Their Wanted Bride (Bridgewater Brides) Read online

  Their Wanted Bride

  A Bridgewater Brides Novel

  Raisa Greywood

  Copyright © 2020 by Raisa Greywood

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author's imagination and used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  * * *

  All rights reserved.

  * * *

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  * * *

  Cover design: Bridger Media

  Cover graphic: Hot Damn Stock; DepositPhotos: kyslynskyy

  Welcome to Bridgewater, where one cowboy is never enough! Their Wanted Bride is published as part of the Bridgewater Brides World, which includes books by numerous authors inspired by Vanessa Vale’s USA Today bestselling series. This is a steamy standalone read. Enjoy!

  Acknowledgments

  I’d like to first thank Vanessa Vale for inviting me to write in her fascinating new world. I hope I’ve done her stories justice.

  A huge shout-out also goes to Engineer Hubby, Mr. Greywood, for his unwavering support and faith in me. Literally, this amazing man drove me to Texas and back, without complaint, all so I could research a Western. He’s just that awesome. Love you to the moon and back, baby.

  Want to see what I’m up to now that I’ve returned to the present from 1880’s Montana? Join my Raunchy Renegades at https://www.facebook.com/groups/272762356598383/.

  * * *

  You can also sign up for my newsletter at https://www.subscribepage.com/bridgewater.

  * * *

  As a bonus, everyone who signs up will receive a FREE exclusive Bridgewater short story based on the events in Their Wanted Bride.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Bridgewater Brides World

  About Raisa Greywood

  Also by Raisa Greywood

  Prologue

  CALEB

  * * *

  “I suppose it’s time for me to choose who I’m about to marry.” Maddy pulled a shiny silver dollar from her pocket and tossed it, then caught it out of the air. “Call it.”

  “Heads,” my best friend Justin said.

  She opened her hand, revealing the tail side of her coin, then set it gently on the table. “That means you’ll do the honors, Caleb. I suppose we ought to find the preacher before it gets too late. Thankfully, I won’t need a ring.”

  “Why not?” I asked. “Most ladies want to tell the world they’re married.”

  “They get caught on things. It’s a good way to lose a finger. Aside from that, I’m not seeing either of you wearing one.”

  Infernal woman. My cock ached when I thought about taming that sass. I caught her arm and spun her to face me. “You’re going to wear a wedding ring, Maddy. You can take it off for working, but I’m going to tan your backside if I catch you without it when you aren’t.”

  Her pretty eyes widened in surprise, and I had to hold myself back from kissing that sweet mouth.

  “Why do you care?”

  Thank goodness we’d had the foresight to request a private dining room in the hotel restaurant. Pushing her against the wall, I cupped her cheeks and crushed my lips to hers. She tasted just as sweet as I thought she would. The scent of her lemon soap swirled around me, making me growl as I sucked her lower lip into my mouth. Maybe I ought not be kissing a woman not yet my wife, but it was the only thing I could think to do to quiet her.

  She stiffened and tried to wriggle free, but as I nipped her lip and stroked away the sting, she relaxed against me and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. Whimpering softly, she stood on her toes and pushed a hand into my hair, her slim fingers tugging my head lower.

  Biting back a disappointed groan, I pulled away, soothing her with one last brush of my mouth over hers as I passed her to Justin. Taller than me by more than a few inches, he remedied the height disparity between him and Maddy by picking her up off her feet, making her straddle his thigh.

  His large hands cradled her backside as he kissed her thoroughly enough to make her whimper. I liked hearing that sound, and I especially liked seeing her wrap a slender calf around Justin’s hip. Her skirt rode up, revealing a swath of pale skin and a trim ankle encased in a battered leather boot.

  Leaning close, I nipped the shell of her ear, then whispered, “Ride him, Maddy. Let Justin make you feel good.”

  Reaching between them, I opened her bodice, loosening the buttons one at a time until her pretty bosom was revealed to us. Pert and a generous handful, her rosy pink nipples beckoned me to taste. My mouth watered, but I held back so I’d have something to look forward to on our wedding night.

  Neither of us would claim her until after we went before a preacher and bound her to us. That didn’t mean we couldn’t give her pleasure beforehand.

  Justin backed up a step, pulling her away from the wall. “Get behind her,” he muttered.

  I took my position facing Maddy’s back and snaked my hands around to cup her breasts. When I traced my thumbs around those sweet pink morsels, she arched and tossed her head, crying out as her nipples furled into tightened buds. Rolling them between my fingers, I kissed the tender skin under her ear as her hips bucked against Justin’s thigh.

  He grabbed her skirt, pushing it to her waist to reveal her pretty cunny framed by white eyelet drawers. Her russet curls were damp with arousal and I gritted my teeth, wanting nothing more than to claim her. Justin was having every bit as much trouble controlling himself as I was.

  Banding my arm around her waist, I held her still and jerked my chin at him, giving tacit permission to touch her. I didn’t think I had enough control left to make sure I didn’t go too far.

