roll in the bedclothes with all night. Maybe for a thousand nights. He didn't want to frighten her. He wanted her to relax with him. He wouldn't risk his thousand nights with clumsy haste. He'd make her trust him. He'd make her want him. He'd make her laugh.
"And I believe you might be right, Mrs. Briggs," he continued.
Cora glanced at him quizzically. "Right about what?"
"I think I was pulled in, ma'am. I can still feel the marks from your fingernails on my behind."
Cora gave a little choking sound of horror as Jedwin came to his feet. He stood before her, leisurely rubbing the affected area.
"Mrs. Briggs, I swear I don't think I'll ever wash my backside again."
Before she had a chance to react, Jedwin had thrown one leg over the windowsill and was letting himself out of the window with a good deal more grace than when he'd come in.
Cora scurried to the window just in time to see him touch the ground.
“Jedwin,'' she called to him.
Looking up, he saluted her smartly and then, as if it were broad daylight, began repairs on the fence.
Cora watched his fluid movements as he went about his work ... the gleam of moonlight silver on his blond hair and the shadow of his lithe body moving so gracefully in the darkness.
Cora was chilled in the evening air and hurried back to her bed to grab a quilt. Wrapping it around her, she seated herself once more by the window and watched him work.
He was kind and funny, she thought. A good worker and a man of principles, no doubt. He would make some lucky girl a fine husband.
She thought of the indecency of having him alone with her in her bedroom. What would the people of the town think if they found out about that! For certain, they'd be thinking the worst, and she couldn't really blame them. A handsome man in the wicked Mrs. Briggs's own bedroom. It was a scandal, indeed.
The staccato hammer strokes were rhythmic and comforting. Cora yawned and leaned her head against the windowsill. She actually liked him, she decided. He's never washing his backside again, she thought as she drifted into sleep.
"Come on, Cory, that's it, come on." Cora heard Luther's words hot and breathy next to her ear. "That's it, move with me, Cory, move with me."
Cora's whole body was jittery and tense. The hairs on her arms stood straight up as if she were cold, hot, both.
"What is it, Luther?" she whispered. "What's happening?"
"Move with me, Cory. Get what you want," he said. "This is pleasure. It's here for the taking."
Cora was moving against him. She couldn't seem to stop herself. She heard the bedstead banging against the wall. She smelled the raw, rough scent that was Luther Briggs all around her. She opened her eyes to see him above her. His dark good looks were obscured by a grimace. His teeth were clenched as if in rage. Powerfully he thrust into her again and again. Pushing her toward that precipice, pushing her over.
"Oh!" Cora cried out as her private parts, clear up to her womb, tightened into a white-hot knot and then quivered as the spasms flowed through her.
"I'm sorry," she heard Luther cry as he found his own release.
She suspected, even then, that the apology was not meant for her.
Amelia Sparrow hummed to herself as she made her way up the front steps. The morning had gone beautifully, almost perfectly. She'd managed to speak with the wife of every businessman in town. "Briggston" was practically a reality already.
Smiling, Amelia remembered Cora Briggs and her slack-jawed stare at Penny's Grocery yesterday. Did that unrepentant floozy believe that she could keep the Briggs name in the gutter with her? Amelia gave a sigh of defiance. Not as long as she was a member of the family. And she would be a fully accepted member of the family soon. Once she got the town's name changed, why Maimie Briggs would welcome her with open arms.
Stepping into her front foyer, Amelia carefully set her parasol against the stand and slowly removed her gloves, being especially
"And I believe you might be right, Mrs. Briggs," he continued.
Cora glanced at him quizzically. "Right about what?"
"I think I was pulled in, ma'am. I can still feel the marks from your fingernails on my behind."
Cora gave a little choking sound of horror as Jedwin came to his feet. He stood before her, leisurely rubbing the affected area.
"Mrs. Briggs, I swear I don't think I'll ever wash my backside again."
Before she had a chance to react, Jedwin had thrown one leg over the windowsill and was letting himself out of the window with a good deal more grace than when he'd come in.
Cora scurried to the window just in time to see him touch the ground.
“Jedwin,'' she called to him.
Looking up, he saluted her smartly and then, as if it were broad daylight, began repairs on the fence.
Cora watched his fluid movements as he went about his work ... the gleam of moonlight silver on his blond hair and the shadow of his lithe body moving so gracefully in the darkness.
Cora was chilled in the evening air and hurried back to her bed to grab a quilt. Wrapping it around her, she seated herself once more by the window and watched him work.
He was kind and funny, she thought. A good worker and a man of principles, no doubt. He would make some lucky girl a fine husband.
She thought of the indecency of having him alone with her in her bedroom. What would the people of the town think if they found out about that! For certain, they'd be thinking the worst, and she couldn't really blame them. A handsome man in the wicked Mrs. Briggs's own bedroom. It was a scandal, indeed.
The staccato hammer strokes were rhythmic and comforting. Cora yawned and leaned her head against the windowsill. She actually liked him, she decided. He's never washing his backside again, she thought as she drifted into sleep.
"Come on, Cory, that's it, come on." Cora heard Luther's words hot and breathy next to her ear. "That's it, move with me, Cory, move with me."
Cora's whole body was jittery and tense. The hairs on her arms stood straight up as if she were cold, hot, both.
"What is it, Luther?" she whispered. "What's happening?"
"Move with me, Cory. Get what you want," he said. "This is pleasure. It's here for the taking."
Cora was moving against him. She couldn't seem to stop herself. She heard the bedstead banging against the wall. She smelled the raw, rough scent that was Luther Briggs all around her. She opened her eyes to see him above her. His dark good looks were obscured by a grimace. His teeth were clenched as if in rage. Powerfully he thrust into her again and again. Pushing her toward that precipice, pushing her over.
"Oh!" Cora cried out as her private parts, clear up to her womb, tightened into a white-hot knot and then quivered as the spasms flowed through her.
"I'm sorry," she heard Luther cry as he found his own release.
She suspected, even then, that the apology was not meant for her.
Amelia Sparrow hummed to herself as she made her way up the front steps. The morning had gone beautifully, almost perfectly. She'd managed to speak with the wife of every businessman in town. "Briggston" was practically a reality already.
Smiling, Amelia remembered Cora Briggs and her slack-jawed stare at Penny's Grocery yesterday. Did that unrepentant floozy believe that she could keep the Briggs name in the gutter with her? Amelia gave a sigh of defiance. Not as long as she was a member of the family. And she would be a fully accepted member of the family soon. Once she got the town's name changed, why Maimie Briggs would welcome her with open arms.
Stepping into her front foyer, Amelia carefully set her parasol against the stand and slowly removed her gloves, being especially
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