Avery, Texas, 1881
Madame Lily’s Pleasure Ranch
“ Come on over, Cowboy. Let’s see if your dick is as big as your ego.” Lily Barnett had written her response on lavender scented paper.
Wade MacReynolds narrowed his eyes at the tall, elegant female script that was scrawled across the page. Feigning anger, he crumpled up the parchment and stuffed it back into his leather vest pocket.
Minutes from riding onto her property and showing her just how well endowed he was, Wade reined in his mount. The animal neighed in annoyance but did as he was bid. The wind stirred around them, and a wolf howling in the distance echoed the unrest that stirred in his chest.
It wasn’t exactly fear that kept Wade from meeting with her. Any man would be quick to satisfy the itch in his drawers with a fine‐looking woman like Lily. Nearly as tall as a man, red haired with skin as pure as cream, she was every man’s fantasy. And it wasn’t worry for his own performance in the sack that bothered him, either. Wade had always enjoyed a healthy sex life. Well, up to a couple of years earlier when his life had gone to shit, that was.
No, he was pretty sure performance anxiety wasn’t holding him back. It was Lily herself. To his way of thinking, she must have a set of stones on her to say stuff like that to a man on the open range. Still, he had to admit that deep down, a part of him admired the whorehouse madam. She had taken a run down rotting pile of wood and stone and turned it into a thriving business.
“ What that woman needs is a man to settle her stew,” Wade’s chief cook and house man, Gus, had said that morning before Wade left his ranch house to do his morning chores.
Rumor had it that Lily loved the smell of leather, especially when applied to the wrists and ankles of a randy cowboy being taught a delicate lesson of manners in her infamous ‘Parlor of Passion and Pain.’ It was also common knowledge that she often enjoyed the scent of male sweat and the sound of a well‐placed riding crop smacked against a bound man’s more sensitive parts.
Wade adjusted his seat on the gelding to relieve an all too familiar ache in his britches. It had been a long, dry stretch for Wade, sex wise. To be honest, if it had been any other woman, he’d have jumped on her like a stallion on a mare. But this was Lily Barnett, and men said she could shrivel a man’s private parts like a grape left too long in the sun with a single glance.
So, here he sat, facing her property and trying to figure out how he was going to convince her to give him what he wanted and still keep his dignity not to mention his balls‐‐intact. Well, balls he had plenty of; he had precious little dignity left of these days.
And though he didn’t really know Lily, he knew her kind. She would take what she wanted and to hell with the consequences. Still, Wade had no choice. He’d have to serve himself up on a silver platter and hope there was enough left over to put his life back together when she’d had her due.
Wade grimaced. Sitting there and staring wasn’t going to get this over with any sooner. He gave his horse a nudge to move forward, cursing his own wretched luck and the voluptuous Lily Barnett for making this so damn hard.
As he made his way down the path that led to the main house, Wade tried to put down the thoughts of a night alone with willful whorehouse madam. It was just sex, after all. A contract between two parties for services rendered. Wade ground his jaw. It was damned irritating. Not that he thought anything bad about exchanging sex for what he wanted. But he feared it wasn’t just sex that Lily wanted from him.
Sure, he wasn’t in this for the romance, either. He only wanted one thing from her and that was it. No rough sex, no tie‐me‐up‐and‐tease‐me‐all‐night‐long romps, and definitely none of those leather straps rumored to be hanging by her bedposts. He just needed her to sign off on some water rights
Madame Lily’s Pleasure Ranch
“ Come on over, Cowboy. Let’s see if your dick is as big as your ego.” Lily Barnett had written her response on lavender scented paper.
Wade MacReynolds narrowed his eyes at the tall, elegant female script that was scrawled across the page. Feigning anger, he crumpled up the parchment and stuffed it back into his leather vest pocket.
Minutes from riding onto her property and showing her just how well endowed he was, Wade reined in his mount. The animal neighed in annoyance but did as he was bid. The wind stirred around them, and a wolf howling in the distance echoed the unrest that stirred in his chest.
It wasn’t exactly fear that kept Wade from meeting with her. Any man would be quick to satisfy the itch in his drawers with a fine‐looking woman like Lily. Nearly as tall as a man, red haired with skin as pure as cream, she was every man’s fantasy. And it wasn’t worry for his own performance in the sack that bothered him, either. Wade had always enjoyed a healthy sex life. Well, up to a couple of years earlier when his life had gone to shit, that was.
No, he was pretty sure performance anxiety wasn’t holding him back. It was Lily herself. To his way of thinking, she must have a set of stones on her to say stuff like that to a man on the open range. Still, he had to admit that deep down, a part of him admired the whorehouse madam. She had taken a run down rotting pile of wood and stone and turned it into a thriving business.
“ What that woman needs is a man to settle her stew,” Wade’s chief cook and house man, Gus, had said that morning before Wade left his ranch house to do his morning chores.
Rumor had it that Lily loved the smell of leather, especially when applied to the wrists and ankles of a randy cowboy being taught a delicate lesson of manners in her infamous ‘Parlor of Passion and Pain.’ It was also common knowledge that she often enjoyed the scent of male sweat and the sound of a well‐placed riding crop smacked against a bound man’s more sensitive parts.
Wade adjusted his seat on the gelding to relieve an all too familiar ache in his britches. It had been a long, dry stretch for Wade, sex wise. To be honest, if it had been any other woman, he’d have jumped on her like a stallion on a mare. But this was Lily Barnett, and men said she could shrivel a man’s private parts like a grape left too long in the sun with a single glance.
So, here he sat, facing her property and trying to figure out how he was going to convince her to give him what he wanted and still keep his dignity not to mention his balls‐‐intact. Well, balls he had plenty of; he had precious little dignity left of these days.
And though he didn’t really know Lily, he knew her kind. She would take what she wanted and to hell with the consequences. Still, Wade had no choice. He’d have to serve himself up on a silver platter and hope there was enough left over to put his life back together when she’d had her due.
Wade grimaced. Sitting there and staring wasn’t going to get this over with any sooner. He gave his horse a nudge to move forward, cursing his own wretched luck and the voluptuous Lily Barnett for making this so damn hard.
As he made his way down the path that led to the main house, Wade tried to put down the thoughts of a night alone with willful whorehouse madam. It was just sex, after all. A contract between two parties for services rendered. Wade ground his jaw. It was damned irritating. Not that he thought anything bad about exchanging sex for what he wanted. But he feared it wasn’t just sex that Lily wanted from him.
Sure, he wasn’t in this for the romance, either. He only wanted one thing from her and that was it. No rough sex, no tie‐me‐up‐and‐tease‐me‐all‐night‐long romps, and definitely none of those leather straps rumored to be hanging by her bedposts. He just needed her to sign off on some water rights
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