  He traced a gentle finger down her belly and kissed her, swallowing her cries. When he reached her pussy, she spasmed against him.

  “Please,” she whined. “I need—”

  “We know, darling,” Justin murmured. He reached under her skirts and her eyes flew open as she let out a soft squeal of delight. He must have found the little bundle of nerves at the apex of her sex. Fuck, she was a passionate little thing.

  “Come for us, Maddy,” I ordered. “Let us see you take your pleasure from us.”

  Jerking hard, she exploded with a soft scream, her chest and face turning red with exertion. I swiped a finger down her bare thigh. Just as I thought…wet. Copious moisture slicked her soft skin. I was desperate for a taste.

  After licking my finger clean of her spend—sweet and tangy just like her—I kissed her damp forehead as I put her bodice to rights. “That’s just a sample of the pleasure we can give you.”

  Justin smoothed her hair, tousled from our loving, then tucked a wayward curl behind one ear. Touching her chin, he brushed a soft kiss over her trembling lips.

  Struggling to open eyes glazed with what was probably her first bout of passion, she let out a soft sigh of repletion. “Heavens, it must be a sin for a body to feel so good.”

  Fuck, it had been her first orgasm. She’d
get more from us. And soon.

  Justin set her on her feet, wrapping an arm around her to help her keep her balance. Turning to the side, he adjusted himself in his trousers, wincing as he cupped his swollen cock. He was probably in the same agony I was currently suffering.

  I did some adjusting of my own, then said, “I reckon we better find that preacher, Miss Madelaine. Won’t do our reputations any good to be caught kissing a woman who isn’t our wife.”

  Her eyes closed sleepily as she touched her swollen lips. “It’s Maddy. My husbands should call me Maddy.”

  1

  JUSTIN

  * * *

  Two months earlier…

  * * *

  “One more stop, then we’ll head back to the ranch,” Caleb, my best friend, said, striding purposely toward the mercantile. His blond hair gleamed gold in the late February sunlight. Tall, with a muscular frame, he walked as if he owned the world.

  My folks worked his family’s farm, and we’d been inseparable since we were barely out of swaddling. There were days when I missed that old homestead in northeastern Ohio, but Caleb had his eye on moving west for as long as I could remember.

  Not all Caleb’s ideas were good ones. He’d gotten us into more trouble than any two little boys ought to be allowed, but he always took the blame. I guess our respective parents figured I didn’t have the imagination for mischief. I had plenty of imagination, but my mama threw a mean switch. Smiling at the memory, I followed him inside.

  What with the train making a stop in town, real businesses had cropped up, including a small hotel with a good restaurant, a mercantile, and even a postmistress down the street from the saloon. Bridgewater was a right nice place to be, especially for me, the son of an escaped slave and an abolitionist. The townsfolk didn’t give a whit about the color of a man’s skin. Their needs were simple and straightforward. They provided for their women and would stop at nothing to care for them.

  It was odd at first. I’d always believed marriage was supposed to be between one man and one woman, yet the men of Bridgewater decided that wasn’t good enough. To them, two men were needed to satisfy a woman’s every need in bed and out. To provide for her and protect her, slake her darkest desires…

  Shifting my feet, I attempted to control my thickening shaft at the mere idea of taking a wife for our own. I couldn’t fault their reasoning. If a woman’s husband died, there would be another to keep her safe and provide a stable home for her and her children.

  It was one thing to share a soiled dove. We’d done that many times, and left our partners blissfully sated. I couldn’t stop daydreaming about embracing the custom brought to Montana from Mohamir by English soldiers who wanted to find a new home in America. Someday, Caleb and I would find our own bride. We’d use one of the carved wooden toys to prepare her back passage, making her ready for both of us, and she’d blossom like a flower under our touch.

  Letting out a breath, I got my head out of the clouds and focused on what we were doing. “What do we need? Far as I know, we have plenty of beans, flour, and coffee.”

  “You’ll see.” A wicked smile crossed his face and he bellied up to the counter.

  “Good morning, boys,” Mr. Rutherford, the shopkeeper, said. His partner, Mr. Thompson nodded, and returned to arranging shelves. Their wife, Laurann, a pretty lady with dimples and curly blonde hair, smiled at us from her spot behind the till. “What can we do for you?”

  “I want to place an ad in the newspapers,” Caleb replied. “Justin and I are looking for a wife.”

  “No, we’re not!”

  “Trust me. I have an idea.” Caleb winked at me, his expression reminding me of all the times he’d gotten us into trouble as boys. I swear, my mama must have worn out her arm giving us our lickings.

  “Oh, that’s exciting,” Laurann said, her brown eyes sparkling. “I’ll let the reverend know y’all are fixing to have a wedding.”

