Grading Garnet: The Red Petticoat Saloon Page 8

  “See that you do.”

  As he slid her chair from the table and offered his hand, Gloria took it, allowing him to draw her to her feet. Walking towards the doorway, she saw the same Mexican man entering. Good Lord, he was even bigger than Seth who she considered a giant.

  “Glad to see you decided to join us, Miss Owens,” the man said. “Seth’s scowling and constant drumming of his fingers on the table had some diners put off their enjoyment of their lunch.”

  Seth’s growl had Gloria smiling. “I find it hard to believe anything short of a tornado could draw your customers’ attentions away from their fare. I was telling the truth when I told Miss Nettie that it was the most delicious meal I’ve ever had the pleasure of eating even if it was inside a whor…” She stopped speaking, her face flaming as she realized what she’d been about to say. “I’m… um… I-I didn’t mean…”

  “Nothing to apologize for,” Gabe said with a shrug. “You’re only speaking the truth which might not always be considered polite, but will keep you out of trouble.” He grinned, dimples appearing that had her forgetting he was so very intimidating. “I must say, I’m very impressed and grateful that our school board has managed to find a young woman who is at least brave and open minded enough to pay us a visit.”

  Gloria suddenly realized that she was indeed guilty of being “judgy” as Seth had accused her. “It was my pleasure, Mr. Vasquez. Your staff have been nothing but welcoming.”

  Gabe’s loud bark of laughter caused her to give a little jump and a squeal. “Perdóname. I’m not laughing at you, pequeña,” he assured her. “It’s just that if I heard a customer state that our gems weren’t behaving themselves, they’d be lining themselves up for a lesson in manners. There’s a reason my Jewel chose red as the color of their petticoats. Gives a man the perfect hue to work towards.” When his hand dropped to his belt buckle, she could feel her face flame, her mind reeling at such a… a blatant reference to… well, to a spanking.

  Unsure how to react, she simply nodded and when Seth said that they’d be back another day, and she felt her hand being tugged, she only then realized that he’d never dropped it once he’d helped her from her chair. When Amy called out her good-bye, Gloria’s mouth said, “Good-bye, Amy, it was very nice meeting you,” before her brain ever got in gear.

  “Good girl,” Seth said, giving her fingers a squeeze as they stepped out into the sunshine again.

  They’d almost returned home when she looked up at him. “Mr. McIntyre, may I ask you a question?”

  “You can ask me anything,” he said, giving her a smile.

  “Who is Millicent?”

  “Ahh,” he said. “You know how I said our town is famous for Miss Nettie’s cooking?” At her nod, he continued. “Well, though she doesn’t actually reside in Culpepper, I’m afraid that Millicent Crankshaw is famous for being the meanest minded, most judgmental hypocrite this town has ever had the distinct displeasure of meeting.”

  “Um, all right, but… well, you mentioned switchings?”

  His chuckle echoed around them as he nodded, his grin wide. “Believe me, the day that Myron, that’s her husband, finally cut himself some switches and applied them to his wife’s ass… well, I’m a little surprised Mayor Rockwell didn’t declare a national holiday. And the fact that he gave her that switching inside her jail cell—let’s just say the street outside was a might crowded until the final screech died away. I swear you could hear the cheering for miles and miles.”

  Gloria sat there, her mouth open at his tale, wondering how much, if any of it, was the truth. Evidently, he noticed her reticence.

  Lifting his hand, he used two fingers to stroke an “X” across his chest. “Cross my heart and hope to die. Every single word of that is the Lord’s honest truth. Ask anyone in town.”

  While that might be something she’d do one day, for right now, she had something else on her mind. “May I ask another question?”

  “Certainly.”

  “Um, I noticed that, well, the women at the saloon um…”

  “What about them?” he asked, pulling up in front of the house but remaining seated, turning towards her.

  “They are very beautiful. Is that why they are named for precious gemstones? I met Amethyst, Opal and the waitress was Ruby even though the sheriff called her Red and you called her Rebekah. Oh, and, um that woman… the one you were with that night…”

  “Dottie?”

