Read Online Harlot by Victoria Dahl - Free Book Online
Authors: Victoria Dahl
Tags: Historical Romance
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She closed her eyes, her mouth quirked in a rueful smile. “Every once in a while, this feels like the only life we’ve ever had. It feels like this life belongs to us. But—” she shook her head and grabbed a rag “—it’ll be a bit cold for that nonsense come winter.”
Jessica laughed and tried to tamp down the envy she felt for them. That they loved each other. Accepted each other. That they could lie together at night and hold all the good in the world between them.
Touching Caleb had felt nice, even with all the hurt wrapped up in it. If she hadn’t betrayed him, if he’d still loved her, Jessica could have looked up at the night sky and felt as if all of it belonged to them, in the only life they’d ever known.
She’d never have that with him now. All she’d get were these next few nights. She’d done it for the money, but maybe tonight she’d do it just because she could.
Chapter 8
‡
“Are you spending the evening out again, Caleb?” his mother asked, her voice high with worry. “I feel as if I’ve hardly seen you.”
He glanced around at his mother’s gathering of friends, all of whom smiled up at him as they waved elaborate lace fans in the summer heat.
“Ladies,” he said with a nod. “Mother. I apologize. I’m off to the Smith ranch to see an old friend.”
His mother made a sound of disappointment, but the oldest woman, Mrs. Crew, laughed and fluttered her fan at him. “Come now, Penelope. A young man like him doesn’t want to spend an evening in a parlor listening to old hens gossip. Let him have his fun.”
He turned his hat in his hands, itching to get out of there. He was half embarrassed, knowing where he was headed, and half impatient for the same reason. “I’ll see you all at Mother’s picnic. If you’ll excuse me.”
He’d never been comfortable inside a parlor, perched on a chair and forced to listen to the clock tick the day away. All he’d ever wanted was to be outside, driving cattle, working the land. Of course, he’d dreamed of coming home from a hard day to his own house, but it had only ever been Jessica there in his fantasies. And he’d always imagined a big porch where they could sit and share the last hours of a day¸ looking out at the sky.
She’d been raised in town, but Jessica had claimed she wanted the same thing. He hadn’t been willing to ask her to work herself to the bone on some arid homestead, though, turning her fine hands into rough tools. He’d aimed to have a real place, a real home, and enough money to hire a girl to help, because Jessica had been a lady. Once.
He walked to the stables, his mind flashing over and over to what they’d done last night. He’d thought of it a thousand times already today. Her naked breasts, her wet mouth, the stunning pink between her legs and how it had felt to touch her there, to finger her, to slide his cock into her hot body and use it for his own pleasure.
He wanted all of that again, and so many other things. He wanted to devour her. Fuck her until he didn’t care anymore. Use her up until she was nothing so she’d know just how he felt.
Rubbing a hand against his aching chest, he walked into the yard of the stable and found his horse saddled and waiting. After checking to be sure the young stable hand had done a good job, Caleb mounted the horse and tossed the boy a coin.
He was on his way to her for another night.
How could she still look so perfect after everything she’d done? How could she smell so good that she made his heart hurt? How could she be the same ?
Because she was the same at first glance, only quieter, more serious. She had the same soft voice, the same eyes, probably the same wide smile if she ever used it. She was Jessica Willoughby, but sadder now, and the terrible part was that everything inside him was screaming at him to make it better.
He pulled his hat lower against the setting sun as he slipped out of town, wishing he could as easily shield himself from
Jessica laughed and tried to tamp down the envy she felt for them. That they loved each other. Accepted each other. That they could lie together at night and hold all the good in the world between them.
Touching Caleb had felt nice, even with all the hurt wrapped up in it. If she hadn’t betrayed him, if he’d still loved her, Jessica could have looked up at the night sky and felt as if all of it belonged to them, in the only life they’d ever known.
She’d never have that with him now. All she’d get were these next few nights. She’d done it for the money, but maybe tonight she’d do it just because she could.
Chapter 8
‡
“Are you spending the evening out again, Caleb?” his mother asked, her voice high with worry. “I feel as if I’ve hardly seen you.”
He glanced around at his mother’s gathering of friends, all of whom smiled up at him as they waved elaborate lace fans in the summer heat.
“Ladies,” he said with a nod. “Mother. I apologize. I’m off to the Smith ranch to see an old friend.”
His mother made a sound of disappointment, but the oldest woman, Mrs. Crew, laughed and fluttered her fan at him. “Come now, Penelope. A young man like him doesn’t want to spend an evening in a parlor listening to old hens gossip. Let him have his fun.”
He turned his hat in his hands, itching to get out of there. He was half embarrassed, knowing where he was headed, and half impatient for the same reason. “I’ll see you all at Mother’s picnic. If you’ll excuse me.”
He’d never been comfortable inside a parlor, perched on a chair and forced to listen to the clock tick the day away. All he’d ever wanted was to be outside, driving cattle, working the land. Of course, he’d dreamed of coming home from a hard day to his own house, but it had only ever been Jessica there in his fantasies. And he’d always imagined a big porch where they could sit and share the last hours of a day¸ looking out at the sky.
She’d been raised in town, but Jessica had claimed she wanted the same thing. He hadn’t been willing to ask her to work herself to the bone on some arid homestead, though, turning her fine hands into rough tools. He’d aimed to have a real place, a real home, and enough money to hire a girl to help, because Jessica had been a lady. Once.
He walked to the stables, his mind flashing over and over to what they’d done last night. He’d thought of it a thousand times already today. Her naked breasts, her wet mouth, the stunning pink between her legs and how it had felt to touch her there, to finger her, to slide his cock into her hot body and use it for his own pleasure.
He wanted all of that again, and so many other things. He wanted to devour her. Fuck her until he didn’t care anymore. Use her up until she was nothing so she’d know just how he felt.
Rubbing a hand against his aching chest, he walked into the yard of the stable and found his horse saddled and waiting. After checking to be sure the young stable hand had done a good job, Caleb mounted the horse and tossed the boy a coin.
He was on his way to her for another night.
How could she still look so perfect after everything she’d done? How could she smell so good that she made his heart hurt? How could she be the same ?
Because she was the same at first glance, only quieter, more serious. She had the same soft voice, the same eyes, probably the same wide smile if she ever used it. She was Jessica Willoughby, but sadder now, and the terrible part was that everything inside him was screaming at him to make it better.
He pulled his hat lower against the setting sun as he slipped out of town, wishing he could as easily shield himself from
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