  Sighing, I rolled my eyes and resisted the urge to remind Caleb about what happened the last time he got a wild hair and decided to take a wife. Truth be told, I wasn’t too sorry about that. It hadn’t occurred to us to share a wife back then, but Carrie objected to our friendship and demanded he choose her over me. She was spoiled and willful, and had her eye only on Caleb’s family farm. Thankfully, she’d shown her true feelings before the wedding.

  “I thought you were done having ideas,” I muttered, knowing I was going to go along with his plan. Nothing would come of it, but if it made him happy, I was willing to let him have his fun.

  His face tightened as if he’d heard what I didn’t say. “We’re gonna do things different this time.”

  Blinking, I scanned the words he’d written, then laughed outright. “You got dropped on your head as a baby, didn’t you?”

  His face reddening, he grinned and handed the paper to Laurann. “Aren’t you tired of sleeping alone? Don’t you want a wife between us to keep warm during those long winter nights?”

  Damnation. I nodded as a flush of heat traveled down my spine to lodge in my balls. “Wouldn’t that be fine? Not sure asking a woman to bring nothing but a horse and saddle is going to get us a wife though.”

  “I got a feeling about this,” he replied, grabbing a few cigars from the bin on the counter and paying for them.

  “Maybe we should go back to that brothel in Butte and find Tessa. Remember her?”

  He smiled fondly at the memory, but shook his head. “I sent her a letter. She’s already married to a homesteader in Oklahoma.”

  “I’m happy for her.” Tessa was a good girl with iridescent blue eyes and a heart as big as the heavens. She deserved the joy of a husband of her own.

  We left the store and retrieved our horses. Caleb’s mare snapped, making him dance out of the way of her teeth. “I have a good feeling about this. Should have done it months ago. I’ll wager she shows up before the weather turns, and we’ll have ourselves a wife. In fact, when we get home, I’m going to get started on building our marriage bed.”

  Laughing, I caught my own horse against the hitching post and jumped gracelessly into the saddle before he threw me. “Better make it a big one,” I advised, “I got a powerful need to give our wife some loving.”

  The idea of getting a woman, our woman, between us made my cock hard. Who would claim her first? Would Caleb want her pussy while I took her ass? She’d scream her pleasure, calling out both our names as we made her come while she rode our cocks.

  What would such a woman look like? She’d be tall with generous curves, and strong enough to bear the two of us as we fucked her to sated bliss. She’d have brown eyes and plump lips sweet as honeycomb bowed up into a perpetual smile Caleb and I would put on her face after a night of hard fucking. We were generous lovers and we’d see her well satisfied. Day and night. Straightening my shoulders, I led the way out of town, spurring my horse into a lope. Maybe it was a fool’s dream, but sometimes Caleb’s feelings were right. If that meant we’d get a bride, then I was all for it.

  Maddy

  * * *

  “No, no, no, Madelaine! A lady glides when she walks. She does not tramp about like a hired hand.”

  I made one last attempt to catch the book perched on my head, then flinched at the sharp whistle of a cane cutting through the air. A line of fire lit up my bottom, making me bite back an ugly curse as the heavy bible hit the floor.

  Biting my lip against a pained cry, I kept my silence and knelt to pick it up, then straightened my spine. I refused to give Celeste the satisfaction of watching me rub away the sting from that blasted cane. My light cotton day dress did nothing to soften the harsh blow, and it would probably leave another welt on my backside.

  Contrary to her words, the heels of Celeste’s smart boots beat a tattoo on the oak floor of the parlor as she marched up to me. “Your father’s last wish, God rest his soul, was to see you suitably married, and you take every opportunity to thwart me.”

  Celeste wasn’t worth the trouble of an answe
r. The men she presented were boring as dry toast. They wanted a pretty girl who would stay silent and bear children. I was sure it was necessary one like her husband, but vague distaste was the best I could muster for my stepmother’s choices.

  I wanted a husband, but being silent and biddable was not one of my gifts. My future husband didn’t have to be handsome or wealthy. I wanted someone who could make me smile like I had a secret. My best friend Dahlia grinned and blushed every time her husband Reggie laid a gentle hand on the back of her neck and stroked a finger across her jaw. I got an achy, hot itch deep in my belly when I watched them together.

  What would it be like to share a man’s bed? I’d seen horses mate uncountable times, but I thought it must be more. A hurried rut wouldn’t make Dahlia smile like that.

  Celeste swished the cane at my face, making me jump backward and stumble over a chair. “Have you nothing to say for yourself, Madelaine O’Connor?”

  That was enough of that. Celeste had put one too many lines on my bottom, some of which had scarred. Narrowing my eyes, I caught my balance and snatched the cane away from her. Breaking it over my knee, I said, “Yes. I’m not a child anymore. If you hit me again, I will shove that cane so far up your backside you won’t have to worry about your posture ever again.”

  I dropped the pieces at her feet and left the house, ignoring her shrill screeches. The situation was quickly becoming untenable. I’d been stuck inside with her for days with idiotic lessons on being a lady, and I was tired of it.