  “Um, yes, but I also heard you call her Peridot. That’s a gemstone as well, you know.”

  “I know,” Seth said with a chuckle. “No, and while the girls are beautiful, the story is that Madam Jewel, she owns the Petticoat along with Gabe, gives them gem names in order to keep their true identities secret. Some of these women came from situations that were dangerous, some came from homes where they weren’t wanted but every single one of them is considered a gem to Jewel. There are enough narrow minded people out in the world. Jewel and Gabe make sure every woman who seeks shelter under their roof is not only safe but they become a part of an extended family.”

  “Oh,” she said, a bit surprised to hear the explanation but suddenly it seemed right somehow. Thinking of another question, she could feel her face heat and saw his brow furrow as if he thought she was about to say something degrading. Instead, she told him the truth. “That’s nice but… I got the impression that Mr. Vasquez… well, never mind, I’m sure I heard him incorrectly.”

  Seth laughed and shook his head. “I’m sure you didn’t, little one. You’ll find that though each and every one of those gems have found themselves on the wrong end of Gabe’s belt a time or two, they will admit they deserved the lesson. Now, anything else you’d like to know?”

  There were a thousand things she’d love to know but there was no way she’d be voicing her questions to him! Instead, she shook her head. “No, but thank you for lunch. It was not only delicious, it was enlightening.”

  Chapter Six

  The next day, she had brought, bought, or managed to acquire, everything she needed to scour that room clean, which she set to with gusto, having hitched a ride into town early with one of Seth’s men in order to have as much daylight in which to clean as she could possibly manage. She’d like to get it done in one day—hopefully including the outhouse—then spend the rest of her time before school started to decorate and make things just so for herself and the children so that she’d be ready for them Monday morning.

  The first thing she wanted to do was wash down the walls, and she had noticed a tall ladder leaning against the back of the school that looked like it might allow her to reach into the nooks and crannies near the high ceiling. With a lot of effort, she managed to maneuver it into the school, setting it up to start at the top left hand corner of one of the side walls, intending to work her way around from top to bottom.

  She was halfway finished, standing at the highest rung she could in order to reach into the dusty, cobwebby corners of the room when suddenly she was no longer on the ladder at all.

  Instead, she found herself lifted off of it and nearly startled to death at the same time, such that she let out a terrified shriek until she realized just who it was that had plucked her off her perch.

  And before she could say a word in her defense—not that she thought she should have to defend herself to him in the least—Seth had planted a booted foot on one of the children’s chairs and folded her over it. He was so tall, and his leg was now at such an angle, that her feet were miles from the floor. Her hands were quickly rendered useless when he clamped them against her back, then pulled up her skirts and down her bloomers to set loose such a violent cacophony of smacks to cheeks that were still somewhat pink from his previous attentions that she began to both arch her back and kick her heels up, hoping to disrupt him in some way—any way at all.

  He could hardly punish her more for not maintaining the proper position when she couldn’t reach it in the first place.

  She was more successful with her
efforts this time than she had been previously, so much so that he stopped for a moment. Looping his left arm around her waist, he carried her to her own chair behind her desk, turning it so that he could drop into it, drape her over his knee, quickly and efficiently placing his other leg over both of hers so that she couldn’t hope to move them.

  Then he angled her so that he could lean himself over her in such a way that, even with her hands now free, she couldn’t get past his broad back to stop him from doing what he intended to do.

  She was well and truly trapped, and he made sure that every single swat he administered had her battling to suppress a scream, since he took no heed that the windows were open.

  In no time at all, there was a puddle of tears on the wood floor beneath her face. This time it took her a much shorter amount of time to begin to plead and beg for him to stop. Even though she knew it would be in vain, there was no way she could prevent herself from doing so.

  If anything, this time was worse than before. Much worse. He hadn’t spanked her that long ago, and now here she was, getting blistered again.

