentence.

  She hoped he didn’t get into too much trouble. After all, everybody would know it wasn’t his fault. She was a thief and a whore. He hadn’t stood a chance against her wiles. At the least, he would be reprimanded; at the most, he would lose his job. She hoped it didn’t come to that. He was a good kid, a good deputy.

  As she mounted a stolen horse and rode out of town, her last thoughts were of the young, Shane Duckett. She hadn’t prayed in years, but she did that day. She prayed that things would turn out all right for him then she left town for good and never once looked back.

  Chapter Two

  Redemption, Nevada, 1885

  “I want to speak to Marshal Kincaid.”

  Shane looked up from the paper on his desk, his blue eyes laced with contempt.

  “How do you know Kincaid?”

  “He’s a friend.”

  His lips twisted. “Which means you’ve fucked him, too.”

  Cherie glared at Shane through the metal bars of her jail cell. “For your information, he’s married to my best friend.”

  That raised his eyebrows. “Montgomery?”

  “I take it you’ve met her.” Cherie’s smile was wistful as she thought of her friend. She hadn’t seen her in a week. Montgomery’s duties as a mom to a set of precocious twin boys and the caretaker of an extensive cattle ranch kept her pretty busy these days.

  “A couple of times. Quite a spitfire.”