  The second after the last crisp smack fell, he startled her again by picking her up and placing her—bare bottomed—on top of her own desk, his hands at her hips keeping her skirts from covering her, making deliberately sure that her fiery red bottom was in contact with the wood. Then he took a step forward, forcing her to part her legs around him and pressing himself up against that private part of her that was also now bare to him.

  She could feel the stiff fabric of his trousers pressing against her, his insistent, rock hard bulge finding the yielding, wet heat of her, rocking his hips just slightly to work her lips—her last line of defense against him—apart and seat himself atop her most sensitive spot.

  Gloria didn’t know what to do. Besides the fact that she should have been screaming bloody murder, but couldn’t seem to cobble together the will to do so. It felt too damned good to deny—so much so that she was terrified of doing something that might make him stop!

  A big hand, fingers spread broadly, found its way to her mid-back, encouraging her to arch herself against him. His other hand cupped the back of her neck almost roughly, tipping her head back so that he could lean down and claim her lips as he increased the rhythm of his hips. The hand at her back descended lower, to cheeks so hot they were probably branding their imprint into the desk. His tight grip of her sore buttocks made her yip into his mouth as she naturally snapped her hips away from his touch, grinding her little clitty against the rough material of his prominence as she did so, and making herself moan in a very different way than she had been minutes before.

  “That’s it, baby girl,” he encouraged raggedly, his eyes drinking in the sight of her in pleasure as she surprised him by—tentatively at first—taking over where he left off, arching herself against him, near to out and out riding him as he nibbled on her lips, licking them and swearing he could taste the cherry pie from yesterday afternoon.

  But before she could cum, he held her still, reaching down between them to work the buttons of his fly and release his eager self, allowing it to spring up between them, and in very intimate territory for her, making Gloria jump at the unexpected—if not entirely unpleasant—presence of something long and stiff between her legs.

  “What’s that?”

  He shouldn’t have been surprised. Few women had any experience with that part of a man’s body, but he was surprised, for some reason, although he was pleased, too. Apparently she hadn’t been covering anything up when she’d said that she and her former beau were friends. That’s apparently all they were.

  “Seth?” she asked, sounding a little frightened and beginning to try to withdraw from him, despite how the mere idea of doing so made her entire body ache.

  “Shhh, Gloria.” He kissed the top of her head tenderly. “It’s nothing to be afraid of, just a part of me.” He boldly slipped a finger over her clit, pulling a loud gasp from her. “This little part of you? That feels so good when I touch it?” He swirled the tip of his finger around her, pressing lightly and she arched acutely, pressing herself against it and biting her lip. “Well, what you felt is my corresponding part, sort of.” He drew her hand to him, feeling her small fingers wrap reluctantly around his length, barely able to contain himself as she explored him with a naïve curiosity that he found irresistible.

  “And that’s not all. There’s another place, not far from your little pearl, where we are meant to fit together. Would you like me to do that?”

  When her gaze found his, they were wide and unfocused, and he saw how deep and darkly blue her eyes were, her flushed cheeks almost matching the dark red of her bottom, both reminding him very much of a ring his mother used to wear. “Sh-should we?” her voice was weak with lust.

  Seth took a breath before he answered her. “I think we should. I think we would fit together perfectly.” He began to gather her to him, seeking and finding her very slick entrance as he held her tight. Not wanting to lie to her, he pressed his forehead to hers. “There might be a moment of pain—just a bit—and you must tell me if it’s too much. I’ll stop,” he offered, hoping that he could. “But I promise you that the rest of it is more than worth any momentary pain. Will you trust me, Gloria?” he asked, deliberately dragging the head of his cock over her clit as he spoke.

  “Yes, Seth,” she breathed.

  “Good girl.”

  It wasn’t as easy as he would have wanted it to be. She was wonderfully tight, although she was also incredibly wet, which helped. But he was very slow and patient, full of encouragement and plying her with long hot kisses when she seemed uncomfortable, until, at last, she completely surrounded him. He began to plunge, slowly and carefully at first, then with more urgency as he kept worrying that pulsing, swollen button.

  The sight of her like that, still mostly, modestly dressed, perched on the edge of her desk on her tender, scarlet, hot little bottom, legs spread wide around him, full of him and writhing on his fingertips was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

  Gloria couldn’t believe what was happening. She knew it was wrong, but the feelings were too strong to deny—much, much stronger than anything she’d ever been able to conjure within herself. So much so that she was a little frightened by it. Her body, possessed as it was by his, stretched to the point of almost pain around his girth, seemed so much more sensitive than it had ever been. When she could no longer bear it, when he refused to let up, refused to stop touching her there and slowly, deliberately emptying and then filling her again, more roughly each time, she had no choice but to let go completely and trust him to catch her as she fell.

  Seth had a moment of panic when he saw that she was going to throw her head back and scream as she came, but he reached out and covered her mouth with his hand, which muffled what would have been a lovely siren’s song of bliss that he hated to stifle, but he did what he knew he had to do.

  Not four blissful strokes later, he buried his mouth against her neck, silencing himself as much as he could as he spurted violently within her while her body continued to spasm around him, milking him unbearably and prolonging his orgasm just that much more.

  When it was over, he held her for a very long time, feeling her trembling in his arms, doffing his coat somehow without letting go of her and wrapping it around her to warm her.

  But Gloria wasn’t cold. Not physically, anyway. She was stunned at her own behavior, overwhelmed by guilt and in shock. Seth helped her off the desk, which was no easy feat because her scourged skin was kind of sticking to it, and it hurt like the devil to peel herself away.

  Then he bent down and brought her bloomers up around her waist, pushing her hands away when she tried to tie the bow for herself as she literally vibrated in her boots. He could hear her body knocking nervously against the desk drawer. He arranged her skirts for her, and discouraged her from trying to shuck out from under his coat.

  “You stay still,” he said, tapping the end of his finger—which
he realized afterward smelled of her—to the tip of her nose. “I’m going to close up and then take you home. Do you understand, Gloria?”

  She nodded, and the submissive, obedient, “Yes, sir,” seemed to fall out of her mouth, sounding alarmingly normal to her ear.

  And she hadn’t moved a muscle when he did return to her, keeping an arm around her slight shoulders—as if he was afraid she might bolt as they walked, and then again when he bundled her against him—her butt firmly ensconced on the cushion—after handing her up onto the wagon.

  It was a quiet ride home. Seth wasn’t at all sure what he should say—besides that he was sorry. Not for the spanking, but for making love to her afterwards. He was rock solid about his right to discipline her, and just as rock solid about the fact that he had no right at all to have known her intimately.

  But when he’d mounted the stairs to the school and seen her there, hanging onto the furthest rung of some rickety ladder by her toes just to wash some grubby wall that no one cared about, he had seen red. He was smart enough not to storm in, though. He might have been seething, but he didn’t want to do anything that might startle her and cause her to fall. So he’d been as stealthy as he could in his approach, only revealing his presence to her when he’d stepped on the bottom rung and reached up to rescue her from that horribly precarious position that had his heart nearly stopping with terror and his anger at a level it had never been before in fear for her.

  She’d deserved a spanking for putting her life in danger. There was no doubt in his mind about that fact and he had given her one that was commensurate with her misdeed.

  But he should not have allowed it to go any further than that. He’d always tried to be a man of honor, as his father had been. He lived up to his obligations, paid his debts, was a more than decent employer and he did his best to deal fairly with everyone and everything that came his way, especially women. He might deliver one mean spanking, but he also made sure that he gave them as much pleasure as he took from them. In the case of ladies who expected payment, he also tipped very, very well. He prided himself on being as much of a gentleman to whatever woman he was lucky enough to wake up next to as he would be to any woman he might sit across from in a society drawing room or twirl around a ball room floor in San Francisco.